#oh my fucking god I got a notif for this and didn't read the blog url 😭 my stomach dropped for a second

[viking-raider]

SWIPE - PART THREE

Summary: You and Henry spend some quality time together, making you realize how strongly he's come to feel for you.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 8.4k

Pervious: I / II

Warning: PG-13 - Cotton Candy Fluff, Angst, Fluff, Protective!Henry, Sassy!Reader, Language, Anxiety, Cuddling, Playful Banter, Warhammer Mention, Kal Adorable-ness

Inspiration: Something I read.

Author’s Note: Takes please before Sand Castle! I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

You: OMG, you did not change my contact name in your phone to Ducky, with an emoji!

Henry: You're damn right I did, my little Ducky!

“Oh, I can play that game too, Cavill.” You huffed at your phone, pulling up your contacts and changed Henry's name to a puppy emoji.

You: What now!?

Henry: Aw, it looks like Kal!

“Ugh!” You laughed, dropping back in your office chair. “This man is a menace.” You said to your stomach, grinning.

“Are you supposed to be on your phone, during work hours?” Craig's voice said behind you.

You rolled your eyes. “I don't know, ask yourself that the next time you get angry you lost a level of Candy Crush.” You retorted, looking at him over your shoulder. “What do you want?” You hissed, knowing he wasn't over at your desk only to rag on you for being on your phone.

“Have you finished the report on Garcia v. Duncan?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest. “It's due by tomorrow morning.”

“I'm not and I am aware of the deadline.” You replied, the report was in fact laid out on your desk and computer at that moment. “Mr. Donovan will have it, when I come into the office, bright and early tomorrow morning, before he goes into the courtroom at two, that afternoon.” You told him, coolly.

Craig blinked at you, his crossed arms relaxing a fraction. “You know what time his case starts?”

“Of course, I do.” You answered, turning to face him. “It's my job to know those things, so the job runs as smoothly as possible and that he wins his case, without any technicalities. Not stand around or going about the office, like I'm the fucking Red Baron.” You said, with a sharp edge in your voice. “Tell me, Craig. How is your case, the Kiener v. Garven? I heard that the deadline has been cut short three times already and you've received new evidence that neither side was aware of.” You said, lifting a brow at him.

“Sounds pretty tight for a case that's supposed to be closed a month ago.”

You watched Craig's face change, like watching a pot of water begin to boil over on a stove. You didn't know what had come over you, that you back-mouthed your boss, but you had enough of him picking on you, especially when you were doing your job and doing it well, better than he was doing his own job. Craig looked like he was about to blow his top at you, but instead turned on his heels and stormed off, back to his little corner of the office.

“God give me strength.” You mumbled to yourself, going back to your work.

Henry got off the plane with Kal and made his way through the crowd, towards the baggage claim, but something in the crowd caught his attention, and he instantly smiled. “Looks like we have a welcoming party, Bear.” He said, approaching you.

“What are you doing here, Ducky?”

“I'm here to greet you, Puppy.” You smiled back at him and pat Kal on top of the head. “Excuse me, Puppies.” You corrected yourself, looking down at Kal. “I missed you a lot and I knew you'd probably be taking a cab home.”

“So, I came to pick you up instead.”

“Aw, we're touched.” Henry smiled, shifting on his feet. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Of course.” You nodded, holding your hand out for Kal's leash, in offer.

Nodding, Henry handed you Kal's leash and headed over to baggage claim, grabbed his suitcase and headed towards the exit with you, unaware of a certain person's attention as you went.

“I missed you.” Henry said, as you drove to his place.

You smiled over at Henry, then giggled as Kal stuck his head between the front seats and licked your face. “I missed you too, Henry.” You said, giving Kal a kiss.

“How's the baby?” He asked, watching the bumps through the fabric of your shirt and gave them a gentle rub, having special permission to touch your belly whenever.

“Killing me.” You sighed, resting your hand over his. “I haven't found a comfortable position to sit in for days, especially at work.”

“Back pain?” Henry frowned, feeling bad.

“To say the least.” You replied, shifting in your seat as your hips screamed.

“Stay with me.” Henry blurted out, as you pulled into the driveway of his mews.

“What?” You squeaked, caught off guard.

“Stay over with me.” He repeated himself, biting his lip. “Just for tonight.” He added, quickly.

“Ghost.” You blurted out. “He'll go crazy if I leave him alone that long.”

“We'll go get him.” Henry said, fully committing to his spontaneous idea.

You stared over at Henry, mouth hanging open, before you put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Henry grinned, giddy at the thought of spending the night with you at his place, you had only been over to his place a couple of times, he had made you dinner and you watched his favorite movie, Gladiator, that you had scandalously confessed you had never seen before. Then, Henry drove you back home, when it grew late and you had yawned a few too many times. But, tonight, you'd be staying all night and he couldn't wait, going through a mental list of things he could potentially make for dinner and something the two of you could do as an activity.

Making it to your flat building, you went up, packed a little overnight bag, since you did have to go into work in the morning, then took Ghost down to the car. Kal greeted Ghost excitedly, his tail swishing against his back, while Ghost's beat against the backseat and the window, as they sniffed all over each other.

“Hey, bud!” Henry grinned, turning in the passenger seat and reached into the back to give the Northern Inuit love and scratches. “How are you doing, big man?” He chuckled, as Ghost swiped at his face with his tongue. “I missed you too.”

Returning to Henry's place and getting the whole gang inside, you sighed, as you stretched on Henry's couch, letting your head fall back against the cushions and your eyes shut. Henry smiled at you, before grabbing a small, throw pillow at the other end of the couch and situated it on the coffee table, then gently wrapped his arm around your calves, to lift your legs and rest your feet on the pillow.

You cracked an eye open at him, as he gently tugged your slip-on shoes off your swollen feet, then gave you a cheeky wink. “You spoil me, Cavill.” You murmured, closing your eyes again.

“It makes me happy.” He whispered back, bracing his arm on the back of the couch, to press his lips to your forehead. “And you two need to rest.” He added, cocking an eyebrow at your belly. “I'm going to put my stuff away, then shower real quick.” He told you, finding the remote to the tv and set it on the couch next to you. “If you need anything, you know where the kitchen and bathroom are.” He said, kissing your forehead once more, before taking his bags to the bedroom.

You relaxed on the couch for a few more moments, before opening your eyes and picking up the remote, turning the tv on, starting to surf for anything to watch, and grinned when both Ghost and Kal joined on each side of you.

Henry came back into the living room an hour later, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants and his famous blue tank top, his dark curls damp. He stood beside the couch, looking down at the three of you, hands held out, and looking incredulous.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” He asked, looking up at you, both hurt and looking for help, like you would make one of the boys move to make space for him.

“Um...” You giggled, looking between Kal and Ghost, then back up at Henry. “Did you make a reservation?” You quipped, before cracking up.

“Hm.” Henry growled, huffing, turning on his heels and disappeared into the kitchen.

Beside you, both Kal and Ghost suddenly perked up, their already erect ears twitching at a sound you couldn't hear yourself, but you suspected what it was Henry was rustling around with. They both bolted off the couch and made a mad dash for the kitchen, followed by a victorious 'ha' from Henry, who came rushing out of the kitchen and dropped himself onto the couch, where Kal had been.

“No dog can resist a blueberry and peanut butter biscuit.” He said, triumphantly nodding at you.

“Smooth, Puppy. Very smooth.” You smirked at him, resting your shoulder against his.

“Thank you.” He replied, putting his arm around you. “I wanted the best seat in the house.” He said, smiling at you, softly.

“Should I leave you two alone then?” You asked, motioning to your belly.

Henry laughed aloud and kissed your cheek. “Then, it would only be half the best seat in the house.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” You sighed, wiping fake sweat from your forehead.

“Are you looking for anything specific for dinner?” Henry asked, looking up at the tv.

“You always ask me that.” You replied, frowning at him. “We always eat what I want. What do you want?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

Henry bit his lip as he thought about it. “I've wanted to try cooking homemade pizza in my Egg Grill.” He finally answered, looking down at you.

“Ooo, that does sound very good.” You concurred with him.

“Pizza it is then!” He smiled, hugging you closer to him.

You and Henry watched the show you had found for a little bit longer, before he got up and started searching his kitchen to make sure he had all the ingredients he needed to make the pizza, discovering he didn't have dry yeast.

“I need to make a quick run to the store.” He told you, standing behind the couch. “I don't have any yeast for the dough. Do you need anything?”

“Nope!” You shook your head, looking back at him. “Just be safe.”

“Promise.” He nodded, kissing the top of your head and headed out.

You got up from the couch and padded into the kitchen, the cool tiles feeling wonderful on your sore feet as you pushed up on your toes to grab a glass out of Henry's cabinet, turning towards his refrigerator to got ice and water out of the dispenser in the door. “You know I'm surprised your dad doesn't have his Rosemary Water pumped into this thing.” You chuckled at Kal, as you went back to the couch.

“I'm back!” Henry called out, coming through the door.

“Welcome back!” You greeted him back, smiling up at him as he stopped by the couch.

“I see I've been replaced again.” He commented, seeing Kal and Ghost cuddled on the couch with you again.

“Never, just keep me safe till you come back home.” You chuckled, patting both dogs on the head.

Henry's heart flipped, thinking about coming home to the four of you. “I'll get the dough started, it's going to take a little while for it to rise, once I get it all mixed together.”

“You want some help?” You asked, scooting to the edge of the couch.

“Nope, you sit your butt right there and relax.” He told you, shaking his head and headed into the kitchen, but returned a few minute later with a steaming cup. “Me amour.” He smiled, setting the mug down on a coaster in front of you.

You smiled shyly at Henry, recognizing the smell of your Ginger tea. “You had Ginger Tea laying about?” You asked, picking up the cup and taking a sip of it, finding it was just as you liked it.

“I didn't.” Henry confessed, blushing. “But while I was at the store, I remembered your stomach gets upset most times after you eat, and it did the last time you had dinner over here, and that your tea really helps prevent that, so I picked up a box for you.” He explained, his blue eyes tender.

“Well, merci beaucoup.” You replied, nodding your head at him, appreciatively.

Henry smiled at you, before going back into the kitchen and started work on the pizza dough. He looked up as you came into the kitchen, your teacup clutched in both hands. “You're supposed to be relaxing.” He said, lifting a brow at you.

“I am.” You smirked, slipping onto a bar stool situated at the island Henry was working at. “But, I'm in the living room and you're in here. How are we supposed to talk, if we're in two different rooms?” You asked, lifting both your brows at him.

“Touche.” He chuckled, then slid his phone across the counter to you. “You want to read the measurements and instructions out to me?” He asked, with a soft smile.

You set your cup aside and picked up his phone. “Let's see. First thing is nine hundred and fifty milliliters of flour.” You read off the top of the list.

Nodding his head, Henry opened the container of flour he had and measured out the fine, white powder into the large, mixing bowl in front of him. “Next?”

“Five milliliters of sugar, followed by an envelope of yeast and ten milliliters of salt.” You read off to him, and watched him carefully add each of the ingredients to the bowl with the flour. “Then, you have to start mixing.”

“All right.” Henry replied, slotting the bowl into the stand mixer. “Is there a specific speed I'm supposed to put it on?”

“Doesn't say.” You answered, shaking your head as you carefully skimmed through the instructions.

“I'll keep it on low at first, then slowly increase it.” He said, studying the mixer.

“Probably a good idea, don't want it to snow flour in the kitchen.” You chuckled, amused. “Says to slowly add three hundred and fifty milliliters of water, that's forty-three degrees celsius, with thirty milliliters of olive oil.” You looked across at him, setting his phone down.

“That's easy enough.” Henry replied, turning around and filling the measuring cup with an appropriate amount of water. “In a drawer behind you, is a thermometer, could you grab it for me?” He asked, placing the cup in the microwave and turning it on for three minutes, hoping it was long enough to heat the water up to the correct temperature.

You twisted around in the stool and reached out for the drawer, fishing around inside of it until you found what you were looking for and turned back around, handing the food-grade thermometer out to Henry.

“Now, what do you want on your pizza?” Henry asked, as he greased the inside of a large bowl with some olive oil, to kill time until the microwave finished.

“I don't know.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. “What are my options?”

“Cheese, obviously.” He laughed, setting the bowl down. “I got pepperonis, meatballs, veggies...”

“If you put broccoli on your pizza, I will disown you!” You said, sternly.

“I would never!” Henry replied, outraged at the idea, removing the measuring cup from the microwave and dripped the probe of the thermometer into it. “That's close enough.” He said, setting the thermometer aside and turned the mixer on.

“You have any bacon?” You asked, frowning over at him.

Henry laughed out loud, nodding his head. “I do.”

“Pepperoni and bacon with some spinach.” You said, licking your lips.

“That's a strange combination.” Henry frowned at you, but chuckled, as he slowly added the water into the mixer.

“I'm pregnant.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at him. “So, it sounds godly.”

Adding the olive oil in, Henry let the mixer do its job, forming the dough into a solid ball, before turning it off and transferring it into the greased bowl, then covering it with plastic wrap. “All right, now to let it rest for an hour.” He said, sliding it into a drawer beside his stove.

“You want to play a game, while we wait?” He asked, straightening up.

“What games do you have?” You asked, looking up at him with interest.

“Monopoly, Game of Thrones-themed chess, I have a deck of cards, or we can find something else.” He said, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Have you ever played Oregon Trail?” You asked, lifting your eyebrow at him.

“I haven't.” He replied, shaking his head.

You grinned at him, slipping off your stool and grabbing your cup. “Grab your gaming laptop, Superman!” You called out over your shoulder, heading back to the living room.

Henry did as you told him, grabbing his Razer laptop from his bedroom and settled on the couch with you, setting the laptop on the coffee table. “All right, what am I doing?” He asked, looking at you.

“Go to Oregon Trail Game dot com.” You told him, sipping your cool tea. “It's not a super flash game, like World of Warcraft, but I always get a kick out of Grandma falling out of the wagon or Timmy getting bitten by a snake.” You chuckled.

“Dear lord!” Henry laughed, finding the site and the, made in 1990, game menu. “This is an old game.” He commented, reading through it.

“That it is. With all the number commands, I suck at the hunting part of the game. But, maybe you'll be better at it, than I am.” You commented, leaning against him and looking at the screen.

“All right, let's hit the space-bar and get the game started.” Henry said, moving through the start menu. “Okay, we can be a banker, a carpenter or a farmer for the journey. Bankers give us more money and services than the other two, but we have to work harder. Makes sense, bankers are posh fuckers.” He said, making your snort.

“What do you think we should be?” He asked, looking at you.

“I'm usually a carpenter. But, what do you want to be?” You replied, staring back at him.

“Let's try a farmer.” He said, typing in the three command. “Who's the leader of our party?”

“Well, you're the one working the keyboard, so you are.” You reasoned.

“Okay.” He nodded, entering his own name.

“Now we need four other names for the rest of the party.” You said, pointing to the blank list.

“Well, obviously you're coming with me.” Henry said, entering your name in the number two slot.

“Kal and Ghost can come with us too.” You giggled, amused.

Henry typed in the dogs' names into three and four, then looked at you from the corner of his eye for a moment, before typing in, Baby. “There, now everyone's coming along.”

You smirked at him, shaking your head. “Now, when do we set off?” You hummed, biting your lip. “Let's leave in April.” You said, pointing to the month.

“Done.” Henry nodded, and leaned forward a little bit. “We have four hundred dollars for all of our supplies!”

“You have to remember, Puppy, this was the 1800's, four hundred dollars was a fortune back then.” You told him, chuckling at his outrage.

“Yeah, you're right.” He nodded, calming down, and continuing on. “All right, what do we need to buy for the journey?” He sighed, studying the list in front of him. “Oxen and clothing.”

“Yep, I can't remember what the max on oxen are, but it'll tell you.” You told him, biting your lip.

“Okay, Oxen first. There's two oxen per yoke and he suggests, at least, three and they're—fucking hell, forty bucks!” Henry roared, his mouth falling open at the price.

You busted out laughing, rocking back on the couch. “You make millions from your movies, and you're outraged by forty dollars. I love this!” You sobbed, your body shaking. “We're not even on the trail yet!”

“I'll get five.” He huffed, rolling his eyes and moved onto food rations. “Two hundred pounds for everyone, but with the way you eat, I should probably get triple that.”

“Watch it, Cavill.” You warned, narrowing your eyes at him.

Henry smirked at you, giving your cheek a quick kiss. “Three hundred might be okay. You said we can hunt.” He said, typing it in and moved onto clothing. “Says two for each person. So, there's five of us and that's ten, I'll get twelve, just in case.”

“Uh-oh, Hen. We only have four hundred bucks and we're at three hundred and eighty.” You smirked at him.

“I got this.” He said, waving his hand at you.

“All right, Mr. Gamer.” You chuckled, snorting at him.

“Oh shit, the spare parts are ten each!” Henry snapped, gasping.

“But, you got this!” You replied, teasing him.

“I do got this!” Henry answered, going back to the oxen screen and shifted the amount, then did the same with the food, clothing, ammunition and spare parts. “Ha, four hundred dollars on the dot!” He smiled at you, victoriously.

You held up your hands, grinning at him. “You're the leader of the wagon.” You giggled at him.

“That's right!” He chuckled, turning back to the game. “Let's go on a journey!” He said, hitting the space-bar and starting you all on the trail. “April 1, 1848.” Henry read aloud. “Weather is cool. Our health is good. Pace is steady and the rations are filling!” He said, then got the wagon going.

You and Henry watched the little pixelated wagon and ox move across the screen, a meter of distance, weather, health, food, the date and the next landmark down below it. But the wagon hadn't moved for two seconds, when it stopped and a message appeared on the screen.

“Oh no!” You gasped, reading it. “Kal's broken his leg!”

“My boy!” Henry yelled, outraged.

“At least he's still alive!” You replied, patting Henry on the leg. “Hey, we reached Superman country!” You declared, as the wagon stopped in Kansas.

Henry snorted, shaking his head. “Let's look around.” He said, then typed in, yes, only to discover you had reached a body of water. “We have to cross the river.” He frowned, reading the outline. “It's rather far across and deep.”

“Maybe we should ferry it.”

“We can't.” You smirked, trying not to giggle.

“Why not?” Henry replied, looking at you.

“Ferries cost money, good sir, and you spent all of it.” You reminded him, losing your battle, and chuckled at him.

“Fuck.” He snapped, carding a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine. We'll ford it.”

“Here's to hoping we don't sink.” You commented, crossing your fingers.

“And we fucking sink!” Henry barked, his shoulders slumping.

“Losing almost all our clothing, forty-three bullets, one wagon axle and tongue and—oh no...” You puffed your bottom lip out and cast your eyes down to the floor. “Kal downed.” You cooed, heartbroken.

“This sucks!” Henry pouted, but still continued on, making you giggle.

“I'm still with you, Puppy.” You cooed, hugging your arms around him and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Not another river!” Henry whined, his head hanging, as the wagon stopped again with another message.

“Try floating across it this time.” You said, still hugging him tighter.

Henry sighed, watching the wagon slowly move across the water, only to fall over. “Well, at least it was only bullets this time.”

“We're really low on food.” You commented, quietly. “Hit enter and try hunting.” You told him, nudging him gently.

Henry hit enter, pausing for a moment to look at the map and groaned, you weren't even a quarter of the way across to Oregon. “This is insane.” He commented, going back to the enter screen and picked the hunting option.

“This is so strange.” Henry said, looking at the practical stick-figure holding a stick rifle that spun when he used his arrow keys and pointed differently with his number keys, shooting out little white dots that were supposed to be the bullets.

“Look at that!” You smiled, watching him manage to shoot three buffalo. “Now we have more food!” You said, proudly.

“But, I only carried two hundred of the thousand pounds back to the wagon.” Henry replied, pressing his lips together.

“Food's food.” You replied, kissing his neck.

“Shit, you've been bitten by a snake.” He growled, scowling at the offending message.

“All well, it happens.” You shrugged, watching the screen.

“No!” Henry yelled, as the message about Ghost getting dysentery came up, then two seconds later the message that he died. “God damn it.” He sighed, watching the food meter run out. “We're going to starve.” He mumbled to himself, realizing there were no bullets left.

“You're going to be the last man standing.” You replied, offhandedly.

“Why do you say that?” He asked, turning his head to look at you with an expression that broke your heart, he looked so upset at the fictional thought of you and Baby starving, in a game.

“The leader of the wagon tends to be the last one to die, for some reason.” You answered, moving your hand up and gently rubbed the back of his head. “At least, that's been my experience.” You added, softly.

“Hm.” He hummed, low in his throat.

A minute later, a message appeared on the screen, announcing you had cholera, almost immediately followed by your death. You felt Henry's body tense beside you and gently nudged your nose against the side of his neck, you felt a small qualm in your stomach, seeing baby get a snake bite and knew what was coming, and suddenly felt you should have just suggested monopoly.

“It's just a game, Henry.” You whispered, looking at him, not even bothering to look at the screen.

Henry nodded his head and sighed, licking his lips as the game ended with his death, the last one to die, just like you said. He shifted beside you, his arm snaking around your legs to hug you closer to him as he sighed heavily, and gently pressed his forehead to yours. You rested your chin on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his upper body, realizing just how attached to you and the baby Henry had become, especially the safety of you both, which warmed your heart. You both were quiet for a long while, enjoying your closeness, before Henry's eyes met yours for a moment and you tilted your head at him.

“Let's try it one more time.” He said, pulling away from you.

You blinked at him, caught off guard for a moment, sure he was about to kiss you, but shook it off. “You sure?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Yes!” He nodded, getting back to the start screen for the game. “We're going as a damn banker this time.” He growled, going through the motions of setting up the trip. “Oh, we getting sixteen hundred dollars this go around. But I'm making you leader this go around.” He said, typing your name in, followed by his, Ghost and Kal's.

“Hm.” He hummed, staring at the fifth spot on the list.

“Just make one up.” You told him, knowing his hesitation.

Nodding his head, Henry typed a name in.

“Aquillon?” You frowned at him.

“It's the name of a guy, known as the Emperor's Eyes, in Warhammer 40k.” Henry grinned, blushing. “It's part of Adeptus Custodes.” He explained, shyly.

You chuckled at him, amused. “I should have known.”

“Let's go on the trail in March.” Henry said, continuing on. “Five ox. Three hundred pounds of food. Fourteen pairs of clothing. Three of all the spare parts.” He mumbled to himself, going down the list of items, all totaling almost five hundred and thirty dollars. “I think that's okay.” He commented, glancing over at you.

“We'll find out.” You answered, nodding back at him.

Starting on the trail, you ended up with a blizzard and lost a day, then went on the wrong trail and lost four days, before finally making it to the first landmark. You moved along the trail, getting lost, losing Kal to downing again, the wagon got robbed during the night, having half of your food stolen. But soon you reached a grave site and Henry examined it, to discover it was his grave from the last game.

“Look! We made it farther that our last try!” He grinned at you, triumphantly.

“That we did, Puppy.” You smiled back at him, your fingertips tracing his spine. “Look, we're halfway!” You said, watching Henry bring up the map.

“Yeah, but we've lost Ghost to bad water.”

“You also keep getting dysentery.” You laughed, seeing the message for the third time, then gasped. “Henry, no!” You cried, as the messaged of his death from, shocker, dysentery popped up.

“Go on without me, my love! You're almost to Oregon!” He laughed, grinning at the screen.

A minute later the congratulations screen came up, as you made it to Willamette Valley, Oregon.

“It's literally only me and Aquillon with one wagon, fifteen oxen, which is over kill,” You laughed, grinning. “Four spare parts, eight pairs of clothing, two hundred and forty bullets, because we did zero hunting, two hundred and forty-three pounds of food and three hundred and seventy-one dollars.” You listed off all the supplies you had left at the end of the journey. “All of that gives us a total of eight hundred and one points for the game.” You giggled, thoroughly amused by the outcome.

“How the hell does that guy have seven thousand points!” Henry retorted, mouth dropping open at the leader board screen.

“Apparently, he knows da wae.” You joked, wheezing. “But hey! This is the first time I've made it all the way to Oregon!” You told him, hugging his arm. “You're a damn good banker. You suck as a farmer, though.” You teased him.

Henry chuckled, dropping his head forward to hide his blush. “Yeah, I'm pretty decent with money, not so much with toiling in the dirt.” He replied, before glancing at his watch. “But I need to check on the pizza dough.” He said, getting up and padding into the kitchen.

You followed after him, watching him pull the bowl out of the proving drawer and set it on the counter. The dough had risen nicely, so Henry lightly dusted his cutting board and turned the dough out onto it, divided it into two equal balls, then covered them with a clean tea towel and set a timer on his phone for ten minutes.

“Right, while we wait for the ten minutes, I'll get the Egg ready.” Henry smiled, heading out to his back deck.

Henry opened the large, green and egg-shaped grill, removing the inserts to fill the grill with charcoal, then put the rack back in with the pizza stone, so it would be ready for preheat. “You all right?” He asked, as he came back into the kitchen and found you bent over the kitchen counter, your forehead pressed to the cool wood.

“Mmhm.” You mumbled, arching your back downward with a soft moan.

“You don't seem like it.” He retorted, brow furrowing at you.

You sighed softly, looking at him from under your arm. “Just my back and hips, is all.”

Henry moved behind you, resting his palms on your hips and gently pressed his thumbs into the small of your back, starting to methodically work up and down your spine. You moaned, your eyes rolling into the back your head as Henry applied just the right amount of pressure and hit all the right spots, turning you into putty. Henry chuckled, feeling you melt under his palms, glad that he was bringing you some amount of relief and comfort from your pain.

“Better?” He cooed, massaging your hips.

“God mode.” You sighed, pressing your cheek to your forearms.

“Glad to be of service.” Henry laughed, kissing the back of your head. “Let's get these pizzas together.” He said, squeezing your hips and moved away, pulling out some ingredients for a quick pizza sauce. “This'll only take about ten minutes.” He said, pulling out a saucepan and set it on the stove.

“The suspense is killing us.” You teased, watching him add olive oil over medium heat, followed by crushed tomatoes, Italian seasoning, dried oregano leaves, basil and thyme, sea salt, freshly ground pepper and a dash of sugar with minced garlic.

“There we go! Now, to assemble these and fire them!” He smiled, carefully pouring the sauce into a bowl.

Using the still floured cutting board, Henry stretched both pizza dough into something that sort of resembled a circle, then put a thin layer of sauce on it, before grabbing the fresh mozzarella, cutting slices of it and layering them all over the pizzas, followed by the toppings you wanted on one of them, then the toppings he wanted on his.

“Onion, really?” You commented, watching him spread them out.

“It's not broccoli.” Henry smirked at you.

“Touche.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes, playfully. “They look good.” You smiled, nodding your head, approving.

“That they do.” Henry agreed, smiling across the island at you. “Any last minute adjustments?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow at you.

“Nope.” You shook your head, excited about the pizza.

“All right, let's get them get them baked then.” He said, picking up the cutting board and started towards the backyard again.

You slipped off the stool and followed after him, stepping onto the back deck as Henry set the pizzas on the shelf connected to the Egg, then opened its lid and lit the charcoal beneath it. Closing the lid again, so the grill would preheat, then glanced over at you and frowned.

“I'll be right back. Protect the pizza, Kal might try and steal them.” He chuckled, before going back inside for a moment and coming out with one of his hoodies. “Here, so you don't get cold.”

“Thanks.” You smirked, taking the dark blue garment from him and slipping it on, the soothing scent of Henry filling your nose as it settled around you.

You watched Henry check the thermometer on top of the grill's dome, opened the lid, releasing a rush of heat, then grabbed your pizza, wanting to feed you and the baby first, knowing you must be starving at this point, and situated it on the hot pizza stone, before shutting the lid again and set a timer.

“Here's to hoping these come out well.” He said, taking a seat beside you.

“I have all the faith in you.” You smiled at him, resting your shoulder against his.

“Oh, I forgot to take a photo of your pizza, before I put it in!” Henry gasped, slapping the heel of his palm to his forehead.

You laughed at him, shaking your head. “It'll be fine. You can still take one of yours, and take one of mine after it comes out.” You told him, patting his thigh.

“Yeah, true.” He nodded, digging his phone out of his pocket and pulling up his camera, then stood and snapped a couple angles of his pizza, before noticing he had a missed call from his manager, but brushed it off, not wanting to take his attention off of you and the great time the two of you were having.

“So, have you been thinking about names?” He asked, sitting back down next to you, pocketing his phone.

“I have.” You replied, with a soft sigh. “I've got a small list so far.” You told him, pulling out your own phone and pulled up a Google Document, before passing your phone over to Henry.

“Let's see what you have.” He smiled, skimming through the list. “Oliver, is a good name. Tristan. I like Gideon. Jason is really strong and solid.” He said, liking the names you had. “Skylar is unique.” He smiled, glance over at you, and handing your phone back.

“Kelly wanted me to add, Dane, to the list, because she's a fan of Dane Cook, the comedian.” You explained, taking your phone. “But all I could think of was kids at school and the playground making fun of him and calling him, Great Dane.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Yeah, kids can be very cruel.” Henry agreed, a shiver running down his spine.

Henry's alarm went off and he opened the Egg, filling the air around you with the alluring scent of the pizza, making you moan and your mouth water, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you leaned forward, catching sight of the golden crust, bubbling and melted cheese, and caramelized bacon, your stomach rumbled and the baby kicked in anticipation. Henry slipped a pizza board underneath the pizza and gently lifted it, checking beneath it to make sure it was thoroughly cooked, before pulling it out and setting it back on the cutting board.

“It's a little more brown on the bottom.” He said, putting his in next.

“That's fine, as long as it's edible.”

“Definitely is!” Henry smiled, leaning over your steaming pizza and took a deep whiff of it.

“All that we care about then!” You grinned, rubbing your dancing belly.

“Oh, he's so excited to try my pizza!” Henry said, proudly, laying his hand on your stomach. “I'm flattered, little guy!” He beamed, rubbing whatever appendage pressed against his palm.

“Compliments to the cook.” You giggled, looking up at him.

With both pizzas cooked, you and Henry went back inside the mews, where Henry made you a fresh cup of Ginger tear, before you both settled on the couch together, finding something to watch on the tv, while munching on your food.

“You out did yourself, Hen.” You moaned, nodding your head as you ate your bite of pizza. “This is perfect.” You told him, finding it was just the right proportion of crust, sauce and toppings. “How's yours?” You asked, looking over at him.

“Other than being maybe in a minute or two longer than needed,” He answered, inspecting the half-eaten slice in his hand. “It's pretty delicious. So, I'd say we nailed dinner.” He smiled, proud of the teamwork and outcome.

“I quite agree.” You smiled, taking another bite.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” You asked, after helping Henry wash the dishes.

“Absolutely not!” He replied, putting the last plate on the dry rack. “Let me get a towel for you.” He said, moving around you and to the linen closet in the hallway outside his bedroom, taking out his fluffiest towel and set it on the bathroom counter, then stood there for a moment, tapping his foot, then turned and went into his walk-in closet, pulling one of his shirts off of the hanger and added it with the towel.

“That's a stupid idea.” He mumbled to himself, reaching out to grab it.

“You in there, this little person has to pee.” You called out, laughing.

“Fuck.” Henry barked, scurrying out of the bathroom. “All yours.” He smiled, hoping he looked casual.

“Thanks, I wouldn't want to upset Kal, by popping a squat in the yard and cover up one of his spots.” You joked, oblivious. “Might start a turf war.”

“I'm pretty sure it would.” Henry laughed back, relaxing, always finding himself at ease with you.

You grinned at him, gently touching his arm as you brushed by him into the bathroom. Henry bit his lip as he watched the bathroom door close, but swallowed it down and went about settling the house for bedtime. He grabbed a pillow from his bed and a blanket from the hall closet and started making up the couch, listening to the sound of the running shower in his room, while also trying not to think about your naked body, dripping wet.

“Stop, Cavill.” He hissed at himself, punch fluffing his pillow against the arm of the couch. “It's not going to happen.” He told himself, sure you wouldn't want anything of the sort, while you were expecting.

The shower cut off and a few minutes later you came out into the living room, Henry looked up at you from where he sat on the couch and instantly beamed, you stood beside the couch in nothing, but a pair of underwear and his shirt, your belly making a tent in the front of the black fabric, you looked so beautiful.

“Feel better?” He asked, looking you over.

“Much.” You nodded at him, smiling back at him. “What are you doing?” You frowned, motioning to the couch.

“Going to bed.” He replied, patting the pillow.

“Here?” You asked, surprised.

“Well, I can't have you sleeping on the couch.” Henry replied, chuckling.

“But this is also your house.” You countered, lifting a brow at him. “Besides, we're both adults, aren't we?” You asked, a lingering suggestion in your eyes.

The tip of Henry's tongue poked out, licking his lips as he stared back at you, his blue eyes darkening. “We are.” He nodded, agreeing at you.

“Then, why don't we go to bed?” You asked, cocking your head towards the hallway leading to Henry's bedroom.

A smirk tugged up one corner of Henry's mouth. “I won't argue with that logic.” He replied, standing up and grabbing his pillow.

“I shouldn't hope so.” You chuckled, following him down the hall to bed.

Henry tossed his pillow on the bed and pulled the blankets down, while you turned the lights out, then met each other on either side of the bed. A slight shyness coming over you both, before you climbed into bed first. Henry took a calming breath and laid down on his back beside you, feeling slightly stiff, he had just closed his eyes and was trying to will himself to sleep, when your side of the bed jerked and you burst out into a fit of giggles.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked, unable to prevent the grin from pulling across his mouth as he listened to you become almost hysterical.

“You're so stiff!” You laughed, tears streaming down your face. “What are you worried about? That scene for Alien, where that little creature pops out of John Hurt's stomach?” You asked, slipping your hand under the blankets and pushed it out above your belly.

Henry's head jerked back on his pillow, as he fell into a fit of laughter himself, pressing his palms to his face. You snorted as you watched Henry fall apart beside you, and felt him relax as well. He pulled his hands away from his face, the rise and fall of his chest slowed down as he caught his breath, he looked over at you, still grinning, and his blue eyes shining with amusement.

“It's just I've never really been in bed with a woman before, the first time, without it being...intimate.” He confessed, chewing on his bottom lip. “So, I'm not entirely sure what to do with myself.”

You laid there for a moment. “We could cuddle.” You suggested, meeting his eye again.

“I don't want to crowd you.” Henry protested, softly.

“Trust me, I can't get anymore crowded.” You chuckled, pointing to your belly.

“Yeah, you can move away from me, you can't do that with the baby, now can you?” He smirked, shyly.

“Nope, he lets me know that all the time, too.” You chuckled, rubbing your stomach over the blankets.

“Well, I'm down for snuggles with the two of you.” Henry confessed, liking the idea of you cradled against him.

“All right then.” You smirked, then turned onto your side.

Henry gulped softly, turning to face you and wiggled closer, while gently easing his tall and muscular body around you, pressing his knees into the back of your calves, his hand lightly resting on your hip and sighed as he relaxed, a gentle smile on his lips. You rested your back against Henry's chest, loving the warmth radiating off him and seeping into you, making you hum contently. Reaching out to take his hand from your hip, you gently placed it on your belly with a gently pat, making Henry chuckle and kiss the back of your head.

It was a few hours later that Henry woke alone in bed and frowned, sitting up, feeling his heart start to race and breathing quicken, not understanding why you weren't in bed with him anymore. Had you waited until he fell asleep, then crept back home, or had something happened with the baby and you just hadn't bothered waking him to go to the hospital. So caught up in his panic, Henry didn't hear the flush from the master bathroom or you calling out his name.

“Henry.” You repeated his name, quickly waddling to the edge of the bed, freaked out as you watched him gasp for air, reaching out to lay your hand on his shoulder, making him start. “It's all right, Henry. It's just me.” You reassured him, eyes wide with concern.

“You're still here.” He wheezed, looking at you, surprised.

You looked around the room, then back at Henry. “Yeah.” You nodded, brow pinching. “I just had to pee.” You told him, slowly sitting down on the bed next to him. “Where else would I be, Hen?” You asked, gently rubbing his back, trying to calm him down.

Henry took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, scrubbing his palms over his face, feeling stupid and clingy. “I'm so sorry. I just woke up, and you weren't there. I don't know what came over me.” He rasped, gulping thickly.

“It's fine.” You nodded, offering him a sweet smile, brushing your fingers through the back of his hair. “You want to lay back down?” You asked, motioning behind him.

Henry nodded and the two you laid back down, curling up together, Henry's hand moving around to cup the underside of your stomach, reassured by the gentle bumps of the baby pressing against it as he fell back to sleep.

When Henry woke up the next morning, you were still nestled against him, snoring softly and relaxed, he couldn't help, but watch you sleep for a while longer, before carefully getting out of bed, so he could start his fasted cardio for the day. But, he didn't make it to his elliptical, when his house phone rang and he ran to pick it up, before it woke you up.

“Hello!” He answered in a loud whisper.

“Henry, why haven't you been answering my calls!” His manager barked back.

“Dany.” Henry grinned, clearing his throat. “I've had company over.”

“Oh yeah, is it the pregnant woman you were photographed with?” Dany asked, her voice no less searing.

A hard lump formed in Henry's throat. “What?” He squeaked, eye twitching.

“Photos of you and a pregnant woman have been popping up all over online, most recently at the airport. But the blaring ones are of you getting into an altercation at a grocery store, with her.” Dany told him.

“So, who's the father, Henry?” She asked, bluntly.

Henry almost blurted out that he was, just to shut his manager and the rumor mills up, but he bit his tongue and raked a hand through his hair. “Her ex-boyfriend.” He sighed, dropping into a chair in his dining room. “She and I met on Tinder,”

“You made a Tinder profile, without telling me!” Dany barked, horrified.

“It was a moment of...desperation...of—loneliness, Dany.” Henry admitted to his manager, biting his lip. “I didn't actually expect to match and meet up with anyone, let alone a woman that was a couple months pregnant. But we started talking and...” A grin pulled across his face as he thought about the last several months he had spoken to and hung out with you. “I don't regret a single moment of it. It's been amazing, she's amazing, and so is that little one inside of her.”

“Henry, you're not that kid's father, you have a career to focus on, and a project in Jordan to think about.”

“And I am focusing on those things, Dany.” He frowned, not liking her tone or what she seemed to be hinting at. “I can do both.”

“Are you telling me, you want to help her raise a child that isn't yours?” Dany asked, sounding skeptical. “Did she ask you too?”

Henry pressed his lips together, mauling the idea over, he hadn't considered the idea fully, neither of you had really voiced how serious your relationship was. But the more Henry thought about it, the more his head bobbed. Yes, if your relationship turned to the serious, he would do everything in his power to help you raise that little boy, he didn't care if he was the biological father or not.

What mattered to Henry was you and the baby.

“Yes, I would.” He finally answered Dany. “We haven't spoken about it, yet. But we still have time too, and that's between her and I. No one else, Dany.” He told her, firmly.

“Fine then, but people are talking about her online.” Dany sighed, shaking her head.

“That's nothing new.” He replied, rolling his eyes. “They're going to think what they think. We can't change that, and I'm not going to force her into something she doesn't want.” He told her, knowing you liked your privacy, and wanted to respect that.

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill x reader #viking-raider fics #henrycavill #henry cavill fanfic #Swipe #Swipe *Fic* #Fluff #Cotton Candy Goodness #Angst #Sass #Henry Cavill Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fandom #Henry Cavill x You #Henry Cavill/Reader #Henry Cavill x Pregnant!Reader #Part Three #pregnant!reader

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff 

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.) 

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not. 

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look,"  you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him.  First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions. 

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him. 

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

#ilovehimsomuchcanhestopbeingcute #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fics #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake #jakesim #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake fluff #jake sim x reader #enhypen jake imagine #enhyphen imagines #jake fluff #jake sim #jake shim #iland #iland jake #iland imagines #jake

[thetourguidebarbie]

Holy fuck your parents read your blog. I'm sorry, oh i'm so sorry, i'm sorry. My principal caught me reading you're stories because I get notification when you update them and he one of those invasive assholes that leans over your shoulder and sees what you're doing (thank god he didn't) and I slammed my screen down so hard that I thought I'd broken it for a fast sec.

LOL it was a few years ago, but yes. Luckily my parents are super sex positive and not invasive on purpose. She knew I wrote smut but I think she thought Fingerpainting would be safe. She told me it was good, and not to worry because she skipped the sex bits. In retrospect it was kind of hilarious, but at the time I was horrified.

And I am sorry you nearly got caught reading my fic by your principal lol. I hope your computer is okay! XD Also I’m flattered that you have me on alerts!! That’s super sweet 💙

#personal #angie adults #anon #ask #answer