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loveshotzz · 7 months

Note

I hope I’m not late for request this🥹:

[inside one muses’s office] with AIRWIY!Steve? And reader give him his first blowjob?🥹

So this one got a little out of hand, but 🥺 I love him and he deserves the best head in the world if you ask me. Thank you for your request! 💕 I hope you like it!

older!steve x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ age gap, new established relationship, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, smidge of size kink, smidge of daddy kink, finger sucking, swallowing.

wc: 2.8k

A/N: This request is apart of my completed series All I Really Want Is You, but can be read as a stand alone. For those that read the series this takes place shortly after chapter ten.

It was supposed to be a nice lunch in his office on your day off. You weren’t supposed to be giving him elevator eyes from the other side of his desk while he complained to you about his day. But no one had warned you about what middle of the work day Steve looked like. Not quite as dishievied as the end of it when he’s checking his mail, but not put together like when you see him leave his house through your bedroom window when the sun is barely touching the sky. More importantly, you didn’t know about the glasses.

The thin silver frames sit perched on the end of his nose with hair that looks like he just started running his hands through it. The slicked back style it began the day in still sticks to some of his auburn locks while the rest develop a crazed mind of their own. He had popped open the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, revealing a matching tank top underneath and the beginnings of the soft dark thatch of hair that covers his chest. His sleeves are rolled up to the middle of his forearms, and the tan he still has left over from the last few days of summer makes his skin look bronzed. The scruff that lines his jaw is thicker today than he’d usually allow too, but that’s because he’d forgotten his razor in your bathroom the last night he slept over.

God, he was handsome.

“Wrapping up at the end of a season, especially one where we didn’t make it to the finals has been nightmare, honey.” He rubs his eyes from under his glasses leaning back in his seat.

He was stressed too.

The leather squeaks with his movements, and your gaze finds its way to his newly revealed waist. His black dress slacks are pulled tight over his thighs, and the silver buckle of his belt gleams when it hits the sun spilling in from his office windows.

“Just one more week till your vacation,” you remind him gently, your fingers playing with the hem of the sundress and you catch the way his eyes track your movements, wetting his lips.

“One more week till I get to have you all for myself.” He counters, making you giddy at the thought of your first trip together to New York, “enough about my day though. Let me get a better look at this pretty dress you’re wearin’, is it new?”

There’s heat flickering behind his gaze when he gestures for you to stand in front of him, something a little mischievous in his grin that makes your skin buzz.

“Yeah, I got it at Lost Girls after work the other day. I’d been looking at it for a while through the window, thought I’d do something nice for myself.” Your nerves make you ramble as you get up, but Steve thinks it’s cute. He thinks everything you do is cute.

“It’s really, really nice baby,” he praises when you get in front of him letting his eyes roam all the ways it hugs your curves just right, like it was made custom for your body and his slacks get a little tighter. “You look so beautiful, give me a little twirl.”

Your face burns like it’s the middle of June at his request, and the golden emerald of his eyes get darker from behind his lenses. The air around you both turns electric when your already short hem flutters out around the tops of your thighs, spinning around twice for him, just enough to give a glimpse of the red lace that hugs your ass cheeks underneath.

“You gonna be wearing this tonight when I pick you up for dinner?” He asks with big hands reaching out for you, begging you to get closer.

“I didn’t know we had plans tonight.” You giggle letting your wedges carry you to the space he made for you between his legs. The cedar and spice of his cologne envelopes your senses when you get close enough for his hands to find the back of your thighs pulling you to him with a squeal.

The whites of his teeth show when he looks up at you with a smile that steals your breath away, squeezing at the soft dough under his palms.

“What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t show you off any chance I got?” The pads of his thumbs swipe against the hem of the lace that meets at the curve of your ass, butterflies in your stomach because you’ll never get used to hearing him say that.

“Yeah, I’ll wear it, handsome.” You agree, making him hum in approval.

He lets you run your fingers through the soft silk of his hair, silver strands showing themselves to you in a mess of dirty blonde and auburn as you scratch along his scalp. Steve groans at the feeling and it goes straight to your core, his long fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, leaning his forehead against the soft pudge of your tummy with his eyes closed.

“Fuck,” He mumbles against you, the wheels on his chair roll him closer as his hands grip higher, warm palms finding the dough of your buttcheeks when you scratch at the nape of his neck.

You watch the way his shoulders slump, the muscles in his body finally starting to unwind from your touch. You want to unwind him more.

“Steve?” His name comes out in just above a whisper, your nerves threatening to get the best of you.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, too lost in the feeling of your nails dragging over his scalp.

“Let me take care of you.” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tug a little at his roots asking him to meet your gaze.

“Honey,” It doesn’t sound like a protest, and it doesn’t feel like it either when his nails dig half crescent moons into the backs of your thighs, staring up at you with wide eyes.

You remember the empty hallways on your way up. Everyone was gone for the season, including Richard.

“You’ve been working so hard, you deserve it.” You cup the side of his face, your body buzzing when he leans into your touch. “Will you let me?”

“I - “ Wetting his lips, Steve glances at the door before bringing his attention back to you, “yeah, okay, shit, yeah.”

You hold his heavy lidded gaze with a confidence he’s never seen before as you drop to your knees, the nails that were just in his hair dragging along his thighs and it sends him reeling. He doesn’t know how long you’ve thought about this.

The carpet is rough on your freshly lotioned skin, the bottom hem of your dress pulling up over the tops of your thighs. Leaning back in his chair, the new angle gives him the perfect view down the deep heart shaped neckline of your dress. The necklace he got you on your first date shimmers just above the swell of your breasts and it makes his cock press into the metal of his zipper. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now.

“You want this baby?” His voice comes out gruff when he asks, the gold inside his eyes darkening to something almost black as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You have no idea, just how bad I want it … daddy.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, you punch the air out of his lungs in a low exhale through his nose when you don’t hesitate to start working at the silver of his belt buckle.

“Fuck, you can’t say - ” He huffs out exasperated, contemplating taking a half day so he can spend the rest of it in bed with you.

Leather squeaks underneath him when he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants down. The hard outline of him strains against his briefs, mouth watering when you notice the darkened spot where he’s already leaking into the black cotton. More confident now, your palms find purchase on the tops of his hairy thighs, leaning forward you let heat of your breath make him twitch, earning a low groan when your lips trail like a ghost behind it.

“Can’t say what?” Your tone drips innocence, your bottom lip tugging down against the covered head of his cock before lifting your gaze with a mischievous smirk, relishing in the sharp inhale he takes through his teeth.

“I think you’re gonna kill me.” He almost laughs, running a hand over his face. Pushing up his glasses in the process he settles his heavy gaze on you with a lazy grin as they slide down the slope of his nose.

You hum, glossed lips twisting at the corners as you hook your fingers in the elastic of his briefs, giving them a gentle pull to signal what you want. Steve gives it to you without any hesitation, the full weight of his cock slapping against his stomach making your thighs press at the thought of being stretched by it. The pink tip swipes against the hem of his button up that sits rucked up at his belly button and you don’t think you’ll ever be immune to just how big and pretty he is.

“That wouldn’t be very nice of me huh?” you tease looking up at him with a pout.

“Nuh-uh” He mumbles, face crumpling a little watching your fingers try to wrap around the base of him, the tips of them just barely meeting on the other side. The grip he has on the armrest of his chair, stretches his skin so tight the whites of his knuckles start to show.

“And, I wanna be nice,” he feels like velvet in your hand, the pad of your thumb tracing the large vein that runs up the side, before swiping over his sensitive head. You collect what he’s already given to you with enough pressure to make his toes curl inside his wingtip dress shoes.

Leaning forward, you slowly let your tongue run the length of him, feeling the way he twitches against the muscle before paying extra attention to what’s weeping for you, swirling your tongue around the tip. Salty and little sweet from the way he drinks his coffee in the morning, you hum pleased when he hits your taste buds.

“God, honey.”

You don’t give him any warning when you wrap your lips around him, a greedy tongue flattening along the underside. Gagging when he hits the back of your throat, you still try to open up just a little more, your hand keeping up with what you can’t reach.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve’s jaw goes slack, eyelids growing too heavy to keep open at the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His head pushes further into his chair while he fights to keep his hands from flying to the back of yours.

Scooting closer, you feel him spread his legs even more, and your hand that’s not wrapped around the base of his cock, slides down his thigh. The blunt ends of your nails dragging through the rough curls that cover it.

“That’s - that’s so - shit, you’re making me feel so fucking good.” He grunts, finally working up enough strength to pry his eyes open to get a look at what he’s dreamed of a million times alone in the shower. “Always so good to me baby.”

You moan at his words, the praise drowning out the dull throb in your knees from the hard floor, and your throat opens up just a little more, the tip of your nose a ghost against his thick happy trail.

“You like that?” The tone he uses is deep, like someone laced the honey it’s always had for you with cinnamon. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck even harder, the wetness between your legs only getting worse when he lets out a strangled groan. You slowly work up the length of his cock with tight lips, before releasing him with a loud ‘pop’. For a second Steve thinks he might add more to the shining mess that covers your face, spit still connecting your chin to his sensitive head.

You drag your teeth over your swollen bottom lip, his dark eyes tracking the movement when it pops back into place, twitching in your hand that hasn’t stopped pumping him. He thinks he likes this better than your gloss. You nod in response with a smile and he can’t believe is a little shy.

Leaning forward, he wipes your chin with his thumb before tracing where your teeth just were with the pad of it. His eyes darken even more when your mouth opens, strawberry lips wrapping around him with no hesitation.

Yeah, you’re going to kill him.

“Fuck, look at you,” He pushes down on your tongue, watching the way your thighs press under your dress sucking on the digit with the same force. “I’m so lucky.”

You moan around him, the motions of your wrist getting faster, and the urge to taste him becomes unbearable. With a gentle scrap of your teeth you let go of his thumb, pushing up on your knees to beg for a kiss. The wheels of his chair clink against the hinges when he eagerly accepts your request, one of his hands finding the back of your neck pulling you closer to lick into your mouth without a second thought.

Your teeth scrape together, tongues battling for dominance while the stubble that lines his jaw threatens to rub your skin raw, but you don’t care. The inside of your thighs start to get sticky and the large vein that runs up the side of his cock pulses against your palm with the need for your attention. It’s the only thing that can get you to pull away from his lips that won’t stop devouring yours.

It’s with new determination that you take him back into the heat of his mouth, doing your best to take him deeper down your throat than before. He moans your name loud enough that you’re sure anyone in this part of the building would hear if they were actually in their offices. He lets a big hand find the back of your head this time, while both of yours find the tops of his thighs.

Your cheeks hollow again while your tongue wraps around as much as you can get, more spit, more slick to bob in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips. The tip of him catches at the back of your throat, and the way it squeezes his head when your reflex hits makes his toes curl, fingers burying themselves in your hair to keep you there.

“Oh, that’s - that’s it- take the whole thing. Shit. You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop. Good girl, good girl.”

Each snap of his hips gets as desperate as his babbling, like he’s completely forgotten he’s still at work. One of your hands leaves his thigh to cup his balls that have been screaming for attention since the moment you walked into his office in that dress. Rolling them in your palm is the final touch that makes his vision go white behind his eyes, body tensing and face going slack just like his jaw.

“Baby, baby, baby.”

Twitching, he spills hot down the back of your throat and you try to swallow as much of it as you can before it dribbles down your chin, dripping onto your chest. His full weight falls back onto his chair, the wheels it’s on moving just enough to have him slide half soft from the warm velvet of your mouth. He tasted even better than you’d imagined, promising yourself you were going to do this again to him after dinner.

Chest heaving, a breathy laugh escapes him, and the hand that was buried in your hair runs through his before his eyes open up back to their normal golden brown. His cheeks flush pink when he gets a look at the mess he made of you, and it only deepens when you collect the spend that found its way to the swell of your breasts with the pads of your fingers before sucking them clean.

“I think I’m gonna take a half day.”

#my writing #all i really want is you #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #older!steve harrington #older!steve

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the-orange-tabby-cat · 2 months

Text

Wednesday

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: For the last 5 years, every Wednesday you watched a handsome man walk by your street with a lilac bouquet in hands. Except he doesn't stroll on your street this Wednesday, he shows up at your grief support group. 🐾

read on AO3 | masterlist | previous chapter Warnings: No outbreak AU, Grief and its implications, Reader lost her mom, Reader's mom has a name (but no physical description), Group therapy, Grief support group, Parent grief, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Fluff, No use of y/n Word count of the chapter: 3,7k

A/N: For the longest time I've thought "What if Joel lost Sarah anyway?" and this became the answer to this question. I have no clue about how big this series will be, but I do know I want to explore grief and loss with these two in the most delicate way possible. Hope you enjoy it 🐾

I. LILAC

Coffee. Sketchbook. Balcony. Five years of waking up early on Wednesdays, grabbing a cup of coffee, and sitting near the railings to wait for him. Like a clock, at 8 am sharp he appears by the street corner with a lilac bouquet under his arm.

His strong profile will be the only thing in your vision for a few minutes as he walks by. You drew it so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. The man will walk by at a steady pace without looking around (brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t fuck with me” kind of sign), focused on his way down the street.

Tall, dark hair and a patchy beard with a square jaw… He is dreamy, but also out of reach. Where is he going? Why the lilacs? Are they for a woman, his wife maybe? Every Wednesday at 8 am, never a minute late, both he and you.

As you took a sip of your coffee, you glanced over the watch marking 7:58 am, he would be here any minute. You prepared the table in expectancy, what outfit would he be wearing today? You hoped for the green shirt, but the blue one wouldn’t be as bad.

7:59 am. His hair is a little overgrown now, but you like the way his curls frame his face. The broadness of his shoulders and how tall he looks next to the other pedestrians. You aren’t sure of the color of his eyes from afar, maybe green or brown.

8:01 am and no signal of him. This is a first. Maybe you mistook the day of the week, check your phone, and… No, Wednesday still. You squirm in your seat, impatiently looking for him. 8:07 am, he never got so late. Should you keep waiting? You don’t even know his name.

At 8:30 am you give up. A wave of melancholy fills the air. Oh god, be for fucking real, are you really sad because a strange man and his stupid lilacs didn’t walk down your street?

“Don’t forget: 9 am at the gate”, you reread your grandpa's text.

You couldn’t be able to forget it, but deep down wish you could avoid it. Cemeteries aren’t your thing, the constant reminder of the death surrounding you. However, they are Grandpa’s way of dealing with it and who are you to judge?

The sketchbook is opened at the last page you drew, with the man staring in front of him fully angered. How did you end up with over 200+ drawings of a man you never met? The doctor said finding a hobby would help and so you did: drawing. “You see what no one else sees”, your mom used to say and you decided to take a test. Too bad your eyes landed on a strange man walking down the street, holding on tightly to a lilac bouquet. Even worse he had been doing the same path for five years right in front of your balcony. The only things in your sketchbook are his face, his hands, and the bouquet. This is your third one since you kept running out of pages.

As you put the sketchbook away, your mind drifted away to your mother’s (possible) commentary. “Don’t be silly, he will come by later, I’m sure something happened” and she, most likely, would be right. She was always right. 8:50 am and with your chest tightened from “talking” to her inside your mind, your feet landed at the cemetery’s gate.

“No flowers? Really? Who raised you, pigs?”, your grandpa said narrowing his eyes at you.

He, of course, was an impeccable mess in his hat, black coat, thin-framed glasses that gave him a Bond villainesque look. In his rugged hands a white rose bouquet, carefully made and held by.

“If I remember right, and I do remember it, we are talking about the same woman who said that flowers are for the living, not the dead.” He rolled his eyes in response but in good fun. “Why the flowers then?”

“My biggest mistake was to raise a woman a little too avant-garde, wasn’t it? C’mon, we don’t have the whole day,” he deep sighed while showing you the way.

You knew the path, but your feet seemed to avoid getting there, that’s why you followed Grandpa’s steps in the hope of not turning around and leave. It was a little ritualistic if you were honest: Grandpa would have some kind of gift in his hands that he would leave at the tombstone, and you would pretend to do not care as you deeply cared about it. She wasn’t there anymore, she hadn’t been for a long time.

Behind his glasses, you could see a lost man driven by grief. His hands shaking as he cleaned her name at the tombstone, the gaze avoiding yours. He would always wear black on cemetery days, as if the time never passed and it was the first visit yet.

“Want to go first?” He asked, you sighed in response. “Don’t know why I still ask.”

“It’s… Fine. You know she was a Buddhist, right? She believed in reincarnation. I feel a little silly talking to her,” you confessed while chewing the lip corners.

“Oh, trust me: I knew her the same amount as you, maybe even more. She was my daughter, for fuck’s sake.” Startled, you looked at him in shock at the rare occasion he would curse. Shit. “I’m not here because of her beliefs or lifestyle. Do you quote her inside your head? Because I do too, I too remember every small detail of her. I’m here because it’s how I tell myself she isn’t fully gone. So sorry if I’m too old-fashioned and feel like talking a few words at my daughter's tombstone with my grandaughter who, honestly? Could show a little more love towards her right now. I want to talk with her like we used to at the kitchen table on Sundays, I want to bring her flowers just like I did on her birthday and there is no Buddha, Allah, or a flying horse that can stop me. Now, can you open your fucking mouth and say something nice to your mom about your week?”

Silence took the space for a second before you simply replied with, “Better?”

“Yes, a lot. Thank you for asking, now go on, please.” He adjusted his hat and cleared his throat. You hummed, getting a little courage to look directly at the tombstone.

“Hum. I got a new couch last week, a velvety green one. A little too sexy, if I might, but you would probably say I need something sexy to attract someone even sexier. Am I rambling?” You asked, raising your eyes from the stone, but he made a motion for you to continue it. “Let me think, oh, the cat hunted a pigeon. It was somewhat disgusting because of the amount of feathers in my apartment…”

“Did the pigeon survive?” He asked, in his eyes with a slight curiosity.

“Yes, but by a thread. It was her cat, a little savage just like her!”

The conversation went on easily after it. Grandpa had found some old notebooks of your mom, including one with a cake recipe he would later send to you. You wouldn’t tell him, it did feel better not because you were speaking to her, but because you could watch him relax in his uptight perpetual state. In the blink of an eye, your mind wandered to the strange man and if he ever relaxed like that.

Grief is a strange thing. It took a little encouragement from your therapist and the need to move on, but you had started to go to weekly meetings of a grief support group at the local church (the only thing that made you enter that space). The first months were awkward, you went but avoided it at the same time. Slowly, it grew on you. Five years of not missing a single Wednesday, even on vacation.

Your grandpa tried once, but it just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to move on or find a meaning for it, he needed to feel his grief as second skin. You needed it to stop suffocating you, to scream and shout about that weight in the hope of someone taking it from your back.

This Wednesday wasn’t any different. You entered the church's back door with some cookies in hand, even if you were well aware that most people couldn’t eat as they exposed their pain, it was more of a sweet gesture than a necessity. The white walls and the cross in front of you completed the scenario.

“Cookies? You never eat anything,” Henry questioned while taking a bite. His dark eyes staring suspiciously at you.

“My grandpa found an old cookie recipe from my mom. How does it taste?” You replied as you watched him bite. You couldn’t bear to try it first, too anxious about it.

“Your mom was definitely a writer, not a chef. Taste like an old sock.” His face contorted as he spat out the cookie. Well, you tried something new.

“Yeah, no wonder I survived out of Lucky Charms and BTLs.” Henry laughed as you let go of your shoulder’s tension a bit.

The grief support group had grown and shrunk over the years. Sometimes people would feel good enough to leave the support, those were the lucky ones: grief was a period of their life, not an everyday thing. In other cases, they would get too depressed and leave before making some actual change in their being. You, unfortunately, were addicted to bond with the pain part of it.

Well, you and them. Henry was the first you met, totally wrecked after losing his little brother, Sam, to leukemia. He almost left college due to the weight of grief but kept it together, you even went to his graduation a few years back.

Tess came later. First, her kid died and then, in a stroke of bad luck, she found out she had a terminal disease that would, eventually, kill her. She wasn’t there to deal with the death of others, but her own. She was slowly dying and it was scary as shit. Not that you would know it from the outside, she had more strength (both physically and mentally) than most.

Frank was the group leader, conducting the discussion and creating the safe spaces. Everything you had said while hugging him, no matter how bad, never came back to hunt you. Which was odd on its own, but even odder considering his grumpy husband, Bill, was the exact opposite. Everything you did said in Bill’s direction came back to hunt you right after it came out of your mouth.

People come and go, but you stay there. Grabbing your regular place at the circle, putting the name tag on your shirt, and drinking some water just in case you cry. Except today you have someone new seated across you.

His strong nose and patchy beard hint someone you do know. His square jaw tensed up, brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t talk to me, I want to go home” that you could draw with eyes closed. The name tag reads “Joel”. You were right, his eyes are brown.

It feels weird to look at him without a pen and paper in hand, but it feels just right to see his features up close. Tess brings him coffee - black, you noticed - and gives him an eye silently saying “Don’t fuck it up”.

The meeting starts, Frank asks who is there for the first time. Joel and a woman, Hannah, raise their hands.

“It’s tradition to introduce ourselves at our first meeting. You don’t need to tell the details of why you are here or who you are, just simple information that people can distinguish you from the rest of the group.” Frank explains to a tired Joel, who sighs in response while Hannah overshares who she is.

Of course he doesn’t want to be there. Nobody wants to. You wish you could leave every time you cross the door, but know that the moment the meeting starts to develop you will want to continue in that deep state of pouring your heart out.

“I’m Joel, my friend Tess convinced me to come. That’s it.” He simply states, loud and straight. You catch Frank laughing.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to push you a little on it. Why did you accept to come here?” Joel furrows even deeper at the provocation.

“I didn’t. She trapped me.” Tess raises her very blonde eyebrows at him, who snaps. “You did trap me. Call me saying it was an emergency, I go to your house expecting the worst and you lock me inside there until the time to come here after I said I wouldn’t go to a grief support group.”

“See? He is an asshole, he needs this.” She answers Frank, making sure he gets her points. Your mom was right, something had happened to him.

“So, Joel, why are you here still?” Frank subtly asks.

“I beg your pardon?” Joel’s eyes are softer now, getting caught off guard. He doesn’t have any argument for it.

“Yes Joel, why are you still here? I’m not trapping you in this char, nobody is holding you down.” Tess retorts her mouth in his direction, that scoffs and looks around the room. When his eyes look into yours, you smile coyly unable to retain yourself.

“Sir, please continue.” Accepting defeat, Joel crosses his arms around his chest, fully ignoring Tess's triumphant smile.

“You are free to leave at any point, no need to tell us why. But I guarantee that if you stay, you might learn we aren’t that bad.” Frank nods in his direction, gaining a hard sigh. “Let’s start. Before every meeting, we say out loud the names of those who have gone to allow ourselves to think about them without shame, remorse, or guilt. You know the drill, Henry?”

“Sam,” Henry says firmly.

“Abigail,” you speak loudly.

Another silly little gesture, but you do allow yourself to think about her after it. Every single time. It’s almost as if the weight of her, the one that you carry around all day and pretend isn’t there suffocating you, comes to sit by you, not on you.

“Teresa,” Tess points at her.

“Sarah,” Joel almost murmurs looking at the ground. His hands are fidgeting, his mind in another place.

You have been there, you know how strange it is to say it for the first time out loud after a while, sounds forbidden and partly awkward. You aren’t supposed to say it to strangers, it’s sacred just for you, and yet, here you are saying it to whoever wants to share this pain with you.

You wonder if Sarah liked lilac flowers.

Some people speak about how they dealt with grief during the week until Frank asks you how the cemetery visit went. The group knows that meeting your grandpa there gives you a chill up the spine.

“I think I forget that he is allowed to grieve as he needs. I know all these little parts of her, how she lived her life. I’m quick to fight because she isn’t here to defend herself. I’m not even sure she would like for me to defend the memory of who she is… Sorry, was. Of who she was.” You swallow dryly, trying to ignore the miswording. “He bought her flowers. She always said that flowers were for the living, not the dead, and yet, he bought her a bouquet. I got frustrated, felt like he was trying to put her in a box of who he wanted her to be.

“He put me in my place quickly, even said fuck.” Henry makes some noise in surprise, you nod agreeing. “Exactly, it dawned on me: the flowers are for him, not for her. Just like his grief and how he needs to express it is only for himself, not for me to judge. I think he misses her more than he tells me. If I could go back in time, I would have implored him to cremate her and stop this nonsense of going to her grave, checking her tombstone, giving her damn flowers.”

“Maybe the flowers are his way of saying out loud that he cares too. She was his daughter before being your mother.” Joel speaks out loud, getting your full attention. His arms are still crossed, but now his eyes are lost in thought, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it.

“Maybe. I just wish he allowed himself to stop pretending she is still here. I want to think of her without feeling guilty that she isn’t. He is too busy missing her to notice that I’m missing him.” You answer locking eyes with Joel, who chews the corners of his mouth, once again deep in thought.

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to do it, need help.” His voice soft, just like his eyes.

“Maybe.” You give in, feeling that Joel isn’t speaking about your grandpa. You swallow as you remember the lilacs.

The meeting runs smoothly. The group finishes by drinking coffee before parting ways. Frank is chatting by the corner with Joel, who is running a hand by the nape of his neck. Curiosity gets the best of you and, before you can stop, you question Tess.

“Who is Sarah?”

“A million-dollar question, huh?” She teases as she sips her sugary coffee. Henry looks between you two, waiting for a response. “You both haven’t heard from me, I’ll deny til death that I’ve ever said it. His daughter, she died a few years back. He hasn’t been the same since. That motherfucker goes to her grave every fucking Wednesday.”

“He visits her every Wednesday?” The number of drawings of Joel walking down your street early in the morning with a lilac bouquet makes more sense. His face, his fast speed, how he ignored everyone that walked by, how he never noticed you at your balcony.

“Yes, she died on a Wednesday, he relives that event every week since.”

Frank walks in your direction, Joel right behind him looking everywhere, except your face. If he only knew how much you have looked at his face before.

“I recall you haven’t been a mentor yet, right?” Frank starts and you nod, curious about where he is going. “Amazing! You’ll have your first newbie. Joel, you’re in good hands.”

He leaves before you can say anything, whether yes or no. Fuck. Joel is confused as well, still looking like he would rather leave. You open your mouth and go grab your phone.

“Sooooo… How was your first meeting?” Flipping through your phone until find your own number isn’t a good move to show that you are smart, trustful and worthy but right now you only want to avoid his brown eyes.

“Pass.” You blink at him. “I won’t keep chit-chatting. Cut to the chase.”

“Oh damn, I thought you had softened a little with time.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes and you smirk at him, reading him like a book. “I’ll give you my number in case you need someone to talk to. And yes, you can call me anytime you want to. And no, I won’t get your number. You come to me or I won’t come to you.”

That entertains him a little. It was the first rule of your mentor, she made sure you would look for her and not the other way so you could understand when and what triggered you. Joel just nods as he saves your contact.

“When did you first contact your mentor?” He questions, sounding genuine in his curiosity.

“Diet Coke, couldn’t drink.” The furrowed brows are back, so you continue. “My mom would mostly only drink Diet Coke, after she passed away I would buy canes just to open and hear the sizzling. Couldn’t drink otherwise would vomit from stress. It was really hot and I craved one, made that call and drank it.”

“And you drank the whole thing?” His soft eyes are back and you feel a little foolish for thinking that he could have green eyes, not when the dark brown suits him so much.

“Yes and vomited right away. Still, it was worth the shot.” You smile and for a fraction of time, he smiles too.

He doesn’t call right after and neither shows up at the grief support group. You still draw him, but from memory, the last time you watched as he strolled your street it was three months ago. Something about his grief seems too personal and you feel awkward invading that space, instead, every Wednesday at 8 am you find another thing to do. It isn’t as easy as it sounds, ignoring his handsome profile and the lilacs on his hands, but you allow his privacy.

The only reminder of your favorite habit is the sketchbook at the table and the fresh lilacs decorating your balcony.

Time goes by slowly and too fast, the weight of your mom still at your back as the life surrounding you goes on its course. You almost forget about him until a Wednesday morning, 8 am sharp, your phone chimes and you pick up at the first beep.

“I can’t eat pancakes. I hate pancakes, but she loved it.” He softly says and you stop everything to listen.

“You made from scratch or store-bought?” You phrased it like it is an important question. He hums back on the phone.

“Store-bought, don’t know how to make the batch. She straight up bought only the mix.”

“Would you eat with her, despite not liking it?” Your hand slides the paper, creating his silhouette line after line.

“Yes.” He simply answered, as if it was the most common question in the world.

“What are you waiting for? Take a bite.”

And he does. The chewing sound from the other side fills the phone, your hand keeps drawing him in his overgrown hair, almost as if you could see the scene right before your eyes.

“So, was it worthed?” You ask looking at the draw as he finishes his plate.

“Still taste disgusting.” He soft replies after a second, you snort and he laughs. The sound is the most delicious thing you’ve ever heard. next chapter

#joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #wednesday series

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jsprnt · 28 days

Text

a date at the local spring fair seems to bloom your situationship into a relationship

trent alexander-arnold x reader

A/N: based on this request! Also been dyinggg to go to my local fair, so I immediately came up with this idea!! 🫶🫶 (does this photo of trent not make you weak in the knees?? 😭)

W/C: 1.804

your eyes dart to your phone screen again, reading the last text message your date sent you. he said he’d be there in a minute, so you shove your phone back into your jacket.

the fair isn’t very busy today, most likely due to it being a weekday. the weather had started picking up these past few days. gloomy, rainy winter days replaced with sunny, warm spring days.

you’d missed seeing the blue sky and the pretty, colorful flowers in the park. you had noticed most people were much happier and of course, just like the little lambs being born, symbolizing a new life- your own life seemed to also flicker to another chapter.

you and trent have known each other for a couple of months now. first meeting through a mutual friend at a small, intimate party on a rainy november night. you hadn’t thought much of it at first. of course- he was handsome, and that wasn’t something you could look away from.

you knew who he was, as a football player for one of the world’s best clubs- you’d assumed he would be too busy interacting with other people to notice you.

obviously, you also were too busy speaking to the people you did know. until- one of your mutual friends had introduced him to you.

unbeknownst to you, he’d been eyeing you across the room since he’d caught sight of the pretty smile you’d flash your friend when they said something funny. at first glance, he had almost choked on his unnecessarily expensive tequila, it burning horribly in the back of his throat.

he barely recovered from the shock before one of his best mates had dragged him across the venue, insisting he’d talk to you. only, because he thought ‘you two would be a great couple’.

you were caught off guard at first, but the looks your friends were sending you- had given you enough courage to speak to him without being flustered.

you two only hung out more after that night, accepting frequent invites to his games, and random visits to each other’s place, which only increased when trent got injured.

you look up at the shout of your name, turning around to see trent walk up to you. he’s dressed nicely as usual, comfy enough for all the rides and games you’d planned to play.

“hi!” you beam, greeted by his pearly white smile. his lips turned up when he makes eye contact with you.

“hey, you alright?” he asks, his scouser accent familiar as he gives you a warm hug. you bury your face in the crook of his neck for a moment, smelling his signature cologne.

“I’m fine, how ‘bout you and your knee?” you question, knowing that he didn’t have to wear a brace anymore.

“better, I can walk properly- at least..” he replies, the both of you starting to walk past the various games and food trucks.

it doesn’t take long before you’re both immersed into the money-grabbing games available. from popping balloons with darts to a donut-eating contest. which you won, that left you with powdered sugar all over the corners of your mouth. prompting trent to gently wipe the sugary product off with his thumb and a raised heartbeat he had difficulty controlling.

“let’s try that roller coaster over there..” you suggest, pointing up to the least intimidating one.

“you don’t want to go in the one that goes upside down?” he asks, pressing the bunny plushie you had won into his chest. you hold back a chuckle at the sight, shaking your head.

“nope, don’t trust going upside down on a rollercoaster that’s practically been pulled out of a suitcase..” you state, lining up with him so you can get on the attraction.

he chuckles at your explanation, glancing at your impatient expression. thankfully, it’s your turn after a few minutes. you both strap in safely, making sure the bars are as tight as possible against your chest and stomach.

“aren’t you scared?” he asks, looking at your giddy expression. you shake your head almost immediately, making sure your pockets are zipped so your phone won’t fall out.

soon, the cart you’re in slowly starts rolling up. your breath hitches in excitement, wind starting to blow into your faces. you glance at trent, who’s sporting a less excited expression, so you shout in excitement when the cart drops and goes up multiple times. hoping your happiness will be infectious and cheer him up.

it works! the couple of looks you sneak, tell you he was pretty satisfied, cheering and shouting along with you.

you take a deep breath when the cart stops. the both of you slightly dizzy when you step out.

“you liked that one?” you ask, fixing your jacket as you both start walking away, walking past other attractions.

“i did! i was nervous for a moment, won’t lie..” he replies, scouser accent thick and laced with excitement.

“good, I’m glad you liked it- oh look!” you suddenly exclaim. pointing to the haunted house, fake skeletons, and more ‘scary’ props used to decorate the entrance.

“you want to go inside?” trent asks, raising a brow at you. he wasn’t aware that you were such an adrenaline junkie, or were you?

“yes, let’s go!” you urge, paying the entrance fee, and stepping inside. the bunny plushie now pressed into your side as you both start walking into the dark maze.

“i can’t see anything..” you murmur, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. your arm grazes trent’s, which in turn makes your breath hitch. your temperature rises, despite the coldness of the room you’re in.

“me neither..” you hear trent mutter, he glances at you in the dark. your arms touching each other every now and then. the numerous fake spiderwebs and bone-chilling moving skulls making you freeze up often.

entering another room, you’re immediately greeted by a zombie. the special effects props and makeup, too good not to jump and scream.

“shit!” you exclaim, back pressing against trent’s chest when you take a step back.

“what the fuck!” you hear the scouser shout against your ear. it hurts for a moment, but you’re too focused on the zombie trying to get close to you to care about it.

you feel strong hands grab at your jacket. instinctively you know it’s trent, so you keep scuffling forward. trying your best to ignore the groaning and gurgling sounds coming from the too-talented actor.

walking through the empty hall, you look at him, his grip on your jacket loosening.

“you’re such a coward..” you accuse, laughing when remembering how he shouted in fear.

“you’re the one who yelled first..” he retorts, and you can make out a smirk on his face.

“here, take my hand.” he offers, holding his hand out. which you can only see because of the green lights strung along the dusty hallway.

your heart skips a beat or two, stopping you in your tracks. you feel your face heat up, and you’re glad he can’t fully make out your dumbfounded expression in the dark. you quickly shove away that lovesick feeling, trying to compose yourself.

“that’s a really weird way to propose, but okay..” you tease, your fingers intertwining with trent’s. knowing you’d probably made him more dazzled than he made you flustered.

“wait, no- i meant-" he stutters, mind going totally foggy as he forgets how to form a proper sentence in his state. you hold back a smile, knowing his brain was probably running kilometers an hour.

“wait, did you say you’d marry me?” he suddenly questions, face contouring into confusion and a dumbstruck expression.

“uh, no?” you feign your upmost innocence, thumb grazing his knuckles. a sweet, comforting touch, but it only makes the short circuit in his brain worse.

you smirk to yourself, carefully dragging him along. mindful of his injury as your hearts beat in unison, like electric sparks flying off the pads of your fingers.

the hold on each other’s hands only gets tighter, until the last jumpscare. this time, your entire front is pressed against his back, it scaring you a bit too much. you thought the cackling clown was the end of the attraction.

you catch your breath when you finally step outside, trent’s hand on your back. soothing rubs helping you calm down faster.

“why- why would they think using a knife prop was a good idea?” you pant, questioning if the ten-pound entrance fee was worth it.

trent squeezes into your hand, reassuring you with his touch. “you’re good, it’s all fake- remember?” he rationalizes your thoughts, slowly pulling you away to the food trucks.

he sits you down on a small wooden bench and table, eyes roaming on your face to check up on you.

“are you alright?” he asks, face inching closer to yours. his breath hitting your lips.

“I’m fine, really..” you reassure, squeezing into the plushy for comfort.

“let’s have something to eat, then we’ll get on the ferris wheel. is that okay?” he asks, voice patient and sweet. the kindness in his expression and words cheers you up a bit. so, you smile, nodding in agreement.

“i’ve heard that they have really nice tacos. want to try?” he suggests, glancing up at the food truck in question.

“sure, let’s try them.” you answer, he nods walking away to order and collect your food. he comes back fairly quickly, placing the delicious and warm tacos on the table. not to forget, the extra cups of guacamole, lime and sour cream.

“eat up before they get cold..” he says, the both of you digging into your food and drink of choice. a comfortable silence ensues, with soft hums and small comments made in delight.

“i love fair food..” you hum, taking the last few sips of your drink. trent nods in agreement, leaning over to wipe some of the sour cream off your lip.

you pause your movements at the action, eyes darting to his brown ones. his touch is delicate and careful, and he folds the napkin after pulling away.

“there, all clean..” he mutters, cleaning the table off and coming back from the recycling bin.

“do you want to go on the ferris wheel now? it’s getting dark, and the view will be nice..” he asks, unconsciously holding his hand out for you to hold.

you nod excitedly, clutching onto his warm hand as you both make your way to the ferris wheel. your bodies touching as you lean them against each other, waiting in line for the last attraction of the night.

it’s imminent that a sweet first kiss will be shared, right? a flicker to the next chapter of your life. the city lights witnessing a love blooming like a patch of yellow daffodils in spring.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander x you #trent x reader #liverpoolfc #football fanfic #football imagines #football #footballer x reader #liverpool fanfic #liverpoolimagines #taa #alexander arnold #football blurb #football imagine

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1: Got the News Today, Doctor Said I Had to Stay

Collaboration with the fabulous @corroded-hellfire

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: When you're stuck in the hospital after the Hawkins "earthquake," you're surprised to find comfort in your new roommate, Eddie Munson. But when you find out that your injuries may compromise your dreams, the cheery façade threatens to come crashing down.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, controlled use of pain medication

WC: 3.9k

A/N: There will be six chapters to this series, one for each Jonas Brothers album. Try to spot the Easter eggs we've planted throughout!

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“I said, get this murderer out of my room!” A shrill voice from across the hall startles you from your sleep. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 7:05, but you can’t be sure if it’s morning or evening. The bright lights of Hawkins General Hospital have your internal clock all jumbled, and the constant barrage of nurses checking on you certainly doesn’t help.

“He should be locked up in prison or rotting on death row, not using precious resources that could be used on law-abiding citizens!” the shrieking woman continues, and you grimace as your head throbs. It seems like the pain never ceases; it only travels around your body. You’ve been here for two days, and you have more questions than answers.

There’s quiet for a few moments before the door to your room swings open and a second bed is being wheeled in, more IV lines hooked up to the poor patient than you’ve got going on. A nurse pulls the curtain separating the two sides of the room before you can get a look at whoever is lying in the bed.

“Well, that was a record,” a male voice says from the other side of the curtain. “How long before that one freaked out? Six minutes?”

No one answers the man, but you can hear nurses and orderlies setting up any equipment the patient would need.

“Don’t blame them,” a woman eventually mumbles, moving a machine over. “Kid killed a cheerleader and then fled the scene. I wouldn’t wanna bunk with him, either.”

A new pair of footsteps joins the crowded room, but this time it’s just your nurse, Mandy, coming in to check on you. She’s a pretty blonde woman, and though she’s usually smiling, her lips are puckered into a pout.

“I know this is far from ideal,” she says softly, checking your vitals and marking notes on her chart, “but we’ll have people in here making sure nothing happens, okay?”

“I think she’s pretty harmless, just loud,” you lightly joke, assuming that Mandy’s referring to the banshee across the hall. “Worst thing she’ll do is trigger a migraine.”

She shakes her head. “No, hon. I’m talking about your, uh, new roommate. Edward Munson.”

Well, that explains the whole murderer outburst. Still, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Eddie? I went to school with him. Guy couldn’t even be bothered to turn in his part of a group project; I highly doubt he could pull off a murder.” You’d think he would have had something done, considering it was his second time taking O’Donnell’s senior English class, but he’d shown up empty-handed, leaving his poor partner scrambling at the last minute.

Mandy nods, looking a little relieved herself. Maybe the thought of her having to be his nurse had been eating at her.

“Is he awake?” you ask. You can only assume he’s not, because the Eddie Munson you remembered would never have been quiet for this long.

“Sleeping,” Mandy says. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Um.” You wrinkle up your nose as you think, a sharp pain taking that moment to shoot down your leg. “When can I get some more pain medication? And food?”

Going through the papers in your chart, Mandy’s eyes scan lines of writing until she comes to the answer she needs. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes until I can give you your next dose. Luckily, dinner should be here quicker than that.”

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, sinking back against your pillows.

After another round of pain meds, you’re able to drift off into a light sleep. You don’t have dreams on the medication; you’re simply floating in a haze of pinks and purples. Perhaps the dreamlessness is a good thing, considering the memories buried deep inside your unconscious mind. Your roommate is not so fortunate.

“No! Stop!” Eddie whimpers from the bed next to you, startling you from your sleep. You can see through the translucent curtain that he’s trying to thrash, but his injuries limit his movements. “Henderson, help me! Get me out of here!”

“Hey,” you whisper, but when he cries out again, you raise your voice slightly. “Eddie, wake up!”

“I won’t run away, didn’t run away, gotta save Chrissy,” he mumbles, still trapped in his nightmare. “Don’t let me die. Don’t wan’ die.” The urgency in his tone falters, and you realize that he’s crying.

“Eddie, you’re alive!” you call out to him, wishing you had the strength to walk to him and shake him awake. “You survived the earthquake, okay? But you gotta wake up!”

You watch as he jolts up involuntarily, groaning loudly as pain blooms throughout his torso. “Fuck,” he moans, clutching his ribs with one arm. “Wha—where am I? Oh, shit.” He lays back down as the realization sets in. He tries to choke back a sob, inadvertently sending himself into a coughing fit.

“Here,” you call out to him, grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table. “Can you open the curtain and reach?”

Eddie’s able to yank back the cloth fabric, but neither of you can move close enough for him to grasp onto the cup. The two of you are confined to hospital beds, arms outstretched pathetically just to pass a glass of water. The scene is so absurd that you have to laugh.

“You think—cough—this is—cough—funny?” Eddie asks, but his grin indicates that he also finds it amusing. “I survived the Up—earthquake, and—cough—now I’m gonna die from—cough—lack of water?”

“‘M sorry,” you manage between peals of laughter. “I’m just imagining how ridiculous we’d look to someone passing by.”

Eddie uses his last bit of strength to lunge, finally securing the cup and guzzling down the water. “Thanks, um…” He cranes his neck to see your name written on the whiteboard above your bed. “Oh, shit! Did we go to high school together?”

You nod. “We did. I graduated last year. We had Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class together.”

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favorite teacher. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, not ugh that we had a class together; ugh at O’Donnell,” he blabbers. “And an extra ugh for me having to take that class again this year.”

“I thought a certain metalhead was missing from graduation,” you tease.

“Aw, you noticed?” Eddie’s smirk makes you laugh, the pain meds probably adding to your bubbly mood.

“Well, no one caused a commotion or flipped off old man Higgins, so yeah,” you say. “And there was a distinct lack of Black Sabbath blaring through the parking lot.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Gotta stay inspired, y’know? I don’t want to be one of those musicians who has someone write their shit for them. It makes it less real, or whatever.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You write all of Corroded Coffin’s music?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie nods. “Well, me and the rest of the guys—wait,” he pauses, eyes narrowing with suspicion, “you know the name of my band?”

“Mhm,” you pick at the itchy wool blanket draped over your legs. “You played at the middle school talent show. I was in seventh grade, so you must’ve been in eighth.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit; he just studies your face until a huge grin forms from cheek to cheek. “You’re the dancer!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You did that routine with the, um, the fancy shoes…”

“Pointe shoes,” you giggle. “Yeah, people weren’t too impressed. Apparently a twelve-year-old flailing on stage to Swan Lake was not the hit I’d thought it’s be.”

“Flailing?” Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, you were amazing. Don’t tell my friends, but I, uh, secretly wanted you to win.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you.” He matches your surprised tone, making you laugh again. “I thought it was totally badass, getting up there and doing ballet when all the other girls were jumping around to Blondie.”

“Don’t knock Debbie Harry,” you warn him teasingly, poking your forefinger in his direction. “She is an icon, and you will show her some respect.”

Eddie brings a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies, to both you and Ms. Harry.” He flashes another sweet smile that could melt an iceberg. “But I really did want you to win. I’ve always rooted for the underdog.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” And you do. It’s nice to know that someone besides your parents believed in you.

“You, uh, you still dance?” Eddie asks abruptly.

“Yup,” you tell him, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s actually what I go to school for.”

“Good,” Eddie muses, averting his gaze from your side of the room. “You were too talented to give that up.”

You’re about to respond when there’s a knock on the door and you see an orderly walk in with a food tray. You drop your head back on your pillow, humming your happiness. The orderly sets your table within your reach before placing your tray on it. Before the man can even step out the door to grab Eddie’s food, you’re inhaling the soup you’ve been given. You’re distantly aware as Eddie gets his food, but you’re busy trying to figure out what type of soup it is. Is that potato in it?

A groan from the other side of the curtain has you looking in Eddie’s direction as you swallow a mouthful of soup.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, clearly lying.

“If we’re going to be roommates, we’re going to have to learn to be honest with one another.”

He huffs a laugh as he clangs his silverware together. “S’just that it’s gonna sound ridiculously stupid after what everyone has been through.”

“Humor me,” you say before ladling another spoonful of soup in your mouth.

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I got green Jell-O. I hate that shit.”

Your eyes lock on your own Jell-O, bright red where it sits next to your piece of bread and cup of water. “How do you feel about red?”

“Much better,” Eddie says, tearing off a piece of his own bread and shoving it into his mouth.

“Wanna trade?” you offer.

“Y’don’t have to do that,” he says through his full mouth.

“Nah, come on,” you say. “Besides, green’s my favorite color.”

Eddie looks over at you, a skeptical look on his face as he chews. But you pick up your sealed cup of Jell-O and toss it over to him. Smiling, he throws the green in return, which you manage to catch.

“Thanks,” he says. You hum in acknowledgment as you tear off the foil lid.

There’s a beat of silence as you both eat what Hawkins General considers dessert. “I don’t know how you like the green one,” Eddie pipes up.

You shrug. “Jell-O is Jell-O,” you say nonchalantly, taking a big spoonful to emphasize your point.

“Nuh uh,” Eddie shakes his head, wincing at the twinge of pain it causes. “Cherry is the superior flavor, and everyone knows it.” He slurps it obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes.

“Geez, how does Chrissy put up with you?” Your tone is light and joking, so you’re taken aback by the darkness that takes over his face. “What?”

“How do you know about Chrissy?” he asks, voice barely audible.

Your face heats up; you’d forgotten that he didn’t know you’d heard him talking in his sleep. “Um, you said something about saving her when you were having that nightmare,” you admit, softening when you realize how vulnerable he is. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she isn’t—wasn’t,” he amends. “She was the girl who died in my trailer. But I…I didn’t kill her, I swear.” Eddie looks over at you with misty eyes. “I can’t tell you what happened, but you have to believe me.”

You hold his gaze. “I believe you,” you murmur, quiet but assured.

The two of you go back to your food, plastic utensils scraping styrofoam bowls, until Eddie speaks up again. “You…you said I talked about Chrissy in my sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did I say?” He looks ambivalent, like he’s unsure if he wants to know what his subconscious mind churned up.

You think back for a moment. “You asked someone for help, and then you said you didn’t want to, um…you didn’t want to die.” Your eyes flit over to his side of the room, but he’s practically boring a hole in his Jell-O cup with how intently he’s staring at it.

“Did you tell me to wake up? That I survived?” He finally allows himself to make eye contact with you, a trace of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Yeah—I can never remember if you’re supposed to let the nightmare end naturally, but you seemed really upset.” You gnaw on your lower lip anxiously.

Eddie rests his head on the pillow. “God, this is gonna sound corny as hell,” he starts, chuckling to himself, “but when you did that, it was like…I saw brightness, y’know? Not like, Eddie, come into the light,” he drops his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers, making you giggle, “but like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Does that make sense?”

You nod, watching him exhale in relief.

“Guess you’re my sunshine then, huh?” He gives you a shy smile that you easily return, trying to push down the spark of electricity that seems to flow between you.

“Hey, how about this?” Eddie asks as he lands on a channel. Your eyes feel like they’re going to roll back in your head when you see a NASCAR race on tiny television.

“Absolutely not,” you answer.

“Aw, come on,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s an American pastime.”

“It’s one big left turn, is what it is,” you shout. “Toss me the remote?” Eddie chuckles and goes to throw it your way before you wince and add, “Watch the leg!”

He’s careful to avoid the area as he sends it your way, but his eyes drift down the blanket at the mention of your limb. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to vacation here,” you reply, maintaining a deadpan expression.

“I hear the eleventh floor is just wonderful this time of year,” Eddie throws back, feigning a posh British accent. Terribly, you might add. “How bad is it?” he presses, motioning towards your leg.

“Dunno yet,” you answer honestly. “They took some x-rays and did a bunch of scans; now I’m just waiting for the doctor. They’re probably just overwhelmed.”

Eddie nods. “Nothing like a good, old-fashioned earthquake to shake things up.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to react to his pun. Nothing. “Oh, c’mon! That was a good one!”

“You’re a comedic genius, Eddie Munson,” you joke, and he flips you off, nearly snagging the IV tube pinching his skin. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll probably be in a cast for six weeks, maybe have to do some physical therapy. This isn’t my first broken bone.”

“How do you do that?” Eddie muses.

“Do what?”

“Be so…positive,” he explains sheepishly. “I mean, you could be all bitter or anxious, but you’re calm, cool, and collected.” He fiddles with his fingers, frowning as though something is missing. “You really are a ray of sunshine, huh?”

“That’s me.” Truthfully, you’re worried that this could be more than just a run-of-the-mill break, but you don’t let that fear seep through. Instead, you aim the remote at the tiny TV in the corner of the room, settling on a soap opera rerun. It’s not what you’d usually watch, but you’re determined to get your revenge for his NASCAR escapades earlier.

To your chagrin, Eddie’s enthralled with the on-screen drama. “Oh, shit!” He rubs his hands together. “Is this the one where Shelby sleeps with Theo and his identical twin brother, Mark?” He chuckles at the bemused look on your face. “I got hooked on this show when I was home with the flu last year,” he confesses, though he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed.

“Eddie Munson, secret soap opera aficionado?” You waggle your eyebrows. “Scandalous. What will your fans think?”

“I am what I am, Sunshine.” He sits up a little straighter as a woman with big hair and even bigger breasts shoves ultrasound photos at an impossibly handsome man. “No fuckin’ way!” Eddie gasps. “She’s knocked up!”

“How did you not see that coming? It’s like the oldest trick in the book!” you ask incredulously. “Now she has to figure out which brother is the dad.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes widen in shock. “But they’re identical! How’s she gonna do that?”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out!” you chirp, giggling as he lets out an impatient sigh.

“Mr. Munson?” a nurse calls from the doorway, pushing an empty wheelchair. “We’re ready to run your tests. Just have to transfer you to the chair.” She pats the back of it, trying to keep some level of professionalism, but you can tell that she’s nervous being around an alleged murderer. She holds out her hand to help Eddie out of bed, and he shoots you a tight grin.

“I’m goin’ commando under here, Sunshine,” he warns you. “Look away. This show ain’t free.”

You cover your eyes dramatically as he plops into the chair, grunting and groaning the whole way down. “Is it safe?”

“You’re good,” Eddie reassures you as the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. “Hey, let me know who the father is when I get back. My money’s on Theo.”

You narrow your eyes. “How much money?”

“Hmm,” Eddie taps his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought. “It won’t be as much as usual, since I already bought a beach house and a Jaguar this year…$3,000 sound good?”

You give him a little salute, turning your attention back to the show. Settling in against the pillows, you get immersed in the show yourself, rooting for some characters, and wanting some to get stabbed in the backs like they deserve. Just as it comes back to Shelby’s storyline, your doctor walks in, a tight smile on his lips.

“What’s the news, Dr. Sanoj?”

“Well,” he says, looking down at the chart in his hands. “Like we suspected, it’s your femur. It was crushed pretty badly. It’s going to need a few pins in it, which will require some surgery.”

Letting a deep sigh fall from your lips, you nod your head. “Okay. Was kind of expecting that.”

“Now, we won’t know for sure until we get in there and take a look at things, but there’s a chance you’ll need a mobility aid to help you get around.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows pinching in confusion. “Like crutches?”

“Crutches are one type of aid, yes. But they range in variety. It’s things like wheelchairs, walkers, canes. But this will be a better discussion for once we see how the surgery turns out,” Dr. Sanoj says.

“Would I need to use one forever?” The sympathetic look that softens your doctor’s face lets you know he heard the trepidation in your voice. “Will I be able to dance again?”

“Like I said,” Dr. Sanoj says, “this discussion is best for once the surgery is done.”

You nod your head, knowing you probably won’t be able to get any further information on the subject out of him. “When will I have the surgery?”

“Scheduling is going to work that out and they should let you know by the end of the day. You can expect to be here the days following the surgery, but you shouldn’t be cooped up in these hospital walls for too much longer. You’ll get there, you’ll see. One day at a time.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

A funk has taken over you once Dr. Sanoj leaves the room. A mobility aid? Could you dance with one of those? Surgery and recovery you planned on, but the goal was always to get you back in the dance studio, and needing a device to help you simply get around was not what you had been expecting.

Allowing yourself to stew in your own self pity for a few moments, you realize you’ve missed the big reveal on which brother is the father of Shelby’s baby. You’ll have to tell Eddie that. Explain the doctor came in and you were talking to him. But, you think to yourself, Eddie doesn’t need to know just what rough shape your leg is in. He calls you his sunshine, doesn’t he? That would just bring some gray clouds that he did not need in his life. He’s got a lot going on and is going to need to keep his spirits up. That’ll be easier for you to do if you pretend like everything is rainbows and lollipops.

The door opens and Eddie is wheeled back inside, groaning in pain as he holds a hand over his ribs.

“Right here with the pain medicine,” Nurse Mandy says, stepping in behind him.

“Oh, please be mine,” Eddie says, watching the bundle in Mandy’s hands like a hawk. “Sorry roomie, I think I need it more than you do right now.”

“S’all yours,” you tell him.

Mandy sets a bag of IV fluid up as the transporter helps Eddie get back in bed. His face is pale, and you’ve learned that comes when agonizing pain is ripping through you.

“Okay, Mr. Munson. Should start hitting you at any minute now,” Mandy says.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, letting his eyes drift closed. He stays that way after both the nurse and the transporter leave the room. You think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again. “So, which brother was it?”

“Ah, sorry, Eddie,” you say. “Doc came in and I was talking with him, so I think I missed it.”

“Good news?” Eddie’s opened his eyes and turns his head to look at you, genuine concern written across his face.

For a moment, you contemplate spilling everything: the surgery, the mobility aid, the possibility of never dancing again. But you shove it deep down, determined to keep your cheery disposition that he so desperately needs. “Y-Yeah, everything’s looking ship-shape.” Ship-shape? You’re a terrible liar, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Thas’ good shit.” From the dreamy quality his voice is taking in, you can tell the pain meds are starting to take effect.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore as hell from how they had to maneuver me for x-rays. But I feel the medicine kicking in.” A smile comes to his face and you can tell the giddiness of the high is hitting him. “Time for me to fly.”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the television. A game show is on now, so you snuggle in to play along. The contestant is getting an obvious puzzle wrong and it makes you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to Eddie about it, but then his soft snores reach your ears. Turning your head to look at him, you notice how peaceful he looks. All you can do is pray he stays that way and isn’t plagued by any other nightmares.

Sunshine, he calls you. It’s the nicest nickname you’ve ever been given. You’re hoping you can keep that bright and optimistic attitude up enough to help him out when the clouds come rolling in. It’s not a one-way street, though. Eddie is going to be your light, your breath of fresh air, your optimism. You just don’t know it yet.

#albl #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

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Chapter 8: My Favorite Cowboy

Summary: After finding out things aren't going as planned with Javi's project on the ranch, you come over to help. You spend the day meeting Javi's dad, learning about the Peña ranch, and Javi surprising you with a night that you won't ever forget.

Word Count: 12.2K (I'm not sorry about it!!!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but it's the most romantic smut I've ever written UGH), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/loss of a parent, Chucho Peña not letting his son have a moment of peace, Javi being a hot handsome cowboy, FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF Javi is a lovesick FOOL for you

A/N: Just when I thought I couldn't cram anymore in to this chapter, here we are. I wasn't planning on it ending the way it did but I literally just couldn't help myself because these two are so obsessed with each other that I'm not even mad about it. That's all I will say!!! As always, thank you so much for everyone who reads/commments/reblogs/is invested in this story, you all mean so much to me and appreciate all your kind words!!

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As you hung up the phone with Javi, the reality of your conversation hit you like a ton of bricks. Not only had you just volunteered yourself to go over to Javi’s ranch for the first time, you had also signed up to meet his dad, bring them food, and help with their project? Today was turning out to be a much bigger day than anticipated. Of course you had wanted to see the Peña ranch and meet Javi’s father. Those were two things you knew were both incredibly important to him. That’s why it made you so nervous. You liked Javi. You more than liked him. You wanted more than anything to make a good impression when you met his family, and now that impression depended on a sandwich and your ability to build a fence.

Thankful you went to the grocery store yesterday, you stared at your fridge before collecting some lunch meat, cheese, and toppings. Unsure of what sandwiches the Peña men would want, you packed a cooler full of 10 different types, each labeled and wrapped in tinfoil, hoping there would be enough variety that they could find at least one they liked. You also threw in the rest of your chocolate chip cookies from last night, along with a bag of potato chips, a few cans of Coke and some bottles of beer. Staring at the cooler, you began to panic, fearing Javi’s dad was going to think you were a crazy person for showing up with so much food, but the thought of him thinking that you didn’t show up with enough was even more terrifying. Realizing that you had spent way longer than expected trying to perfect lunch, you quickly rushed to your room to try and pick out something to wear. Shuffling through your closet, you sighed to yourself, absolutely unsure of what to pick out. What the hell says I’ve missed my hot, sexy boyfriend, I’m excited to meet your dad for the first time, and I’m here to help you build a fence? Nothing. The answer is nothing. Knowing you were tight on time, you just had to go with the first outfit you pulled- denim shorts and a striped short sleeved t-shirt, throwing your hair half up in a clip, hoping to at least look semi-cute before you were a sweaty mess from the hot, Texan heat. Throwing on a little bit of makeup and a healthy dose of deodorant, you grabbed your purse, cooler, and Javi’s directions before heading out the door.

You couldn’t have been more grateful that your AC was deciding to cooperate in your car today, 1- Because your nerves already had you sweating enough, and 2- the fear of losing Javi’s directions out the open window of your car would have sent you over the edge. You drove the first half of your journey in silence, your free leg bouncing rapidly as you triple checked each turn on the directions. You tried to tell yourself there was nothing to worry about. You were a likable person, right? You pleaded with your brain to cut it out with the “what-if” scenarios, but you couldn’t help yourself.

What if his dad is annoyed you’re coming over? What if he’s mad about how much time Javi has been spending with you? What if he thinks that your sandwiches are the worst that he’s ever had in his life? What if he just doesn’t like you? Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

Your knuckles clenched the steering wheel, as you tried to think of something to snap you out of your stress. Pulling down your overhead visor, you plucked through the CD’s you had stashed up there, grabbing your favorite hype music you and your brothers played before every hockey game. Skipping through the first few tracks, you cranked up the volume as a loud “OI, OI, OI” blasted through the speakers. You weren’t really sure that T.N.T. by AC/DC was an appropriate song to settle your nerves before meeting your boyfriend’s dad for the first time, but by the end of the song, you felt a little more relieved. With only a few more turns left in your trip, you lowered your music and took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself as you found yourself on your last step of directions, making your way down a long, dirt road. Along both sides, the road was lined with bright green fields of farmland, the long grass gently swaying from the breeze. You passed a few ranches spread few and far between each other, turning your head as you drove by to make sure none of them were your destination. As you approached the 5th house on the right, according to Javi’s directions, you breathed a sigh of relief as you turned into the driveway, greeted by a weathered sign reading “Peña Ranch.”

The nervous feeling in your gut began to build again, palms sweaty as you pushed against the steering wheel, parking behind Javi’s truck like he had asked on the phone. As you turned off the ignition, you sat in your car for a few moments, working up your courage before exiting, grabbing your cooler and heading down the remainder of the gravel driveway to the front door. Looking around, you were amazed by the beautiful acres of farmland that surrounded the quaint ranch in front of you. Bushes of beautiful flowers lined the front of the house, colorful roses and hydrangeas creeping just below the big windows glistening in the sunshine. As you stepped on to the porch, you noticed two rocking chairs set side by side, slowly moving back and forth from the wind. You took one last deep breath as your free hand tightened to a fist, getting ready to tap on the front door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Nothing.

Knock, knock, knock. This time a little louder, more force behind your rapping knuckles.

Still silent.

“Hello?” you raised your voice slightly.

No response.

You stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. You weren’t just going to stand there like an idiot until someone came to answer, and you weren’t going to wander the property with a cooler full of sandwiches looking for Javi and his dad. You figured your next best bet was to try the door, hoping that maybe someone was inside and just hadn’t heard you. Hesitantly twisting the doorknob, you quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door behind you.

Peeking through the doorway, you were greeted by the warm interior of the Peña home. The walls were painted in a soft, creamy beige, covered by pictures and portraits of who you assumed to be friends and family. The first picture in the entryway was of a beautiful woman who looked like she was laughing and dancing. She had long, dark curls and a vibrant smile, her laugh lines stretched across her cheeks. It couldn’t have been anyone besides Javi’s mother, their faces were practically identical. As you stepped further into the house through the living room, you found a picture of a baby in nothing but giant cowboy boots, hat, and diaper. You giggled to yourself, knowing that it had to be a little baby Javi, drowning in whoever had put him in full cowboy attire.

“He was a cute baby, wasn’t he?”

The voice behind you had scared you so badly, you practically jumped through the roof.

“Oh, mija, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Chucho chuckled as you caught your breath.

“Mr. Peña, I’m so sorry, I tried to knock and no one answered and I didn’t want to wander around and go anywhere I shouldn’t and I-” You fumbled over your words, flustered and embarrassed that the first time Javi’s dad ever saw you was staring at a picture of your boyfriend in a diaper.

“Mija, sweetheart, please, call me Chucho. Señor Peña es mí papa. (Mr. Peña is my father.). You don’t need to apologize, that’s why the pictures are there, to be enjoyed. That one has always been one of my favorites.” He pointed back to Javi’s baby picture, you both laughing to yourselves.

“He was a very cute baby.” You set down your things, outstretching your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chucho, I’m-“

Before you could finish, Chucho had already wrapped you in his arms, embracing you in a tight hug. He held you there for a few seconds, smiles both stretching across your faces. “I know who you are, mija. I am so glad to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you.” He leaned back from your hug, still holding the sides of your arms as his eyes glistened. “It has been so long since I have seen my Javier so happy. He absolutely lov-”

“Pops! Give her some space, okay?” Javi’s familiar voice carried down the hallway behind you, cutting off the rest of his father’s sentence you were now very curious to hear the rest of. It didn’t take you long to become distracted by your thought, as Javi’s broad body strolled down the hallway, his gray t-shirt shirt clinging to his biceps, his sweat making his dark curls stick to his forehead. Even when he was a sweaty mess, he still looked delicious.

“Relájate, hijo. Quería saludarme a mí futura nuera.” (Relax son. I just wanted to say hello to my future daughter in law.) Chucho’s smirk couldn’t have been any bigger, and Javi’s cheeks couldn’t have been any redder.

“Pops, please stop.” Javi grumbled, obviously embarrassed.

“What’d you say? Sorry, I’ve been trying to work on my Spanish since moving here.” You tried to politely interject, very curious as to what was making Javi so flustered.

“Nothing, mija. Javier can tell you another time.” Chucho grinned, winking at his son as he rolled his eyes before burying his head in his hand.

“Alright.” You smiled at Javi, his face still flushed. “Well, I have lots of food if you’re hungry! I brought sandwiches, if that’s okay.” You held up your cooler, gesturing to its contents.

“Okay? More than okay, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m sure it is better than any lunch this old man could have thrown together. Javi, grab the cooler and some drinks, let’s head outside.”

“Mr. Peñ-“ You paused, correcting yourself as Chucho grinned at you. “Chucho. Really, I don’t mind carrying it, it’s not that heavy. And there’s some Coke and beer in there already if you want some!”

“Ella trajo cerveza? Ella te quiere mucho, Javier. La amo, tambien.” (And she brought beer? She really does love you, Javier. I love her too.)

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered under his breath. “Dad, please.” His voice a mix of firm and desperate.

“Fine, fine.” He replied, swatting his hand at his son. “Gracias, mija. That was very kind of you.”

“Of course.” You smiled as the three of you began walking through the kitchen and out to the back deck where a small picnic table sat in the shade of the overhang of the roof. The view from the back deck was breathtaking- miles of green pasture stretched across land, separated by a few lines of fencing housing sheep and cows to the right, and some horses to the left. “It’s absolutely beautiful here. Javi never told me how amazing it is.” You gave him a playful nudge as you sat down next to him, putting the cooler on the table and staring out in front of you.

“Yeah, I don’t know, different when you see it every day, I guess.” Javi shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are you kidding? After living in a city for so long, I don’t think I’d ever get over waking up to this every morning. Beats ugly gray buildings and taxis any day of the week.” You turned around to see Javi quickly dart his eyes away, trying to play off the fact he hadn’t just been gawking at you for the past few seconds.

“Thank you. I do love it here. Javier tells me you're from Chicago. Laredo must have been a big change for you, mija.”

“I guess. I lived in the suburbs growing up so I wasn’t in the city my whole life. I actually had been to Laredo before I moved here, which is part of the reason why I picked it. My best friend came here in high school for her dad’s job and I would visit every summer. I always loved how peaceful it was. Don’t get me wrong, I love Chicago, but I absolutely love it here too.” You softly smirked at Javi, as his hand reached down to grasp your leg, rubbing his thumb along your knee under the table. “Please, have something to eat! I made a lot because I didn’t know what sandwiches you like, so hopefully there’s something in there you want.”

Javi stood up to open the cooler and take out its contents, laughing and shaking his head as he saw what was inside. “Jesus Hermosa, were you planning on feeding an army today?” He started removing sandwich after sandwich, along with the rest of the cookies and chips.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know what people liked and-” You muttered, embarrassed by your excessive overpacking.

“She is just like your mamá, Javier. Nunca puede tener demasiada comida. You can never have too much food, she would always say. Thank you, mija. It all looks wonderful.”

You let out a small smile, relieved by his comment. “It’s the least I can do. I heard your project isn’t exactly going as planned so I wanted to do something small to help out.”

“It’s been a shit show. Better now that you’re here.” Javi smirked. “Can you pass me the turkey sandwich? And a cookie? Wait, did you make these?” Pointing over to the ziploc bag the cookies were stored in.

“Yeah, I made them yesterday. Had a feeling they were better here than sitting uneaten at my apartment.” You passed both items of food off to him.

No surprise to you, Javi went straight for the cookie, taking a giant bite, not bothering to finish chewing before he spoke. “These are so fucking good.”

“Javier, language! And chew with your mouth closed. You may have been raised on a ranch, but you weren’t born in a barn.” Chuchco scolded as you giggled.

“Sorry.” He grumbled sheepishly. “They’re delicious, Osita. So is the sandwich.” he spoke before taking another mouthful.

“Thanks, I had a feeling you’d like ‘em. So what can I help with after lunch is done?

“Osita, I already told you, you don’t need to help with anything.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a stern look. “You’re trying to tell me there’s not a single thing that I can help with? Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Well, I mean…” Chucho perked up, mid-bite on a handful of chips.

“Dad. Seriously?”

“What? She’s offering!”

“I am, thank you, Chucho. See, listen to your dad, Javi.” You shrugged and raised an eyebrow at him defiantly.

“Yes, Javier, listen to your father.” Chucho joined you in crossing his arms at his son, you and Chucho both laughing as Javi sighed. “Although I will agree with Javier on this one, mija. I have no doubt you are strong and willing to help, but I can’t ask you to help build this fence. Even with 6 grown men, this fence would have been hard to build. Although…”

“Pops, c’mon.”

“I wasn’t going to ask her to help with the fence, Javier.” He swatted his hand at his son in annoyance. Chucho turned back to look at you. “Mija, have you gardened before?” This got Javi’s attention. He sat up a little straighter and leaned in to what his dad had to say.

“Yes, actually! My mom had a garden of all kinds of things at our house when I was a kid. My brothers never wanted to take care of it because it was too girly, but I loved it.”

Chucho let a soft smile creep across his face. “Perfect. Mija, the flowers around the house could use a little love. Watering, weeding, trimming down. I know it does not seem like a big job but it has been on my to-do list and I just haven’t gotten to it yet. Too much longer and it will be a jungle and too much for my old knees to handle on my own. Would you mind helping with that?”

“Of course, I would love to!” You grinned, semi-relieved you weren’t going to have to embarrass yourself in front of Javi trying to pick up a post just to prove a point.

“Bueno! These sandwiches were delicious, mija. Thank you, again. Let me show you where the tools are and then we will all be back to work.”

You and Javi followed Chucho hand in hand to the small tool shed on the outside of the barn. He grabbed a bucket, placing a few items inside before handing it off to Javi, even though you insisted you could carry it. Chucho showed you his preferred method of clipping and trimming around the flowers, along with his favorite weeding shovel and where the hose was to water when you were done. The whole time you and Chucho were talking, Javi watched in silence, his heart bursting at the sight of you two milling around the garden. As Chucho finished with his directions, you turned back around to see Javi, wiping away what you assumed was just sweat from under his eyes.

“I think I got it all! Thanks, Chucho!”

“Of course, honey. We are out in the far left pasture, so if you need anything, you can call Javi’s phone from the future on our perfectly good phone in the house.”

“You have it out for cell phones, too? Must be a dad thing, mine is the same way. I’ll call if I need anything.” Chucho nodded as he began making his way back to the pasture, Javi lingering behind for a few more moments. “I never did get to properly say hello to you.” You smirked, pulling your fingers beneath the belt loops on Javi’s jeans, bringing him closer to you as you both leaned in for a long, sweet kiss.

“I think this hello works just fine.” Javi chuckled, his large hand cupping your face, calloused thumb rubbing back and forth against your cheek. “Thank you, Osita. This means so much to me. Meeting my dad, bringing food, offering to help. I just- Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m so glad I got to finally meet your dad. He’s hilarious. I think he was just worried that I was gonna be too strong helping with the fence and he didn’t want to embarrass you like that.”

“Pendejo.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

I do. It was soft and tender and sweet and somehow screamed in your ear at the same time. It made your heart race and your cheeks flushed as he pulled the hand already resting on your jaw closer to his, the kiss between you so gentle, yet powerful all at once. It felt like your lips were barely touching, yet somehow it still felt like they were crashing together, like a wave on the beach in a stormy sea. You pulled away from each other, slow and breathless, eyes locking and mouths still hanging half open. A kiss that left you both dumbfounded and speechless.

“I uh, I should um, probably go help my dad.”

“Yeah, I um, yeah, I should probably get to work on these flowers.”

Both of your voices barely carried above a whisper. You slowly backed away from each other, stupid smiles spread across your cheeks as you bit down on your bottom lip to try and keep your grin from growing any wider.

“If you need anything just-“ He gestured down to his pocket where was carrying his phone.

“Just call your cell phone, I know.”

As Javi’s body turned to walk towards his dad, his eyes stayed glued on you. So much so, that neither of you noticed the garden bucket he was about to trip over before it was too late. With one wrong step, Javi lost his footing and took several tumbling steps before planting his hands on the ground and pushing himself back up to stand. You were trying your hardest not to burst out into laughter, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Stupid fucking bucket…” Javi mumbled to himself.

“Watch out for those buckets, they’ll getcha.” You yelled mockingly between your hysterical laughter.

“I didn’t see it.”

“Then watch where you’re going next time!”

“It isn’t that funny.”

“It is a little funny.” You still chuckled to yourself.

Out of witty responses, Javi only shook his head at you before disappearing behind the house. Around the corner, he found his father, also laughing in hysterics, barely getting his words out over his snorts.

“Got distracted by something while you were walking?”

“Fuck. Did you see that too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hijo.”

“Goddamnit.” Javi put one hand on his hip and the other palming his face.

“Ah, to be young and blinded by love again.” Chucho shook his head as he began walking out towards the field.

“Dad, please, for the love of-“ Javi pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose as Chucho cut off the rest of his sentence.

“I know, I know, I will leave it alone… for now.” He winked at Javi as the two men made their way back out into the field, Javi peeking around the house to take one last look at you before he left.

If there was one thing that you had learned since moving to Texas, it was that it got hot. Fast. You truly didn’t mind the heat- it beat the terrible midwest winters you had dealt with every year since childhood. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like you slowly melting away only after a few hours out in the blazing sun. Beads of sweat pooled on your forehead as you clipped all of your hair up and out of your face, hating the feeling of it wet and sticky against your neck. Your shirt was practically drenched from the sun hitting your back for so long. You were thankful that you were getting closer to being finished, only leaving watering the flowers as your last step. If this was your own garden, you would have been weeding and trimming at a lightning fast pace, but something about the way Chucho had so tenderly clipped each branch and gently tugged each weed made you slow down and take your time with every step. Given the way you had watched Javi curiously perk up as his dad had offered you the task made you feel like this wasn’t a job that he would have offered to just anyone. The last thing you wanted to do was mess it up. As you made your way around the edge of the house, leaving only the last few bushes, you noticed a large, flat stone at the base of one of the hydrangea plants. You squatted down next to it, using your hand to dust off the dirt covering the top, plucking some weeds growing around the edges. Under the dirt, your fingers began to trace over indents in the rock that felt like letters. With a few more swipes of your hand, you were able to make out the words under the soil.

Lucia’s Garden

You sat there for a few moments, rubbing your fingers gently over the indents in the stone, lost in thought as you imagined the vibrant image of Javi’s mother amongst the equally bright and beautiful flower garden.

“Hey, Osita.” Even though the voice was soft and familiar, you had definitely not heard Javi creep up behind you, and when his strong and calloused hands rested on top of your shoulders, you just about jumped out of your skin.

“Ah! Jesus, what is it with the Peña men and absolutely scaring the shit out of me today?” You jumped up, catching your breath as Javi rested his hands on the outside of your arms as you turned towards him. He laughed softly to himself as you regained your composure. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while. Not that I’m mad about it, but I find it very unlikely you and your dad are already done with the fence. Unless you both have some crazy superpowers, besides sneaking up on people, that I don’t know about.”

He chuckled, as he placed his hand under your chin, tilting it up towards him as he gently wiped a smudge of dirt off of your cheek. “No, not done yet. But, I did just get a call that the guys who were supposed to come help. They’re back on the road and should be here soon, and they were able to bring a few extra people with them with building. So, I was able to convince Pops that they had enough help with the fence, that you could come help me do the rest of the chores around the ranch for the night, if you want.”

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna let me help with anything.” You crossed your arms and smirked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean if you don’t wanna see the animals,” he said, putting a knowing emphasis on the word, “then that’s fine I guess-”

“Wait. That’s what this is?! We get to go see the animals?! Why didn’t you say that first, dummy, let’s go!” You shrieked, practically dragging Javi away.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so excited to feed cows.”

“AND we get to feed them?! This is really turning out to be way better than anything I had planned.”

“You’re ridiculous, Osita.” He laughed as he smiled at you, finding it both hilarious and absolutely adorable at how excited you were. Here you were, covered in dirt and sweat, practically begging him to walk through a smelly barn to feed even smellier animals, all because it meant you got to be with him. Him. He truly needed someone to pinch him, because he was convinced he had to be dreaming. Well, if he was, he guessed he could let that dream keep going just a little longer.

“I don’t understand how you don’t think this is the coolest thing. What do we have to do first?” You looked up at him, eyes glistening with excitement.

“We'll stop at the barn and get some hay and feed, then take the truck out to them.”

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!”

You both hopped into Javi’s truck and headed towards the barn. While it was only less than a minute away, Javi wasted no time gripping his hand over your bare thigh, stroking his thumb back and forth over your skin as he drove.

“Do you wanna wait in here while I get stuff?” He asked gently as he put the truck in park pulling up to the barn, still rubbing his hand against your knee.

“That is the stupidest question you have asked me all day. If I’m here to help, I want the full Peña Ranch experience.” You quickly unbuckled yourself as you opened the passenger door, sliding out. Javi shook his head and laughed to himself as he followed behind you.

“You really want the full experience?” He stood facing you, arms crossed over his chest with a smug look on his face.

“Yes! I told you, I’m here to help. Don’t take it easy on me, Peña.” You mirrored his stance, leaning into your hip and shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay.” He chuckled as he opened the barn door and then stood back to lean against the back of the truck. “We need four bales of hay and 2 buckets of feed. All you, Osita.” He motioned to the barn wall, stacked high with bales of hay from end to end.

“Easy.” You reached your hands above your head to stretch before you walked over to the hay, Javi standing and watching. “How heavy can they be? It’s just hay!” You leaned over the closest bale, reaching down to the two strings binding it together to pick it up. Oh shit. This was WAY heavier than you thought, but there was no turning back now. Taking a deep breath, you grimaced your face as you tried to lift the bale as high off the ground as you could, shuffling awkwardly towards the truck. You let out a much louder than intended grunt as you heaved the bale of hay up into the truck bed, letting out a few deep breaths and putting your hands on your hips after you finished, trying as hard as you could to play off the fact that the task was much more difficult than expected. “See?” Your words heavy between each pant. “Easy.’

“Do you want to go get the buckets of feed while I finish the hay? Or was it so easy that you wanna do the rest of them?” Javi smirked.

“I mean, I guess if I’m getting the full experience, I should probably learn how to get the feed too. ” You replied, trying to hide the fact you were still trying to catch your breath.

“Okay, Osita, whatever you say.” He winked, smirk still spread across his face. “There’s some barrels back there labeled with feed. You can put 3 scoops in the red bucket and 3 in the blue. Should be easy.” He leaned down to give you a quick kiss before making his way over to the hay bales.

“Pendejo…” You muttered to yourself.

“You love it.” He teased, easily lifting a bale and tossing it into the truck.

Thankfully, the feed was nowhere near as heavy as the hay, and you were able to carry both buckets over to the truck where Javi was waiting for you. “You want me to put those in the truck for you, or are they easy too?” Javi mocked, clearly getting enjoyment out of your stubbornness.

“Oh shut up, I just wasn’t expecting the hay to be that heavy.” Your grumbles and defeat quickly turning into giggles and smiles as Javi lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the truck bed, his arms placed outside your hips as he leaned in to pepper you with ticklish kisses across your neck and face. “It would be so much harder to be mad at you if you weren’t the hottest cowboy I’ve ever seen. Didn’t know I had a thing for them until you showed up all hot and sweaty and handsome and I’ve been trying so hard to not get distracted, especially considering we’re hanging out with your dad, but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

“You don’t think it’s been any easier for me watching you just walk around in those jean shorts all day? Jesus, Osita, you’re fucking killing me.” He planted another hot, wet kiss on your neck as his hands shifted, running up and down your thighs. You could feel heat flushing over your cheeks as you felt arousal build in your belly.

“Javi, we cannot do this here, we’re at your dad’s house. I want him to like me, I don’t need him to catch us screwing around here.” Your breaths slowly turned into moans, making your argument less and less convincing to Javi as he had his fingertips gripping into your hips, pulling you close to him as his kisses crept up your neck and along your jaw.

“He already loves you, hermosa. Don’t worry, I have it figured out. You’ll see.” He pulled his lips off you, suddenly, winking before walking away towards the driver’s side door, leaving you sitting on the truck bed, worked up and desperate.

“Wait, woah, what? What do you mean you have it figured out? You can’t just do that and walk away!” You scrambled off the truck bed, hopping into the truck with him.

“C’mon, Osita. We have cows to feed, remember?” With the way this man kissed you, you were lucky if you could remember your name after he was done.

Feeding cows and sexual tension were two things that you would have never thought would have gone hand in hand, but here you were, barely holding it together as you looked over at Javi. His aviators perched on his strong nose, gray shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, the width of his hands around your leg? You sure hope whatever mystery he had planned was coming soon because your self restraint was starting to run thin. That was, until you looked out the truck.

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THERE WERE BABY COWS?” You practically jumped out of the passenger door as the truck pulled to a stop, speeding up to the fence where four calves were waiting for you. “Can I pet them? They’re so cute!” You hadn’t even bothered to help Javi haul the food out of the truck bed as you reached out to scratch the bridges of each little cow’s nose.

“I figured you’d like these guys. Hola, chiquitos. Tienes hambre? (Hi, little ones. Are you hungry?). He cooed in a sweet, soft voice that made your heart melt. “Do you wanna feed them while I take care of the others?”

“Is this gonna be another hay bale situation?” You joked sarcastically, scratching under one of the cow’s chins.

“No, this one is actually fun. Hold on.” He went back over to the truck, pulling out 4 large bottles that he must have grabbed while you were getting the rest of the feed. “They’re not old enough for grain feed yet, so they’re still bottle fed.” He passed one of the containers off to you, before grabbing his own to demonstrate. “All you have to do is hold it with both hands and let them drink out of it until it’s empty. Each calf gets one. They’re cute, but don’t let ‘em fool you, they’re still strong, and very hungry.”

“Got it.” You replied, taking the bottle in both hands, the calves beginning to moo as they caught a glimpse of their food. You held it up as the cow’s tongues shot out of their mouths before one of them latched on to the bottle. You giggled as the calf sucked out of the container, Javi smiling at your enjoyment as he grabbed a bale and made his way further down the fence to feed the rest of the herd.

“Ringo is very strong.” You grunted, gripping on to your final bottle as Javi approached you again, finished with his feeding duties. “At least he’s nicer than George, he tried to bite John and Paul when it was their turn to eat!”

“Hermosa, who are you talking about?” Javi laughed, amused at the sight of you trying to keep the calf from ripping the bottle out of your hands.

“The cows! They needed better names than 6, 14, 27 and 31, which was all their tags said. And there’s four of them, so I figured they could be the Beatles! John, Paul, Ringo and George!”

“Normally, we don’t name them, it’s too hard to keep track of, that’s why they have numbers. Also, all these calves are girls.” He still laughed to himself as he leaned down to pick up the empty bottles and put them back in the truck.

“Oh… Well, it doesn’t matter, I think their names are still cute, who cares. More fun than the numbers.” You nudged Javi playfully as you pulled the empty bottle away before throwing in the truck bed with the others. “Bye, Beatles!” You waved at the cows before hopping back into the truck.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Well at least I’m your dork.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you are. You ready to head back?”

“Let’s go cowboy.”

As you headed down the dirt path, you could see the sun slowly starting to dip beneath the clouds, painting the sky to a beautiful orange and pink. You leaned over the center console, resting your head on Javi’s shoulder, as you snaked your arm under his, gently squeezing his hand as your fingers interlocked. There was something so peaceful and perfect about the moment, how you could almost feel the threads of each of your lives slowly becoming more intertwined with each moment you spent together. You could spend a million more nights just like these just sitting by his side, driving anywhere to do anything. It didn’t matter, as long as you were with him. You were so caught up in the beautiful fantasy of the moment, that you hadn’t even heard him over your daydreaming.

“Hermosa?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” You shook your head, coming to.

“I uh, I know you’ve already spent a lot of time here today with me and my dad, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I was um, wondering if you wanted to stay for dinner? Maybe spend the night here?” He shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel as he looked at you with his sweet, puppy dog eyes.

“Really?” Your face lit up instantly, thrilled by the fact Javi wanted to spend more time with him and his dad.

“Yeah, like I said, um, don’t feel like you have to, but-”

“Javi.” You paused, gazing back at him. “I would love to.” You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as you leaned back over to rest your head against him again as you pulled back up to the house. As Javi put the truck in park and you pushed on the handle to open the door to hop out, you felt a tug against your wrist, drawing you back in. You turned back, Javi’s eyes looking you up and down, his tongue darting out between his lips before clenching his jaw. Without saying a word, you shifted back in your seat, Javi’s hands engulfing your face, as he pulled you in, meeting his lips with yours. As your mouths crashed into each other, you could feel your heart race, electricity flowing through your veins, feeling Javi pull you closer to him. There was something so desperate about it, like he was holding in something he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that he just couldn’t say.

I want you. I need you. I love you.

You hoped those were the words sealed between his kisses. You hoped he felt the plea of your kiss, too.

I want you, too. I need you, too. I love you, too.

As you both slowly pulled away, your heavy breaths mingled in the few inches left between your parted lips, Javi’s traced soft and tender circles around the line of your jaw.

“I really like you, Osita.”

“I really like you too, Javi.”

Those were the best words you could muster from the silent screams of your kiss. Those words would have to do, for now.

“Do you wanna head inside? I’m sure your dad’s probably waiting for us.” You asked, regrettably.

“I really don’t want to, but we probably should.” He huffed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, giving you one last kiss on the head before you made your way in the house.

As you entered through the front door, you could already hear Chucho in the kitchen tinkering with pots and pans and singing along to the Spanish radio station in the background. “So, do we have a guest for dinner?” Chucho spoke in between lines of the song, hearing that you and Javi had come through the front door.

“If that’s okay?” You replied, now making your way into the kitchen to see the array of food that Chucho had spread across the countertops.

“More than okay, mija. I’d hope you’d stay.” He said with a soft smile as he wiped his hands the apron he was wearing, worn and faded letters across the front reading “Besar a Cocinero” (kiss the cook).

Rubbing his hand against the small of your back (grazing dangerously close over ass) as he stood behind you, Javi looked down and smiled. “Osita, do you wanna take a shower before dinner? I can throw all your clothes in the wash too if you want?”

“What? Are you saying I smell bad?” You took a step back, crossing your arms against your chest.

“Well, no, I mean, uh-” Javi tripped over his words.

“Javi, oh my gosh, I’m just kidding.” You said, playfully swatting at him. “I know I probably smell like a troll, so a shower would be great. I didn’t bring any extra clothes, though.”

“A cute troll, at least.” Javi laughed, having to remind himself that the majority of the things that came out of your mouth were completely unserious. “You can borrow some of mine until yours are clean. Here, I’ll show you where the shower is.” He took you by the hand as he led you down the hallway, stopping at the first door on the right, leading into Javi’s bedroom. His room was neat and minimal, not much in it besides his bed, dresser, desk and a bookshelf with some scattered picture frames and a few unpacked boxes in one of the corners. You stood there for a moment, looking around at the space as Javi walked across the room to open the door where his bathroom was. “Shower’s in there, towel’s hanging up on the door, and I’ll set some clothes out for you on the bed when you’re done.”

“Thanks.” You smiled as you bit down on your lip, taking a slight step towards him. “You um, probably want my clothes I’m wearing right now for the laundry, right?”

You had been trying so hard to not completely fall apart at the sight of Javi all day. Especially with wanting to make a good impression on his dad, it took everything in you to keep yourself from crawling all over him from the minute you walked through the door. You knew there was nothing you could really do about it right now, but Javi’s not so subtle point to close and lock his bedroom door also hadn’t gone unnoticed. Slowly, you stretched your arms over your head to strip your T-shirt, dropping it on the floor as Javi’s jaw went slack, his eyes undressing you faster than you could undress yourself. You undid the button and zipper to your shorts, pushing them down your hips as they dropped around your ankles, leaving you in just your bra and underwear, and Javi just about speechless.

“Fuck me.” He whispered to himself as he stepped into you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his big hands sliding up your back as he unclipped your bra, helping it slide off your shoulders before tossing it into the pile of the rest of your clothes. You let out a silent moan as he kissed down your chest, his tongue flicking against each of your pebbled nipples as his hands worked down your hips, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs before they fell to the floor. You could feel his bulge straining against the denim of his jeans pressed against your leg as he ran his hands up and down your curves, planting hot and heavy kisses across your body. You wished so badly that he could toss you on his bed and fuck you right then and there, but you had to keep reminding yourself that his dad was only a few feet from Javi’s room before you got too carried away, a fact that Javi seemed to have forgotten given the way he was all over you.

You outstretched your neck to nip at his ear letting out a long and shaky breath before you whispered. “I think you got all the clothes you need, I’m gonna get in the shower now.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as you pulled away from his grasp, shooting him a quick wink as you giggled, closing the door to the bathroom. You left Javi standing in the middle of his room, breathless and riled up as he stood next to the pile of your clothes on the floor. He placed one hand on his hip, the other running through the dark locks of his hair before reaching down to grab your clothes as he mumbled to himself.

“God, I’m so fucked.”

You felt like a new person stepping out of the shower now that you had scrubbed yourself clean of the dirt, sweat and grime from the day. You wrapped yourself up in the fluffy navy blue towel that Javi had left for you, drying the damp ends of your hair before opening the door to step back into Javi’s bedroom. Sitting on top of the plaid comforter that covered his bed, you noticed a pile of clothes Javi had left for you with a post it note placed on top. You picked it up, laughing to yourself as you read it.

Hope these clothes are okay. Sweatshirt and sweatpants are for later, gets cold outside at night. FYI, payback’s a bitch.

See you soon, beautiful,

-J

Wondering what Javi had planned for outside, you set the gray sweatpants and maroon crewneck aside, picking up the white t-shirt with “Texas A&M Swimming” written across the front. You slipped it on over your head before shuffling on the black pair of cotton sleep shorts Javi had left for you, rolling them up a few times so they didn’t slide down your waist. You reached for the doorknob of the bedroom, opening it slightly as you heard Javi and his dad’s voices from the kitchen, listening in on their conversation.

“I know Dad, believe me. I’ll tell her, just… I can’t yet. I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“Well don’t take too long. She is a special girl, Javier. You and I both know it. Don’t you think there was a reason I let her tend to your mamá’s garden? You know very well I don’t trust just anyone with Lucia’s flowers. I barely trust you. She would always tell me how much she couldn’t wait for you to bring home a woman you loved, a daughter to have to spend time with there. Dios la bendiga (God bless her), I wish she could have met her. Your mother would have loved her. You two are perfect for each other. Ella es tú media naranja. (She is your better half, your soulmate). I know you love her, Javier. I find it very hard to believe that she doesn’t love you too.”

I want to tell her. I know you love her. She loves you too.

The words rung in your ears as your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. Your mouth hung open as heat crept up your cheeks, your mouth stretching with the widest, stupidest grin. Holy shit. Part of you wished you hadn’t heard it, only because now it was taking every ounce of you to not bust through the door, kiss his sweet face and tell him how much you loved him too. Thank God there was a part of your lovestruck brain that still had some sense of awareness left to it, as you heard the thumps of Javi’s footsteps towards the door, followed by a “I’m just gonna see if she needs anything before I get in the shower.” You scrambled back from the door, trying to do anything you could to make it look like you hadn’t just overheard the conversation in the kitchen. You pretended to fold your damp towel as Javi opened the door, leaning against the frame.

“Hey, you’re done! Shower okay? Tried to find whatever I could I thought would fit you best.”

“Yeah, great! Shower was great, clothes fit great, everything is great. Perfect.” The words spilled out of your mouth in the least casual way possible, sounding frantic and panicked as they fell from your lips.

“Osita, you okay? Are the clothes not comfortable? I can get you different ones? Or if you’re worried about spending time with just you and my dad while I’m in the shower, I-”

You cut him off, standing up on your tiptoes and balling up the shirt covering his chest in your fists as you reached up to press your lips into his, lingering for as long as you could before breaking away. “I’m sorry, everything is perfect. Seriously. You just surprised me when you came in. I’m excited to spend time with your dad and the clothes are just fine. Not sure what I’m gonna need these sweatpants and sweatshirt for but I’m excited to find out.”

He let out a small huff of relief as he ran his fingers through the wet ends of your hair before kissing the top of your head. “Like I said, I’ve got it all taken care of, you’ll see. I just have to shower real quick, and Pops said food should be done real soon. Does that work?”

“Absolutely. Have a good shower, ya stinky cowboy.” You winked as you gave his butt a quick squeeze before heading out into the kitchen.

“Ah, Mija!” Chucho’s cheerful greeting making you smile as he milled around the kitchen, whistling along to the upbeat song on the radio. “I hope you’re hungry! It seems like I am getting in the habit of making way too much food. I am glad we have an extra mouth with us tonight to help us.”

“I’m glad to be here! I’m starving. Is there anything else you need help with?” You asked, looking around at even more photos that hung in the kitchen, quickly realizing how fond Chucho was of displaying his loved ones in every inch of the house. You caught a glimpse of another photo of Javi hanging above the dining room table, this one of him in a cap and gown, holding his diploma as he stood next to his mother and father, proud looks beaming across their faces. Chucho noticed you staring, his heart warmed by the genuine interest you seemed to have of his life in photos spread across his home.

“No, honey. Already finished, just cleaning up a few things, but that can wait for later. That’s when Javier graduated from college. We were so proud of him.” He gestured, pointing over to the picture you were staring at.

“Yeah, I bet. You can tell from the picture how happy you are for him. It’s very sweet.” You smiled, seeing how much both of his parents loved and cared for Javi.

“Do you want to see more?” You turned around to face Chucho, almost giddy with excitement.

“More what? More pictures? Yes please!” You grinned.

“Perfecto. Take a seat, Mija, I’ll be right back.” He pointed over to the kitchen chair as he made his way over to the living room, rustling around and returning with 4 large stacks of photo albums. “I’m glad you asked about these now, Javier would kill me if he saw me getting all of these out for you, but they are too good not to share. Here, start with this one.” He opened up the first book with a worn, brown leather cover, flipping to the first page. It was filled with pictures of Javi’s mom, still pregnant and setting up the nursery, followed by newborn Javi, face scrunched and covered in a dark brown head of hair. “Lucia was so excited when she found out she was pregnant. We had tried for so long, and by some miracle, along came sweet Javier. Oh, did she love him.” He spoke as you continued flipping through the pages, smiling with each turn, honored to hear about Javi’s life, long before your paths crossed. “Oh, this is a good one!” He stopped you, pointing to a photo of Javi, who couldn’t have been older than 3 or 4, sitting on top of a cow with a sweet, toothy grin. “He’s always loved animals. He would cry every night, mamácita, papácita, mas vacas, por favor! (Mommy, Daddy, more cows, please!) because he loved listening to those cows moo so much.”

“That’s so adorable. It’s so nice that you have so many photos of him.” You smiled, opening up the next book on the table.

“Good to have memories of all of the moments that live in your heart.” Chucho sighed as you flipped to a photo of Javi blowing out candles on a birthday cake, sitting on his mother’s lap, as she cheered for her son.

“Jesus, Pops, are you serious?” Javi rolled his eyes as he strolled into the kitchen, setting down your extra sweatpants and shirt on the counter before running his towel through his damp curls, knowing exactly what his dad was up to.

“Javi, you were such a cute kid! What happened?” You and Chucho snickered to yourself as Javi put a hand on his hip, running his tongue across his teeth, trying his best to not give away the fact he couldn’t have been happier to see how well the two of you were getting along.

“Fine, fine. Looks like we’ve been busted, Mija. We’ll save the rest of these for another time.” He chuckled as he scooped up the photo books, bringing them back to the living room.

“You’re no fun.” You nudged Javi, as he stood next to you, now freshly showered and wearing a dark blue shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that were about to make you fall out of your chair.

“You should be thanking me. I’m saving you from all the awful, awkward photos of me from after I was a cute kid.”

“But those are the best ones! Besides, with how handsome you are, I have a very hard time believing you ever went through an awkward stage.”

“And that’s why the rest of the photo books are getting put away.” He laughed as rested his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind your chair. “Dinner ready, Pops?”

“Sí, on the counter, in the bag ready to go.” He pointed to the counter where a large brown paper sat.

“Wait,” You paused, confused by the exchange. “Why is it in a bag? I thought we were eating dinner together here?” Your brows scrunched in surprise as you looked back and forth between Javi and his dad.

“Don’t worry about me, mija. I’ve already taken up too much of your time. Besides, señor romance tiene otros planes.” (Mr. Romance has other plans).

“Oh, so what are these plans, Mr. Romance?” You giggled, you and Chucho equally enjoying the embarrassing Hell you had both put him through today.

“Jesus Christ. Alright, we’re going now, bye Pops.” He mumbled as he grabbed the extra clothes and food from the counter, you following close behind him as you made your way to the front door.

“Alright, so where are we off too, Mr. Romance?” You giggled as Javi started up the truck after throwing the food and clothes in the backseat. “I hope whatever you’re doing is because you think I don’t want to spend time with your dad.”

“Osita, that is the least of my worries. You two together are turning out to be a much bigger pain in my ass than I ever expected.” He joked as the two of you laughed, both relieved by how well you had been getting along with his dad. “No I just, I know I said it before, but I’m so glad you came today. You didn’t have to do any of this, no one… no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. Just, I don’t, I, um-”

You slipped your fingers between his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, Javi.” Had no one ever really done something this nice for him? In your mind, today couldn’t have been an easier decision. You were so glad that he was letting you into his life- to meet his dad, to see where he grew up, to learn more about his past and what shaped him into the man that had your heart. It killed you to think that something like this was something he’d never had. “So, is this what you kept telling me you had planned today? Where are we going? Are we eating there? Is it outside?”

“Jesus, you really do hate surprises, don’t you? Remind me to never throw you a surprise birthday party. Don’t worry, you’ll see. You trust me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes, what are you-”

“Osita, please.”

“Fine, fine.”

You leaned your head back over onto his shoulder, closing your eyes as you drove in a comfortable silence, bright golden sunset spilling into the windows of the truck as traveled along the worn dirt path. Between a gap in the fencing along the side of the gravel road, Javi turned, driving the truck through part of the open field before swinging it around, turning the front of the car facing the direction you came.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“What happened to you being so patient? Keep them closed, give me one minute.”

“Not even a little peek?”

“Osita…”

“Okay, okay, no peeking, I swear!” You kept your eyes shut as you heard the door close on Javi’s side of the truck, the backdoor also opening and closing after he shuffled around, grabbing what you assumed were the things from the backseat. You heard the bed of the truck slam down before Javi was back rustling around in the front of the truck, reaching over your lap into the CD’s. You could hear him quickly pick one out before sliding it into the CD player, the “Rumors” album by Fleetwood Mac now playing over the speakers.

“Good pick.” You smiled, eyes still shut tight. “You almost done yet, Mr. Romance? Or is this how I finally go? You’ve hid the axe murderer act long enough and now you’re gonna bury me out in the field, never to be seen again? I guess it is clever on your part.” You laughed to yourself, knowing what the look on Javi’s face must have been as he rolled his eyes at you, even if yours were still scrunched shut. You heard him shuffle out, opening your side of the car.

“Give me your hand, you dork.” You felt his palm under yours as your fingers wrapped around his wrist as his other hand held your hip, helping you scoot out of the truck. He guided you to take a few steps before releasing your hand. “Okay, now you can open.”

You wanted to give him some witty remark, a sarcastic jab, anything to give him a hard time about how he had made you wait for whatever this mystery surprise was, but as you opened your eyes, you were left speechless. Looking out in front of you, you saw nothing but miles of green grass, hills rolling up and down along the horizon as far as the eye could see as the sunset bursted with a ferocious orange and pink glow, peeking just above the clouds, slowly getting ready to sink into the land below. “Javi…” You paused for a moment as you took in the view. “This is beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.” With Javi standing behind you, you assumed that he too, was taking in the spectacular view. And to him, he was. It just wasn't the sunset that he was referring to.

You turned around, remembering the rustling you had heard in the backseat, wondering what Javi had been doing in the truck bed. The back of the truck was filled with blankets and pillows with Chucho’s bag of food sitting on the edge. Still speechless, you stared back at Javi awestruck by the moment. “C’mere.” He said, patting the truck bed, lifting you up and following close behind you. You both snuggled in under the blankets, Javi wrapping his arm around you as you laid into his chest, watching the sun slowly fade away behind the clouds. “Good surprise?” He leaned into you, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your arm.

“Great surprise.”

Reaching his hand across your body, he cupped the side of your face, turning it toward his as his lips gently pressed against yours. He pulled back for a moment, foreheads pressed against each other, mouths barely separated, like he was looking for the right words to say but he just couldn’t find them. “Kiss me.” You whispered. “Kiss me, Javi.”

You could feel your weight shift as Javi rolled you over, his body now hovering over yours as your mouths crashed together in a way that was deep and intense without being frantic or rushed. His tongue dipped in your mouth, your lips parted between soft, breathy moans, pressing his body deeper into yours with each kiss. “Javi…” You whined, ache building between your legs as you felt his length pressed against you from his sweatpants, already hard and heavy against your thigh. He slowly began to make his way down your body, hot, wet kisses covering your belly as he pushed your shirt further up your body. He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, carefully helping you shimmy them down as his hand dipped between your legs, his fingers barely grazing against your entrance. “Javi, pleaseeee.” You moaned again, begging to have him do something to ease the throbbing burning in your core.

The sweet whispers of his name on your lips made his cock twitch. Early today, after you had wrecked him in his bedroom, teasing him as you stripped your clothes in front of him before getting in the shower, he was going to take his sweet time, making you beg for his touch. But as he took you in, every beautiful inch of you, his willpower crumbled in an instant. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you slow and deep, for you to feel all of him, to watch you come undone as you whispered his name, pulling him closer and closer into you with each stroke. He wanted to fuck you so that you could feel those 3 words he just couldn’t say to you yet.

“I know, baby.” His fingertips pressing just a little further, feeling how absolutely soaked you already were. “Wanna take my time with you, okay? Wanna make you feel good.” His voice sent shivers down your spine as you nodded, his fingers now slowly sinking deeper into you, making your back arch from his touch. He kissed along the inside of your thighs as his calloused thumb began to gently rub around your clit, his fingers already drenched as they began to steadily rock in and out of you. His kisses made their way from your thighs to your clit as he carefully flicked his tongue, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm underneath him. “Always so wet for me, pretty girl.” The hot breath of his words danced along your heat as his dark brown eyes locked with yours. He dipped his head back down, licking a long, broad strip against your bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back and forth over his fingers. His tongue swirled around your clit, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart as you moaned with each touch.

“It feels so good, Javi. Fuck, babyyyy.” You whined, feeling your cunt clenching tighter and tighter around his thick fingers as his mouth worked its magic between your legs. With each thrust of his hand and lap of his tongue, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the pressure in your stomach starting to build, your breaths heavy and shaky.

“I know you’re close, Osita. Let go, baby. Come for me. I got you.” He knew his words were just what you needed to send you over the edge. With a few more thrusts of his hands, he could feel your pussy flutter around his fingers.

“Javi, Javi, Javi, Jaaahhhhh-” You whimpered as you felt the heat grow at the base of your spine, pleasure shooting through your body as you came around his fingers, your jaw slack as you felt your legs shake.

“Such a good girl for me, Hermosa. My good fucking girl. Tastes so sweet, baby.” He praised, slowly pulling his hand out of your heat, dipping his fingers into his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. He sat up on his knees, still between your legs, the outline of his already hard dick pressed against his sweatpants as he pushed them down his hips before pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He leaned back down over you, grabbing one of the blankets by his feet to cover your bodies.

“Are you afraid a cow’s gonna see your bare ass?” You giggled, still coming down from your high as you gestured to the blanket now covering both of you. His arms outstretched outside of your shoulders as you laid on your back, he joined in your laughter, dropping his forehead down and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re ridiculous, Osita. Fuck, I love it. I love everything about you. Fuck. You’re fucking perfect.” He stared at you for a moment, his sweet brown eyes taking in all of you, like he couldn’t believe you were real. That you were his.

He swallowed, his mouth parted like there was more he was desperate to say but couldn’t quite get out. You pushed your head up off of the pillow underneath you, gently pressing his lips against yours, his hand shifting you cradle the back of your head, his fingers tugging at the ends of your hair as he set you back down. He shifted back slightly, using his hand to stroke himself a few times before flushing his hips against yours, his cock lined up with your entrance. Neither of you said anything, feeling at a loss for words in the moment, both of you silently seeming to agree that something about now felt different than all the other times before. You barely nodded your head as Javi slowly sank into you, taking his time, letting you adjust to him inch by inch before bottoming out, stopping for a moment as you let out a soft moan that Javi quickly swallowed with a kiss. He began to rock his hips back and forth, taking his time, gradually filling you deeper and harder with each thrust, his whispers hot against your neck.

“Fuck baby, I’ll never get enough of you. My fuckin’ perfect girl.”

“Javiiiii” You whined, your arms wrapping around back, nails pressing into his shoulders as his cock hit the spot inside you that lit you ablaze. His hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to rub your clit, still slow, taking his time with each graze of his fingertips as his pace held deep and steady. Every thrust in and out of his hips had you wrecked as he filled you so deeply and intensely, moaning his name as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you.

“I know, Hermosa, I know. Does it feel good, baby? Knowing you’re mine? That you’re the only one I ever wanna make feel like this?”

His words had you whimpering as he nipped at your neck, his hand gripping on your hip, thrusts becoming faster from your sounds. “Oh my god, yes, Javi. Fuck, it’s all yours. I’m all yours.” You wanted nothing more, for him to be the only one whose sweet words made you fall apart, the only one who ever came close to making you feel this way. You could feel the coil in your belly beginning to snap as the pad of his thumb rubbed rapidly against your clit, his cock driving into you as your vision went white.

“I know you’re close, Osita. I can feel it. Wanna see you when you come. Wanna see your beautiful face, pretty girl.” The brown pools of his eyes filled with want and need as they locked with yours. You could feel your foreheads touching, his damp curls brushing against you with each push of his hips, your bodies melting into each other as you felt the coil inside your belly snap.

“Fuck, Javi, fuck, baby, I’m gonna, gonna-.” Your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure shooting through every inch of you as you wrapped yourself around Javi. It was so intense, the way the feeling crashed through you, how everything about him had you completely wrecked, how tightly you could feel yourself clenching around his length as you came.

Watching you come completely undone under him, Javi found himself quickly falling apart at the sight of you. Each stroke was faster and sloppier than the last, like he was desperate to show you how badly he wanted you, needed you. He could feel the sweet tingle of his release building, his brain going blank as the words fell from his mouth. “That’s it baby. Fuck, Osita. Gonna cum so deep inside you, fuck you full of me. Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine. Soy tuyo, Osita. Mi corazón es tuyo. Es todo para ti. Eres mi todo, Osita. Te am-ahhhhhh.” (I’m yours, Osita. My heart is yours. It’s all for you. You’re my everything. I love yo-). He could feel each throb of his cock pulsing as he spilled into you, riding out his high with short, shallow thrusts, making sure every last drop of him was inside your walls. He melted into you, his body collapsing onto yours as your heavy breathes synced, chests rising and falling together.

You paused for a moment before you spoke. You replayed his words in your head over and over again, not sure what you were trying to convince yourself of. You weren’t sure of everything he had said, trying to piece together the Spanish you knew as you came down from your high, but if there was one sentence you knew for sure, it was the last one, even if it had gone unfinished.

Te amo. I love you.

“Javi…” You paused, your heart practically beating out of your chest. “What was the last part you said?”

Javi froze. You could feel his Adam’s apple bob against your chest as he swallowed, his head still buried in your neck. You waited for what felt like an eternity before he pressed himself off you, rolling over, laying beside you. “I uh, I don’t, um, I don’t remember all of it.” He tripped over his words, eyes scrunched tight, like he couldn’t bear to look at you out of fear of what he had said.

“Javi. Javier Jesús Peña. Please. Please tell me what you said.” You placed your hand on his chest, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you, your face pleading, practically begging to hear the words that had fallen from his lips once more.

“I’m yours, Osita. My heart is yours. It’s all for you. You’re my everything. I… Fuck.” You could see the tears welling behind his eyes after he ran his hand over his face. You moved your hand from his chest to under his jaw, cradling his cheek.

“Javi… Say it. Please.” Your words met his ears barely above a whisper. He paused, taking one more trembling breath, staring off into space for a moment, like he was praying with everything he had left in him that you really did want to hear it.

“Osita… Fuck. I… I love you.”

“Javi,” Your voice shook as you felt the tears trickle down your cheeks, rounding and red from the grin growing across your face. “I love you too.”

It was only for a moment that you saw his face mirror yours before you could feel his hands grasping around your face, pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel like fireworks were exploding inside you. He squeezed his arms around you, a mix of laugher and tears leaving your body as he pulled you on top of him, wrapping you in his embrace.

“Really?” He questioned, his words still shaky as he smiled at you, running his trembling hands through your hair.

“Of course, Pendejo. Of course I do.” You both laid there for a moment, breathing in sighs of relief and joy, soaking in every moment of that four letter word. You loved him. He loved you. Javier Peña loved you.

You rolled over, both of your bodies curled in the blanket on top of you, staring into the sky, now fading into a deep darkness, speckled with spots of shining stars above you. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing else besides the two of you. Up until now, there were few things in life that you had been sure of. On a Wednesday in late May, you knew one of those sure things was that you had fallen head over heels in love with Javier Peña. And now, you knew one of those sure things was that Javier Peña loved you too.

..............

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @persephone-girl

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straykeedz · 4 months

Text

9𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐦 ; 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 @astraysimp, "9 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠"!

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

🏷️: @mellhwang ; @autumn583 ; @hyunsvngs ; @hotchnrz ; @galamxy ; @ebbaskz ; @turtledove824 ; @galaxycatdrawz ; @fawnpeaks ; @bigsobs4skz ; @143lix ; @bangchans-babygirl ; @aaasia111 ; @reid-deiri ; @tenshimara ; @dancerachaslut ; @peachygirlsthings ; @saturnandgold ; @justscrollinthrough ; @jesuisstay ; @shinywolfbears ; @lewoh-ot8-wh0re ; @alnex05 ; @mixtape-racha ; @shujohajohaminnie ; @heartheartisa ; @skzstaykatsy ; @manuosorioh ; @whosanaanyway ; @cvntywonyo ; @lilinaskzz ; @jinnie-ret ; @notastraykid ;♡

wrote this one specifically for my bestie 🥺 aka @astraysimp (she’s seungmin’s wife!!!)

𝐭𝐰:𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐲 ; 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐯 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭!!!) ; 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦 ; 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 ; 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞 ;

𝐰𝐜: 2,7 𝐤

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

📑

The umpteenth ball of paper lands on you – this time hitting you right on top of your head. You lift your gaze to glare at your boyfriend, and let out an annoyed sigh. It’s a warning, but Seungmin doesn’t really catch what you’re trying to communicate to him, and throws another one at you, which falls right inside your cleavage.

“Seungmin!” you whisper-shout. The school library is practically deserted, yes, but one can never be too careful…

Your silly boyfriend just sits there and giggles, finding the whole situation funny. It’s kind of a game the two of you like to play from time to time – he annoys the shit out of you, you eventually snap and get upset at him, and he makes it up to you by giving you a couple of orgasms in a row. Not today, not now – you suppose, you’re in the college library.

“What?” he smirks, and throws another ball of paper which lands on the floor, a couple of inches behind you.

“Finals start next week,” you quirk an eyebrow at him toying with the pencil in your hand, pointing it right at him as if to scold him. “And you haven’t studied more than ten pages since we’ve arrived.”

“I don’t need to study. I pay attention in class, I’m not you – I just need to revise.”

You glare at him a second time, then shake your head and return to the paragraph you were previously reading before he interrupted you – multiple times. He seems to have finally read the room and eventually stops throwing paper balls at you, but something tells you he’s quite not done teasing you. You manage to read half a paragraph, when -

“Y/N…” he sing-songs, lolling his head to the side as he looks at you.

You lift your gaze a second time, “What is it now?” you sigh.

“I’m boooooored,” he chants, an annoying smirk on his face. Still, he looks incredibly cute.

“Let’s finish chapter four, then we can call it a day, hm?” you suggest, hoping he’d say yes – you really can’t afford to lose a day of study, not with how unprepared you are.

Seungmin snorts, wrinkling his nose, then takes out his phone from his pocket and opens a game app. You don’t comment on it – at least you’ll get to be able to finally finish reading the last paragraphs without any interruptions. Or so you thought, because less than five minutes later Seungmin interrupts you again, this time silently – you see out of the corner of your eye his hand, a pencil held tight between his slender fingers, and then… he’s doodling a penis on your book. He even adds a few wavy lines, which you suppose must represent pubic hair.

You lift your head to look at him, again, then let your pencil fall on the table as you cross your arms over your chest and rest your body against the seatback. “Really? A penis? What are you, twelve?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

He just smirks – then, another doodle, a vagina. “See?” he points at his artworks, “this is my penis and this is your vagina.”

You squint your eyes as you look at the two doodles. “It doesn’t look like your penis, though,” you comment.

Seungmin scoffs, “You have to use your imagination, y/n. This doesn’t look like your vagina either – yours is way prettier than this.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I guess,” you furrow your eyebrows, giggling.

“Hey, why didn’t you say my penis is prettier than this abomination of a drawing?” Seungmin chides you, and he sounds actually offended – he even places a hand on his chest to make the whole scene even more dramatic.

“Mhh… I don’t know,” you hum, taking a better look at the doodle, “this looks better, honestly.”

Seungmin gasps, looking at you with his eyebrow raised and eyes open wide. “Take that back,” he glares at you, “now.”

You hold back a giggle. “Why? It’s the truth,” you tease him.

Seungmin quirks an eyebrow at you and then – he stands up. He stands up in the middle of the room and you watch closely as he fidgets with the button of his jeans, undoing it relatively fast, before he unzips them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, scanning the room with your eyes to double check you’re really alone.

“Seems like you’ve forgotten how good my penis actually looks. We can’t have that now, can we? You need to be reminded,” he explains, then hooks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers.

“Seungmin!” you gasp, widening your eyes, waving your hands in the air. “What are you doing, oh my God! We’re in a public place!”

He turns his head to his right, then to his left. “There’s nobody else here. We’re the only people here.”

You end up looking at his crotch and – “Seungmin, are you… are you hard?” you whisper-shout, looking at him absolutely shocked, mouth agape.

“I was bored,” Seungmin shrugs.

“I’m not following…”

“So I doodled a penis on your book, and then a vagina – and then I started thinking about the last time my penis was inside your vagina and, well… here we are,” he points out as if it were a sensible explanation.

“Seungmin, you can’t whip your dick out in the library!” you scold him. However, you have to admit it sounds kind of tempting. Maybe it’s the risk of it all, but the more you think about it, the hotter it seems.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t find it sexy,” then he leans in and speaks in a lower tone, “the idea of being here all alone… We could do anything we want, nobody will find out, ever.”

His words send a shiver down your spine and a tingle between your legs.

“But what… what if we get caught?” you look at him through your eyelashes with beautiful doe eyes, and Seungmin swears he can feel himself getting even harder – you just look so innocent, it drives him absolutely crazy.

“We won’t,” he assures you, “But if it makes you feel better, we can do it… against the shelves. If somebody walks in, we’ll just pretend we’re looking for a book.”

He seems to have given this a lot of thought – you wonder if he thought of this even the previous times you hung out at the library for your study dates. You have to admit, though, that the idea sounds intriguing. The risk of it all, the impatient Seungmin is clearly feeling right now, the way you’re feeling incredibly wanted and desired right now…

“Okay.”

The next thing you know, the palms of your hands are pressed against the wood of the bookshelf, the furthest from the library entrance and the closest to a wall – that way, you’ll be able to see if anyone walks in.

You feel Seungmin’s fingers toying with the hem of your dress, before you feel his hot breath on your skin as he whispers in your ear, “You’re driving me crazy – wearing a dress to our study date…” he places an openmouthed kiss behind the shell of your ear. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” You whimper when he squeezes your hip with his other hand. “Were you hoping for this, hm? You wanted to get fucked against the shelf, didn’t you?”

You kick your head back and part your lips when Seungmin’s fingers slip under your dress, brushing your bare thighs as his lips ghost the skin of your neck. At the same time, he’s grinding his hard-on on your ass – you can clearly distinguish the outline of his thick, hard dick sliding between your asscheeks. Seungmin lets out a huff once his fingers brush your panties.

“Lace,” he mutters, clenching his jaw. “You wore fucking lace to our study date. This just kind of proves my point, you know? You were hoping to get fucked,” he chuckles, biting on your earlobe as his fingers circle your clit over your underwear which, by now, is entirely soaked.

“Mhhh, maybe,” you smirk, biting your lower lip.

Seungmin grunts, hooking his fingers in your panties as he pulls them to the side, now being able to touch you properly without any barrier between your bodies. And then, his other hand lets go of your hip, and you hear him fidget with his pants once again, probably whipping out his dick from his boxers. You know you’ve guessed right when he lifts your dress the bare minimum, and then you feel his cockhead brushing the skin of your asscheek.

“Bend over, bub, just a little,” Seungmin instructs, nibbling your ear.

You close your eyes and hold back from letting out an obnoxiously desperate moan. After all, it’s not been that long since you’ve last had sex, a week or so, but right now it feels like an eternity – you’re desperate. And judging by how hard Seungmin’s dick currently is, he must be pretty desperate too. So you oblige diligently, arching your back just right, giving him a better access to your pussy. When his cockhead brushes your wet folds, you both hiss.

“You’re, like, crazy wet. You’re unreal, bub – unreal.”

Firmly holding his cock by the base, he lets his tip run your folds a couple of times, letting it kiss your clit with each movement, and a cocky grin spreads on his face when he feels your legs buckle slightly. He places a kiss on your shoulder as he applies the tiniest bit of pressure on your entrance – after making sure his cockhead is entirely coated in your wetness, naturally.

“Tell me you want it,” he mumbles, ready to push inside. His hand comes to rest on your hip once again, gripping your dress between his fingers.

“I want it,” you repeat word for word, and he bites on your shoulder, applying some more pressure until his tip finally slips inside of your hole, then he pulls out. He pushes back inside, then pulls out again. “Don’t tease,” you scold him.

He just chuckles, “okay then.”

Then, he pushes all of his length inside in one, painfully slow motion. Your legs shake a bit, and Seungmin cusses under his breath once he feels how tight you are – your hot walls hugging his thick, pulsating member perfectly. He’s still amazed at how you feel around him, even though you’ve fucked countless of times.

“Oh, Seungmin,” you whine once he’s balls deep inside of you. You feel incredibly full in the most delicious way – you’ll never get tired of having Seungmin’s cock inside of you.

“I know, bubs, I know. Feels so good, doesn’t it?” he huffs in your ear, squeezing his eyes when he feels your walls clench around him – the sensation is so overwhelming he might bust right here, right now. He has a feeling he won’t last long.

“Yeah, s’ good, Min,” you bite your lip, arching your back even more – he reaches a deeper spot inside of you, once that makes you shiver, goosebumps all over your arms and thighs.

He removes his other hand from under your dress, placing it on your other hip. Then, you feel him pull almost all the way out until only his cockhead is inside of you, before he thrusts back inside at a slow pace. He does it again. And again. And again, squeezing your hips tighter and tighter with every movement inside of you as sinful sounds escape from his throat.

“Your pussy ‘s making me feel all dizzy, bubs,” Seungmin mumbles in your ear, before biting on your earlobe once again, “never felt a better pussy.”

“Min, you literally never felt pussy in general before mine,” you giggle, but a much deeper and intense thrust makes you gasp.

“Buuuubs,” he whines in protest, but still chuckles, “you’re ruining my dirty talk!”

“Sorry, sorry, go on,” you lick your lips, swaying your hips back and forth to meet his thrusts.

Seungmin moves one of his hands to cup your breasts, groping and squeezing it as the pace of his movements increases a little – his breathing getting a bit more labored.

“You’re so wet, bubs, fucking drenched,” Seungmin grunts, his eyes rolling in the back of his skulls when his ears get filled with the squelching sounds your sweet pussy is making, “dripped all over my balls. I bet it’s even leaked on my pants,” he smirks.

“Min,” you moan, and you feel yourself getting red in the face – you love dirty talk, but you can’t help but get a little shy sometimes, especially when Seungmin says such explicit and filthy things, but you definitely love it.

“’M not gonna last, bubs,” he moans, hips moving faster as he pounds into you – the sounds of skin slapping on skin being muffled by your layers of clothing, “not with how good you feel.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, nodding as your hands grip the wooden shelf tighter until your knuckles turn white.

“Wanna get you off,” Seungmin moans, kissing your neck, occasionally licking your skin just to get a better taste as your perfume fills his nostrils. “Wanna give my bubs a good orgasm. You deserve it, you’re so good to me.”

The hand that’s groping your tit travels all the way to the hem of your dress, before it’s slipping under it once again – Seungmin’s fingers finding their place back on your clit, teasing your sweet bud over your panties, which provide the right amount of friction. He nearly loses control and busts his nut when you unexpectedly clench around him.

“Yeah, that’s right, fall apart on my cock,” Seungmin grunts, his nose ghosting the sensitive skin behind your ear as his fingers continue to stimulate your clitoris over your panties.

“Min, Min, feels good,” you whimper, feeling yourself getting even wetter than before, if possible. “Feels so good, Min.”

“Yeah? I bet it does,” he grunts, hips snapping to meet yours. “Gettin’ fucked in the library like a slut, you dirty girl. You love having my fingers teasing your pretty clit while I fuck you, huh?” he pants in your ear.

His fingers repeatedly brush your clit – up and down, fast, until you’re releasing around him. The only warning you give him is a choked sob – then, your whole body trembles, your legs shake, and your walls pulsate around his thick cock.

“Min, Min, oh-“ you chant, arching your back even more until you’re practically bent in half.

“Fuck, bubs, I’m com-“ he’s cut off my a moan, and before he can process what’s happening, he’s reaching his orgasm, releasing his load inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He bites on your shoulder to muffle the sounds that are threatening to fall from his lips and betray him as his whole body shakes from the intensity of his high. Then, once he’s sure he’s finished, he rests his forehead against your shoulders as you both catch your breath.

A sudden noise makes the both of you panic, and you exchange looks before quickly fixing yourselves and your clothes. Seungmin pulls out of you and puts your panties back in place as he tucks himself back in his boxers, zipping his pants back up. You wince at the feeling of his cum oozing out of your hole, staining and probably ruining your panties.

It smells terribly like sex in the library, and you both agree to just recollect your stuff and leave, calling it a day. As you’re putting your books in your backpack, Seungmin’s phone buzzes a couple of times.

“Who is it?” you ask him, not because you’re the controlling type – you’re just curious.

“My side chick,” he deadpans, then bursts into a laugh at the sight of your flabbergasted expression. “’M kidding, it’s the guys. They want to hang out at Jeongin’s tonight.”

“Oh, you’re going?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’.

You frown. “Why not?” you ask him.

He puts his arm around his shoulder, leaning in to whisper in your ear – “You didn’t think I was done with you and your sweet pussy, did you? You’re in for a long night, bubs.”

📑

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭! “𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧” 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝

#seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin hard hours #kim seungmin hard thoughts #seungmin hard hours #seungmin hard thoughts #stray kids masterlist #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids #skz smut #skz masterlist #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #9mitm

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illiterateaffairs · 11 months

Text

DISTRACTIONS XI | SOMEONE TO STAY

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 6,369

summary: ted has some news to share with the team that unexpectedly leads to other secrets coming out.

A/N: here it is - the penultimate chapter of distractions! i’ve had the events of this chapter planned out for what feels like forever, and i finally get to share it with you all. thank you for reading and i can’t wait to see what you think💙💛

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

It should come as no surprise that you and Jamie end your night after the Man City win doing some…not-so-innocent activities to celebrate. You’re hesitant at first, not wanting to agitate Jamie’s ankle, but your attentiveness only turns him on more. You’re not entirely sure what time you actually fall asleep, but in the early morning light, you’re awoken by Jamie leaving a trail of kisses on your face and down to your neck, and before you know it, you’re going another two rounds.

You bask in the afterglow side by side as you catch your breath. When you look at Jamie, there’s a dopey smile on his face.

“You happy or something?” you ask teasingly and his smile only widens.

“Just a little,” he murmurs, leaning over to give you another kiss.

You lay on your sides facing each other for a few quiet moments, as you trace the tattoos on his arm.

“Have I mentioned how much I like your tattoos?” you whisper.

“Mm-mm,” Jamie shakes his head.

“Well, I do.”

“Have you ever thought about getting one?”

“A couple times, but not seriously,” you tell him, “Not sure what I’d get.”

“I think you should get a big number 9 plastered across your back,” he suggests with a faux-serious expression.

You snort, “And why would I do that?”

He shrugs innocently, “So you can have a piece of your favorite footballer wherever you go.”

“That’s funny because you and I both know my favorite footballer is…”

“I swear to God if you get the number 24 tattooed anywhere on your body, I’ll scream.”

You laugh out loud, placating your boyfriend with another kiss. “I think I’ll have to keep thinking of other tattoo ideas before I commit to anything officially.”

“Fine,” Jamie agrees.

You move your fingers up the length of his arm to run gently across his face, “With everything that happened last night, I never got the chance to ask you about your dad. Was he at the game?”

Jamie looks down, but covers your hand with his, “No, he wasn’t. Which I think honestly messed with me more. I ended up texting him afterwards, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” you whisper, knowing their relationship was complicated, but that he still begrudgingly cared about the man, “I think reaching out could be good. You don’t have to forgive him, but you deserve a little closure.”

Jamie nods, “Yeah. Ted said something like that, too.”

You smile internally. Of course he did.

Jamie lifts his head to glance at the clock on your side of the bed, “I think we overslept.”

You roll your eyes light heartedly, “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Jamie smirks giving you yet another kiss, “We should get ready. Can I drive you to the club today?”

Your heart flutters at how excited he seems to publicly take you to work for the first time. Unfortunately, you had a few loose ends to tie up this morning, so you’d be going to the club later this afternoon, getting the all clear from Rebecca over text on your way home last night.

“I’ll actually be in a little later today. I have some things I need to do first,” you’re attuned to the way Jamie’s face falls, so you quickly reach out to stroke his cheek again, “I promise there’s nothing to worry about. I want to tell you everything. I was thinking over dinner tonight? I can make my lasagna that you like so much.”

Jamie’s expression relaxes, though you can tell he’s still a bit weary of what exactly you’ll be telling him. Still, he gives you a tiny smile, “That sounds great, babe.”

“Good. Now hurry up and get ready. Don’t want Roy to yell at you.”

Jamie groans, but reluctantly pushes himself out of bed. You eventually manage to get up yourself once he’s ready, pulling on one of his tee-shirts so you can kiss him goodbye at the door.

Once he’s gone, you take a deep breath. Despite your indecision about your job situation, spending the night carrying on with Jamie, Keeley, and Roy made what you wanted to do become clear as day. You weren’t sure how everyone would react, especially with the trouble Keeley and Rebecca had gone through, but you knew in your heart you had to follow your dreams on your own terms. And that’s exactly what you were going to start doing this morning.

Jamie arrives at Nelson Road with a sense of self assurance he’s never had before. Sure, he’s always had an air of confidence and cockiness about him his entire life, but today Jamie feels a special sense of pride when he enters the locker room. Not only had he helped his team win a game in his home city the night before, he was dating the most incredible girl he has ever met and now everyone knew it.

As if they didn’t hype him up enough about it the night before, his teammates greet him with pats on the back and teasing remarks about the match, and about you. Jamie rolls his eyes, joking right along with them, but on the inside he’s admittedly enjoying the praise. He knows the team loves you, and is very protective of you. And while he knows they’ve grown to love him too since returning to Richmond, it warms his heart that they not only approve of his relationship with you, but are almost as excited about it as he is. Almost. He was definitely the most excited.

The Greyhounds go about their morning, getting ready for training, and the spirit continues to be high. For whatever reason, though, Jamie senses a shift in the mood when the coaches enter the locker room. They’re probably going to want to get serious about their final game of the season, he assumes, but another piece of him worries that something else is going on.

“Hey, everyone listen up,” Ted calls out and he’s missing the usual pep in his voice, “I’ve got something I want to say to you all before training.”

The team instantly stops whatever they’re doing to give their coach their full attention. Ted exchanges a look with Coach Beard who nods reassuringly. Roy and Trent stand off to the side, seemingly in the loop as well, and they don’t look thrilled about whatever it is.

When Ted turns back to face the team, he’s scratching his face nervously, but he takes a deep breath and continues, “There’s been a lot going on in my life lately, mentally, as you may know. And while I’ve been handling things better, there’s still one thing I can’t fix here, and that’s my relationship with my kid. He hasn’t said anything himself, but I know I’m not present enough in his life. So, that’s why I decided after our season’s over, I’m going to go back to Kansas. Permanently. So...this will be my last week as your coach.”

It takes everyone in the room a second to process this, but when reality hits them, there’s an uproar of confusion, sadness, and frustration. It's unclear what each of them say, as they talk over one another, but most are just trying to tell Ted to stay in their own way.

Ted nods his head, letting them get it all out, before raising his hand to calm them down. “Hey, hey, hey. I know it’s sudden, but trust me I didn’t think this through lightly. Coaching you guys the last few years has been one of the greatest honors and privileges of my life. But now I need some time to focus on my family and I hope you all will come to understand that.”

Silence blankets the room again, before another chorus of murmurs echo their understanding, though the mood in the room is still solemn. For Jamie’s part, he’s mostly remained silent from his seat on the bench, too shell-shocked by the news to say or do anything. He understood that Ted was leaving, but the actuality of it wasn’t hitting him completely yet. Probably because he didn’t want to let himself believe it, with how important Ted was to him, even if he didn’t always acknowledge that.

“So, who’s gonna be our coach next year?” Dani asks, and few teammates tack on ‘yeahs’ in equal curiosity.

Jamie notices Ted’s eyes briefly flit to Roy, but the assistant coach just continues starting straight ahead with his arms crossed.

“Uh, I’m not sure yet. Think that’s up to Rebecca, but I just told her the news this morning,” Ted answers honestly.

“Coach Beard, are you leaving, too?” Colin questions this time.

Everyone’s heads whip to the man in question at the front of the room next to Ted.

Slowly Beard nods his head, “Yeah. I’m leaving, too.”

Another round of depressed groans carries through the locker room as the team processes a second loss.

“Wait, what about Y/N?” Sam brings up before he can even stop himself, but as soon as he sees the alarmed look on his coaches faces, he realizes his mistake. “Shit.”

The team grows quiet again, their heads turning to Sam this time, and Jamie’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your name.

“Uh, what does Y/N have to do with this?” Isaac questions.

“Yeah, just because she’s American doesn’t automatically mean she’s leaving, too.” Jan Maas adds on.

While Jamie’s equally confused, his heart continues to pound against his chest. With furrowed brows, he looks between a guilt-ridden Sam, and Beard and Ted, who exchange looks of their own. An uneasy feeling forms in the pit of his stomach, as he and the rest of his teammates wait for an explanation.

A nervous Ted clears his throat, nodding again, “I think what Sam is referring to is that...Y/N is actually my niece.” To the chorus of gasps, Ted continues, “Yeah. She didn’t want you fellas to know, so you didn’t think she got her job because we were related.”

Jamie’s heart drops. So many things become clear in that moment; why it felt like you’d been keeping something from him, how you’d become so close to Ted in a short period of time, why you were so good with Henry when he visited. You’ve known him your whole life. He can barely hear Ted continue as he processes all of this.

“I’m sure this isn’t how she pictured you all finding out. But either way, me leaving doesn’t necessarily mean she’ll want to go as well,” he tells everyone.

However, no one has time to feel relief when a small voice pipes up.

“But what about that job she’s interviewing for?” Will asks from the back of the room, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Suddenly nervous with everyone’s eyes on him, he carries on with a stutter, “I-I heard her talking to Sam in the boot room about it one day. She’s interviewing for a writing job in New York.”

Once again, everyone’s heads sharply turn to Sam, who looks apologetically at Jamie across the room. That’s when it sinks in for everyone. You in fact could be leaving them too.

Jamie can barely hold eye contact with Sam, turning his attention to his shoes. His breathing goes heavy, and he barely makes out Coach Beard ordering everyone to start heading towards the pitch for training. Sam is the last one to file out besides Jamie. He wants to apologize to his friend, for helping keep your secret, and letting Jamie find out this way, but he doesn’t know what to say to make him feel better. So, he just defeatedly follows the rest of his team out of the locker room doors.

Jamie’s not sure how much time passes when a hand on his shoulder brings him back to reality.

“Hey, Jamie,” Ted’s soothing voice says to him, “Want to chat in my office for a sec?”

Jamie nods absent-mindedly, rubbing his face before following behind his coach. He passes Roy who only gives him a pat on the back before leaving with Beard and Trent.

Ted shuts the door behind Jamie, before rounding his desk to sit in his office chair. Jamie fidgets for a few seconds before leaning against the shelf near the door.

After it's clear Jamie’s not going to start this conversation, Ted speaks up again himself, “Well, first off I want to say I’m sorry that you found out about everything this way. I’m sure she wanted to tell you all of that herself, and I’m sure Sam didn’t mean for it to come out that way either.”

Jamie nods, still not looking at Ted. Internally, he laughs bitterly. You were probably going to tell him all of this tonight; feed him a nice meal just to break his heart.

“If it’s any consolation, this is the first time I’m hearing about this job in New York, too,” Ted adds, “So it has nothing to do with my decision to go back to the states, if that’s really something she’s considering. In fact, I haven’t had the chance to tell her my news either.”

“So, she’s really your niece?” Jamie finally says. He definitely knows it's the truth, but he’s still in disbelief that it's been right under his nose the whole time.

“Sort of,” Ted snorts, “Her dad is Michelle’s brother. So, in a way she’s not technically my niece any more. But she’s still my family in the way that matters.”

Jamie nods again. A piece of him is touched by the way Ted has clearly been looking out for you the last few months; especially after your breakup. But another part of him is horrified that he’s been sneaking around with a relative of Ted’s this whole time.

It’s as if Ted can sense his uneasiness as he speaks again, “I’m really happy for you two by the way.”

“Really?” Jamie asks, making eye contact with him for the first time.

“Really, really,” Ted nods, with a kind smile on his face, his head resting in his hand, “I think it’s great. I mean, I just found out yesterday, but she is clearly very smitten with you.”

Jamie’s cheek’s flush and he prays Ted doesn’t notice. “You’re not going to threaten me or tell me I’m not good enough for her?”

“Nah, that’s more of a dad’s job; and she’s got two so I’m sure you’ll hear that speech plenty,” Ted teases, “But I also know you, Jamie. I’ve seen you come into yourself the last few years, and that person is a good guy. Getting to see your growth has been one of the best parts of coaching this team, and one of the things I’ll miss the most. I don’t need to tell you not to hurt her, because I know you won’t. Besides, I can see that you’re just as smitten with her, if not more.”

If Jamie wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now. Not only because of his comment about his feelings for you, but also due to Ted complimenting him. He was once again overcome with sadness thinking about Ted not being around anymore, but he couldn’t handle that thought right now. And he certainly couldn’t handle thinking about how he’d feel if you were leaving, too.

Unsure of what else to say, Jamie just settles on a simple thank you.

Ted gives him another supportive smile. “Don’t mention it. Just go easy on her about this whole job thing. She’s probably confused by it all, and she might not even go. Just talk to her about it, okay?”

Jamie nods, managing a tiny smile of his own. “Coach?” he asks softly, “Would it be okay if I skip training today? Think I need to clear my head. Might end up going for a run on my own anyway.”

Ted nods assuringly, “Of course.”

As Jamie stands up and heads for the door, he turns to Ted one last time. “Coach?”

Ted looks at him curiously.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me the last three years. I think it really sucks that you’re leaving, but I understand why. You’ve got to do what’s best for you and your family, and I’m sure your son will be glad to have you back around. I know the rest of the team’s bummed, but they’ll probably be over it by tomorrow and support you, too.”

This time Ted is the one overcome with emotion, knowing it's rare to get this much sentiment from Jamie Tartt. Trying not to show it, Ted just nods and gives him another smile. “Thank you, Jamie.”

With one last tight smile, Jamie pulls open Ted’s office door and disappears around the corner.

Your plan to have a productive morning was very successful. After treating yourself to a big, homemade breakfast, you hunkered down at a local café to get some things done regarding the job options you had. In effort to not get distracted, you turned your phone on ‘do no disturb’ and then spent a few hours drafting emails, tightening up your manuscript, and preparing what you were going to say to Jamie later in the day.

After feeling satisfied with your work, you close your laptop and decide you have a bit of time before you need to be at the club, so you plan to go to the grocery store to get everything you need for dinner with Jamie. However, when you open your phone to type out a list, you see dozens of missed calls and texts.

Your first instinct is that someone had to have died. But that was ridiculous. Still, your nerves are spiking as you check your texts. There were a slew of them from various members of the team, and even Roy and Trent Crimm. In some shape or form, they were all asking about your relation to Ted, whether or not you were leaving Richmond, and if you were taking that job in New York.

You feel like you’re going to be sick. How the fuck did they know all of that?

You get your answer when you finally listen to the one lone voicemail you had. It was from Sam.

“Hi, I can’t talk long, I’m meant to be at training, but I need to tell you that I fucked up and I’m sorry. The team knows about you being related to Ted. And about the New York job. It all just came out and I can explain more later, but I just need you to know that I’m so, so sorry. And I’m sorry if it hurt Jamie, but I know you two will work it out. Okay, I gotta go. Beard and Roy are coming. I’m sorry again. Okay, bye.”

There’s not an ounce of you that can be mad at Sam, especially with how distraught he sounds. And shit. Jamie. The one person that didn’t reach out. You can’t imagine what he’s thinking right now.

Running out of the café, you furiously navigate your phone to order an Uber to the club, furiously cursing yourself for not being able to drive on the left side of the road. Stupid England.

Once you arrive, you race through the halls to the locker room. It's about time for lunch, and you count your blessings that most of the team must have already left the premises to eat. Among the few stragglers is Sam, who is anxiously sitting on the bench staring at his phone. His head shoots up when you enter, causing him to stand with wide eyes, meeting you halfway.

“Oh, my God, Y/N, I am so sorry, I completely messed everything up,” he begins, desperate to fix it all.

You shake your head as aggressively as you can, “You do not need to apologize to me. It’s okay. I just need to find Jamie, is he here?”

Sam frowns, “No. He didn’t end up training with us today, and no one’s heard from him since this morning.”

“Shit,” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. You rack your brain for where Jamie could have possibly gone, but one thing still isn’t making sense to you. Dropping your hands, you return your gaze to your best friend.

“Sam, why did this all happen?”

Sam’s shoulders sag, his expression unreadable. His eyes eventually leave yours to look at something over your shoulder. The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you spin around to see Ted standing in the doorway to the coaches’ offices. He nods his head for you to join him.

Glancing back at Sam one more time, he gives you a small smile and squeezes your shoulder. He apologizes one last time, to which you assure him that everything is okay. But you were finding it hard to believe that yourself.

Ted shuts the office door behind you and you dramatically fall into Beard’s chair as Ted sits in his own.

You don’t bother beating around the bush, “What the hell is going on? I don’t come to work once and Sam ends up spilling the beans on everything. Did something happen?”

Your uncle gives you a sympathetic smile, “Yeah. I spilled some beans of my own.” At your confused expression, Ted plows forward, “I’m going back to Kansas.”

“For the summer?” you ask, though you fear you know the answer.

“No, Kiddo,” he sighs, “After the season’s over, I’m moving back to be closer to Henry. And Beard’s going back, too.”

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, but still find it hard to process, “When did you make that decision?”

“This morning, after my mom left,” he admits sheepishly, “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

You sit across from him in silence, taking it all in. The only reason you were here in the first place was because of Ted. What were you supposed to do now?

“The team didn’t exactly take it well,” Ted explains, “And in the midst of the chaos, Sam asked what me leaving meant for you. Everything sort of snowballed after that.

You inhale deeply, taking it all in.

“And Jamie?” you ask quietly, “How did he take it?”

“I think he was just caught off guard and trying to figure out how to process it all,” Ted tells you, “He was surprised about the family thing. And the whole job in New York thing.”

“Jesus, he’s probably pissed at me again,” you groan, “I was literally going to tell him everything tonight. I just needed a few more hours.”

Ted’s lips quirk up, “That’s life, Kiddo. It doesn’t always go exactly how we’d like it to.”

You scoff, “Yeah well life is stupid.”

“Yeah, it can be,” Ted chuckles, “I think it sounds great; a writing job in New York. That’s what you’ve always wanted, right? To write and live in the Big Apple?”

“Yeah. It was,” you say quietly, “But I wasn’t sure if that's what I wanted still, so I was trying to figure it out before I told Jamie. Or anyone.”

“Hey, that’s fair,” Ted nods supportively, “If you want my humble opinion, I think it’s great if you want to go for it in New York. I also think it’s great if you decide to stay here and continue to figure things out. Heck, it would even be great if you wanted to come back to Kansas, too. But Kiddo, you have to make that decision, whatever it may be, on behalf of yourself. Not for me, not for Jamie, not for anyone else. Just for you.”

Ted’s words settle in the air and you take it all in. While you were already pretty dead set on what you were going to do, you definitely agreed with his sentiment. You had to follow your own gut for once, not anyone else’s.

“You’re right,” you eventually say softly, “I think I know what I’m going to do, but I think I owe it to Jamie to finally have him be the first to know.”

Ted gives you a supportive smile, and your stomach flips.

“So, you’re really leaving?”

Ted nods solemnly, “I’m really leaving.”

“Then who the hell is going to make ridiculous puns around here to annoy Roy?”

This makes Ted snort, “I don’t know. I’m hoping I’ve rubbed off on enough of them, that they’ll carry on the tradition.”

You laugh along with him. You wonder if Ted will ever fully understand the impact he’s had here. On the club, on the team, and even on you these past months. You have a feeling even if he did, it wouldn’t be enough to change his mind.

You spend the next few hours trying to track down Jamie, hoping the sooner you could find him and explain things, the less damage would accrue.

However, he wasn’t answering your calls or texts, and no one seems to know where he is. You fear, even after your promises to communicate with each other after your last falling out, Jamie had once again resorted to pushing you completely away.

Lucky for you, Keeley happened to pop by the club that afternoon, and after getting caught up on the drama, insisted on driving you to Jamie’s to see if he’s there. Unfortunately, after searching every nook and cranny of his lavish home, you resign to the fact that he’s not there. You feel defeated as you resituate yourself in Keeley’s passenger seat, unsure of what to do next. She offers to drive you around Richmond, suggesting that Jamie could be blowing off steam, running somewhere, and maybe you’d pass him. You take up her offer, less so because you hoped to catch a glimpse of him, and more so to avoid going home to any empty home for a little while longer.

It was nearly 6PM by the time Keeley drops you off at your flat. Suffice it to say, you didn’t find Jamie jogging around Richmond. You also didn’t find him wallowing in Crown and Anchor, but that didn’t stop you and Keeley from doing so yourself over a quick pint before calling off your search for the night. As she drove you home, you briefly wondered if Jamie could have possibly fled back to Manchester, to see his mom again. But that was four hours away, and there was no chance you were asking Keeley, or anyone for that matter, to make that drive. And the Uber fare would be atrocious.

As you climb your apartment stairs, you resign to a night of waiting by your phone, hoping to hear from him, and if not, trying to find him again tomorrow.

When you walk into your home, you’re instantly overcome with the feeling that you’re not alone. You’re proven right when, as you’re discarding your coat and shoes, Jamie enters the living room from your kitchen.

“Hi,” you breathe out, after getting over the shock of seeing him, “Have you been here the whole time?”

Jamie shrugs, “I went on a run for a bit. But eventually I got the urge to come here.”

You nod, still on edge, “You, uh, didn’t think to answer any of my calls or texts?”

Jamie cringes, “So, I’m pretty sure I left my phone in my bag in the locker room.”

You scoff in disbelief, “Jamie…”

“I know. I know. That was stupid. But I left the club in such a hurry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I was worried sick all day, I thought you were shutting me out again,” you whimper tiredly, unable to stop yourself from giving into the emotion that built up all day.

“Shit,” Jamie mutters, taking large steps to close the gap between the two of you to gather you in his arms, “I’m sorry.”

You allow yourself to feel comforted by his embrace for a few seconds before you’re shoving him away abruptly, “Fuck! I shouldn’t be making you apologize to me, when I’m the one who lied to you and hurt you. Again!”

You cover your face with your hands, frustrated at yourself for making Jamie feel even an ounce of guilt, when you were once again in this situation because of you.

Gently, Jamie pries your hands from your face and interlocks your fingers together. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, though! I keep messing things up between us because I don’t know how to communicate like a normal human being. And you don’t deserve to be jerked around like this. But I promise, I can explain everything if you give me the chance.”

Jamie swallows, taking in your words, though a tiny smile plays at his mouth. “I promise I will give you the chance, but is it okay if I say some things first?”

You hesitate, your eyebrows furrowing over what he could possibly have to say, but eventually you nod.

“Thank you,” Jamie whispers, giving your hands another squeeze and then he takes a deep breath, “You’ve been spending a lot of time lately reassuring me that I’m good enough, but I feel like I haven’t done enough to assure you that you are more than enough for me. Yeah, it has sucked to feel like you were keeping stuff from me. I knew you couldn’t have been doing anything wrong, but it still hurt that you either didn’t want me to know or trust me enough to let me in. But now I understand that it has nothing to do with me. I get that letting people in is hard and that you were afraid that the secrets you were keeping would make things harder. Sure, it would have been nice to know you were related to Ted from the get-go. I might have not tried so hard to sleep with my coach's niece the first chance I got.”

You manage a small laugh.

“Obviously, I don’t regret that though. And I get why you did it. I get that it might have made your job more complicated, and then even more so once we got together. Telling family is a big step. So, I get it, I do.

“I even get why you didn’t tell me about the job in New York. The thought of you leaving…I can’t even think about it too much. But I also know that it's your dream. And the last time you told a guy you wanted to go after your dream, he discouraged you. And even though I would never do that, I know deep down that still scares you. But I want you to know that I think it's amazing; that you’re writing again, and that you have the opportunity to do it in the city you’ve always wanted to live in. I’m so proud of you, and want you to be where you need to be. Even if it's not here with me. So, that's why, as much as it kills me to say, I think you should do it. You should take the job in New York.”

Jamie’s words weigh heavily on you. Firstly, you’re heartened by his reassurance that you were more than enough for him. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear that. Secondly, you were simultaneously surprised and not surprised that he was encouraging you to pursue the New York job. It wasn’t a direction you had been expecting this inevitable conversation to take, but it was Jamie you were talking about. Of course he’d say exactly the right thing and support you, even if it meant you moving back to another continent.

Overcome with complete adoration for him, and since words are failing you at the moment, you can’t help but to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. As you pull away, Jamie is clearly surprised by the act of affection, but he’s also not complaining. He looks at you expectantly, hoping you do eventually have something to say in response to his speech. And you do. You just need to figure out how to word it best.

You eventually inhale your own shaky breath, meeting his eyes once again, “Thank you, for saying all of that. It means a lot to me. Even if you say you understand, I’m still sorry for keeping everything from you, especially now that it has come out this way. It really all stemmed from not wanting to mess anything up between us, but of course the opposite still happened.

“I’ve been dying to tell you about Ted for so long, but like you said, telling family is a lot, and Ted’s an important part of your life too, so I didn’t want to make things weird between you two.

“And the job…I knew you’d be excited for me. But I think I just never wanted to see the look on your face when you heard it was in New York. And then things got more complicated when Keeley told me she knew a literary agent, here in the U.K. who might be interested in meeting with me.”

“Oh?” Jamie’s eyebrows shoot up in hopeful curiosity.

“Yeah. So, as you may have guessed, I needed some time to sort out what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go.”

“And,” Jamie asks timidly, “Have you decided?”

After a few beats, you nod. “Yeah. I decided I can’t work for that agency here.” Jamie’s face falls and you’re quick to latch back onto his hand, “But I also can’t take the job in New York either.”

Jamie stares at you in total confusion, “What?”

You smile slightly, finding his expression oddly adorable. “I want to write more than anything, and part of me is happy doing it by any means necessary, but I also hate the idea of not being able to prove myself on my own. Back in Chicago, Mason got me the job at the advertising firm. Then, when I got tired of that, Ted and Rebecca got me the job for Richmond. My friend from Chicago got me an interview in New York, and Keeley knows a literary agent here. Everything I’ve done has been because some else suggested it or did it for me. I’m not naive enough to know that sometimes connections are how people get work these days, but I don’t want that to be my story. I want to succeed because I did it on my own.

“So, this morning, I told the publisher in New York I was no longer interested in interviewing for the reading position, and then spent hours refining my manuscript and submitting it to a few small, independent publishing houses to see if any of them would be interested in working with me. I know it won’t be as lavish as the publishing houses in New York or the one Keeley had connections to. But all writers start from somewhere, and I want to start somewhere on my terms.”

Jamie digests everything you said, and eventually gives you a shaky smile, “And where are these publishers you submitted to?”

You give Jamie your own shy smile, “Right here, in England.” Jamie’s grin widens as you continue, “I’ve never felt more at home, than I have here. And with the exception of my own family, I’ve never been surrounded by more people who genuinely care about me. I feel more like myself than I ever have before and I’m not really keen on losing any of that.” You bite your lip, “And I also sorta really like a certain footballer that lives here, too. So that’s kinda the cherry on top of it all.”

Jamie lets out a disbelieving laugh, “So, you’re staying?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Is that okay?”

Instead of answering, Jamie places both his hands on either side of your face and kisses you with as much passion as he can muster. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate, sliding your hands up his stomach to rest on his chest. You knew better now than to make a decision on behalf of a man, but god, were you glad that you got to keep doing this for the foreseeable future.

When Jamie pulls away from you a few moments later, his eyes are watery, “I know I said I was okay with you going to New York - and I meant that - but, God, I’m glad you’re not.”

You giggle, “I’m pretty happy with my decision, too.”

Jamie leans in to kiss you again, but you lean back with your nose scrunched up. Your brain is less clouded by emotions now, and you finally pick up on the aroma flooding your home.

“Are you cooking something?”

Jamie smiles awkwardly, his face flushed, “Yeah, so during my run, I had this grand idea to surprise you with dinner like you usually do for me. So I grabbed what I could from the store and attempted to make your lasagna recipe. It’s probably nowhere near as good as yours is, and the garlic bread is store bought, but that shit still tastes fucking good, if I do say myself.”

You can’t keep the bright smile off your face, “I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

Jamie squints, “Yeahhh, maybe wait to try it first before you give me too much credit.”

You giggle and shake your head, before pulling Jamie in for a warm hug, which he accepts without protest.

You couldn’t care less how the food was going to taste. It could be burned to a crisp and you still knew it would be the best meal of your life. Because Jamie, your Jamie, took the time to make it to make you happy. And push you towards a decision that he thought would be what you wanted, even if it hurt him.

You were so lucky to have him, and you were comforted by the fact that he seemed pleased to have you as well. And now there were no more secrets between you threatening to unravel everything. Jamie wasn’t going to disappear on you again, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere either. Richmond was your dream home now, and the fact that your person lived here too was the best kind of bonus.

A/N: THERE IT ISSSS CANT WAIT TO HEAR EVERYONE’S REACTIONS! ALSO, was anyone else bummed we didn’t see the team’s reaction to Ted leaving in the show when they first heard? i’ve had the scene in my head as the ted reveal since i thought of this story between season 3 even came out because i knew they’d take ted away from us and i was shook we didn’t get a reveal. i get why and part of me appreciates them not focusing on the sad, but i really took away from my story haha

Taglist: @atabigail @escapismqueen @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @shephard17895 @lil-tracys @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster @geek-and-proud @grippleback-galaxy @lalla-04p @gabbycoady13 @royalestrellas @qardasngan @creationcitystreet-em @percysaidnever @emily-b @mrfitzsimmons @k-n-e @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25 @sokkigarden @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @dollfaceyourfear @dicgohargreeves @heyitz-julia @vampirodelascajas @grxcesmind @lizziel1410 @a-sweet-little-fangirl @bcon24 @looooooooomis @queen-of-dumbasses @moseyluvs @alipap3 @amachira @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @daphneblakeswife @chelseamount @k0z3me @lickitandsendit3 @miakat9 @shimmeringfrenchie @meg-ro @selmasemlan @hellfire-babez @rockchickrebel @katdahlali @taytaylala12 @lemonpiegurll @pri00r @brianandthemays @afraidofshrimp @curlypeter @sonyume @rexorangecouny @thewildestwonderland @duvetsandpillows @cyphah @buckybarnex @eviemae263782 @piper570 @ibong-adarnaaa @spookysins @optimisticsandwichgladiator @marveltg365 @ringpopdust @gcidrvsh @beardsplitter @scaramou it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #distractions series

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starsxblazing · 3 months

Text

Cause and Effect (Part 3)

a/n: please excuse any proof reading mistakes because my brain is still mush after working my 40 hours this week. I was too excited to post the next chapter simply for all of your amazing responses!

You huffed in annoyance from your lack of sleep just as the sun was beginning to rise in the sky. Sleep had evaded you for the majority of the night because you just hadn’t been able to calm your mind. The happiness and excitement that you had felt just for having someone pay you some attention made you feel horrible about yourself, like you were no better than a toddler. It didn’t seem to bother the male that you had found such a sense of peace with just by being in his presence for just a few minutes.

Hope surged through you at the thought of him and found yourself praying to whatever the Fae believed in that you would see him again today. You dug through the clothes that you had been given but you didn’t have the energy to put much thought into anything. A grumble of your stomach had you completely abandoning the idea.

“Good morning,” you mumbled sleepily, still in your pajamas, when you entered the dining room with the male from the day before and Mor sitting at the table.

“Good morning,” Mor replied with a small smile. “We weren’t expecting you to be up so early.”

“I do rise early sometimes,” you chuckled as you took a seat beside her with the male sitting across from you. “But everything.. It’s hard to sleep now.”

“That’s completely understandable.” Mor rubbed your arm for a moment in a comforting manner. “We’re glad that you are out here with us.”

You gave her a small but sad smile, unsure of what to say. It was obvious that none of them knew about you and even though it hurt, you did your best not to show it. Feyre had mentioned in a conversation that you accidentally overheard that the food here was delicious and now that you had a taste, you weren’t sure if you could ever go back to normal human food. The thought had you returning to the day that you had been forced into the cauldron and realized that you didn’t know anyone’s name and most importantly, how they all were doing after injuries.

“You were hurt.” You locked eyes with the hazel ones across from you. “And your friend-”

“We’re alright,” he assured, causing you to slump in relief into your seat. “Cassian’s wings are healing as we speak.”

“I’m so glad.” You gave him a gentle smile before gazing at his wings momentarily. “I can’t imagine how much pain that you were in. I feel horrible that I didn’t even think to ask you last night.”

“It’s okay.” He gave you another genuine, small smile that earned a near silent gasp from the female beside her. “You have been through more than any of us can imagine.”

“I don’t even know your names,” you mumbled, choosing to ignore his reassurance since you were trying to avoid the thoughts of your own.

“You’ve met Mor.” He gestured towards the female beside you who simply rolled her eyes. “Cassian, as I said, was the one that was injured as well and Rhysand is our High Lord of the Night Court.”

“Oh.” It was hard to keep your mind from the horrible memories, the thoughts making your heart hurt even more now that you knew their names. “Have you heard from Feyre?”

“She will be alright and will be back as soon as she can,” Mor answered confidently.

Your sister had obviously thrived since she had become High Fae and you couldn’t help but wonder if you or your other sisters would be able to do it as well even though you didn’t have much of a choice. A part of you wanted to adjust but at the same time, you were terrified of the life that you had been unwillingly shoved into. You were at least trying to be friendly even though Elain still refused to speak and Nesta was being her usual angry self.

You weren’t sure how to feel with everything that was going on around you but your mind began to drift back to your human life. Your favorite holiday would be arriving in a few months and you hoped that it would be something that would be accepted for the first time. Remembering that you didn’t know the male’s name, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you stingy with your name?”

“No,” he chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m Azriel.”

“Azriel,” you repeated, finding that you liked how it rolled so simply off of your tongue.

He seemed to like it as well due to the smile tugging at his lips but you chose to ignore it, opting to eat what you could. You could feel his gaze on you and noticed it for yourself when you glanced at him from your peripheral as Mor began to tell you what Velaris had to offer.

“It sounds beautiful,” you sighed in awe.

“I could take you.” Your eyes met Azriel’s, noting that his expression was neutral even though you felt like he deeply wanted you to agree. “The city is meant to be seen at night.”

“I would expect nothing less from The City of Starlight,” you laughed, noting an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

You listened to stories pour from Mor and your emotions turned over in a constant loop, wondering if you would fit into this tight knit family. It was something that you had never had and so desperately wanted. You hoped that now that you and your sisters were all together that the family dynamic might change, hoped that you would finally become important. Deciding to try to interact with your sisters, you gave them a small smile and a nod before going to find them.

Just as you expected, Elain was still staring blankly out of the window with Nesta in a chair in the room and reading a book. Your oldest sister’s flat stare fell on you and although you felt uncomfortable, you held your ground and held onto hope.

“How are you both doing?” you asked quietly, eyes darting between them both.

“How does it look?” she snapped, her ever snarky tone lacing through each word.

“All of this is so hard and I want to try to help you if you would let me,” you offered, gripping your intentions with a steel grip so that you didn’t back away.

“Why don’t you go back to the male that you decided to prefer your company with?”

“Then why did you even bother to make him leave me alone!?” you exclaimed as your pain began to overwhelm you.

“Go. Away,” Nesta growled.

It took all of your self control to hold back your tears as you darted back towards your room. Loneliness, which was a feeling that you were well acquainted with, overtook all of your senses. Even though you were used to it, it hurt even worse with the circumstances that you were now in. It felt as if it was impossible to sort through without your own family's help. You could only hold onto hope that you may have found real friends with Mor and Azriel.

You stayed in your room for the rest of the day, not bothering to leave for lunch or dinner. A knock had sounded on your door after each missed meal that followed with Mor’s muffled but concerned voice sounding through the wood. You had jumped up from your bed whenever the sun began to set, remembering that you had a late afternoon with Azriel planned. It made some excitement return because you truly did love his company.

Mor was at your door once again while you were staring at your new wardrobe as if she already knew of your struggle. She laughed at your confused expression and joined you to look at the variety of the obviously expensive dresses. It was more than welcome and you decided to let her make the choice for you since you knew next to nothing about dressing up.

“This is so hard,” you whined but fell quiet at the gorgeous blue dress that she pulled out.

“What about this one?” she asked, a knowing twinkle in her eye that you didn’t understand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything so nice in my life.” You stared at it in awe and the female seemed pleased. “I love it.”

“I thought that you would.” Mor gave you a brilliant smile before directing you to the vanity. “Now let’s get something done with this beautiful hair.”

A blush rose to your cheeks at the compliment since you hadn’t received very many. You watched her work, noting every small movement that she did so that you would be able to do it for yourself at some point. The loose curls that ended up forming was something that made you feel brand new. Your eyes burned from the tears that wanted to form at the sight of yourself once you were fully dressed and staring at yourself in the mirror.

It was the prettiest that you had ever felt in your entire life and you finally felt as if you actually meant something, even if it was only a fleeting moment. You took a deep breath before you rounded the corner where Azriel was waiting in an attempt to keep your newfound confidence.

His face instantly softened when he saw you and you could feel Mor’s eyes on you from behind you. Heat rose to your cheeks once more, unaccustomed to having a male look at you in a way that didn’t mean that he only wanted to sleep with you. He guided you to the balcony, his hand barely brushing against your lower back.

“The House is warded against winnowing so we will have to fly,” he started gently, watching you with nearly invisible caution. “There is always the option of the ten thousand steps to the city but that would ruin your beautiful dress.”

“I’ve never flown before.” It was hard to speak and keep the shock from the simple compliment from your tone before eyeing his wings. “It sounds scary.”

“I promise not to drop you,” he chuckled, the noise almost inaudible.

You nodded despite your fear and focused on your excitement for the night.

Tag List:

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover @cleverzonkwombatsludge @alessiazeni @rhenysz @ladespedidas @meritxellao @candyjaypoppins @carnationworld @mulansaucey @why4anne @tsibba01 @sassyangel16 @aetherl0l @wallacewillow0773638 @cherryinsalemverse @lupinswolfsbanes @amysangel @ayme301 @sassyslytherinshai @zeroangelo13 @sirens-and-moonflowers @evye47 @starcrossedsan @impossibelle @landofpetrichor @tuggboatfishin @dr4g0ngirl @one-big-fangirl @mistyheart @ang-taylorsversion @youngblood199456 @anuttellaa @thestartitaness @fxckmiup @glitterypirateduck @mika-no-sekai-blog @oucereeng @mariahoedt @sleepylunarwolf

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel

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ladykailitha · 23 days

Text

Everything I Ever Wanted Part 1/4

The much anticipated sequel for "Not All That Glitters is Gold" the omegaverse epic that I recently wrapped up. The first chapter is here as I highly recommend you read it first.

Each chapter is based on something Steve wanted from the first story. Being a top omega escort and retiring at the top of his game. Having alpha health be brought to the forefront and actually studied. Being married and bonded. And finally having children of his own.

Just a few notes here: This not to say that surrogacy or adopt is lesser or not as important as biological birth. Because it absolutely isn't. This is about Steve being told he was only good for one thing and to learn his worth was far greater than anyone imagined.

This story is mature. There are sex scenes in here as well as full nudity, but also the first chapter has some awful pretty non-binary and sex worker prejudices that if you feel like you can't handle, don't read.

Each chapter is however long it took me to fill out that part. So some chapters are shorter than others, some times by almost 1000 words.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first one!

****

Steve had finished packing up the last of his stuff. Chrissy would be moving in next week and fill the suite with everything that made her unique.

But as sad as Steve was to be leaving, he knew it was time. Twelve years as one of the best escorts Starcourt had ever seen was long enough, he thought.

A warm pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a wet kiss was placed on his bonding gland.

“Hey, honey,” Eddie cooed. “You ready to go?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s arms and sighed happily. “Yeah, love, I am.”

“You going to miss this?” he murmured, squeezing Steve tightly.

Steve hummed, thinking about it. “To some extent, but doing this well into my fifties and sixties was never in the cards for me.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “I was always too much of a romantic for that. When I first learned I was infertile it was a relief that I didn’t have to live to my parents’ high expectations for me. I had looked up to Roxie because they were living the life young me always wanted, freedom as an omega.”

“I’m glad you got that freedom, sweetheart,” Eddie said softly. “You really grew into your own. If you want to keep working for another couple of years, you’ve got it. I won’t stop you.”

Steve turned in his grasped and kissed him soundly. “No, Eds. This is what I want. I want a life with you. I want to bond and mate you. I want to carry your pups. As many as you want. Because if I was given the choice as a sixteen year old to have that freedom I always craved and the chance to marry and bare children? I would have taken it in a heartbeat. But when they thought I was infertile, the glamour of being an escort was the only choice for me.”

Eddie nuzzled Steve’s scent gland. “Okay, Stevie.” He nipped under Steve’s jaw. “Fuck, you are so hot when you get all passionate about shit. I could have you right here, right now on this floor if you’d let me.”

Steve slipped out of his embrace with a giggle. “As tempting as that would be, darling, the movers will be here in ten minutes and the cleaners in thirty. And I’m not as fast as I used to be.”

Eddie huffed impatiently.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Eddie and Steve shared a confused glance.

Steve walked to the door and opened it.

He stood there in shock for a moment. There on the side of the door frame was Roxie. Steve’s idol.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Come on in. You’ll pardon the mess, I’m moving out today.”

Roxie stepped in.

They were as beautiful in person as they had been on the poster on Steve’s wall as a teenager.

They were tall and thin, with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. No one was sure what race Roxie was because they had an exotic look no matter where they go.

Roxie was also the first non-binary omega escort the world had ever seen.

In short Steve was enamored.

Eddie gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m going to meet the movers.”

He kissed Steve’s cheek and slipped out of the door that Roxie had just walked through.

“He’s cute,” Roxie said with a smile.

Steve blushed. “I like him.”

Roxie threw back their head and laughed. “I would hope so considering you’re bonding next month.”

Steve cocked his head and grinned. “Yeah...”

Roxie held up their prizes, two champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne. “I’ve come to celebrate!”

Steve took the glasses and wandered over to the sofa. It hadn’t been moved yet, so they at least had a place to sit.

Roxie produced a bottle opener from the confines of their coat pocket and opened the champagne. Steve held out the two glasses and Roxie poured the bubbling liquid.

“Come, come,” they said. “Sit. Tell me all about the hottie that just left.”

So Steve did.

“I’m happy for you,” Roxie said. “It took me years to find my soulmate.”

Steve blinked. “Are you–no...really?”

“A golden omega? Oh yes. Really,” Roxie said with a laugh. “I just didn’t meet my bondmate until I was much older, and we never wanted children so we bonded and just never share my heats.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” Steve asked. “Spending your heats without your bondmate?”

Roxie shook their head. “No. We still share his ruts and we use as much protection as we can. But, no. I’ve gotten used to having my heats alone, adding another person would just be complicating things at this point.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Steve said with a nod. “I guess I’m young enough to miss the connection that he and I share during his ruts when I have my heats.”

Roxie smiled. “I hear you had to jump through a few hoops to bond.”

Steve sighed heavily and took a long drink, nearly draining the glass. “It was a mess. I would be the first official golden omega to retire from active escorting and that was something they wanted to carefully curate. They didn’t want a scandal like what the church had last year when Chrissy broke open the illegal nature of the amount of omegas they took in.”

“That was a nightmare,” Roxie agreed. “I was shocked by it all.”

“I’m just grateful that I’ll have a few months to prepare for the fallout before the shit hits the fan,” Steve said. “After all it won’t come out until Eddie and I get pregnant.”

Roxie hummed their agreement.

“If you’re really lucky,” they said, “maybe a year or more.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “That’s what Eddie’s hoping for, but I’m fine with either, honestly. My two biggest dreams growing up were having pups and being an escort, how that would have worked out biologically, I had no idea, I was just dumb kid. But actually getting both feels like a miracle.”

Roxie smiled, their eyes crinkling. “I’m almost sad you’re a golden omega, because I really thought you would be the one to take my place as top earner when I retired next year.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. “Wait, really?” He couldn’t believe it. Roxie retire? That was unfathomable. Oh and the other thing, too.

Roxie must of read his mind because they laughed. “Yes, I’m retiring. I turn sixty-five next year, and I really can’t see myself doing it for much longer. And as for you, yes, darling. You. You are the best escort this industry has ever seen and you have the receipts to prove it.”

“They do want me to come back and teach the next batch of incoming escorts,” Steve said with a sigh smile. “From the ages of sixteen to eighteen, I’ll be teaching them everything I learned to make them better. And that’s more important than any glamour or glitz being an escort could possibly give me.”

“Then the agency is in better hands than I thought!” Roxie cried, gleefully clapping their hands together.

Steve smiled and shook his head. “You know, it’s funny. The only reason my dad even allowed me to be an escort was because there had never been a Harrington omega who wasn’t a trophy wife. They never worked a day in their lives. So when I offered to become a wet nurse to save up money to become a teacher, he blanched and said that I was going to be an escort. At least I could make money for them that way.”

He poured himself another glass and filled Roxie’s when they put out their own too.

“Well,” Roxie said smiling over their glass, “as long as you don’t start work until after you’ve bonded Eddie, that could still be true about the whole ‘no Harrington ever being a teacher’ thing.”

Steve laughed, his eyes squeezed tight, mouth open wide and just laughing with his whole chest. “Here’s to that!”

They clinked their glasses together. They talked for a little while longer, but soon Roxie had left and the movers and the cleaners filed in.

“These knothead movers,” Eddie said darkly, “were trying to duck out of doing the job because you were celebrating still.”

The older of the alpha moving team glared at him. “How was I to know that Roxie was in there?”

“From believing me when I told you?” Eddie asked, waving his arms out in front of him.

“He is so gorgeous,” one of the omega cleaners twittered.

“They,” Steve said with a frown. “Roxie uses they/them. Unless you're talking about someone else.”

The cleaner rolled her eyes. “He was a him for decades and then decides to come out non-binary? Whatever.”

“Out!” Steve said, barely containing his rage. “I will put in complaints with your bosses and management will get in new teams if they know what’s good for them.”

Eddie grinned. “You’ve got it, babe.”

Everyone filed out, the other omega cleaners hissing and snarling their dismissal at the other girl. The movers got what they wanted so they didn’t care.

As the lead mover was passing by Steve, he muttered, “Slut.”

The alpha was on the ground trapped in an arm bar, Eddie’s knee in the middle of his back.

The alpha cried out in surprise and pain. “What the fuck?!”

“That’s my omega you just insulted,” Eddie snarled, his alpha fangs extending. “And I don’t take kindly to that sort of thing. I will make sure that your company never gets a single celebrity client ever again. Steve will make sure Starcourt never uses you again, nor any other escort agency.” He yanked on the man’s arm causing him to gasp in pain. “Now I’m going to let you up, nice and slow and then you are going to apologize to Steve. Understand?”

The man nodded and Eddie got up. After a moment the alpha mover got to his feet.

“I’m waiting,” Steve huffed. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning on his back leg.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut,” the man groused, rubbing the arm Eddie had yanked.

“Just because my work is different from yours doesn’t mean it’s not work,” Steve hissed. He waved his hand. “Now get out of my sight.”

The man followed his team out and Eddie slammed the door behind them.

“I’ve already contacted Powell,” Steve said. “They’ve already blacklisted both companies and have new crews being sent over.”

“Do we need to be here when they come?” Eddie asked.

Steve shook his head. “I was just cutting it fine getting the last of my stuff being packed away.”

Eddie grinned and pulled Steve in for a kiss. “Then why don’t you and I get out of here and celebrate a little bit on our own?”

“That sounds good,” Steve said, throwing his arms around Eddie’s neck. “Because that little display of yours taking down that mover was super hot.”

Eddie drew Steve in closer so they were flush against each other. “Yeah?”

Steve bit his bottom lip and nodded.

“Did my pretty little omega get wet watching his alpha take down a disgusting pig?” Eddie teased, cupping Steve’s ass with both hands.

“So wet,” Steve breathed. “Almost as wet as our first meeting, rockstar.”

Eddie licked his lips slowly and then nodded.

“Your stuff is already at my place,” he growled. “So I’m going to take you back there and fuck you into the mattress. Sound good, baby?”

Steve kissed him deeply. “Sounds so good.”

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee

@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt

@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson

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bless-my-demons · 1 year

Text

Redamancy: Prologue

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None for this chapter [this also isn’t beta’d so bear with me]

Notes: it took me so long to work up the courage to actually post my first work, so enjoy! I’ll be over here anxiously awaiting your thoughts.

Word Count: 705

Series Masterlist

A clear horizon. An orange sunset fading into vivid pinks and purples as the atmosphere darkens in preparation for the night. Evening sun warming your face, the space around you drifting into silence as calm settles into your bones, time halting its ever constant forward march, no thoughts or worries.

That’s what it felt like, the moment my eyes met Jasper Hale’s. Like I was done searching for what my heart was in need of as soon as I glanced into those golden pools of his.

• January 24th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

Based on the non-stop gossip floating around this microscopic high school, I’m the newest kid on the block. Dethroning the most recent to wear the title, Bella Swan, the Police Chief’s daughter.

Now, I’m not opposed to the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State, but Forks could strive to be a little more than a one-stoplight town and add a few more amenities. This big city Texas girl needs a little more than Forks Outfitters - the one stop shop for food, basic clothing, and hardware.

I left Dallas because my mom needed me here, my dad didn’t want to trade sunshine and big ranches for rain and freezing temperatures. They’re happily divorced, but I can tell that over time it’s worn her down. I’m just a junior in high school, but I guess she and I can navigate this together.

God, let there be cute boys at this high school, I’m begging you.

I was almost immediately accosted by what I deemed the welcoming committee the moment I locked the door to my car and began the dreaded ‘new kid’ trek to the front office of Forks High School. Stares came from anyone loitering in the parking lot before class while this overly-excited kid, who introduced himself as Eric Yorkie, began what had to be a well rehearsed ‘anything you need’ spiel.

All hopes of flying under the radar halfway through junior year vanished into thin air and I hadn’t even made it to the sidewalk yet.

“Eric? I really appreciate your help and concern, but I was hoping to kinda just glide in on my first day and blend in.” I said as we walked together through the wet parking lot, dodging the bigger puddles so I wouldn't soak my shoes before I got to my first class of the day.

“Oh that’s pretty much impossible here, newcomers are always the only thing everyone talks about. Don’t be scared to hit me up with questions later though, good luck!” Shouting that last part as he dashed off to class, turning the heads of a few close students.

A deep sigh passed my lips as I trudged on, pulling open the heavy door to the administration office. It’s nice to have someone offer help on my first day, I just wish this town was big enough so that I could get lost on everyone’s list of priorities to gossip about or stare at.

Today is going to be a long day.

“Good morning dear!” A sweet older woman announced from behind the central desk in the front office. The name plate in front of her reading ‘Administrative Secretary Shelly Cope’.

“Good morning Miss Cope. I’m Y/n Y/l/n, here to pick up my class schedule and hopefully a map of the place?” I said, cutting to the chase. The front office is a giant fish bowl to the students walking by outside, no one wants to spend more time than necessary here on their first day.

“Oh yes! I’ve got it all printed out and ready to go for ya dear, along with your locker assignment.” She says with a smile, passing the papers across her desk. “Let me know if you have any questions or if you need help with anything!”

“Yes ma’am, thank you!” I responded, half reading my new schedule - half aware of where I was going as I press a shoulder to the exit.

First period Biology

Second period English

Third period Spanish

Fourth period Trigonom-

The front office door smacks straight into an unsuspecting, gorgeous, golden-eyed fellow student, sending the papers clutched in my hands to the ground.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale fanfiction #twilight #twilight fanfiction #reader insert #slow burn #bless-my-demons #redamancy series

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dudeitiskarev · 9 days

Text

Maybe Someday | Ch. 4

A Spencer Reid mini-series

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Chapter summary: Spencer swore he wasn’t going to track you down again, but you still end up right in front of him.

Word count: 6k

Tags/warnings: reader and Spencer get mugged; panic attacks; probably inaccurate case talk.

Author’s note: I decided to merge two chapters id planned together so the whole thing reads better so I hope you don’t mind a longer chapter!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The scent of freshly ground coffee put an instant smile on Spencer’s face; it grew wider when he met a familiar pair of gorgeous eyes behind the counter at one of his favorite coffee shops in town.

“Spencer,” you greeted bright-eyed.

You seemed so different. So at peace. So… beautiful.

“Hey,” he responded. “It’s so good to see you. Wha-What are you doing here?”

The last time he saw you was at the clinic—almost a year ago—so it wasn’t a rude question to ask.

“I work here.” You smoothed down your apron with pride.

“I haven’t seen you here before?” He gave you a lopsided smile through a small laugh.

“That’s because I got hired today.”

“Oh.” He eagerly nodded. “You moved from Vegas?”

“Yeah, last week. I–” You were cut off by a serious voice calling your name from the back office— your manager, most likely. “Sorry, I probably should take your order first.” You shook your head.

He asked for the usual: black coffee with a chocolate sprinkled donut and gave it a small bite right away

“Every time I swear this is my last one but they’re just so tasty,” he said after barely swallowing.

Your fingertips brushed his ever so slightly as you handed him his coffee. A casual touch he didn’t know he’d been craving since you two said goodbye at the clinic. His heart grew warm and lost its nature, increasing the number of beats per minute considerably.

There hasn’t been a day you didn’t cross his mind after you two said goodbye, and he tried multiple times to find you again asking Garcia for help, but it seemed as if you’d vanished into thin air. He wanted to try harder, go to Vegas again and track you down but Morgan’s wise words talked him out of it: you can either find her and suffocate her, or let her go and let her find you—because Morgan was sure you’d do that eventually.

Suffocation was cruel, and now there you were. You’d shown up right in front of him again like a divine being.

“So, I’ll see you around?” You bit the inside of your bottom lip.

“Y-yeah.” Spencer’s brows knitted together while he smiled at you, nodding. “I come here almost every week, so definitely.”

“Great.” You huffed out a nervous laugh.

Spencer looked over his shoulder. There was a line of four people behind him already, so he stepped aside and waved goodbye, leaving the place with a weird feeling—a good one.

He lingered outside the café for a moment—away from your sight—hoping you’d come out and find him.

Don’t suffocate her, he thought as his feet moved again. He continued his walk to the FBI headquarters and just a few steps in, you yelled his name.

He turned around. You were jogging towards him.

“Did something happen?” he asked. “Did I forget something?”

“No,” you panted, stopping three feet away. “I just needed you to know… you saved my life by showing up that night.”

“Oh.” The corner of his mouth tugged and his eyes darted from your fidgeting hands up to your eyes. He didn’t know what else to say. He just stood there, staring at you in case this was the last time he saw you again.

If you slipped away again.

“And I’m very grateful,” you managed to add. “You are a good person, Spencer.”

“Of course, I… It was the right thing to do.”

“But you didn’t have to and… you did. And that… truly saved my life.” You brought one hand to your chest and stared at him for a moment. It was easy to tell your mind was racing. He knew the feeling. He wanted to hold you, but he didn’t act on it. Suffocate her or let her go. “So, yeah, I- I should get back now if I don’t want to get fired on my first day.” You laughed.

Spencer gulped and took a sharp breath, snapping himself out of his mind. “Yeah, go, go.”

“You have the same number right?” you asked as you took steps backwards.

“I— I do, yeah.”

Of course, he did. He’d been waiting for your phone call for ten months and twenty seven days. (His phone got crushed by a car during a pursuit not long ago and he saved the SIM card like it was gold).

“‘Kay. I’ll call you. Or text you. So we can catch up, or hang out. I really need friends here so-”

“Same number.” He gave you a thumbs-up.

You waved him goodbye and gave him a sweet, timid smile before running inside the café.

Minutes later, his phone buzzed.

Unknown number: Hey :) I hope you enjoy your donut.

You didn’t call or text that day and your silence made him uneasy.

The BAU got a case that very same morning, and he checked his phone every chance he got waiting for any sign from you.

“Waiting for a call, pretty boy?” Derek approached him with a teasing grin.

“Y-yeah, Garcia should’ve sent us a lead by now,” Spencer played it cool, writing some more information about the most recent victim on the whiteboard.

“That’s not what you’re waiting for.” Morgan raised one brow. “Come on, you can tell me. Something’s been up since yesterday.”

Spencer put down the marker. He wanted to hear Morgan’s wise words, so he said your name, and it melted right into a smile.

Derek repeated your name as if you were a close friend. “I remember her,” he added.

“I thought I’d lost her again after I left Vegas.”

“I know, you were pretty bummed for a while.”

Spencer licked his lips. “But yesterday I ran into her.”

Morgan smiled with a Told-you-so look.

“There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about her. And when I saw her I felt… something I haven’t felt before.”

“You like her.”

“I mean yeah, of course I do. But it’s more than that. I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

“Sounds like love to me.” Morgan shrugged.

Spencer turned his lips downward. “I don’t think so. I barely even know her.”

“So? Love doesn’t make sense most times.”

“It’s not like that,” Spencer insisted. It wasn’t something ordinary or as simple as cutting it all down to love (not that he thought love was simple). Plus, he wasn’t even sure there was that kind of attraction. “What would Derek Morgan do?” Spencer asked with a bit of humor.

“Now that’s a good question.” Morgan leaned on the table and raised his brows. “I’d call her. Check on her. Let her know I’m thinking about her. After she picks up and tells you every detail about her day, you text her how much you liked talking to her. She’ll do the rest.”

“I’m not trying to… hit on her, Morgan. I want to let her know she’s not alone. That she has someone. Like you said, I don’t want to… suffocate her. I don’t want her to disappear again.”

“You won’t. She already found her way back to you.”

An entire day went by and he couldn’t find the appropriate time to reach out to you, knowing well he could be interrupted any minute.

So he waited until the case was over and the jet touched ground in Quantico—three days later.

He dialed your number as soon as he walked through the airport doors and you picked up after the third ring.

“Spencer.”

Your voice sparked some butterflies. The nice kind of butterflies.

“H-hi, how are you?” He smiled.

“I’ve been good. Sorry, again. I didn’t call or text as I said I would.” He could hear you wincing at yourself. He didn’t mind. He was glad you simply answered. “Are you in town?”

“I am.”

“Are you busy? I’m off work in twenty minutes, maybe we can—”

“Yeah! Yeah, I can pick you up, if that’s okay,” he answered way too fast, but he was eager to see you and he didn’t bother to hide it.

“It’s perfect.” A smile through those words was clear. “I’ll be waiting.”

He wasted no time and took a cab right outside, giving the driver the address of his favorite café. It had just stopped raining and the evening was painted in a wintery shade of orange. The Christmas lights were everywhere now, and the closer he got to you, the prettier everything seemed to be.

The ride ended rather quickly and the driver was already outside the café.

You were waiting inside.

He couldn’t help but think about what Derek said as you two made your way to each other—about whatever he felt for you as love. It could be a type of love, but not necessarily the romantic kind.

“What’s with the bag?” was the first thing you said as you two stopped in front of each other.

“Oh, I just came back from a case.” He looked at his bag. He’d forgotten he had it.

“Why didn’t you go home first?” You sort of laughed, taking another step closer. “We could’ve met a bit later.”

“I really wanted to see you,” he merely said.

“Oh.” You pressed your lips together. “Well, this is for you.” You handed him a paper bag with the café logo on the outside.

“Oh, you’re so nice.”

“It’s just a chocolate sprinkled donut. I assume those are your favorites.”

“They are. I really like glazed donuts, too.”

“I’ll get you one of those next time”

Next time.

“So, how are you adapting to Quantico?” he asked as you started wandering.

“Honestly, it’s going great. The fact that I found a job so soon is awesome. I, uh, I’m just renting a room for now, though. I live with this seventy-year-old lady—Inez—and her puppy. They are way too nice to me. It’s like I’ve known her for so long.”

You seemed nervous, pulling down the sleeves of your denim jacket and he didn’t want to invade you with all the questions he’d had for the past ten months.

So he asked the one that he wanted to know the most, “May I ask why Quantico?”

“I, uh, it’s gonna sound like a confession.” You glanced up at him for half a second. “But I’d never felt so safe and so taken care of until you found me. After the clinic, I looked you up. Your card said you worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit?” you searched his eyes again for approval to which he nodded. “And I guess I needed to go somewhere I felt safe. Even if I didn’t see you again, I knew you’d be around.”

His heart dropped. So you did come to find him. “Why didn’t you just call?” He had to ask.

You exhaled a sharp breath. “Because I’m stubborn, or so I’ve been told. But I really wanted to see you again so I decided to move somewhere close to you and hope for this.” You gestured between you and him. “Bump into each other.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause before you said, laughing, “I now realize I must sound like a creep.”

You leaned on him while you laughed, almost hiding your face on his arm. A simple but intimate gesture. He couldn’t help but stiffen and sigh deeply all at once.

“It’s not creepy at all.”

If anything, he was flattered.

The walk turned silent for a few steps until he decided to stop for some hot chocolate. It was getting colder with every minute and he noticed your clothes weren’t made for this kind of weather.

“I have a spare sweater you can wear under your jacket,” he commented, handing you the hot drink.

“Your sweater and this hot chocolate would make it the perfect night.”

You accepted his kindness and held his cup as he searched inside his bag. He handed you the one he liked the most, and it suited you even better that it did on him.

“Thank you. Is it cashmere?” You asked, caressing the fabric with delicate strokes.

“Yeah, I have a scarf too if you get colder.”

A park was a block away and soon, you were sitting at a bench in front of an ice skating rink—the one Garcia had invited him to last weekend but he declined because he didn’t want to look like a newborn deer learning how to walk. He would do it now if you asked him, though.

“I wish I’d stayed with you longer,” Spencer commented, giving half of his donut a small bite. He’d given you the other half.

“When?” You looked up at him.

“At the clinic.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.” You shook your head. “I would’ve disappeared somehow. But I’m starting over now. I’m leaving that ungrateful bitch in the past.”

There were a few families and couples at the rink, some of them struggling to stay standing and others that acted like professionals. Spencer thought it was a nice calming sight for you. Your eyes were shining with the Christmas lights.

“Is Quantico in the picture of your fresh start, then?” Spencer asked.

“For a while, yeah.” You held your hot chocolate with both hands and casually scooted closer to him, searching for some warmth. “I like my job so far. I’ve never been smart enough to study anything but college is not totally out of the question, I guess.”

“If I remember correctly you won a short story contest at school.” He raised his brows. The memory came to him as he said it. “You could try some creative writing.”

It was a vague memory, but he was sure about it. It was a story about an ant named Lori who wanted to be an astronaut.

“I– oh wow.” You looked at him with a funny frown. “You just unlocked a memory. How the hell do you remember that?” You laughed, a blissful sound between amusement and confusion.

“I have an eidetic memory,” he said, as he usually did.

“I’m not sure I know what eidetic means.” You laughed embarrassed, hiding your face against his arm again. And he sighed deeply, again. “Like photographic memory?”

“Sort of, yeah. I just have a really good memory.” He chuckled along.

“Is that a blessing or a curse?” You looked up at him.

“It can be both,” he admitted.

The moon hung low and thin over the snow-covered hills and the first few people at the ice rink were leaving. The temperature dropped a few more degrees, which meant it was time to go, too.

“Is it okay if I walk you home?” He asked as you both stood up.

“I’d love that.” Your face lit up. “I take the subway on the next block.” You gestured to a dark alley.

Normally, Spencer would’ve avoided it, but you seemed confident to keep walking so he followed your lead.

And he wished he’d suggested taking another path.

A third person’s footsteps joined you from behind and before he could turn around to glance at them, they were yanking your purse.

“Spencer!” You yelled.

“Hey! Don’t touch her!” Spencer’s voice got higher in the attempt to fight the guy.

A failed armlock got him punched in the brow, but at least he managed to get your purse back.

“Son of a—!” Spencer yelled.

The guy spat a low fuck you, little bitch and ran without trying anything else.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You hurried to check on Spencer.

“I’m fine.” He touched his brow and winced. It was getting swollen already. “Did you see him?! That was a child!”

Your response wasn’t what he expected. You laughed. Small at first but it soon turned into laughter.

All he could do was laugh along.

“I’m sorry I promise I’m not mocking you. I’m just a nervous laugher,” you said between more laughs. “And that made me really nervous.”

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He knew it wasn’t a positive kind of laugh, but seeing you laugh like this made the situation not so bad. And like you said, you weren’t mocking him.

“My house is only three stations away.” You ceased to laugh a bit. “Let me clean that.”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal,” he underplayed it. It could’ve ended up so poorly if the kid had had a gun or knife.

“C’mon.” You hooked your arm around his elbow and kept on walking.

You made it to the station at a fast pace and you held onto him the entire time. It didn’t bother him. At all.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You let go of his arm and stood in front of him while you waited for the train. “That came out of nowhere.”

You lifted your hand and gently touched his swollen brow with your fingertips.

“It hurts, but sadly I’ve received worse, so it’s not that bad.”

The roaring of the train coming made you both stand behind the yellow line, and your arm seemed to have found its place in Spencer’s already as you looped them together again.

You both squeezed yourself inside the train car that stopped right in front of you and held onto the same pole, face to face.

“I feel a lot of stares,” Spencer muttered, subtly looking around.

“Well, yeah, you have a black eye now,” You said. You riffled through your purse and got out a mp4 with wired earplugs. “Here.” You handed him one and pressed play.

He recognized the first melodies. A song he’d heard before on the radio most likely. You tapped the first beats on the pole with your fingers, smiling up at him.

Then, the lyrics started and everything it said turned into a memory.

My name is Luka

I live on the second floor

I live upstairs from you

Yes I think you’ve seen me before

(A loud thud came from the floor above Spencer’s room. The neighbors again. They always yelled and interrupted his reading.

He paid special attention and the girl he didn’t know—but still cared about—screamed as if she were in pain.

Spencer put his book down and dragged his little steps to the kitchen where his mom was drinking her afternoon coffee.

“Mom?”

She turned her head to him. “What is it, Spencer?”

“I think the girl is in trouble again.”

Diana clicked her tongue with concern and looked up at the ceiling. The noise wasn’t too loud in the kitchen. “There’s not much we can do. Remember the last time we called the police?” Spencer nodded. It had worsened everything. “Come here.” She signaled for him to sit on her lap. “Help me with this crossword.”)

The doors of the train opened, bringing a new wave of people inside that snapped Spencer back to the present. You scooted closer to him to avoid people pushing you and nestled on his side. He glanced at you and the soft features of the little girl who lived upstairs were still there.

“When we were neighbors,” he began. “You didn’t live five houses away. We lived in the same building.”

You looked up at him and your pupils dilated as if you were having the same memories.

“Oh, yeah,” you managed to say. “For a while, I think? Then we moved again to another house.” Which must’ve been the one five houses away. “I remember your mom. You used to hide behind her legs all the time.” You then smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You didn’t have anyone to hide behind.

You looked away and kept tapping your fingers on the pole as the music kept going during the three stations left.

“We’re here.” You put your MP4 away before stepping out of the subway and looped your arm with his as you’d already gotten used to. “I live just around the corner.”

It was a modest home with a nice little dog by the door welcoming you.

“Hi, Murph!” you greeted him as he jumped all over you. “I missed you so much!” You picked Murph up and let him lick your face.

About 600 bacteria got transferred to your face right then, but it wasn’t much different from a human kiss. No disease if Murph had all of its vaccines up to date. Spencer could assume the dog had them all since its owner cared about him enough to put a little bow tie on his neck.

“Hey, angel.” A tiny old lady with short burgundy hair approached them. “Oh, who’s this handsome boy and what happened to him?” Her face drooped with concern.

“Inez, this is my friend Spencer. He got punched trying to defend me.” You pressed your lips together.

“Oh, no. It’s not even that late.” Inez glanced at the wall clock. “Let me bring you some peroxide and we’ll get you all cleaned up.”

“You’re so nice, thanks.” Spencer smiled sideways.

You took a sudden violent breath and brought your hand up to your chest. “I’m gonna go with Inez, uh—” You cleared your voice and swallowed thickly. “So you can clean… that.”

You didn’t move, though. You stood there, hand on your chest as you took another sharp deep breath this time with your eyes closed.

“You okay?” Spencer frowned.

“Y-yeah, I’m just—God, please not now.” You muttered, opening your eyes and looked up, talking to the god you’d mentioned.

Murph suddenly started whining and jumping and asking for pets from you.

“Hey.” Spencer took you by your arm gently and guided you to sit on the couch. Your legs shook as you sat down. “What do you feel?” He crouched in front of you.

“Like my heart is about to burst.” You reached for his hand. It was sweating cold. “Like I’m gonna die.”

You were having a panic attack.

He was quick to think and looked around and searched for anything that could help. “Do you have a lemon?”

“What’s happening!” Inez rushed back to the living room with every supply possible to clean up Spencer’s brow.

“Inez, do you have any lemon?”

“In the kitchen.” She gestured with her thumb. “Why?”

“Can you stay with her while I go to get one?”

“I’ll get it!” She rushed her short steps to the kitchen and was back with at least five.

Spencer grabbed your hand and made you wrap your palm around a lemon. “Bite it.”

“What?” Your voice barely came out. There were pools in your eyes already.

“Trust me. It’ll help, I promise. Just give it a big bite. Peel and everything.”

You doubted for a second but did it anyway. A big bite that made Spencer’s mouth water.

“That’s it, keep going. Chew it. Taste it until you start feeling better. It’ll shock your senses and pull them out of the panic.”

You struggled to chew and swallow the first bite but did it anyway and went for another bite right away.

“That’s it. Eat the whole thing if you need to,” Spencer kept talking, stroking your knee with his thumb.

You ate the second bite and opened your eyes. They were watery and your lips were flushed but there was a smile taking over them.

You let out a shaky breath. “It’s working.”

“It’s a grounding technique.” He smiled too. It never failed. “The bitterness distracts your brain from having the panic attack and focuses on the sensations happening in your mouth.”

“I’m gonna keep that basket stocked with lemons for you darling,” Inez said. “That worked like magic.”

“Or sour candies,” he added. “Anything sour will work.”

Inez walked to you and stroked your hair. “You just brought an angel to our home, sweetheart.”

You chuckled between another bite. “Yeah.”

“I’m gonna make her some tea.” Inez kissed the top of your head. “We usually let it pass on its own,” she told Spencer. “Poor thing, they happen at least once a month.”

“It’s been more often lately,” you added. “I used to have them when I was a teenager after my brother died. Then they went away with time but they came back a few months ago.”

There were many reasons he could tell you why they happened, but he figured you only needed his company this time.

“Why don’t you lie down?” He suggested as he sat at one end of the couch hoping you’d put your feet over his lap. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I think.” You nodded. “But… it’s still there. The feeling.” You put your palm over your chest. “The ghost of it. I feel like it might come back any minute.”

“I know.” He stroked your leg. He did know first hand what it felt like. “There are many techniques that can help you control it, even help you to never have them again.”

You looked at him weary-eyed. “Would you stay with me? In case it happens again?”

“Stay the night?” He gulped.

You nodded.

“Y-Yeah.” He shifted in his seat. “Is Inez okay with it?”

“She loves having people over.” You smiled tiredly.

“I should go ask her anyway.” He stood from the couch and gently put your feet down. He followed Inez’s voice to the kitchen and found her having a full conversation with Murph. “Is he a goldendoodle?” He asked.

“He is. The most handsome goldendoodle there is. Aren’t you, sweet boy?” She gave Murph a treat. “You’re staying, right?” She then asked Spencer. “It’s already so late and after what happened.” She crossed herself looking up at the ceiling.

He nodded as he responded, “If that’s okay with you?”

“Of course. There are new toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet. A bunch of colors, pick your favorite. There’s a spare room, too but it’s not ready for rent yet. Have to paint the walls and change the lightbulb. My husband—may he rest in peace—used to do all of that. You can sleep with her in her room, there’s no trouble as long as she agrees.”

Inez had kind eyes but her smile wouldn’t touch them. A lot like you a year ago. She’d lost her husband—who knows how long ago—but it still was reflected in her.

“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch,” he responded.

“Let’s see what she says.”

He thanked Inez and went back to check on you. You were curled up on the couch.

“Hey,” he softly said as he crouched next to you.

“Mmm?” You lifted your chin to look at him and blinked your eyes open.

“This will be my bed for the night. You go to bed. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

You sat upright with slow movements. “I feel like it's still in me.” Your breath subtly shook as you inhaled deeply. “Would you… sleep next to me?”

He cleared his throat and avoided your eyes for a second. “Y-yeah, that way I can teach you some of the exercises.” His voice came out thin.

“Right,” you chuckled.

You made your way to your bedroom; Spencer right behind you like a puppy. It was small but enough to fit everything you needed: a twin-sized bed, a nightstand with a book he’d most likely already read, a dresser with a mirror over it, and a large window.

“I sleep with the window slightly open but we can close it.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” He shook his head. “I don’t mind.” As long as you were comfortable, he didn’t mind anything at all.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and came back with your pajamas.

“I don’t bite, Spencer.” You crawled to the wall side of the bed. He was still sitting at the edge.

“Sorry.” He waited for you to be all cozy to lay on top of the covers, grabbing the blanket by the feet and laying it over him up to his chest.

“Don’t you have pajamas in your bag?” You asked.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, then realized. He didn’t have his bag.

“He… stole my bag.” He looked at you confused.

“Oh, shit.” You laughed, covering your mouth. “You were so worried about mine. I’m so sorry.”

“Or maybe I dropped it,” he added. Good thing the most valuable things were in his pockets. He only lost a pair of pants, dirty socks, and a button up he could buy again. “I don’t know.”

You laughed again, but it wasn’t your nervous laugh. It was a soft, casual laugh. He turned his head to look at you. Most beautiful weary eyes.

“You can wear something of mine. I have sweatpants and a shirt that may fit you.”

Spencer shook his head. “I’m okay. Close your eyes now,” he muttered. “You can sleep. I’ll stay here.”

You made yourself comfortable and lay on your side, resting your head next to his shoulder. “I don’t have that feeling anymore, with you here next to me.”

He didn’t say anything but he smiled at you. You had a nice face to stare at, and he could fall asleep counting each of your lashes.

“You mentioned something about some letters from my brother, when you found me.” You looked up at him. “Where were they? I always thought he didn’t leave anything.”

Your question caught him off guard.

“They were in Gary’s case files. They… they found them with his remains. Inside his wallet.”

He still wondered what your relationship with Gary was like because you didn’t wonder about why he had something of your brother’s.

“Am I ever gonna get to read them?” you asked, voice just above a whisper.

He wished he had an answer for it. He had completely forgotten about them. They probably were still under investigation or they were forgotten under a pile of documents since they didn’t contribute to the case much.

“Some cases take a lot of time,” he explained.

“So even if he’s dead, Gary it’s still under investigation?”

“It’s complicated.” Spencer shook his head.

“It’s been a long time.” You looked up at him.

“I… I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes again. He felt the need to kiss the top of your head and stroke your hair. But he didn’t.

Instead, he fell asleep, too.

The temperature dropped during the night and naturally, you both searched for warmth on each other.

When the next morning came, Spencer woke up by an odd feeling— someone in his arms. He found himself pulling you closer, still over the bed covers. Your face was buried in his neck and one of your arms was over his waist.

His heart started racing and he hoped the loud thuds of the pulse of his neck wouldn’t wake you. He carefully tried to peel himself off you but you hummed. A gentle sound between discomfort and sleepiness.

He froze until your breathing steadied again, then he tried moving once more. Gently, he lifted your arm that was hugging him and slid on his side to the edge of the bed. He almost knocked everything off your nightstand with his elbow, and you hummed in annoyance again, frowning in the sweetest way.

You were a cute sleeper.

He gained back his balance and stood there, staring at you and wondering what was the reason behind a sudden smile.

It was contagious, and he smiled too. He would’ve stayed there, but Hotch had already sent him a text that he needed to be at the BAU ASAP.

Spencer took one last glance at you to make sure he didn’t wake you, and silently made his way out of your room to the living room.

There was Inez having breakfast with Murph sitting by her feet.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” She greeted. “Would you like some coffee?”

He was running so late but how could he deny the coffee of a sweet grandma?

“I’d love to.” He accepted and sat next to her.

She had set the table for three and poured Spencer some coffee in a clear mug.

“Thank you for staying.” She placed everything that was on the table in front of him—some toast, homemade jam, butter. “I still don’t know how to help her through those panic attacks but now we will be stocked with lemons for her. Poor thing.”

“Of course.” Spencer grabbed a knife and the butter. “She’s my friend. I care about her a lot.”

“You two knew each other already?” She tilted her head.

“Yeah, sort of.” He merely said, giving his toast a small bite. “When we were kids. We were neighbors. We barely remember each other, but thanks to my job I tracked her down.”

“Ah, how nice it must've been to be reunited.” Her eyes almost disappeared with her smile. “Now I see why out of every state in America, she chose Quantico.”

Spencer frowned.

“Are you two talking behind my back?” Your voice came out of nowhere.

He shifted in his chair to look at you. You were leaning on the wall with your arms folded over your chest. You lit up the place just like that; so cozy. He could tell you didn’t want to get out of bed yet.

“I have your waffles ready, darling,” Inez said while standing.

“Oh, don’t worry.” You gestured for her to sit back. “I’ll get them. ”

Something clicked inside his chest right then; seeing you just being… you, at home, excited for waffles.

And with a deep sigh, he sealed it in.

“Sorry I’m late.” Spencer stormed into the conference room.

“Oh, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, huh?” Derek teased him right away, but Hotch didn’t give him the chance to keep teasing.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Hotch said, giving Spencer a we'll-talk-about-this-later stare.

It wasn’t a new case, luckily. Hotch had to debrief about the new protocols and codes that had to be applied in the field as well as inside the building.

While everyone took notes, Spencer doodled on his notebook.

“She’s pretty.” Penelope—on his right—whispered, gesturing at his notebook with her eyes.

He’d drawn you. A wonky version of you.

“Who is she?” She then asked. “I think I’ve seen her before.”

“Yeah, she’s my friend from Vegas.”

“Oh, neighbor girl.” She smiled sideways as if something made everything make sense: the same clothes as yesterday, the black eye, being late.

“Guys.” Hotch got their attention. “Twenty more minutes. Then we have a break.”

Sorry, both of them whispered.

Spencer brought his attention back to Hotch, but not entirely. His mind kept wandering and reliving the night before. He remembered when you asked him about your brother’s letters. Out of everyone, JJ was the one with the answers and he asked her about them as soon as Hotch gave the first break.

“I haven’t heard anything back,” she said. Her eyes darted between his evident bruised brow and his eyes.

He was surprised no one had asked about it yet.

“Can we do something about it?” Spencer’s lips settled into a bleak line.

“We can try. But you know how hard it is when it comes to things left by the victims.”

Spencer nodded. He wished he could go over everyone and hurry the process, for your serenity. Whatever triggered your panic attack last night, he was sure the uncertainty of your brother had something to do with it.

“Did you join a fight club or somethin’?” Derek came from behind and nudged Spencer’s arm, offering him a cup of coffee.

“Oh.” Spencer’s hand instinctively went to his brow. It still hurt. “I got mugged last night.”

“Damn.” Derek’s tone changed to a serious one immediately.

Spencer mentioned how he tried to defend you and lost his bag in the process—hence the same clothes as yesterday. “She had a panic attack,” he continued. “And asked me to stay with her. So I stayed with her. All night waiting for her body to stop trembling.”

“Was she alright when you left?” Derek sat back down on his seat.

“She was fine.” Spencer mirrored him. “I taught her some grounding techniques and woke up much better.”

“Then what is it? Something else is bugging you.”

Spencer gulped. The click his heart made when he was about to was bugging him.

“Remember what you said the other day about it being love?” he said.

Derek raised his brows at the realization.

“You may be right.”

I hope you enjoyed this one!!!!!

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