#I’d understand if you want to hold off on the chapter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fleurriee · 11 months

Text

— wanted desires ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader

synopsis ; too worried about being rough on you, neteyam won’t allow himself to give into his desires, despite you having never looked more ravishing. but, it’s simply been too long for you, and you can hold yourself back no longer.

word count ; 4.4k

themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; explicit content: pregnant sex, p in v sex, breast play, nipple play, ear kissing, but all kinda sensual??

author’s note ; (in this, ive kinda just assumed that na’vi sleep naked) so this has slightly less dad!neteyam in it & more horny neteyam which im sorry about. i really can’t decide if im happy with it but i want to go along with the plans i have for this series & this was a chapter i’d planned a while back. i had originally planned this to be more smutty but as i started writing this i just couldn't bc even tho it's dad!neteyam who’s just 🥵 he'd be too scared to hurt you, so, we've ended up with this?? i PROMISE the next one is absolutely fucking adorable & will have everything people want when it comes to dad!neteyam!! this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!

previous part ; next part

dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!

Neteyam was everything you could've asked for... and more.

As you slowly but surely started to reach the end of your pregnancy, the last stages just looming over your shoulders, he was always there for you. You were becoming more irrational, and there was no doubt in your mind that you were annoying everyone you came into contact with. But, each and every one of them seemed to understand, and none better than Neteyam.

Your mate was constantly by your side - physically or mentally - tending to your every need and abiding by your every request. Hormones getting the better of you, you also started to take your problems and own annoyances out on him. It was completely unfair and it always made you feel incredibly guilty and horrible in the end, crying your eyes out in your mate's arms as all you could do was apologise profusely.

But, not once did he hold it against you. No - instead of taking every harsh word you uttered to him to heart, instead of truly believing that you meant them, he allowed the blows and the insults to be thrown his way, soaking them in until your temper died down and there was nothing but an exhausted, drained and broken girl in front of him. After that, he'd soothe your apologies, caging you in his arms protectively, stroking both the top of your head and your expanding stomach whilst he assured you he understood that you hadn't meant all those words, that it was okay.

He'd insist that he didn't mind taking such aggravation, not when you were doing all the hard work... not when you were carrying his entire world on your shoulders.

To no surprise of anyone, his family were as perfect as they could be, too, always either giving you a helping hand, or steering clear less they want to say the wrong thing. It was obvious from the very start of the stark differences between the two sides of Neteyam's - and, you guess, your own - family.

When it came to those that were always supportive and understanding, it was always the girls. Neytiri would constantly make sure that you were the most comfortable in any situation you found yourself in, wanting to ensure that the mother was safe and healthy before anything else; Kiri was, without fail, bringing you different concotions made by both herself and Mo'at that helped ease your pain and soothe your anxieties; and Tuk, consistently babbling about how excited she is to finally meet her niece or nephew, planning out how all she's going to do when they arrive is dote on them. Each of them had created their own roles to play in your pregnancy, and each one comfortably took your mind off the worries that were swirling around, believing that simply nothing could go wrong when you had such beautiful people around you all the time.

On the complete other side, there were the boys. Both Jake and Lo'ak were different stories compared to the rest of their families - whilst the two of them were as excited and eager to meet your baby, too, neither one of them wanted to really get too involved, something that didn't exactly bother you, rather just making you giggle at their reactions. They gave you as much space as possible, too scared to get too close in case they either annoyed you or did something wrong. Whilst Jake had done this many times before, gone through several of these similar experiences with his own mate, he didn't want to overstep any boundaries between yourself and his eldest son, considering he had no idea what it was like carrying a baby for so long. And, Lo'ak... Lo'ak was just scared of his older brother.

After all, you were now considered delicate, and they knew if something happened to you, they'd be on the feral side of Neteyam... something neither of them particularly wanted to experience any time soon.

But, there was one thing that you couldn't stand during all of this, and, surprisingly, it wasn't anyone else trying to help.

It was Neteyam, and the fact that he wouldn't touch you.

Way more often than you were used to, you found yourself feeling sexually frustrated, the only thing you needed being for yourself and Neteyam to be intimate in the same way that got you in this situation in the first place. You narrowed your sudden feelings down to the fact that it had been so long - whilst the two of you never really had sex all the time before becoming pregnant, after being denied of your wants for an excruciatingly long period of time now, you were slowly teetering over the edge.

And, it wasn't as though you weren't trying, either. Your attempts of kissing him sensually, gaining beautiful-sounding moans out of him before he forced himself away from you; touching him explicitly, feeling him shudder under your grasp, before he moved himself impossibly further away from you, eyes scrunched tight as he held himself back; laying yourself bare for him when he go home, before he sighed dejectedly and shook his head, doing his damn best to ignore you... all to waste.

Neteyam just couldn't stand the idea of hurting you or the baby.

Sure, you guess you could understand where he was coming from, too, considering neither of you had been in this situation before, having no idea if having sex could harm either one of you, and the both of you were too prideful to ask someone else about it. So, you were stuck in what felt like a never-ending loop, enjoying itself as it tortured you blissfully.

But, you had never been so frustrated in your entire life.

The day had, once again, been a long and tiring one for the two of you, trying to let sleep overtake your entire senses and succumb to the world beyond. You were lay down upon your mat, the two of you on your sides - something that always felt more comfortable against the pains in your stomach, so Neteyam was happy to oblige - as your mate's front curls into your figure, his tail automatically wrapping itself around your bump protectively, like it always did, like a ritual.

That's when you started to feel it.

Your mind was beginning to deny you of any sleep anyway, your arousal once again getting the better of you as it painted your wanted desires within the forefront of you mind's eye until there was nothing else you could think of. But, it seemed as though Neteyam was feeling something, too - a bulge poking against your lower back, throbbing gently every now and again like it was demanding your attention, like it was excited.

For a moment, you wondered if Neteyam had even noticed his own predicament, considering he was the one so desperate to not engage in this way, and now he's aching. It's ironic that the roles have suddenly reversed, and you wonder how next to play this out.

Taking in a shuddering breath when you feel his tail subconsciously stroke against your skin, you weigh up your options - you could either ignore it completely, knowing it'll be a fight to get him to give into you, allowing the sultry thoughts within your mind to be the only release you'd get... or, you could take control for yourself.

In no time at all, you decide upon the latter. It wasn't much of a decision to make, either, too wrapped up in the sensations you knew only he could give you, wanting nothing but him all over you.

You start of with the barest of movements, not wanting to completely pounce on him in surprise, knowing that if you did, he'd get angry. The best way to get him to give in was always going to be to get him weak. Fidgeting about in place, barely moving, you pretend as though you're subconsciously trying to get comfortable - after all, who was he to say that you weren't when carrying a Na'vi around constantly?

A small moan sounds behind you, under his breath like he hadn't meant for it to spill from his lips, but it already has you smirking slightly. Instantly, you know he wants this just as much as you do, and if your plan works how you intend it to, you'll both be falling asleep blissful and satisfied after too long of denying yourselves.

Your next step is start rubbing your ass against his bulge, but ensuring your movements stay slow, so as not to arouse him so suddenly. At the feel of him against you in such a sensual way, a breathy sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you forget how much you truly enjoyed the feel of his cock anywhere on you.

Just as you’re enjoying yourself, your ass continuing to rub painfully slow against his excitement, there's a rough hand placed firmly along the side of your hip. It's not too tight a grip, not wanting to hurt you or possibly bruise you, but it's enough to hold you down in place and stop your movements from carrying on any further. "Stop," Neteyam almost demands, voice gruff as though he's just woken up, which means he'd been dreaming about taking you like he always loved to.

His one word command does practically the complete opposite of its original purpose, however - instead of listening and giving into him, it only seems to fuel your fire, adding on to your already painful arousal. The way he said the word, sounding so authoritative and annoyed and just sexy has you wanting more, more, more. It definitely wasn't in his plans to have you reacting such a way, but you couldn't help yourself anymore, too far gone. This was the closest you'd been to one another in this way for too long.

Your response to him is a whimper, pathetic and pleading, as you force your hips to move once more despite him hand still placed firmly on you. When your ass brushes against his cock again, he hisses, the sensation no doubt sending him into overdrive, whilst his fingers hold a tighter grip, automatically indenting themselves into your skin.

"Please," you whine, breaths uneven and you were barely even touching each other. "Neteyam, please."

There's a brief moment of silence that lingers between the two of you as your words evaporate into the surrounding air, yourself guessing that it's now Neteyam's turn to weigh up the options set out before him. Unfortunately, he knows you like he knows the back of his own hand, meaning it's obvious straight away that you wont give in now that you're this close to getting what you want. Besides, despite having seen you plead for him to just touch you before you fell pregnant in a way that had him excited, he's never heard you like this - desperate, anguished, and downright aching.

It makes him feel more thrilled than he'd like to admit - especially to you, right in this moment.

With a sigh of defeat, Neteyam knows there's not much else he can do other than give you what you want - although, he could change how he does it. He removes his hand from your waist, tail staying still in its place like always, fidgeting about. You're unsure as to what exactly he's doing, not words or explanations exchanged, rather just letting him do what he wants. For a second, you wonder if your plan had backfired, and he was moving further away from you, or possibly even leaving. The thought has your heart aching in displeasure.

But, then all thoughts are wiped from your mind when you begin to feel a gentle prod against your soaked entrance, subconsciously lifting one of your legs slightly higher in the air at the sensation, before Neteyam is sheathing himself fully inside you. His hand closest to you wraps around your elevated leg to relieve you of the annoyance of lifting it up yourself. When all you can really feel is Neteyam, no longer empty but warm and full, a guttural moan escapes your lips before you can trap it, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth, eyes closed tightly as you take him whole.

You hadn't truly realised how long it had been since you last felt him this way until now. Curse him and his damn protective instincts.

In just seconds, you want nothing more than to chase more of that feeling, more of that euphoric sensation, rubbing yourself impossibly closer to him as the tip of his cock hits such a sweet spot, you're sure you're with the Great Mother in some type of beautiful heaven right now.

Before you can go any further, though, Neteyam's palm finds your hip again, stopping you in place and this time, you don't bother trying to hold yourself back. The whimpers and whines that leave your throat at such a denial are mewling and pitiful, writhing about to relieve yourself of his hold, but he's relentless. Somehow, his entire body is closer to you than it was last time, faces inches away from one another as he brings his lips to your ear. At first, all you can decipher are breathless pants as his chest heaves up and down from trying to hold himself back. "No," he grunts, puffing as he attempts to gain control once more, "we're not doing that. We're going to stay like this - that's the best I'll give you."

This time, it's a groan that falls from your lips, one that sounds almost painful but you're too annoyed to care, cursing out everything for Neteyam being such a gentleman. All you want is for him to fuck you - was that so much to ask? You're not even sure if the situation you've put yourselves in is any better than having nothing, either, because now you can feel all of him entirely, can feel how excited he is to finally be inside you as his cock throbs in pleasure at being snuggled between your walls. Now, it just feels like a taunt of what you could have.

He chuckles softly against your ear at your reaction, still having not moved - and he probably wouldn't now, not unless he wanted to really feel you. The teasing smile is wiped off his features after a second, however, and replaced by one of sympathy, words becoming softer than they were before. "I'm sorry, muntxate (wife), I really don't want to hurt you or our 'evenge (girl)."

There's just a brief split second where his loving words filter through you and knock your senses apart - of course, he wouldn't want to hurt his girls, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ever did. The idea of anyone harming either of you drove him insane, let alone the cause of your pain being him. But, your fleeting emotions cascade into ones of just pure desire, filtering in one ear and out the other until your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud, panting desperately for more.

You give yourself a moment to just breathe, to not hyperventilate at the exultant feeling of him fully inside you. Neteyam assures that his grip stays firm against your hip, not wishing to relent against his own commands so easily, but he does rub his thumb in a soothing circle, painting your skin with a reminder of how much he loves both you and your child.

You're quick to move your hips again, eyes staying closed as you imagine everything he could be doing to you right now, rubbing yourself against him entirely. Immediately, your mate tightens his fingers in his grasp, a clear warning sign for you to stop in your teasing, to just bask in the embrace of one another and say that's enough.

Yet, it isn't enough. It's nowhere near being enough for you. There's a feeling of being slightly impressed at the restraint he's showing to you, and irritated all the same, until another idea comes to your mind.

Smiling a little smugly to yourself, already knowing what you're about to do next is something he definitely cannot resist based on the previous times you've done it, you clench your fluttering walls around his length, taking him whole and tightly. Your own actions cause a breath of blissful relief to pass through your slightly parted lips, loving the way you can feel his cock throb even more.

Another hiss sounds against your ear, his grip tightening, but this time, so does his tail as it continues to stay wrapped firmly around your bulging figure, the end vibrating in a fever of both agitation and anticipation. Even his body desires it, but he wont allow his mind to. He's starting to pant a little more frequently, too, now, like he's weakening at the seams, and that's when you know you have him exactly where you want him.

You continue to clench around him, bringing your hips up and down his length at a tantalisingly slow pace to ensure he feels every inch of you, hitting every spot of your walls. There's a feeling of triumph coursing through you when he no longer attempts to stop you in your teasing movements, knowing he's finally allowed himself to give into you entirely. Instead, the hand that was once gripping your hip snakes its way around your front, fondling against your breasts as he squeezes them sensually. When he moves to the other one, wanting to give it the same attention, he pinches your nipple, loving how sensitive they are due to your pregnant state, eliciting a deep moan from the back of your throat, no longer caring if anyone else can hear you.

"You're a little minx, you know that?" he taunts, words a harsh whisper against your ear but you don't care - not when the once slow movements between the two of you suddenly increase in their pace as Neteyam takes over. The alternating grip, too, against your breasts tightens, constantly squeezing them as he soaks in how swollen they feel. "Always getting what you want."

The tip of his cock repeatedly probes against that sweet, spongy part within you so beautifully as his thrusts continue to increase in their speed. Your mate almost feels feral with his actions, perhaps finally realising that he shouldn't have denied the two of you the pleasure of one another, not when you were so needy. Not wanting to stop clenching around him as he moves in and out of you in a relentless pace, you can feel your release quickly approaching already, no doubt having felt forsaken for so long - you're sensitive enough as it is being pregnant.

"Neteyam-" you moan beautifully, breathily, like a songcord to your mate's ears, sure he's never head you sound so ethereal before. You have to cut yourself off as you moan in pleasure when you start to feel his balls slapping sensually against your skin, the warm sensation within wrapping around you like a blanket, one you never want to get rid of.

He brings his head closer than it already was, burying his face within the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. Sometimes he wishes he could drown in your scent, more so than ever now that you're pregnant - somehow, you managed to emit an even more delicious scent than before. Sucking against your particular sweet spot he knows you adore having his attention on, he ensures to leave behind at least a small mark, wishing for the entire clan to know that you were his, even though you're carrying his firstborn, wanting to be sure.

Lips moving feverishly against your warm skin as he continues to fuck you at a pace that was relentless, your pleasing moans scratching against the back of your throat, he eventually finds himself at your ears, placing soft kisses against them. The sensation has them fluttering in satisfaction, but then he trails down to suck harshly against your jaw, and your breath stutters, whining. "Mmm," he hums against your skin, now resorting to placing gentle kisses when he was once rough. "What is it, sevin (pretty)?"

In all this time, whilst his mouth was focused elsewhere, not once had his thrusts faltered, loving the way you’re so drunk on him entirely.

"I'm - I'm so close, 'teyam," you mewl, eyes slightly rolling to back of your head as he grunts at yet another clench from you around his cock, before you close them shut when they start to tear up.

"I know," he agrees, words just a breathy whisper, already being able to understand how close you truly are from the way you feel around him. It feels like his mind is on fire as your walls flutter from being so close to release, clenching and unclenching around him, having lost its rhythm. His pants are becoming more erratic now, bearing down upon you, but it makes you feel alive. "I'm close, too."

Quickly, knowing that the two of you wont be able to last much longer, he brings his queue forward, the tendrils reaching out as he then connects it with your own awaiting one. Movements now becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, but continuing to hit right at your cervix, your eyes widen as you start to feel everything he currently is - all the love, the desire, the frustration - bathing in one another like two pieces of a puzzle only made for you two.

Burying his head back in the crook of your neck, hand moving down to caress your swollen baby bump - one that's just moons away from its expected day - he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, wanting to tattoo them into you so you'll never forget them. Words like I love you, you're so beautiful, I can't wait to make more, having you crooning somehow more than ever, feeling him peppering kisses to you now.

It's not long after that when the two of you are finally releasing together, explicit moans and grunts escaping your lips as your arousal's become spent. "Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam-" you repeat his name like a prayer, having never sounded more amazing to your mate.

You can feel the mixture of your cum with his against Neteyam's cock, awaiting the feeling of becoming empty and cold when he removes himself from you and lets it trickle between your thighs. But, nothing of the sort happens. Rather, your mate stays put, keeping his cock in your warmth, snug, and therefore, keeping all his cum pushed further in you - something he's always loved to do.

Eyes closed in bliss, mouth parted as you try to catch your breath, Neteyam gives your stomach a few tender taps, garnering your attention. Before you can fully move your head on your own, Neteyam's hand moves to cup the side of your face, bringing your noses together as you breathe one another in. He presses a forgiving kiss against your lips, letting them linger against one another, not wanting to pull away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, the worry and concern evident in both his tone, but also the way you notice his ears droop and eyes glaze over just at the thought.

Looking up at him, you give him the most loving smile you could muster, shaking your head adamantly. "No, ma'teyam," your words are gentle, soothing, "we're both okay, I promise." You make sure to kiss him again with the same softness he gave you, wanting to ensure he completely understood that you meant every word, that you were okay.

This time, when you pull away, he nuzzles your noses together in a domestic way he's started to do since a few moons ago - the same way he likes to do it with your stomach, like he's doing it with your daughter. Pressing his forehead against your own, his eyes never once leave yours, full of adoration and devotion. "I'm sorry I was neglecting you..."

Instantly, your heart sinks at his words, your hand moving up to caress his cheek soothingly like he does yours. You can hear the despair and brokenness behind his voice, and it only pains you further - Neteyam couldn't have been a better mate throughout this entire journey together, but he didn't understand that. He always thought he had to be perfect, that he had to do everything right straight away, but this was a journey you were experiencing for the first time together.

Neteyam couldn't neglect you if he tried. He's too doting, too domesticated, too tender to even think about doing such a thing.

"You do not need to apologise, my muntxatan (husband). I understand why you were worried - but you never neglected me, not once. You were just scared, and so am I..." you pause, your once sympathetic and caring expression turning teasing and menacing, "...but, now that we know that it doesn't do either of us any harm, maybe we could do it more often..."

He chuckles at your words, watching as you bite your lips in mock thought, attempting to hide the sultry smile playing at your lips. It's like your words instantly managed to clear his worry, feeling it dissipate at your loving reassurance, until his eyes were bright and his smile wide, looking down at you like you held the entire universe within you.

In a way, he supposed you did.

"I guess we could..." he relents, his own tone turning into one of teasing, too, smirking as he brings your faces closer into a sensual kiss. This one is all tongues and teeth clashing together, feverish in anticipation to experience more together now that the worries once clouding over the two of you had begun to part.

As his hands roam over your body, from your jaw, to your neck, to your breasts, and finally to your stomach, caressing every inch of your skin like you were a painting, he moves to hover over you, mindful not to put his weight on top of you. A giggle falls from your lips at his sudden change in demeanour, but that's soon swallowed by another deep kiss that has your breath dispersing almost immediately.

It was safe to say, with the amount of times the two of you came together as one just during that particular night, if you weren't pregnant beforehand, you definitely would've been after that.

taglist ;

@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam x pregnant reader #dad!neteyam #dad neteyam #dad neteyam series <3

2K notes · View notes

jupitercomet · 5 months

Text

The Highly Anticipated Bacherolette Party

summary - Living in a new apartment, you run into your neighbor all the time. You run into him in the hallway, on the elevator, at your best friend's bachelorette party where he's dressed as a sexy firefighter. After seeing him in nothing but a pair spandex briefs and suspenders, you know have to move. Or sleep with him. One of the two.

warnings - stripper au, tangled dynamic, language, no use of y/n, mentions of drinking, stripping, sexual touching?? idk, Bradley is 6'7" because I said so, chapter specific

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 3.3k

so seductive masterlist

“You’re not allergic to sesame, are you?”

You perk up when Bradley calls to you over his shoulder, raising his voice slightly to be heard above the sizzling pan in his hand. The scent of teriyaki steak wafts through the room and you know Pascal is completely jealous of you right now. Not that you blame him, you also didn’t expect to be waiting comfortably on a couch as your incredibly hot neighbor cooks food for you.

You wet your lips, ignoring the slight sting as you take in his question. You’d lost your chapstick somewhere on your walk to work and haven’t found the time to get another one so, for the moment, your lips are paying for it. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Bradley narrows his eyes at you, turning down the heat as you start to take up more of his attention.

“I mean, to my knowledge, I don’t have one,” you shrug. “I haven’t really thought about it. But I’m not dead yet, so—”

You bite back a grin when Bradley lets out a scoff, placing an exasperated hand on his hip as a dish towel stays thrown over his shoulder. He looks like an overworked housewife in the best way, lips pursed as he glares at you. “Princess, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I genuinely have no idea how you’ve survived this long,” he starts and then you can’t stop yourself from giggling, doubling over on the couch as Bradley’s expression quickly shifts to confusion and then amused understanding. “You’re messing with me,” he concludes.

“I am,” you agree through your laughter.

“You’re ridiculous,” Bradley shakes his head fondly, turning back to the kitchen to start plating the food. “More ridiculous than Ms. Tillard.”

Your jaw drops. “No, I’m not! Bradley, she tried to get you to fix her shower at 2:00 in the morning!”

“Don’t forget the skimpy bathrobe,” Bradley adds, making his way over to you and popping a bite of broccoli in his mouth.

He plops down directly next to you, large bicep brushing against yours as he settles and hands you your plate of teriyaki steak. You thank him for it quietly, before delving back into the conversation at hand.

“Exactly, I’m not worse than her. I’ve never done that.”

“Hey now, I never said I’d be mad if you did that,” Bradley corrects you quickly, a smug smile on his face when you visibly fluster.

You shove his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, trying to hide how heated your face is. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m just saying, princess,” Bradley holds his hands up (well, one hand. The hand that’s not busy holding his plate raises with his fork in between his fingers) with a cheeky grin. “If you ever want to wake me up in the middle of the night, wearing lingerie and telling me deeply intimate stories about your ex husband, I would not object in the slightest.”

While the thought of Bradley openly admiring you in lingerie has you hot for a whole different reason, you ignore the feeling, shrugging off his words with a humorless chuckle. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t have an ex husband. That would require me to have, you know, dated someone.”

The words come out more awkward than you mean them to, perhaps the definition of oversharing now that you think about it, and you wish that you could take them back as soon as they leave your mouth. If Bradley agrees, he doesn’t say anything, instead his eyes almost seem to darken and then he’s looking away from you and shoving a carrot in his mouth.

You follow his lead, finally digging into the food in front of you. The second it reaches your taste buds, you let out a sound of delight. “Bradley, this is so good!” You take another bite hastily.

Bradley’s cooking abilities had been a surprise to you the first time you finally came over. Actually, everything about the encounter had been a bit of a surprise. You hadn’t entirely known what to expect when you and Bradley finally set a concrete date and time to hangout. The two of you had been toying around it over text, which you felt much more comfortable communicating on in the beginning. It was so much easier to get your words out clearly without having to also look at his cute face.

But maybe the two of you had grown too comfortable with small talk you could respond to at your convenience or, as Callie had so nicely put it, both stupidly thought you’d mess up a face-to-face interaction. (Which you had valid reasons for, but Callie refused to hear it). With a push from her and a motivational talk with Pascal, you and Bradley finally made the plans that would require you to walk approximately five feet from your front door.

You were nervous, of course you were. You like to think that Bradley was a little nervous too—with the way he opened the door before you could even knock and the light flush on his face that never seemed to quite go away. Was he as nervous as you suddenly became when you caught sight of the open door to his bedroom and were reminded of all the things you know he does in said bedroom? Maybe not, but he was nervous for a moment and you take some pride in that.

The two of you sat on opposite ends of the couch and stiffly talked about things like the weather, before Bradley offered to make some food and that was when you first learned that he was an excellent chef. Cooking seemed to put Bradley in his element, making him more relaxed, and his easygoingness resulted in you relaxing a bit more too. The two of you fell back into how it was over text and, while laughing with him over some gossip about one of your other neighbors, you realized that Callie had been right. Maybe the two of you had just been a little scared.

After that, you and Bradley started seeing each other more regularly. You have standing dinners every Saturday, though often see each other far more throughout the week. If Bradley had a long day, he’d send you a quick text and leave the door unlocked for you. If you had a long day, you’d just show up unannounced.

You’re sure that your mother and father would have an aneurysm if they knew about your friendship with the man. He was everything you were taught to avoid growing up and also somewhat of a stranger (the first time you met him, at least). He cursed, and told vulgar jokes, and hadn’t gone to college. And part of you worried that you were so interested in Bradley as a way to spite your parents about the sheltered upbringing they forced upon you, but you knew in your heart that wasn’t true.

Bradley’s a good person, you know that. And you know that anything your dad thinks about him is entirely false because there’s not just one way to be a good person. You’re not sure what you grew up thinking even makes you a good person. Because Bradley is kind and funny, he carries your groceries and makes you laugh when you’ve had a bad day. He helps you with things you don’t totally understand, like talking to your landlord or building IKEA furniture. He does all that because that’s just the kind of person he is, you’ve learned, a good person. And your family—your father especially—would never do something like that. So what exactly does that say about you?

You feel a thick finger press gently into your temple.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Bradley teases. “Care to share with the class, princess?”

You purse your lips, embarrassed to have been caught falling into this spiral that you find yourself in often. You don’t really want to ruin the mood of the night and you feel as though you’ve overshared enough. Talking to Bradley has really shown you just how privileged you are and if your biggest problem is simply morality maybe you shouldn’t be talking at all.

Bradley’s face softens as he must read something across your features. He moves his hand again, but instead of poking you, he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Or you could tell me how Callie’s wedding planning is going.”

He’s giving you an out and you smile softly. Bradley’s a good person.

“It’s good,” you say and you take another bite of food because it’s delicious. “I can’t believe how close it’s getting.”

“Have you finished planning the bachelorette party?” Bradley asks.

“Oh.” You deflate. “I’m actually not planning that.” You try to shrug it off, though you’ve never been good at that, so you’re sure it’s not successful.

From your peripheral, you see Bradley furrow his brows. “You’re the maid of honor though.”

“Yeah, I— One of Callie’s work friends really wanted to plan it and I was busy moving at the time. Plus I’m not super knowledgeable about that stuff. Everyone thought it would be easier.” You shrug.

It’s silent for a moment as Bradley sets down his plate and you fear you might have overshared again. “You can plan my bachelorette party,” he offers suddenly.

The words catch you off guard and you can’t stop the giggles that suddenly spill from your lips. “What?”

“You heard me,” Bradley shoots you a lopsided smile. “You can plan my bachelorette party. We can wear those sashes and everything can be dick shaped. Just—” He grins. “No strippers please.”

Your jaw drops. “Strippers? Bradley, don’t be crass.”

“It’s settled then,” Bradley teases and then he’s patting your knee. “Now finish your food, I know you didn’t have lunch today.”

How Bradley knows that, you have no idea, but you’re sure your guilty expression confirms it and you quickly start digging in again, giving him a sheepish smile as your cheeks puff out with food. He just snorts at your expression, picking up his food again with a shake of his head.

“Ridiculous,” he reiterates and you grin.

Regardless of what’s actually right and wrong in the world, at least you know that Bradley Bradshaw is a good person.

You feel like a football player with how many drunk girls you’re dodging and weaving through—or at least, this is what you imagine football players feel like, maybe it takes more than just barreling through intoxicated women and dodging off-rhythm elbows. Finally, you make it to Callie with an over dramatic sigh of relief as you plop down next to her on the vinyl upholstery of your booth.

Callie’s work friend Lucy had gone all out for her bachelorette party, renting out a private room at a popular club and providing you all with copious amounts of alcohol. Callie seems to be having the time of her life, wearing her white bride sash across her body proudly and a cute tiara that’s sliding off her head. You’re dressed similarly—though your sash is pink—and you can feel the combs of your tiara just above your ears. All and all, everyone seems to be having a good time and you’re happy that it turned out this way because you doubt you could have pulled off anything near this.

When Callie catches your thoughtful expression, she wraps her arm around yours, pushing a shot towards you. “You are not drunk enough,” she tells you knowingly, collapsing all her weight onto you.

You take the shot quickly, wincing at the taste, holding up the shot glass as if to prove it to Callie. “And you may be too drunk,” you note, noticing the way she’s resting her head on your shoulder. “Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No!” Callie stops you quickly, perking up suddenly before pushing at you to let you both out of the booth. “Lucy said she has a surprise in our private room and, as my maid of honor, you legally can’t miss this.”

You laugh as Callie drags you through the crowd of people dancing, faring much better than you did, but you’d always known she’d be a better football player out of the two of you. “What? You gonna sue me or something?”

“Why do you think I’m marrying Billy? It’s so I can sue you whenever I feel like it.” Though drunk, Callie comes up with the quip quickly and you shake your head with a giggle as she shoves you into the private room.

Most of your party is already inside, all about as drunk as Callie, watching as Lucy clears the few tables in the room and drags two chairs into an open space.

“Callie!” She lights up when she sees the bride-to-be and for the second time tonight, you’re being dragged by a drunk woman. “And maid of honor! You totally need to be here too.”

Before you can ask any questions, Lucy is pressing on your shoulders—and for such a small woman, she is strong—causing you to plop into one of the empty chairs as Callie sits in the other one.

Lucy claps excitedly. “Okay! Just stay like that, alright? They should be here any second.”

“They?” You turn your head to Callie slowly, but your best friend just shrugs.

It takes another minute of sitting in a chair in the middle of an almost empty room before you’re ready to start asking questions again and you open your mouth, but the words die on your tongue when the lights suddenly dim and color changing stage lights take their place, moving over the room slowly. Lucy squeals as the door to the room opens and… is that a fog machine?

“Hot in Herre” suddenly starts blasting through the speakers and then three men are entering the room clad in thick jackets and— Did someone call the fire department?

One of the fire fighters stops in the middle of the room, scanning you all with a smirk on his face and there’s something about him that’s strangely familiar. The music dies down a bit as he struts around the room.

“We’re here about the fire.” Your eyebrows jump in alarm. Fire?! If there’s a fire, why are these guys just standing there? “But the only hot stuff I’m seeing is you ladies,” he continues before turning to his compatriot. “Wouldn’t you say so, Coyote?”

The other guy—Coyote—grins, locking eyes with Lucy. “Definitely.”

It’s not until one of your friends shouts “Take your clothes off!” that you realize what’s going on and you whip your head to look at Callie in a panic. “Oh my god, they’re strippers?”

“Bitch, what did you think they were?” She laughs and you’re too embarrassed to admit you honestly thought they were a part of the San Diego Fire Department so you just keep your mouth shut.

…For approximately one second, when your brain finally pieces together something else. “Wait,” you whisper hiss, gesturing to the chair you’re sitting on. “Are they gonna give us lap dances?!”

Before Callie can answer, Firefighter number one grabs your attention again, the song switching to something you don’t recognize—though it’s still fire related, you’re sure. “Well, if we’re here… Why don’t we give you ladies a show?”

The room erupts in cheers and suddenly the lights are blinding and all three men are ripping off their jackets to reveal spandex briefs, suspenders, and baby oiled abdominals. The rest of your party looks elated at this development, but you’re sure your face shows nothing short of horror because you finally realize where you’ve seen Firefighter number one from. He was the blond guy from the elevator that was heading over to Bradley’s place that day you and Bradley talked for the second time. And Coyote, you recognize him too! He was also there. And the third guy—

Oh no.

No, this can not be happening.

“Where’s the bride, huh?” Firefighter number one smirks, directing his attention to you and Callie who are both frozen in your chairs. “Hey, sweetheart. Aren’t you a pretty thing?”

Firefighter number one seemed focused on Callie, and Coyote had already moved to entertain the rest of your friends, and Lucy had sat you down in a chair which meant that she expected you to also… interact with the strippers, and the only one left was—

You duck your head down quickly, hoping the darkness of the room can hide your features from Bradley as he makes his way over to you. Suddenly all you can think about is his voice through your wall the first night you moved in. Would he sound like that now? What if he called you a good girl? How could you come back from that?!

Bradley’s deep chuckle cuts off your thoughts and you have to hold your breath because he’s now close enough that you’re making the choice between making direct eye contact with either his abs or his… package. “Shy, honey?” He questions softly and your thighs clench.

You’re not strong enough for this. You’re not strong enough for this. You’re not strong enough for this. You’re not strong enough—

To your right, Callie is pretending to throw money on her stripper with a loud cackle, having a much better time than you as you try to figure out how to get through this interaction without Bradley realizing that he’s strip-teasing his neighbor.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Bradley’s voice is raspy as he gently takes your hand and slides it across his defined muscles. “We can do this nice and slow…”

Inside you’re screaming, but you know you can’t say anything because then he’d definitely recognize you. Instead, you keep your eyes trained on his massive thighs, teeth clamped down on your tongue as he drags your hand over his bare chest. He pauses this exploration suddenly, reaching his other hand up to fix the tiara you’ve long since forgotten about.

“This is cute. You a princess or something?”

Your eyes widen at the name and you shake your head vigorously, eyes now trained on his shoes. He can’t recognize you!

Bradley laughs are your reaction. “Alright, alright. Not a princess, got it. But since you’re answering questions now…” His grip on your hand suddenly tightens and he leans over to whisper, “You like touchin’ me here?” He emphasizes the words with another stroke of your hand over his abdomen.

You know you should shake your head. That would get Bradley to stop touching you and maybe you could get through the whole thing without him realizing that it’s you. But his voice so close to your ear does something to you and you find yourself nodding meekly.

“What about here?” He whispers, dragging your hand down over the curves and dips of his abs until your fingers are brushing the waistband of his shorts. “You like touching me here?”

You can only nod again.

“Yeah, you do, huh?” Bradley chuckles against your ear. His hand feels so big compared to yours and he just keeps dragging it down with such dominance, you can’t help but follow whatever he decides. His hand—and, as a result, yours—stops suddenly. “What about here?” Bradley smirks, his voice heavy.

When you realize what you’re holding, your eyes widen and, without thinking, you whip your head up to look at Bradley in shock. One of the colored lights flashes over you and Bradley’s hand freezes and then falls from where it was pressed against yours. His own eyes widen, his face still mere inches from yours as his mouth opens and closes a couple times.

“Princess?”

join my Bradley Bradshaw taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! thank you for reading!

Bradley taglist:

@parrish-will-perrish

@bobblebobsbae

@takemetooneverlanddd

@queerqueenlynn

@emma8895eb

@averyhotchner

@shanimallina87

@yuckosworld

@rosedurin

@thatdammchickennugget

@sailor-aviator

@kmc1989

@desert-fern

@sammyrenae68

@cottagecori

@sailor-aviator

@thelonelyumbrella

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster imagine #rooster imagines #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #rooster fic #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick fanfiction #x reader #so seductive #buggy's got a pen

443 notes · View notes

greatooglymooglyyy · 29 days

Text

The Last Ride Chapter Five (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

series masterlist

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: drinking, arguing, insecurity, 3.6k words

a/n: holy shit so many words. what the fuck

“Okay, okay, I got one. Lucky Charms or Frosted Flakes?” A familiar voice asks.

The soft breeze that fluctuates throughout the air sifts through the boy's hair softly, the sun beating down only furthering the color in his eyes.

This was always my favorite weather, not too overwhelmingly hot and stagnant, but also not a windy mess of a day—Just calm.

I scoff jokingly as I come around the fence, my demeanor more relaxed than it usually is on the ranch. “Frosted Flakes, duh. What do you take me for?”

Chris smiles and gives me a raised brow look, almost mocking me in a sense as he speaks. “Yeah okay, little Ms. ‘I like my eggs poached’.”

“Hey! Not everybody can scramble them hard like Birdie.” I say in defense, pulling myself up to perch on the ledge he’s leaning against.

He rolls his eyes and glances around at the ranch, probably counting off our tasks to make sure we haven’t missed anything. As he thinks, his body shifts closer to mine, his arm brushing my thigh and setting off sparks throughout my body.

It’s just Chris, just annoying egotistical Chris who happened to place his hand on my thigh, and I happened to like it more than I'd care to admit.

In the couple weeks since my birthday, we’ve fallen into something of a friendship. The teasing is still persistent, but it’s a lot less serious. There’s something new between us, something that feels like understanding but also seems a bit more tender.

Chris turns back to me, smiling brightly. “Well, I think it’s ‘bout time we call it a wrap, huh Scotch?”

He pushes off the fence and comes to stand in front of me, placing a hand on my hip and guiding me off of the ledge. Heat floods my skin at the casual touch and multiplies when he doesn’t immediately pull away once I’m on the ground. The moment holds for a second as our eyes lock; his thumb resting on the tiny patch of skin right above where my shorts end and my shirt begins.

When the moment ends, I expect him to do what he always does and deflect but this time he doesn’t. He just gently pulls away and smiles at me, as if finally acknowledging this dynamic between us.

We walk back to the truck to meet up with Uncle Buck, Chris growing a bit unusually quiet, nothing but the sound of our shoes on the dirt and the occasional rock getting kicked to the side. I reach over and gently push his shoulder in question and he meets my eye. He stops walking and I follow his slowed pace, now turning to stand in front of him. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks, visibly cringing at himself as he asks and I can’t help but smile at his new sense of awkwardness. “I just mean like, do you want to get out of the house?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.” I lie, nodding my head up slightly knowing damn well I’d go anywhere he wanted at this point. But, Chris doesn’t seem to know this, shifting the feet in his cowboy boots like he’s nervous, like I make him nervous.

“My friends and I usually meet up at Hank’s on Friday nights. It’s pretty fun, I think.” He says, looking over my shoulder and moving around his toothpick that rests in his teeth.

“Who’s Hank?” I ask, a bit concerned with the idea of going to a stranger's house for a first hangout. But, Chris just laughs, breaking the tension with a sound I'm more than happy to hear exit his lips.

“It’s a honky-tonk, girl.”

“Oh,” I think for a second, racking my brain to attempt to figure out what the hell a honky-tonk is. “Still lost, bud.”

He rolls his eyes, a proud smirk growing on his face. “Ain’t you ever seen the Hannah Montana movie?”

My jaw drops and I blink at him rapidly, processing the new ammo he just gave me for free. “Holy shit.”

“Alright, don’t start-”

“Pop it, lock it, polka dot it, countrify, then hip-hop it-” I sing obnoxiously as I slide around in front of him doing the dance.

His tongue glides over his front teeth, hiding the smile that so desperately wants to come out. “You know what? Stay home. You ain’t invited anymore.”

“Want me to do The Climb next?”

Chris shakes his head and steps around me, a small smile playing on his lips as he begins to walk towards the truck again. “Shut up. It’s a country bar. You coming or not?”

I sigh dramatically as I catch up to him, cocking my head to the side. “Way to make a girl feel special. ‘You coming or nah.” I mock.

He reaches out and grabs my elbow, tugging me to a stop. “Please come.”

I fight every urge to stop fully in my tracks at his words, the sudden affection catching me completely off guard. “Wouldn’t want a city girl like me ruining your fun with the boys” I tease, mocking his Southern accent.

He doesn’t reply, instead just staring down at me with a look of seriousness that I have yet to see through his eyes. “I’m kidding, I'd love to go,” I say, suddenly feeling smaller under his gaze.

He gives me a bright smile, the sun hitting just right to light his entire face up as relief sets into his shoulders. And just like that, I’m a goner.

*********************************************************

Aunt Birdie sits on the edge of my bed, watching as I sort through every piece of clothing I brought to Louisiana. I’ve been trying to put an outfit together for an hour but nothing is working. Everything is either too LA or meant to be work clothes only. I don’t want his friends to think I’m bougie but I’d rather die than wear overalls off of this ranch.

“So…” My aunt starts, trying and failing to sound casual as she kicks her feet gently. “Chris, huh?”

I toss her a look over my shoulder, immediately stiffening up. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, sure, bunny.” She answers with a knowing smirk. “Just friends.”

I sigh and stand from the floor in defeat before falling backwards onto my bed letting out yet another breath. This is impossible. “I’m not going.”

“The hell you ain’t!” She exclaims, hopping up and walking over to my closet with a new sense of urgency. “What’s wrong with this one?”

She pulls out a red, simple dress that I don’t even remember packing and holds it against her body, looking down at it with a confused expression. I tap my finger against my chin as I think but then throw my head back in frustration. “I don’t know. Just tell me what country girls wear, please.”

Birdie frowns and lowers the dress, coming back over to the bed to sit beside me. She taps my leg so I will sit up and look at her. “Is that what all this is about?”

Not wanting to admit how insecure I’m actually feeling, I say nothing for a second and then shrug as a familiar pit digs deeper into my stomach. “I just don’t want to stand out.”

It sounds pathetic, I feel pathetic, but the last thing I need is to look like some prissy LA girl that Chris dragged along. I just want to be liked.

My aunt laughs and places her palm to my face, cupping my jaw delicately. “Hate to tell you this darling but you’d stand out if you were a grain of sand at the beach.”

I groan, dropping my head onto her shoulder in full defeat. “Great.”

“Just be you, my love. If Chris wanted one of these little country chickenheads, then why did he go looking for you?” She insists, handing me the red fabric and standing.

Giving her a small smile, I take the dress and head to the bathroom, stopping on the way to grab my cowboy boots. It’s about time I give them a try.

The mirror and I aren’t friends in any capacity. My hands smooth over the dress, my mind still fighting every urge to text Chris and say I can’t go, but I don’t let myself, instead taking in a breath of air and letting it leave my lungs.

A smile replaces my once sad face. I'm going to a bar with a cute boy, and I'm excited about it.

Once I’m ready, I check my phone expecting to see a text from Chris saying he’s on the way but there are no notifications. I scrunch my face up but head to the living room to wait, the sight of him waiting on the couch taking me by surprise.

“How long ago did you get here?” I ask in confusion, looking over to where my uncle and aunt sit.

“Not long. Just an hour and a half.” He looks down dramatically.

“Chris! Why didn’t you-”

“I’m joking. Like ten minutes. You ready?” He says, standing with a smile on his face and dusting off his blue jeans.

“Why didn’t you just wait in the car and text me or something?” I ask as I walk over to meet him at the door.

Three pairs of eyes stare at me as if I’ve lost my mind, Chris’ holding genuine offense. “What?” I question defensively, my gaze shifting between the eyes on me as my eyebrows furrow together.

“Man, those city boys ain’t worth a damn.” He mutters as he holds the door open, waiting for me to walk first and following behind shortly.

I’m still a bit confused but I shake it off as I climb into his truck. To my surprise, it’s spotless like he’s just gotten it detailed and I look over at him when he gets in. “Why is your car so clean?”

The smell of cleaning materials and an air freshener overtakes any other sense.

Tossing an arm over my headrest to reverse, he kisses his teeth and shakes his head. “Can’t ever win with you huh? If it’s messy, you talk shit. If it’s clean, you talk shit.”

“I’m just saying.” I laugh, trying not to focus on how close his face is to mine. “Last time I got in here, it was a biohazard.”

“Last time, I wasn’t tryin’ to impress you.” He replies, sending my heart into overdrive. I can’t even think of a witty response so I just lean back in my seat, biting my lip to hide a smile.

Chris reaches forward and turns up his music, melodic rap music flooding the car, and then leans back. He places his elbow on the center console, his palm facing up, and I can’t help but stare at his hand, wishing he’d reach over and take mine.

Something takes over me and in a surge of confidence, I lace our fingers together, turning and looking out the window so I don’t have to see his reaction. He seems to tense up for a second so I let his hand go and move to pull mine away, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he intertwines our hands again, smoothing his thumb against the back of mine, and doesn’t let go until we pull into the parking lot.

Chris jogs around the car and opens my door, extending his hand to help me out of his tall truck. When I’m on the ground, he takes a step back and trails his eyes over me. “You’re wearing the boots.” He comments quietly, taking my hand again and leaning us towards the bar.

“For the first time,” I say looking down at them with a smile. “Hope I styled them right.”

He looks over at me again, his easy smirk pulling back up to his face. “You styled them right.”

I sigh at the way he always talks in circles instead of giving direct compliments, trying to push away how it reminds me of Jace. But he notices and squeezes my hand so I’ll look up at him. “You’re gorgeous, Scotch. Everyday. But especially in those boots.”

Thankfully, he swings the door open to Hank’s before I can melt into a puddle on the sidewalk and we head inside. He spots his friends and starts toward them, tugging me behind him.

Hanks was definitely unlike any other bar I’ve been to, a more laid-back, old-fashioned vibe as a crowd of cowboys overtakes the open space.

As much as I can love parties, the pit in my stomach before entering them never goes away.

A couple of the boys whoop out Chris’ name when they notice him and he chuckles, pulling back his free hand to dap them up. I stand awkwardly behind him, preparing myself for the moment when he’ll drop my hand now that we’re with his friends. But it never comes.

Instead, he pulls me to his side and introduces me with a smile. It’s a pretty big group, four girls and five boys, and they’ve pushed two tables together to make room for all of them. They all give me a friendly smile as Chris rattles off their names; a wasted effort since I’ll never remember them all.

“Y/N?” One of the girls says and I squint at her in confusion before recognition hits. “Hi, Abby!” I answer, relieved to know at least one other person besides Chris.

The girl next to her, Kayla, tosses Abby an annoyed look and scrunches up her nose. “How do you know her?”

I listen as Abby explains how we met in her store as Chris leads me to the chair across from her and pulls it out for me.

One of the boys, Jason, who I remember Chris describing as his best friend, leans across the table giving me a mischievous smirk. “So you’re the girl haunting our group chat, huh?”

Tossing a look at Chris as he settles next to me, I smile and shake my head. “I don’t think so. Your boy here hates me.”

Jason laughs and opens his mouth to say something but Chris cuts in quickly. “What’s everybody drinking? I’ll get a round.”

Everyone shrugs and says they’re good with whatever but their eyes all seem to settle on me as if I’ll need a special order. I roll my eyes, agreeing softly that anything is fine.

Chris heads off to the bar and the boys turn back to each other starting up a conversation about sports. Kayla stares me down, flipping her jet-black hair over her shoulder, and I narrow my eyes back.

“What were you from again, Amber?” She asks sweetly, feigning innocence.

“Y/N.” One of the other girls corrects, but they lower their eyes to the table when Kayla glares at them. She turns back to me, poking her lip out in a forced pout. “Oops, sorry. That’s right. That was Chris’ last hoe of the week.”

I smile widely, knowing she thought that would really get me. “Interesting. Which week were you?” I ask, adopting her sickly sweet tone.

This is a game I've played before, and I've won it in the past.

The table goes quiet as she sneers at me before Jason barks out a laugh and Abby fights back a smile.

“Don’t be bitter, Kayla baby. You know I’m still single.” He says as he slings an arm over her shoulders. She turns to him and sniffles before knocking his arm off. “Shut up, Jay.”

I strike up a conversation with Abby and the other two girls about their shoes until Chris finally returns with the drinks.

He sets the tray in the middle of the table before he comes back to his seat and leans in to whisper in my ear. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. Hank only serves us the real cheap shit.”

I pull back and give him a look of disbelief. “You think I’ve never had cheap vodka?”

Kayla snorts across the table and I glance over at her, starting to get annoyed with her attitude. “What’s cheap to you? Forty dollars? Please. You’re strung up tighter than a corset.”

“You got an issue?” Chris asks, leaning forward and staring at her until she sits back. I place a hand on his arm and smile, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s fine. Wanna see a party trick I learned?” I ask the table.

When they agree, I lean forward and pick up a shot glass with my mouth, tilting my head back and rotating it with my tongue until the liquid splashes down my throat. When it’s gone, I lower the glass back to the table, all the while keeping my arms at my sides. “No hands.” I sing, giggling a bit when the table starts to whoop and cheer for me.

“Alright, that was kinda cool, Scotch, I’ll give you that. But can you do this?” Chris says, grabbing a glass of Guinness from the tray and chugging it down until he splits the G.

I smile at him and shrug. “Maybe not but mine was more impressive.” I tease as he wipes his mouth.

“You’re right, it was. Teach me how to do it.” He says, reaching down and grabbing the base of my chair to slide me closer to him.

*********************************************************

“So you actually want to try not to hit the white ball into the pocket,” I call out with a grin. “I don’t know if you knew that or not.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks. That was real helpful.” Chris yells back sarcastically as he digs out the ball.

I’m sitting on a decently comfy chair in the back of the bar watching Chris get obliterated in pool. The rest of the girls went to join line dancing, something I was definitely not ready for, so I decided to stay back.

Jason sinks the 8 ball into the pocket, grinning and holds his hand out for payment.

“No way you’re not cheating,” Chris says as he slaps a twenty into his friend’s palm. He sighs and comes back over to me, bracing a hand on either arm of the chair and leaning down. “And you. Ain’t you supposed to be my good luck charm or something?”

I shrug noncommittally. “I tried. I can only do so much.”

“Is that right?” He says laughing as he reaches down and grabs my sides causing me to squirm. God, I regret the day I ever let him find out I was ticklish.

Someone calls Chris’ name and he turns, saving me from my torture. “Hank the man!”

A man who looks about my dad’s age steps around and gives us both a wide smile. He’s got kind eyes and the type of receding hairline that just makes me want to trust him.

“What’s going on with you, huh? You come into my spot and you don’t give me a wink!”

“Aw, you know it’s not like that. I was a little distracted.” He answers, nodding his head back at me and sending heat up my neck.

Hank looks back over at me and extends a hand, introducing himself. “You must be Y/N.”

“Don’t say that. She’s gonna think I sit around talking about her all day.” Chris sighs in fake annoyance.

“Don’t worry. I already assumed you did.” I chime in, laughing. Hank chuckles and taps Chris on the chest. “I like her. Keep her close.”

Chris smiles over at me, electricity humming between us. “Trying to figure out how to do that as we speak.” He admits.

I study him, wanting nothing more than to stand and kiss him with every bit of emotion I can muster but refrain.

“Well, you better figure it out. I ain’t seen a beauty like that in this town since your mama.” Hank jokes, nudging a shoulder against Chris’. And before he even responds, I sense the change in the atmosphere.

Chris narrows his eyes, his nostrils flaring out as he levels the man with a stare. “Shut your fucking mouth about that.”

Hank looks startled, clearly not meaning any offense but Chris storms out of the bar before he can apologize. The bell over the exit announcing his departure.

I stand there dumbly for a second before I follow him out, calling his name. He slows slightly, looking over his shoulder at me, but the fire in his eyes hasn't cooled a bit.

“Not now, Y/N.” He snaps as we reach the car, going around to the driver’s side and slamming it shut before I can even open my door. I hesitate for a second and he lays on the horn as if I’m taking an hour. Biting back my irritation, I hop into the truck silently, stealing looks at his hardened profile as he speeds out of the parking lot.

Once a bit of time has passed, I chance speaking, hoping to help him out of this sour mood. “Are you alright?”

He chuckles bitterly, shaking his head in annoyance. “Stop pretending like you care.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, turning my body towards him and hardening my eyes.

“You heard me. Why does it matter? You ain’t my girl. You’re just some broad who’s gonna fly out of here in a couple of months and never look back.” He rants, his breathing heavy.

I blink at him for a few seconds trying to reconcile this boy next to me with the one who I just spent the night with. Before I give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me, I turn away, whispering a quiet “okay”, and focus on the passing town.

When we pull up in front of the house, Chris opens his mouth as if to say something but I quickly toss the door open and slide out. Not allowing myself even the slightest glance at his face, I slam the door shut and head inside.

And just like every time I’ve ever gone out with Jace, I end the night wondering where exactly I went wrong.

🏷️/ @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo @clemlament @fwskullz

@luv4kozume @xoxo4chrisss @lacysturniolo

207 notes · View notes

adelheidvonschicksal · 1 month

Text

⋆｡°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?

“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”

Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.

Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.

Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work

A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.

“Do you want to hang out at my place?”

Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.

“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.”

Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?”

There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.

“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”

The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.

“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn.

“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”

When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor.

When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite.

“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie.

“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle.

“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.”

“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”

“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess.

As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.

“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.

“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face.

And, well, Xavier…

“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”

Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.

You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.

You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.

The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.

So, you choose to wake him up.

“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.

Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.

Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.

“Mm…what?” he groans out.

Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”

A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.

“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”

Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.

“Red…” he mumbles.

You repeat after him. “Red?”

“Red…extra spicy.”

You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”

Oh. The hot pot restaurant.

“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.

“Yes?” you ask.

Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.

“Come home…with me…”

There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.

Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?

These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?

The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.

There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.

When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.

“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.

“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”

Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”

“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”

“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?

“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.

His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”

You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.

“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.

“I did? What did I get?”

“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”

“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”

“I do?”

He nods, his expression softening.

”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice.

“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.

What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.

Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.

Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.

“Sleeping is much better with someone.”

“How do you know?” you mumble against him.

“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”

”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.

Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.

When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.

“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “Real well actually."

Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.

“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy.

“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”

For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.

“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”

Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”

“If we watch it together…”

He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.”

“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily.

“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”

“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you.

“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”

“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”

When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat.

“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”

Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head.

“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”

You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.

Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now.

It's late when it happens.

The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.

The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.

It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.

He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.

Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.

Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.

You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.

“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.

“You always use that excuse.”

“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.

Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.

“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”

“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”

“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”

There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.

You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.

It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.

However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.

“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”

“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.

“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”

“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”

His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face.

“I might end up falling asleep here.”

It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.

It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.

Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?

But it was his choice to agree.

Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.

When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.

“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”

The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.

“About what?”

The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.

“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”

You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.

“How would it be easier?”

“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”

There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.

But then, Xavier smiles.

“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”

Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.

“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”

“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.

“Do roommates sleep together too?”

There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”

“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”

“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”

“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”

“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”

Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.

“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”

Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”

He nods.

“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”

His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.

“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."

“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”

“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.

You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.

“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”

Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.

Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.

“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”

“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.

“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”

“And then?”

“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.

“Then, happily ever after?”

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”

Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”

You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”

Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."

"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"

You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.

“Good night, roommate.”

“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.

Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.

When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.

“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.

#xavier x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #xavier fluff #xavier

343 notes · View notes

nolita-fairytale · 10 months

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter three

summary: while you and luca seek inspiration outside of the kitchen, you finally share a piece of yourself with him.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: thank you again for all the shares, reblogs, comments! let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part two | masterlist | part four

It’s been a month or so since Luca’s tasting menu for one, and he’s been nothing but a good thing in your life: a friend, a collaborator, a regular diner who gives fantastic feedback. You’ve become fast friends, and after what he did for you, how could you not? You find yourself spending days off with him at a more frequent pace as of late: enjoying cups of coffee, perusing bookstores, following Luca on bicycle as he shows you the city’s lesser known, yet spectacular bakeries. He gives you a heads up when he can’t make it into the restaurant, but most Saturdays, he continues to make his regular Saturday 7 pm date week after week.

Some days you make him something off-menu – something you’re working on, something you’re recipe testing, a dish you’ve bounced ideas around with him over – and other days he’s eager to try whatever new thing you’ve just added to your menu, insisting for you not to go through the trouble of whipping up anything else. It’s a special relationship – something only food-people can understand – and you’re glad that Luca entered your life.

“Hey, your boyfriend’s here,” Jesper says, interrupting your dinner prep as he grabs your attention.

“My what?” you ask him, with no clue in the world what he’s talking about.

“Luca,” he answers plainly, as you and Mathilde both exchange a look.

“Shut up, Jesper,” you both snap in unison, shooting a glare his way.

You exchange another look with Mathilde, almost as if to say: you good? She nods towards the front of house as if to say: yes, I’ve got this covered.

“Yeah, give me a second and I’ll be right out,” you finally direct towards Jesper, as you put down your knife. You reach a stopping point, wiping your hands on your apron, as you leave behind the Mikkelson twins bickering about what Jesper’s previous comment.

Something about ‘you baby her’ from Jesper and a ‘you’re going to scare her away and this is a good thing, you idiot’ from Mathilde in return. At least that’s what you’re able to make out from your basic Danish language skills (you’re working on it, you swear, and right now you know enough to get by in the kitchen and that’s enough)!

You spot Luca with a package tucked underneath his arm as he leans up against the front door, waiting for you.

“Hi,” you greet him, choosing to ignore the fact that your heart skips a beat as soon as you see him.

“Hey. I was on my way to the post office around the corner. Thought I’d stop in and say hello,” he replies with that ever-charming crooked smile of his.

“No, yeah, I-. I’m glad you did,” you return, unable to hide the smile that spreads across your lips.

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it, especially if this is somehow something you’ve made up entirely in your head, but it seems as if Luca’s found different ways – different excuses – to stop in more and more frequently as of late.

“What’s in the box?” you ask him, curiously, gesturing to the package he holds underneath his arm.

“Remember that American I was telling you about? The one who came to stage?” he asks, looking down for a moment.

“Yeah.”

“His restaurant opening is this week. Wanted to send this off. As a gift.”

“That’s kind of you.”

He blushes, just for a moment.

“Think we’ve lost touch with the art of a handwritten note. A novelty these days,” he says, with a quick raise of both eyebrows.

“Absolutely. I mean… it worked on me,” you chuckle, immediately regretting what’s come out of your mouth.

You’re not sure why you said it and what exactly it is that worked on you you’re referring to, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Yeah, I’ve got him to thank, really,” he chuckles, almost shyly. Taking a bolder approach as he continues with, “For reminding me to walk the walk. For bringing me to you.”

You pause, your heart catching in your throat. In the event of fight, flight, and freeze, it really feels like you’re choosing ‘freeze’ whenever Luca’s been around.

“I bet you’re a really great teacher,” are the words that fall out of your mouth, immediately regretting them for how silly your response sounds.

“So was he,” he parries back.

“Sure,” you nod, still reeling from whatever the hell came out of your mouth a moment ago.

Your disconcerting slip-of-the-tongue seems to leave an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, tip-toeing around each other, unsure of who should make the next move.

“Anyways,” Luca clears his throat, collecting himself. “I ehm, gotta get going. Gotta get back to the restaurant here in a few. It was good seeing you today.”

“You too,” is all you reply, frozen and stuck in your own head.

What the hell is wrong with you? You think to yourself as you watch him go.

“Luca, wait,” you say, pushing through the front door to your restaurant as you chase after him.

He turns back towards you, a kind of ‘did I leave something behind?’ look on his face.

“I can’t stop thinking…” you trail off, taking a breath before you continue your sentence, leaving Luca unsure of what you’ll say next.

“...about that dish you’re stuck on. And about what you said.. about finding inspiration. Being open to… you know, what’s out there.”

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling at the thought of you thinking of him.

“Yeah I… I think I have an idea,” you declare boldly.

And it may be a baby step, but it’s a baby step towards him, towards who knows what, towards whatever’s ahead of you.

-------------------------------

You pitch the idea to Luca – to explore different mediums of art as a way of seeking out inspiration (and maybe it’s just another excuse to see him too) – and after a few weeks of busy schedules, covering at the restaurant for coworkers-on-holiday, and lining up days off, you and Luca finally make it happen. It’s been over a year now, since the restaurant opened – and almost two since you came to Copenhagen in pursuit of a dream.

“Wait a second. So you haven’t read Rene Redzepi’s A Work In Progress?” Luca asks incredulously looking for confirmation of the obscene tidbit of information you’ve just revealed to him.

“No,” you admit, guiltily stealing a glance his way.

“My god, it’s fascinating! I’ll have to lend you my copy,” he charges forward, solving the problem at hand without question.

“I’d like that,” you smile, almost to yourself as you think about how much you like being around Luca. “And I’d love to hear about your time at noma – what working under him was like.”

“Uh… that’s maybe a different story for a different time,” he deflects with a chuckle, shooting you a look. “Perhaps after a few pints.”

“Heard,” you nod in understanding, turning to him as the two of you find a good place to post up in the park. You and Luca set your lawn chairs down in Kongens Have, or rather The King’s Garden, right behind a row of other lawn chairs set up that face the tent-covered stage.

“It’s good to see you,” you finally say, really taking him in.

“It’s good to see you too. Sorry it’s just working out now,” Luca apologizes emphatically.

“No, it’s okay! We uh… we’re both busy. We both run restaurants. I mean-, I’m surprised we figured it out in time for the show,” you reply, easily letting him off the hook.

“This is pretty cool,” he says, taking in your surroundings. “First time here?”

“Yeah I-, I didn’t make it when I first moved here… and then this time last year I had just opened the restaurant so… yeah first time. You?”

“Yeah, first time,” he echoes with a reassuring nod.

“Really? I just thought-, well, I thought Copenhagen Jazz Fest was like a huge deal here,” you inquire.

He shrugs, responding with, “I reckon you’re a big jazz fan then, eh?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“Have you always been into it or-?” he questions curiously.

“Uh, no. I… my ex,” you hesitate, figuring you should tell Luca sooner rather than later. “... my ex-husband is a music historian so… I got really into it when we first started seeing each other.

He balks, only for a moment, hoping you don’t notice the strong reaction that briefly flashes across his face.

“You were married?” he asks, barely able to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah,” you admit, nervously.

He waits a beat.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asks carefully, with an honesty and genuine curiosity in his voice.

“I-I don’t mind. As long as you don’t-,” you stammer, only a little taken aback by the grace he’s shown you.

“Please,” he encourages, listening carefully. “I like learning about you.”

You freeze for a moment, searching for where to begin, and more than anything, in awe of Luca.

“We met right after I moved back home to Boston – right after I finished school,” you begin, watching him carefully for any kind of reaction.

“And it was good. For a long time. But after a few years of being together, his mom got sick and uh… we both decided that we wanted to move to London so that he could help his sisters take care of her. It was just easier… if we got married… with immigration and stuff.”

“But you loved him?”

“Yes,” you answer. “I think… we knew we wanted to stay together… so we took the leap, unafraid of the fact that everything has its expiration date too. Ours just uh, came a little sooner than we expected.”

“What happened?” Luca asks.

You chuckle dryly, racking your brain for the answer to a question you’ve asked yourself a million times.

“Um… moving back home changed a lot, I think. And we met when we were so young that I don’t think by the time we were caring for a sick parent together, we realized we didn’t really even know who we were anymore,” you explain, putting words to a feeling that’s live in your heart for so long – long enough that you’ve barely shared them with anyone else.

“And… I was living in a whole new country without any kind of familiarity. I was homesick, and all of it – it was just really hard on the both of us,” you think through as you speak.

“I think it just made us realize that we had changed… and that maybe we weren’t the same people who fell in love all those years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Luca apologizes, sending you an empathetic glance.

“It’s okay,” you’re quick to reassure him. “It was tough. Don’t get me wrong. Like… really tough. But nothing… horribly wrong happened. Some people can grow together.” You pause, only for a moment. “We didn’t. We… weren’t those people, I guess. So we grew apart.”

Luca takes a few moments to process what you’ve just told him with a pensive look on his face – and you can’t blame him.

He waits a beat, before returning his gaze to you, a respect for you in his eyes: for your honesty, for your story, for your resilience.

“Are you still in love with him?” he finally asks.

It’s a good question – an interesting one – and even more interesting that he asked in the first place.

“There are parts of me that will always love him,” you share, the vulnerability coming more naturally to you as Luca makes you feel more and more comfortable. “He’ll always be a part of me and… I still keep in touch with his family, you know. They became… my family too.” You pause, knowing that you can say this next part with full conviction:

“But to answer your question, no. I'm not… I’m not in love with him anymore.”

Luca nods slowly, almost as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind – to take it back – to say something that convinces him otherwise. But you don’t, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to help himself from giving in to things he’s been feeling for you.

“I hope you don’t mind that I asked,” Luca finally says.

“No I-,” you begin. “I’m glad you did. It feels nice… having someone ask.”

He smiles, “Like I said. I like learning about you.”

And with that, the two of you settle into your lawn chairs as the performers make their way onto the stage. There’s a shift – within the crowd, between you and Luca – as the musicians take their places, ready to perform. With the first few notes, the tuning of a guitar, a few keys on the piano, you feel yourself relax a little, encompassed by the warmth of the Copenhagen summer night.

It’s almost as if telling Luca, sharing this with him, has lifted a weight off of your shoulders – no longer hanging over your head as you go back and forth of when to tell him, and if you should tell him, and thoughts of ‘why the hell are you worrying about this it’s not like he wants to know’.

Except he did and he does because he wants to know you.

And tonight, because he asked, because he’s proven to be a great listener, and because he looks so damn good doing it, you might just let him.

-------------------------------

a/n: ok how the hell are we feeling now that we know a little more about reader, her past, and why she's been holding back?! i honestly wanted to write a character that felt fresh, and different from me/my make my heart surrender character SO yeah, this where we're at --second chances at love and a story about opening up again -- with more to come.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

596 notes · View notes

harleehazbinfics · 3 months

Text

Home is where my heart is.

Chapter 2: It was a date? Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 918 A/N: I'll make a separate post for what I envisioned Miledy to be, those would be early designs tho.

(edited as of Feb 20)

“Thanks again for coming, Al. Thanks for the radio too, it must’ve been quite expensive,” I said to him with a small smile. We were currently in a coffee shop, where I invited him as a thank you for taking me around the city for the best stores and sights in town.

“It’s nothing grand, it was my pleasure! Besides, I was the one that asked to come with you either way,” he replied with his grin before drinking his coffee. “I just hope you would listen to me while I’m on air.”

“I wouldn’t miss it!” I replied happily giving him a radiant smile.

Alastor seemed to enjoy the sight and happy hum and continued, “Speaking of which, darlin’. I wanted to ask you to sing a few songs during my radio show. I quite enjoy your songs and fantastic singing voice; it definitely has the potential to go big! And why not invite you over, it’s a win-win-win for us!”

I was shocked for a moment and rambled on mostly to myself, “W-well, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m good enough to do that and specially on your own show I couldn’t--.”

I stopped when he took my hand pat it, encasing my hands with his large ones. “Calm down, sweetheart. I won’t force you if you don’t want to. I just wanted to open an opportunity for you, I didn’t to put you in a tight spot there. I apologize.”

I looked at him with grateful eyes with how understanding he was and nodded my head.

“Just tell me when you’re ready, darling. That offer is always open,” he encouraged with his enthusiastic theatrics. He then looks at his watch and announces, “Oh would you look at that! It’s almost time! We should hurry if we want to catch up.”

I stood up with him confused as he escorted me outside and hailed a taxi for us to get in. “Where are we going, Al?”

“That’s a surprise,” he whispered with half-lidded eyes and his easy grin.

Flustered, I turned my head to the streets and watch as the people pass by. Eventually, halted by the seaside. The golden hue flushed the world around us, making everything look magical.

I went and held the silver railing and simply uttered, “Wow.”

Hearing nothing from the usually talkative radio host, I looked over to Alastor who looked over the distance with melancholy hazing his eyes. Thinking over what happened today and the day I first met him, I started to reconsider what he said at the café. I wanted to do something for him for all the things he had given me.

“Hey, Al?” I called to him somewhat embarrassed.

He turns to me and puts on a lazy grin, replying, “Yes, sweetheart?”

“About the offer…” I look away from his eyes and breathed in, “I want to do it.”

His eyes visibly light up and gives me a hug, making me go wide eyed from the sudden show of affection. I didn’t think of him as the type of guy to be all touchy-feely. Before I could even return it, he unlatches off me and holds my shoulders eagerly.

“Wonderful! You won’t regret it. I’ll put on a show for you in no time!” he responds happily.

I give him a wry smile and laugh, before looking back at the shore reliving through what I went through today, while Alastor placed his arm around my shoulders quite intimately. I looked at the hand on my shoulder and back to his face and laughed.

“You know, if someone were to look at us right now and all the things we did together. I’d think they’d surely assume that we were on a date,” I jested, nudging my shoulder at him.

He doesn’t say anything at first but the counters, “Funnily enough, I always thought that were the case.” I look at him confused making him pet my head, “I won’t deny that I hold an attraction towards you, and neither will I deny that today’s plans were exactly a date.”

“S-so you.. to me??” I stuttered bewildered that someone as him would like a simple girl like me.

“But of course!” he explains, “The moment I saw you in the club you’ve already caught my eye, and having to share a two, few many drinks with you. You are quite a rarity in an age like this.”

“B-but what if I-,” I started feeling my anxiety get to me, try to get away from his grip.

“My dear, what if are only figurative. Nothing good will ever come out of overthinking,” he tried holding my hands trying to soothe me.

I took a big breath in and asked, “Are you sure you’d want me? I’m not a good person, Alastor. I mess up, make mistakes and I’m a coward.”

Looking down at our hands, I missed the mysterious haze over his eyes and replied, “So am I. I like you for who you are, Miledy. Whether you stumble and fall or flourish and grow, I want to be the first person there to pick you up and support you.”

I smiled at him, finding comfort in his words and nodded my head, “Okay. I want to there for you too, Al.”

“Lovely. How about I take you home now? Our outing has gotten a little bit late,” he changed the topic.

“Alright,” I answer happily letting him escort me while talking all the way home.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin niffty #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie

214 notes · View notes

j-niret · 8 months

Text

dollface. | hhj

✩‧₊˚ pairing — hyunjin x f!reader genre — established relationship, newfound romance, sappy love <33 warnings — tooth rotting fluff, smut, love making, oral (f. receiving), piv, breeding kink, praise kink, cute hand holding during s*x >.<

a/n: ahhhh, i’m finally back w another post !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i feel saur bad for not posting in a while but i’ve been super busy w school and other stuff ughhh. but i had lots of fun writing this and it was supposed to be WAY shorter than this but uh… got carried away ig? lmaooo. n e ways, enjoyy and lmk your thoughts on this, muahhhh

wc — 2.2k

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

there’s nothing quite like being passionately in love. being with that special someone who you call your one and only, your other half. the one you rush home to every night after a long day at work, venting as they listen with open ears. the one who knows you better than themselves and remembers every tiny detail you tell them. the person you want to spend the rest of eternity and take your very last breath with.

you couldn’t picture this experience with anyone else but hyunjin. everyday felt like a new chapter of a fairytale when you’re with him, his love was profound, gracious, and so thoughtful— he spoiled you immensely with affection. hyunjin is a patient and understanding lover, he’ll always do things on your terms and never pressures you into something you aren’t comfortable with. his kind and caring nature is what drew you to him in the beginning, he had a timid personality at first but it didn’t take long for him to open up and reveal his true inner self around you. in his eyes, everything felt so easy with you, as if he already knew you in a past life; it almost scared him how quickly his feelings grew. hyunjin couldn’t help it though, within only three weeks of knowing you he asked you to be his girlfriend and the rest was history. a full month has passed and though you’re both still technically in the “honeymoon phase” you don’t think this feeling will ever truly dissipate.

what you love most about hyunjin is his attentiveness, he wasn’t lying when he said he knew you in a past life; his ability to read you like a novel came as second nature to him. he could almost tell instantly when you were upset or feeling down, and he knew exactly how to cheer you up, he’s partially the reason why your confidence has gotten so much better lately. hyunjin makes you feel more than wanted, he provides you with constant reassurance and cares more about you than his own self. “you’re the reason i keep going, my reason to strive to become a better person. i don’t know where i’d be without you baby.” he admitted in the first month of dating, most people would be scared off by how intensely he feels when he’s in love, but you? you embraced it dearly, you embraced all of him. the bond you two shared was like no other, he was meant to be yours and you were meant to be his— souls connected by fate. before you met hyunjin, the concept of soulmates seemed unbelievably cliche, but now, you can’t comprehend how you once lived a life without knowing him.

hyunjin would move mountains for you, he’d do absolutely any and everything to make you happy. you like to believe the relationship is an equal 50/50 ratio but hyunjin is beyond whipped for you, the first thought in his mind when waking up every morning is how beautiful you look when you’re peacefully asleep, making sure he doesn’t cause too much movement to wake you up. as soon as you do though, he’s instantly all over you, showering you with his sweet honey-glazed words and kisses softer than velvet. beautiful, captivating, endearing; those are what you’d use to describe the way hyunjin shows his love. he loves unapologetically and has no shame in it, he doesn’t care if he gets called a “simp” for wanting to please his girl— people only see your relationship from an outside lens, they’ll never understand and it didn’t matter to either of you. hyunjin is a lovesick puppy for you, always craving your touch when you aren’t around, but as soon as he’s with you he’s all yours.

“baby, you know you can use me whenever you’re stressed, you look a bit worn out and could use some much needed relaxation. tell me what you want, just say the words, i’m here to please you dollface.” god… he knew exactly how to make you melt after a tiring day of work, and that nickname; dollface, the way it rolled off his tongue so elegantly made you a dripping mess. “y-you don’t need to, you already do so much for me hyunnie… i appreciate how much you wanna take care of me.” you sheepishly respond, hyunjin wasn’t too keen on your answer though. “i know i don’t necessarily need to, but i really want to. let me be of use to you princess, please, just wanna take care of you, anything you want and i’ll do it. there’s no one in this world i’d do this for besides you, i wholeheartedly believe i was put on this earth to be with you.” his words pulled you in like a magnetic force, easily getting you to cave to his desires, who were you to deny your angelic entity of a boyfriend? you let his hands freely roam your body, noticing the faint black nail lacquer coated on his fingertips as he palms your breasts outside the skimpy tank top you wore underneath your work shirt. hyunjin’s plush pink lips connect with yours for a moment, relishing in the sweet taste of you as he pinches your lightly covered nipple. “m’gonna make you feel so amazing… you’ll feel like you’re floating after this, trust me dollface.”

the petname he gave you never left his vocabulary since the day he first said it. he’d say it in the most sensual tone, you never realized you might have a voice kink until you met hyunjin. one moment you were kissing him slowly then the next he was below you, in between your precious thighs. his tongue felt like heaven, gliding the wet muscle against your sensitive bundle of nerves, letting you gush all over his face and chin. hyunjin couldn’t help himself, he loved feeling your legs shake around him, hearing the subtle whimpers and cries escape your lips— this is what keeps him going. “hmmmnn..” he’d hum against your aching core, sending a vibration of tingles to your spine. your hips involuntarily buck into him, grinding against his mouth as he sucks on your puffy clit, making you moan out his name in utter utopia. “hyunjin… hyunjin… mmphh fuck..” eyes rolling to the back of your head from the way he’s french kissing your cunt. hyunjin loves taking his sweet time with you, he’s never been the type to rush anything, he prefers making love over just pure “fucking”, he sees no point in sex if it’s not meaningful to him. you can feel the passion through him as he went down on you, eating your pussy like it’s his last meal on earth. your toes curled from the intense pleasure, tears almost forming in the corner of your eyes from feeling slightly overwhelmed— you’ll survive though, you always do.

“mmm… shit! t-think m’gonna cum ssooon hyune.” you mewl, body heat rising faster as you feel yourself getting close, your hands land on top of hyunjin’s head, lacing your fingers through to grab a fistful of his soft chocolate brown hair. “yeah? gonna come on my tongue like a good girl for me?” he pants heavily before diving back in, this time picking up a faster pace, your body felt like it was burning from the inside. “ahhh, fuck yes, hyunjin!” arching your back from the sensation, vision going blank for a moment as you come undone for the first time tonight. it’s no surprise hyunjin can make you orgasm so easily for him, he already knows your body so well— better than any man has ever attempted trying in the past, no one compares to him. hyunjin lifts his head up from between your legs, looking up at you with those endearing puppy dog eyes, face glistening with your wetness as he crawls over to give you a heartwarming kiss. you wanted nothing more than to be filled up completely by him, the crave for his cock gets more intense when you feel the massive boner he’s sporting underneath the tight boxer briefs he’s wearing. “hyunjin..” you whimper pathetically for him, “yes baby?” “i need you inside… p-please..” you were being more than needy right now but he wasn’t going to make you beg for it, he never did, he was just as willing to give you his cock just as much as you wanted it. “only since you asked so nicely, i’ll give whatever you want when you talk to me like that. i’ll fill this cute little hole up and stuff you with all my cum dollface.” his cock twitched at the thought of breeding you, he wants you to have every last drop of him inside.

“sss.. ah shiiit, so fuckin’ tight.” hyunjin grunts from the way his cock is getting swallowed by your heat, never keeping his eyes off watching while sliding it in. your legs wrap around his waist securely, mouth going permanently agape as he buries himself deep within. as soon as he picked up a steady rhythm his lips go to your neck, kissing and nipping at it delicately, fucking you so nice and slow. his hips moved gracefully, languidly pumping in and out while leaving small hickeys to your neck and chest. your warmth made his brain short circuit multiple times— one more stroke and he might just lose all consciousness. hyunjin couldn’t stop himself from admiring the way you looked right now, even during this he finds your beauty absolutely astonishing. he wants to hold you so bad, more than anything, but he can’t do that now, so what’s the next best option? holding your hand of course. hyunjin’s hand creeps up beside yours, gently taking it into his grasp, intertwining your fingers. he thrusts into you a bit a harder this time, but not too hard to the point where you’d want to scream, just softly moaning out his name like a sweet lullaby. “i love you y/n.” hyunjin murmurs out, not fully realizing what he just said. this was the first time he’s ever said this, he’s always thought it for quite some time but he dared not to say until the time was right… well, until now.

you were a little taken aback from his confession, since you two have only been dating for a month but you can’t deny that you love him too. you’ve never felt so strongly about someone in such a short span of time, let alone finding your soulmate you want to the spend of your life with. a loud sigh releases from you as he angles his hips differently, providing you with much deeper strokes. “i-i love- fuck.. i love y-you too hyune.” you croak, barely able to speak from how good he’s making you feel, you squeeze his hand tighter, eyelids momentarily fluttering shut from so much pleasure. hyunjin was ecstatic to hear you loved him back, he knew since the day he met you that he’d end up falling for you, how could he not honestly? he was so happy he could cry, his emotions were all over the place but right now, he wanted to give you what he’s promised since this started. “ughh… ‘m really close babe..” he mumbles out, slowing down slightly as his strokes get sloppier, reaching out his free hand to rub gentle circles on your clit. you don’t say anything in response, instead you draw out more semi-loud moans, biting your lip as you feel your climax approaching too. everything around you felt fuzzy, you continued whimpering out, gripping his hand tightly, clenching around his cock as your soul cries out in triumph. hyunjin let’s out a deep guttural groan, releasing his milky white essence inside, both bodies trembling from the aftermath.

“so fucking beautiful,” he lowly husks, “already came twice for me good job babygirl.” his praises made you feel so loved and appreciated, literally the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for. “do you really love me?” you hesitantly ask, anyone can say anything during sex but your actions afterwards is what truly matters. hyunjin’s eyebrow furrows confusedly, “yes, of course i meant it, i’ve never told anyone i loved them before. that word holds… a lot of meaning to me.” he’s never felt anything close to this before, he knows this is real love. “god, you’re so damn perfect.” the compliments wouldn’t stop, he could go on the biggest tirades about how much you mean to him. your nose scrunches at his sweetness, giggling a bit, “you’re so cute.” your lips curl into a dainty smile, mind still feeling hazy from your post orgasm. hyunjin leans into you closely, staring at your pretty lips before planting a chaste kiss to them. nothing can compare to this, being young and in love. there’s nothing better than creating memories with the man you want to be with for the rest of your life, start a family and grow old with. only one person you could ever see a future with and that was hyunjin. he’s more than sure about you too, he’s even more excited for what’s to come, ready to embark on this long journey of love. he attempts to get impossibly closer than he already is, wrapping his arms around your frame and kissing your forehead, “you’re way cuter, dollface.”

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x female reader #hyunjin x f reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fic #skz imagines #hyunjin fic

901 notes · View notes

wheresarizona · 8 months

Text

Learning to Live Part 23

summary: Javier is living the fucking dream and has never been happier with the woman he planned to marry—until the mistakes of his past are brought to light, and his world comes crashing down.

rating: E (18+! Age gap (about ten years), Soft Javier Peña, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña, explicit smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), masturbating (f), deepthroating, spanking, dirty talk (he talks you through touching yourself), praise kink, breeding kink, spit mention, mentions of assplay, canon typical violence (Javier punches someone), angst, Chucho being the best dad, Javier being cute with baby animals, Javier saying very romantic things during sex)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 12.1k+

a/n: I’m just going to say I’m sorry. This will be part 1 of 2 for the Colombia arc. This chapter is all in Javi’s POV, and the next will be in reader’s. Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The fifth of November landed on a Thursday this year, and the temperatures were finally beginning to come down—just not enough for Javier to turn off the air conditioning in his truck or wear his suit jacket on his drive, the navy blue garment hanging over the back of the middle seat with his burgundy-colored tie.

The news radio station was a low chatter while he had his left palm gripping the steering wheel, the other holding up his Nokia cellphone to his ear, waiting for the other person to pick up.

Ring.

“Murphy,” his old partner, Steve, answered.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, Jav—it’s earlier than you usually call. Are you off work already?” For the other man, it was a little after five o’clock his time, and from the sound of it, he was on the road heading home to his wife and kids.

Javier’s hand squeezed so tightly on the wheel it made the leather creak at imagining getting to do the same, his heart picking up in pace and a smile curling up on his lips that someday he would.

On Thursdays, he called Steve when he got off work—he did it when he worked for his dad, talking to his best friend while having a cold beer in the kitchen or cooling off from the hot day on the couch in the living room, always checking up on how Steve, Connie, and their three kids were doing. Once he started dating the woman who’d be his wife, the phone calls started taking place on his drive from the ranch to her apartment, then from his job at the Sheriff’s office to their shared apartment.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I had something to do and couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of there. I spent my whole fucking day prepping for that stupid fucking meeting tomorrow.”

The one with the DEA.

The one with the DEA that he didn’t want to have.

Communication with them over the phone was fine because it was easy to get out of the calls—feigning he had meetings to attend, or another call coming through from his boss, or he just didn’t answer and let it go to voicemail since he recognized the numbers.

And maybe there might have been a time or three when he just hung up on them simply out of annoyance.

But tomorrow was in person, and he had no choice except to sit through the asshole of an agent questioning every little fucking thing about the busts the narcotics unit made and having Javier try to explain why they still hadn’t found out how the drugs were getting smuggled into their region. He didn’t understand why he was getting grilled about it when there were multiple agencies in the area, including the fucking DEA, trying to figure it out. He knew this meeting would put the irritating shit he sat through as attaché in Colombia to shame.

“I still can’t believe he’s asking so many goddamn questions,” Steve replied. “You’ve been handing him busts on a silver platter, and if I were him, I’d be thanking you, not giving you so much shit.”

Javier sighed. “Yeah, you’d fucking think. Why does this guy even give a fuck about me?”

He could hear the smile in his friend’s voice. “Like I told you the first time you called about this asshole: it's his first big assignment, and The Javier-fuckin’-Peña is one of his contacts—” Javier scoffed. “He’s just trying too fucking hard and is jealous of all the arrests you’ve made. Plus, you work for a law enforcement agency, Javi. The DEA has relationships with law enforcement agencies, and yours is smack dab on the border of a country with a history of smuggling, so you’re gonna be popular whether you like it or not.”

“I fuckin’ hate it,” he grumbled.

Steve chuckled. “I know, but suck it up, and tomorrow, scare the kid shitless with that mean ol’ glare of yours so he’ll leave you the fuck alone.”

His eyebrows rose, nodding his head.

“That’s definitely an idea...”

His friend laughed.

“I’m serious,” Javier said. “He wouldn’t take the fucking hint when I hung up on him. I could just… scare him a little.” Frowning, he whispered, “Mi Cielito can’t know.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Steve chuckled. “Things still good with you guys?”

The thought of her had him going soft, picturing her perfectly in his mind.

He smiled. “Things are going so fucking good.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Jav. She seems like a great girl.”

Taking a deep breath, he slowly let it out. “She’s fucking amazing, man—perfect, beautiful, wonderful. I love her so much and can’t wait to marry her.”

“Then propose to her already.” That made Javier frown. “You’ve known for months now that she’s the one, and you’re holding off, for what? A future date, when you can just do what you really wanna fucking do and marry her whenever you want. You’re not beholden to that date, Javi. Do what makes you happy.”

“When did you become a fucking motivational speaker?”

“When I became a dad—gotta give fatherly advice and pep talks. When you have a kid, you’ll become one, too.”

That made him smile again, thinking of his conversations with his father and how the older man always had wisdom to bestow upon him or knew exactly what to say. It was the same with his mom, almost as if once you became a parent, a plethora of knowledge was imparted on you to pass on to your child when, in actuality, it was just your life experience you were using to make sure your kid succeeded in life as best they could.

“I guess I will,” he replied. “Speaking of kids. How are mis sobrinos (niece and nephews)?”

The Murphys had three children.

Olivia was their eldest, who they adopted as a baby nine years ago in Colombia while Steve was working down there. Steve Jr., or Stevie, was three and their only biological child. Nathaniel, Nate for short, was just adopted the prior year and had turned one not too long ago.

Their kids (who could speak) called Javier ‘tío Javi,’ and he loved them all like they were his blood, sending presents on every birthday and Christmas that he double-checked with Connie they’d enjoy. Before the Thursday phone calls, it was a random day of the week calls when Javier had time while in the middle of trying to take down the Cali cartel, and they were a nice reprieve from the stress, especially when Olivia excitedly told him about her school day.

He spent a lot of time with them when he first got back to the States and even got to meet their new baby, but it’s been months since his last visit.

“They’re good. Pretty sure Olivia and Stevie are still on sugar highs from all the candy they got on Halloween.” That was the previous Sunday.

“What’d they dress up as?”

“Olivia was some princess from a cartoon movie with a beast, and she wore a pretty yellow dress—”

“Belle,” he interrupted. “She was Belle from Beauty and the Beast.”

“Yeah! That’s it. Wait. Why do you know that?”

“Lucky guess—what were Stevie and Nate?”

“Stevie was some blue spotted dog, and Nate was a lion.”

Javier was frowning.

He never celebrated Halloween growing up since Día de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) overshadowed it, but if it was something his future wife wanted to do with their kids, he’d like them to have some kind of theme for their costumes… If he could get them to.

“I can’t wait to see the pictures,” he said, which was true. He kept all of the letters Connie sent with photos of their family while he’d been in Colombia and after he returned home. His girlfriend suggested putting them in an album after he’d taken her to the ranch and pulled out the small box containing the collection—so they got one that now lived on the bookshelf in their living room, hanging some of the pictures on their walls.

“Bring your girlfriend over here for Thanksgiving. We’d love to have you both.”

“Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got plans with my family.”

All his family members who lived in Laredo were getting together at his tía María’s, who had the biggest house, a good-sized patio space, and backyard to accommodate the dozens of adults and children who’d be in attendance to eat. He and Cielito would be spending the night before and morning of making pies and side dishes at the request of his three tías.

“Alright. But remember, our door is always open, and we’re dying to meet the woman that’s gonna make an honest man out of you.”

He snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re thinking sometime next month.”

“Any time is fine.”

“You want us to visit that bad?”

“Since the moment she found out you had a girlfriend, Connie has been on my ass about getting you to bring her here. For the love of god, Javier, please come visit us so she’ll leave me the fuck alone.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you. Any time, Javi.”

“Probably right before my birthday.”

“Any time, just get your ass over here.”

“Will do.”

“I’m home, so I’ll talk to you later.”

“Give Connie and the kids my love.”

“Of course. Tell the future Mrs. Javier Peña we’re all excited to meet her.”

Javier smiled. “I will.”

“Bye, you asshole.”

“Adiós, pendejo (Goodbye, asshole).”

Clicking the end call button, he set the phone in the seat next to him and turned back up the radio, the top news stories being all about the latest midterm elections.

Minutes later, gravel crackled and popped under the truck tires as he drove down the long driveway past his father’s house to the back, parking in the empty spot beside his dad’s rig that, since he’d started driving, had always unofficially been his.

His door squealed when he opened it, his feet hitting the ground as he got out of his seat with his aviators sitting on the bridge of his nose, his phone put back in his pocket—the first few buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, taking a second to roll the sleeves up his forearms to make him more comfortable. Lifting his left wrist, his eyes narrowed to get a better read of the silver watch face, seeing he only had an hour before his future wife would be expecting him home, and by now, his family out here should’ve returned from checking on the herd of cattle; his father would either be in the small office across from the house doing paperwork or shirking his responsibilities elsewhere in the vicinity.

Javier went with his gut on where to find Chucho, the truck door slamming shut, the small rocks crunching under his steps as he made his way around the back of the vehicle heading toward the barns.

Passing the large paddock, all the horses, including his own, Sombra, and his tío’s, Enrique the Asshole, were stretching their legs and roaming around. His attention moved ahead to his primo (cousin) Diego, coming out of the new barn, wheeling a wheelbarrow full of hay his way.

The younger of his uncle’s sons got the Peña genes—brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin. The oldest, Sebastián, had a striking resemblance to his tío but was light-skinned and green-eyed like his Spanish mother. Their baby sister, Alma, and tío Ángel’s pride and joy was a mix of her parents—her mother’s beauty and eyes with her father’s tan skin and brown hair.

A beaming smile appeared on Diego’s face when he spotted Javier.

“¿Qué tal, Javi (What’s up, Javi)?” he asked as he approached. “¿Dónde está tu esposa (Where is your wife)?” he asked, looking around for Cielito and making Javier grin.

“Mi futura esposa está en nuestra casa (My future wife is at home). Estoy aquí para ver a mi papá (I’m here to see my dad). Necesito hablar con él (I need to talk to him).”

“Oh, él está allí en el granero de ganado (Oh, he’s over at the cattle barn),” he said, pointing in the direction with his thumb.

That was just what Javier suspected after something his dad said the previous day.

“Gracias, primo (Thank you, cousin). Tengo prisa (I’m in a hurry). Te veré el domingo en casa de tía María (I will see you Sunday at aunt Maria’s). ¡Adiós (Bye)!”

“¡Hasta luego (See you later)!”

His strides were long as he made his way toward the older barn, its wooden exterior wearing a new coat of bright red paint and the trim snow white. His father was standing at the pen’s fence, his straw cowboy hat shielding the sun’s rays as usual, holding a small plastic bucket in one of his hands, the other feeding carrots to the animals. Javier smiled that his assumption of what Chucho would be doing was correct as he approached, hearing his dad softly cooing words in Spanish.

“Stop spoiling mis hijas (my daughters),” Javier said, getting closer. At the sound of his voice, the two calves came bounding toward him on the other side of the fence, shoving their heads between the metal bars at him. He chuckled, crouching as he gave Daphne and Velma pets, their hair soft under his palms. “Hola, mis preciosas (Hello, my lovelies),” his tone was sweet. “Tan lindas que estan (You two are so cute). ¡Están creciendo tanto (You’re growing so much)! ¿Me extrañaron (Did you miss me)?”

At dinner the night before, Chucho had told them he was planning on bringing the girls in for a long weekend since they weren’t treated like the rest of the herd and didn’t live out on the pastures with them 24/7. His dad sometimes had them stay in the pen at the barn or hang out in his backyard. They were kept more like pets than cattle and spoiled as such.

He could hear his father’s footsteps coming near.

“I will spoil mis nietas bovinas (my bovine granddaughters) as much as I like since you haven’t given me any human ones to spoil… yet,” Chucho replied, holding the bucket toward him.

Javier groaned, this being a constant conversation they were having. “I know, I know, you’re not getting any younger—it’s gonna happen.” He took a couple of long orange carrots and started feeding them to the girls, who were happily munching away. “Like I’ve told you before. There’s just some shit we gotta take care of first, and fuck, we’ll need to buy a house.” The thought of hunting for one sounded like a real pain in the ass, especially with everything they’d want it to have.

“Javi?”

His head tilted up to meet his dad’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Have you guys thought about building a house?”

Javier’s eyebrows dipped together.

They’d discussed what their future home would need—a big backyard for garden space, a spacious living room, and a good-sized kitchen. They also planned to move into a house around the summer of the following year. If they were to build, though, it would be to their specifications. He could give his future wife the kitchen of her dreams, a big sunroom for her plants, and a soundproofed master suite.

“We haven’t…” he answered slowly. “We’d have to find land, an architect, contractor, whatever fucking else is needed to build a house.”

“The land is taken care of,” Chucho said with a wave of his free hand like it was no big deal.

Javier knew he had to look confused. “What?”

Daphne and Velma had finished eating, and he was back to petting them.

His dad smiled. “I’ve got all this land, Mijo.” He held out his arms. “Be my next-door neighbor, or live up the road. Don’t stress yourselves out over finding the perfect house when you can just build it—and with us living so close together, it’ll be easy for you to bring mis nietos humanos (my human grandchildren) over all the time.”

Javier’s eyebrow arched. “How do you know we’re gonna have more than one kid?”

He hoped they would and wanted as many children with her as she was willing to have.

There was a sad smile on Chucho’s face. “Because you’ve always wanted to be a father, Javi,” he answered, and Javier’s heart clenched hard. “That whole mess all those years ago before you left? You didn’t want to marry her, and I don’t blame you. She told you she was pregnant, and you just wanted to do what was best for your unborn baby—they were your main priority, and you were willing to do anything for them. Yes, you were scared about becoming a dad, but we could see you were excited, too, and how much you loved that child you thought existed.” His dad put a comforting palm on his shoulder. “You were ready to devote yourself to being the best father to them.” Javier’s eyes were watering because it was true he always wanted to be a dad, and he didn’t think anyone knew. “I know her lie hurt you deeply, Mijo, and also gave you relief, but it’s such a good thing you didn’t end up marrying her because look at where you’re at now.” The older man was softly smiling now. “You found the right woman who truly loves you, and your mother would’ve loved—I sure do, and when you hold your child for the first time, you will fall in love with them immediately and want ten more,” he chuckled.

Javier laughed through the tears, taking off his sunglasses to wipe at his eyes with the back of his arm before putting them back on.

“Also,” Chucho continued, “I know you’ll have more than one because the two of you can’t be left alone for more than five minutes—it’s surprising she hasn’t fallen pregnant yet.”

“She has good birth control.”

Too good, in Javier’s opinion.

He started to stand up, involuntarily grunting from the ache in his knees and lower back.

His dad’s eyebrows rose, nodding his head. “Well, that explains things. You were just here yesterday. I wasn’t expecting to see you again until Sunday. Something on your mind, Mijo?”

Therapy had been a fucking godsend, and Javier no longer constantly worried about shit, feeling like he was finally in control of his thoughts and emotions. Still, sometimes, he just wanted to drink a beer with his dad and talk about what was on his mind.

Javier smiled cheekily. “More like someone on my mind.”

Chucho laughed. “She’s always on your mind!”

“Yeah, she is, but, uh—” He scratched at the back of his head. “—I needed to talk to you about something alone…”

The elder Peña sobered up immediately, putting a hand out to squeeze his arm. “Is everything okay, Javi?”

Javier gave him a smile. “Everything’s fucking amazing—especially with her, and that’s why I’m out here…”

His father’s face lit up with a huge grin as the realization dawned on him. “¡No puedo esperar para decírselo a tu mamá (I can’t wait to tell your mom)! Vamos a la casa y me lo puedes contar todo (Let’s go to the house, and you can tell me everything).”

On the drive to their apartment, there was a lot to think about between the meeting the next day and plans for the future. The whole building a house was a great idea that he wanted to run by Cielito to see what she thought about it, then there was the other thing he needed to figure out…

Arriving home at his usual time, it wasn’t a surprise her car was already parked in her spot when he pulled up since she was usually off a little earlier than him. His truck took the space beside hers, towering over her tiny Honda that Javier had to contort his body in order to drive when he took it every weekend to fill the gas tank.

Before leaving the ranch, he washed his hands and hoped his cologne masked any kind of animal smells, not wanting her to know where he’d been—if she happened to ask, he’d tell her the truth of his whereabouts because there was no reason to lie.

Walking to the apartment, his suit jacket and tie were dangling over his arm, the other hand holding his keys that jingled as he unlocked the front door. Once inside, he shut the door and locked it, tossing his ring of keys into the large bowl on the long, narrow console table in the entryway, toeing off his Chelsea boots in front of the shoe rack on the floor beside it.

His body completely relaxed, a long, relieved sigh leaving him at finally being home.

The familiar smell of the apartment calmed him—he was safe here, he was loved.

“Cielito?” he called, turning toward the rest of the room and immediately jumping in his skin at her standing right there in front of him. “Jesus Christ,” Javier breathed, his heart pounding in his chest, pressing his hand over it.

She wore a deep purple oversized t-shirt that had faded and thinned over being washed and worn so many times, her legs bare beneath it.

A laugh sputtered from her lips. “I’m sorry for spooking you,” she said, moving forward to wrap her arms around his middle. He hugged her back with his free arm, a smile turning up on his mouth. “This was supposed to be horny, not scary.”

“How is you scaring the shit out of me supposed to be horny?” he asked, kissing her forehead.

Pulling back, there was a mischievous grin on her face. “Give me your jacket and tie.” He handed both over, watching as she turned to toss them on the couch behind her. When her attention returned to him, she said, “Okay, so you carrying your jacket kinda threw off my groove. Now, pretend you just took off your shoes and are super happy to be home.”

“I did just take off my boots, and I am happy to be home…” he replied with knitted brows.

“Yes, I know, but turn this way—” She made him face the shoes again. “—Okay,” she said, taking steps away from him. He turned his head toward her. “No! Don’t look at me yet!” Her outburst startled him, making him look forward once more.

“Mi amor (my love), what are you doing?” he asked.

“You’ll see, and you’re gonna love it. Trust me.”

“I trust you, Cielito. I trust you more than anyone else.”

And he did.

There wasn’t anyone else he trusted more or with whom he felt comfortable being genuinely vulnerable. Yes, he still hadn’t told her about Colombia, but he just wasn’t ready to open all of the old wounds and muddy her with the blood of all of the awful shit he’d seen and done—honestly, he didn’t want to think about any of it or bring her into that world, he liked keeping her separate from it all.

She was heaven. Colombia had been hell.

So, he was biding his time.

“I know, you big cutie,” she said. “Okay, now turn.”

He was beyond confused and unsure what was going on, but she was excited, so he was more than willing to go along with it, knowing she’d make whatever it was good.

Turning in place toward her, he was met with a look of determination on her face as she came at him quickly, his eyes widening when she grabbed the open collar of his dress shirt, shoving him back against the front door, smashing her mouth against his as she kissed him hard.

Smiling into her lips, one of his arms pulled her close, the other hand going lower to grab a handful of her ass, groaning when he found no underwear.

She was right. He definitely loved this.

Blood rushed to his groin, his cock twitching when she slipped her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own. Her hand slithered down the tight space of their bodies to rub over his hardening length, making him moan when she nipped at his bottom lip, arousal igniting in his belly.

Her mouth was a hair's breadth away from his as she breathily whispered, “I wanna suck your dick. Can I, Javi? Can I choke on this big cock?” She ended the question by lightly squeezing it in its half-hard state.

“You can do whatever the fuck you want to me,” he answered huskily, feeling her smile when she kissed him.

Both of his hands were now under the hem of her shirt, groping her bare backside.

“You don’t know what you’re offering when you say that,” she murmured into his lips.

“Yes, I do,” came his muffled answer. “Anything. You love my ass as much as I love yours.” He squeezed her asscheeks in his big palms.

The revelation he was into assplay was surprising, to say the least. Now in the right circumstances, he loved when she used her fingers while going down on him, or there was that one time she experimented with her mouth, and he about lost his damn mind.

“I do love your ass and you, but I didn’t bring lube.”

He smiled. “Later then, and I love you, too,” he replied, kissing her harder.

He deepened the kiss, their tongues moving together in a practiced dance while she made sounds in the back of her throat that went straight to his cock, loving how her scent was enveloping him—knowing he’d smell her all over him by the time they were done, it permeating his clothes, his hair, and his skin, hating that he’d have to wash it all away later.

When her lips left his to take a breath, the plush softness of them met his chin, then her teeth lightly nibbled, making him smile while both of her hands went to the front of his pants—his belt clinked as she expertly undid it, popping open the button of his slacks, unzipping them, his dick now completely hard.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” she said in that sultry tone she knew drove him wild, unable to keep from giving her a quick kiss.

“What were you thinking about, Cielito?”

She looked up at him under her lashes, crookedly smiling.

“Sucking this beautiful dick,” she answered, stroking it over his pants, the sensation making his breath hitch in his throat.

His tongue wet his bottom lip, wanting nothing more than her mouth on him. “What else, baby?”

“Well, we haven’t fooled around since Monday—“ Fuck, had it really been since he tied up her hands and fucked her in the kitchen? “—because you had to work late Tuesday, and we went to your dad’s last night.” Her free hand went up his chest. “So I’m really in the mood for you to make me feel it tomorrow.” She bit her lower lip.

“I can do that,” he replied. He covered her hand on his cock with his own. “This is yours, and you can have it any fucking way you want it, mi amor (my love).”

Her mouth collided with his, saying as she kissed him, “God, you’re so hot—I love you so fucking much.”

It made him smile. “I love you, too.”

One last kiss, and she was crouching in front of him, yanking the navy blue material down his thighs, leaving his dick confined by his white boxer briefs. She rubbed him over them, his chin dropping to watch as she mouthed at his hard length over the cotton, the warmth of her mouth causing his own to go slack and his skin to heat.

Her hands went up his thighs, the color of her neatly trimmed nails catching his attention.

His words came out rougher and deeper, a smile on his lips as he picked up her hand and inspected it, “You’re wearing the nail polish I picked out.” It was bright cherry red, and he’d chosen it the prior day at the drugstore before they’d gone out to the ranch, the cheesy name on the cap of the bottle reading, ‘Not Red-y for Bed.’ “It looks fucking gorgeous on you, baby,” he continued, swiping his thumb over the tops of her fingers.

She grinned up at him. “Thanks. My future husband has excellent taste,” she replied with a wink. “Now stop distracting me from sucking your dick.”

“Yes, mi reina (my queen),” he said, letting her palm go and watching as her beautiful fingers pulled down his underwear, his cock springing free. Moving onto her knees, he was glad they were cushioned by the soft, thick runner rug they’d invested in, her spitting in her palm and taking him in hand, his mouth falling open at the first stroke.

He started working open the buttons of his shirt, keeping his eyes on her as she languidly jerked him, getting glimpses of her red nails when she’d twist on the upstroke, and fuck, they looked good wrapped around his dick.

She took him into her mouth, and Javier forgot how to breathe.

There was only one button left to undo on his dress shirt, but that didn’t matter with her gaze on him, watching as she hummed in enjoyment, taking him further and further into her hot, wet heat. Her other hand slipped between her legs, and his cock twitched that she was touching herself.

“Fuck, hermosa (beautiful),” he rasped, his hand resting on the back of her head. Javier gulped hard at the pleasure. “It feels so fucking good, Cielito—you’re so fucking beautiful playing with your pretty little pussy while my dick is in your mouth. You gonna make yourself come, baby? Can you do that for me? Come all over those gorgeous fingers.”

She moaned while continuing to blow him, doing this swirly thing with her tongue around the tip and on the underside of his cock that had him groaning loudly. His hips were rocking, knowing she was on her way to turning him into an absolute mess.

Her eyes were watching him through her lashes, all heavy-lidded and dark, the arousal evident in her gaze while her lips stretched around his dick and her head bobbed, twirling her tongue around the head on each upstroke. Her hand worked what couldn’t fit, the other moving at the apex of her thighs.

“Are you rubbing your clit?” he roughly asked. “Does it get you off sucking my cock? You like this, don’t you? You like getting yourself off while choking on it.”

That made her moan again, and he could see on her face how much she was enjoying this.

Truth be told, before her, Javier didn’t really care for blow jobs—not that he didn’t like them, he loved them; the problem was he could tell when his partner wasn’t into it, and there was no bigger turn-off than someone doing something they didn’t want to do.

But Cielito was different.

He was pretty fucking sure she had some kind of addiction to sucking his dick with how often she wanted to do it, and the thing was, every, single, time, he could tell she was having the best time—he had never seen someone enjoy blowing him more.

Javier loved it when she wanted to go down on him, her enthusiasm making it incredible.

All of a sudden, her mouth came off him, a string of spit keeping them connected as her eyes closed, and he knew that look on her face. Her free hand left him to pluck at her pebbled nipple through her shirt.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked, curling his fist around his wet cock, slowly jacking off as he watched. “You gonna be my good fucking girl and come for me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, nodding. “So close.”

“I was gonna get down there and eat you out—make you come on my fingers and tongue, but I think you’d like it better if I didn’t loosen you up before I got my dick inside you. Isn’t that right, baby?” Her breath stuttered, a sheen of sweat coating her forehead. “It’s been three fucking days, and you want to feel how big I am—how much I stretch you open.” Soft sounds were spilling from her lips that were getting louder. “You’re my dirty fucking girl and want to feel me all day tomorrow while you’re at work.” He could tell she was close. “I bet you’ll want me to fuck you again tonight in bed and tomorrow before work so you’re stuffed full of my come—”

Her body tensed up, coming with a gasp of his name, and he smiled.

“There it is,” he said. “Such a good girl—you did so good for me, mi amor (my love). God, you’re amazing. It’s fucking sexy how hungry you are for my dick.”

Her eyes blinked open, smiling dreamily at him. “Because it’s perfect,” she replied. “And you’re perfect—you make the best noises when I go down on you, and you never try to fuck my face without asking or are ever pushy.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I honestly don’t think you’ve ever asked me for a BJ, which is shocking.”

He was smiling. “I’ve never needed to, and I wouldn’t.”

Her brow arched. “You wouldn’t ask for a blow job?”

“I only want one if it’s something you want to do—otherwise, I’d rather just fuck or eat your pussy,” he answered with a shrug.

“I am living the fucking dream. Now move your hand; I wanna feel you in my throat.”

He chuckled, doing as she said, and was not at all surprised when her lips wrapped around his cock. She bobbed her head, working him inch by inch into her mouth until she swallowed him down into her throat, taking him all the way to the root, Javier groaning.

Those bright red nails were digging into his thighs, the knot in his belly was beginning to wind tighter, and his cock pulsing in the tight space. Sweat coated his brow, a flush crawling up his chest and neck, his heart pounding in his chest.

Her eyes were on his, tears gathering at the edges, saliva escaping at the sides of her mouth, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“My good fucking girl,” he praised, feeling where he was bulging in her throat. “Such a good fucking girl taking my dick down your throat—god, I love you so much.”

She gurgled around him like she was replying, ‘I love you, too,’ then her head was coming up, sputtering as she coughed.

“You okay?” he asked.

She gave him a thumbs up, finally answering, “Yeah.” Saliva was coating her chin and around her lips while she breathed hard.

His thumb slid along her bottom lip as he smiled. “Hermosa (Beautiful),” he said.

“Messy,” she corrected.

“Still beautiful.”

Playfully, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m not done.”

Not wasting another second, she took the tip back into her mouth, circling her tongue around the sensitive ridges. Javier swallowed thickly, feeling the pleasure build inside him, entranced with her stroking him again, the flash of red as her hand easily glided up and down his spit-slicked shaft. When her other hand started lightly massaging his balls, his cock jerked, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

He didn’t want to come like this.

Quickly, he got the last button on his shirt undone, shrugging it off and tossing it toward the couch, it landing on the floor.

“Baby?” he said, her eyes immediately meeting his while pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft.

“Hmm?” She hummed.

“Don’t make me come.”

The power was in her hands.

“You close?” she asked before being fucking mean and dipping her head low to lick at his sack.

“Fuck,” he moaned. His throat bobbed as he thickly swallowed, trying to control his breathing and the tightening in his gut, not wanting to blow his load so soon. There was no other choice but to gently push at her shoulder. “Stop,” he gasped, and she did immediately, hands and mouth coming off him. “Thank you,” he panted, swiping at the sweat on his forehead with his arm. She shuffled back on her knees, looking up at him. “Do you want me to eat your pussy or give you my dick?” he asked. He was fine with either and was pretty sure she was going to choose—

“Dick,” she answered immediately.

He smirked. “Fucking knew it.” His thumbs went into the waistband of his boxer briefs, shoving them and his slacks down to his ankles before peeling off his socks. Groaning, he straightened and held out his hands to her, saying, “Come on, mi futura esposa (my future wife). You deserve better than getting fucked on the floor.”

She accepted his help, Javier grunting as he pulled her up to stand in front of him.

“Fucking on the floor is hot, though,” she pouted.

“Sometimes,” he said, grabbing her hips and turning her the other way. “Most of the time, it just fucks up my back and knees, and I don’t want to deal with that shit tomorrow. Let’s go.” He smacked both of her asscheeks to get her to start moving, earning a giggle as he followed her to the bedroom.

Their first big purchase as a couple was upgrading the queen-sized bed she’d already had to a king. They’d gotten a sturdy frame that Javier tweaked to ensure there’d be no squeaking and a white metal headboard that was arched with thin vertical slats for obvious reasons, precautions made so it wouldn’t bang against the wall—yes, he did spend an entire Saturday morning sex-proofing their new bed for the sake of their elderly next door neighbor who glared at him every time they crossed paths.

Late afternoon sunlight was slipping through the cracks in the closed blinds and illuminating the blue linen curtains covering them in their shared room. The only lights on were both bedside lamps—her watch, a paperback, alarm clock, and a corded telephone accompanying hers; a small framed picture of them kissing with fireworks going off above their heads that his dad took at the town’s Fourth of July event, a book with his extra pair of reading glasses on top of it, and his alarm clock beside his.

His attention was on her ass as she crawled up onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress when he followed. Once she was far enough up the bed, he pounced, gripping handfuls of her backside and tackling her to lay flat on her stomach, making her laugh when he sunk his teeth into her plump flesh. It made him smile, placing a loud, smacking kiss over the indents of his teeth before he sat up and helped her flip onto her back, his hips nestling in the space between her thighs.

Their noses were almost touching, his arm beside her head holding him up while his other hand rubbed up and down her belly over her shirt.

“Hi,” he said.

She smiled, sliding her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, making him shiver. “Hi, babe. I love how we get so horny we forget to greet each other.” She quickly pecked him on the lips.

“Or you decide to scare the shit out of me.”

“I really didn’t mean to. I was just trying to channel my inner Javi.”

His eyebrows dipped together.

“What?”

“You know, just showing up and going zero to horny in under thirty seconds. Like Monday, when you stormed into the kitchen and started making out with me? That was so hot. I was trying to be like that.”

He smiled. “You’re cute,” he said, nuzzling her nose. “Don’t sneak up on me next time, and it’ll go better.”

“Noted.” She pulled him in for a kiss, and he happily reciprocated, deepening it quickly with a slide of his tongue along her lip for her to open. His cock was still hard, pressing into her skin, his hand moving up to palm her shirt-covered breast, listening to those sounds he loved coming from her throat while they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

His lips left hers to catch his breath, moving them along her jaw to nibble at her chin.

“I love you in this shirt,” he said into her skin.

“Thanks,” she panted. “It’s comfy. Now please, fuck me, Javi.”

“Need my dick, Cielito?” He kissed over her pulse point, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath his lips.

“Yes,” she answered.

That was all the answer he needed, pushing up with a grunt to sit up on his knees while she turned onto her stomach, which required him to help move her legs around him. Her hips rose automatically without his help, presenting her glistening pussy, and that had a shock of arousal hitting his gut at how ready she was for him. His cock throbbed between his legs, wanting to feel her squeeze around him.

One hand smoothed over her ass, spitting on the fingers of the other that he rubbed over her entrance, repeating the action to slick his dick up, notching himself at her drenched hole.

“You ready?” he asked.

Her head was resting on her crossed arms. “Dámelo (Give it to me).”

“Es tuyo, mi reina (It’s yours, my queen),” he replied, pushing in.

His eyes slipped shut, and his mouth went slack as her hot, velvety walls embraced him, smoothly sliding all the way home in one thrust.

“Fuck,” he breathed, it feeling like her tight heat was trying to suck him in deeper.

“God, that’s good,” she moaned.

Pulling out halfway, he pushed easily back in. “Fucking love this pussy—sit up with me.” He tapped her hip.

Her legs were on either side of his, getting her up on her knees to have her back to his chest, his arm going across her front to hold her breast, the other palm gliding down the soft cotton of her shirt to the apex of her thighs.

His pace was slow; there was no hurry, wanting her to really feel him by keeping his cock buried deep inside her, barely thrusting in and out while moving his hips in a circular pattern. He welcomed it when she reached behind to dig her cherry-colored nails into his ass, her other set doing the same to his arm as she softly moaned, the fire in his belly slowly building.

Had he really gone three days without this? Feeling her warmth, the way it rippled through his body, and her softness, having her so close to him, and the connection. He needed to feel more of her. He needed more of her skin on his. He needed it all.

His thrusts didn’t waver as he pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, whispering, “Mi amor (My love)?”

“Yes?” she gasped.

“Do you wanna keep the shirt on?”

Even though he told her constantly how attractive he found her and her body, there were still times when she felt more comfortable wearing a shirt during sex, and he respected that.

“No.”

As soon as the word left her lips, he was tugging it up, her arms going over her head for him to get it off, tossing it to the floor.

Pulling her back, her skin on his felt amazing, languidly moving in her while he kissed along her shoulder and neck and up to bite at her earlobe. His fingers between her legs were rubbing at her swollen clit, his other hand plucking at her hardened nipple, feeling her arousal dripping down his dick.

His lips were back at her ear, panting hot breaths against it as he asked, “Did your needy little pussy miss me, baby? Did it miss being stuffed with my cock or my come?”

“Both,” she moaned.

With the way her cunt was starting to flutter, he knew she was getting close. Their bodies were sticky with sweat, not caring how they stuck together or the wet sounds where they were joined, Javier smiling at hearing the wet suck of his dick moving in and out of her sopping pussy.

The angle was awkward, but he kissed her cheek, and she turned her head to chase his lips, kissing him while he built her up higher and higher, his own orgasm taking shape at the base of his spine.

His mouth went back to press at her shoulders, Javier in heaven.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said through heavy breaths, muffled into her skin. “So fucking much. Eres todo para mí y siempre lo serás (You’re everything to me and always will be). Te daría la luna si pudiera (I would give you the moon if I could). Te daría todas las estrellas del cielo (I would give you every star in the sky).” He started moving a little faster, putting more pressure on her clit, her moans getting louder. “Te mereces todo y más y movería cielos y tierra para dártelo si pudiera (You deserve everything and more and I would move heaven and earth to give it to you if I could). Pero solo soy un hombre así que te estoy dando todo de mí (But I am just a man, so I am giving you all of me). Cada parte de mí te pertenece porque yo soy tuyo y siempre seré tuyo (Every part of me belongs to you because I am yours and I will always be yours).”

Her pussy seized up tight around him as she came with a cry of his name, his fingers gently swirling over her sensitive bundle of nerves to help her ride out the wave.

“So good to me,” he softly said, kissing the side of her neck. “You did so fucking good for me, my good girl—god, I love you.”

It took some seconds for her to speak, her voice sounding rougher than usual. “Javier, why would you say absurdly romantic shit you know is gonna make me cry while you’re balls deep inside me and on the cusp of making me come?”

“I don’t know,” he panted, shrugging. “Felt right. Still got you off, though,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and cry at the same time, which is rude.” She wiped at her eyes.

His hands were rubbing circles on her hips.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing—are you still wanting the special thing you say I’m good at?”

“The Javi special, that you know the name of and refuse to use—” That was true. “—Yes. Pretty please.”

He smacked her thigh. “Hands and knees, baby.”

His cock was still achingly hard inside her when she lowered onto her arms, figuring he could go a bit longer before he’d come. Gripping the flesh of her hips, he moved, watching as he pulled almost all the way out, seeing himself shining in her juices and fucking back into her hard. She loved getting pounded from behind, and he was more than happy to oblige with his dick slickly moving fast in and out of her tight, hot heat, carving out space inside her with every stroke that had her mewling.

A layer of sweat was coating his forehead and chest, feeling a drop slide down his cheek while he grunted in exertion, fucking her how she wanted, her moans of his name spurring him on. His big hands grabbed onto the cheeks of her ass and squeezed them, gripping them to pull her back and fuck her on his cock. One left her, coming back down on the jiggling flesh with a loud smack that had her cunt clenching around him and her crying out in pleasure. He kept up the punishing pace, his heart thudding in his chest, spanking her again in the same spot, then on the other side, feeling her getting wetter.

“You gonna give me one more?” he asked through bared teeth.

Her arms and legs were trembling, and he was pretty sure he could make her come one more time. It looked like she couldn’t hold up her weight anymore, moving onto her forearm, her head resting to the side on it, noticing her other arm had gone under her body to play with her clit.

“Javi?” she gasped his name.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“I want you to come inside me.”

Pleasure was curling and knotting in his gut, and her words ramped it up.

“I will.”

“I wanna feel you come inside me.”

That sentence confused the fuck out of him in his wrecked state, not knowing at all what she meant since he already said he was going to do it.

“I’ll fill you up, baby,” he panted, now focusing on chasing his high, closing his eyes, needing that sweet release more than anything. “I’ll fuck you full of me, stuff you full of my come, and get you preg—” The sentence cut off into a strangled moan as she reached between her legs to cup his sack, the sensation tipping him over the edge, hitting the point of no return. He pushed into her all the way as his balls tightened, and he came, his cock jerking hard, pumping spurts and spurts of his spend inside her. His mind had gone blank, euphoria taking over every molecule in his body, feeling her cunt spasming and tightening around him as she went with him.

When a coherent thought came to him, it was that he needed to lie down—a hiss slipping through his teeth when he pulled out, moving to fall onto the mattress beside her.

The second thing to cross his mind as the cool air in the room felt chillier on his sweat-dampened skin was he missed her warmth—frowning, he sat up with a groan, his heavy-lidded eyes seeing she was sprawled out next to him.

“Lay back down,” she said, turning her head toward him with a little smile and looking just as wrung out as he felt. “I could feel your sad eyes on me.” She yawned, speaking through it, “I just needed a second to be able to move—I was heading your way, baby.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, lying back down and getting comfortable with his head cushioned on a pillow. Seconds later, she was in his space, making herself at home with her body half on top of his, Javier smiling when her fingers slid into his sweat-dampened hair, wrapping his arms around her.

His words were rough. “That was new.”

“Robyn told me about it.” That was her best friend and co-worker. “But I just made it extra horny by feeling them while you came.”

“I liked it.”

“Good.”

She cuddled closer to him, sighing happily as they laid there.

If someone asked him what his favorite thing in the entire world was to do, his answer would be what they were doing right now—not the sex, but the being naked, holding each other in their relaxed, happy states, enjoying the other's company.

This was also when he was most vulnerable physically but mentally, too. All his carefully built walls crumbling, aware that he’d answer any question she asked him and ignoring the one on the tip of his tongue that he could taste the words of.

“Yes,” she said, tilting her head up to kiss under his jaw, and his heart started hammering that maybe he said aloud what he was thinking.

His lips pressed to her forehead. “Yes, what?”

“Just practicing how I’ll answer when you finally ask—I wanna be ready.”

He smiled.

“I do.”

“Huh?”

“Just practicing how I’ll answer when I’m asked if I’ll take you as my wife.”

She sat up to hover her face over his, looking him in the eyes. “That was really fucking smooth.” He smiled. “I love you, Javi, more than anything.” Her lips met his, kissing him tenderly, his hand cradling the back of her head.

They separated after a few seconds. “I love you, too,” he replied.

Her red-nailed fingers pushed the hair off his forehead while she looked at him fondly. “I know you do. Let’s go shower, and then we can make dinner.” She started to get up, moving to the edge of the bed. “Does pasta sound good?” she asked as she stood.

His back protested when he sat up and got out of bed from the opposite side. “Sounds great. We’ve got stuff for salad, too.”

“We do.” She nodded, her head turning to look at him.

“Go start warming up the shower. I’m gonna go grab my clothes from the living room.”

Her mouth turned up in a grin. “What a good, responsible man, cleaning up after his sexcapades. Okay, hurry up!” She started heading for the en suite, and he went to grab the pile he left by the front door, taking out his wallet from his pants pocket and putting it in the bowl on the table, picking up his dress shirt from the floor, grabbing his suit jacket and tie.

He could hear the overhead fan blowing and the water running in the bathroom, light streaming out from the door that was almost all the way closed.

Tossing his clothes on the bed, he kept his pants in his hands as he walked the few steps to his dresser beside the bedroom door, glancing toward the noises over his shoulder before pulling open the top drawer that contained his socks and underwear. His hand went into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out the small white leather ring box, popping it open to see the gold band with a modest-sized diamond in the middle with two smaller ones on each side.

“You don’t know that you’re gonna get to answer that question a lot sooner than planned,” he whispered, “and I can’t wait to see you wearing this.”

“Javi?” she called from the bathroom.

Quickly, he shut the box. “Coming!” He dug into the back of his drawer for the old pair of wool socks he never wore, bundling the ring box inside of them and stashing it away in the depths.

Now, all he had to figure out was when.

Friday, November 6, 11:58 AM

The conference room didn’t have a fucking clock.

He needed a cigarette, his fingers itching for one, thinking he could probably bum a smoke off of someone when this was over. His reading glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose as he brought up his wrist to read his watch for probably the thirtieth time in the last fifty-eight minutes he’d been in this pointless meeting.

The DEA agent he was currently half-listening to and who has been the bane of his existence since he started this job, had come in on some kind of power trip, thinking he had authority over Javier and the people he worked with—it’s been an ongoing issue and a reason there was animosity between the two men.

It all made sense when he finally put a face to the name of asshole DEA agent Jesse Clemons.

The other man was in his late twenties, if he had to guess—definitely too young for the assignment he’d been given since there was no way he had enough experience, and he was hiding it by being a grade-A dick. In terms of looks, the kid was smaller than him, thinner, shorter, with the face of an average white male, and had the attitude of someone whose parents paid for him to get into an Ivy League school—which made Javier think he had connections that landed him this job since something about the guy screamed ‘nepotism hire.’

Javier put him in his place before they even sat down and made it clear he was the one in charge here—possibly scaring him too much because the kid was stuttering and stammering through the whole meeting.

Glancing at his watch, he saw the hour was finally up.

“Well,” he said, interrupting the agent as he closed the files before him, putting them into a stack. “I’ve got another appointment to get to.” Standing, he took off his glasses, sliding them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and picked up the manila folders. “It was nice to meet you in person, and we’ll see how your suggestions play out.” They wouldn’t. “Doors this way.” He held out his arm toward it.

The agent looked relieved it was over, quickly putting his things away in his brown leather briefcase and letting Javier usher him out of the room.

They paused just outside the door.

“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me, sir,” Jesse said, holding out his hand that Javier quickly shook.

“Yeah.”

“My, uh—“ He scratched at the back of his neck. “—My nana sends her regards.”

That had Javier’s eyebrows pulling together as he tried to figure out who he could possibly be talking about.

“Your… nana...?”

“Yes, my grandma Noonan. She was a former ambassador in Colombia…”

Javier huffed out a breath—there it was, the reason this kid was hired. His grandma was a real hardass but pretty decent at her job, and with her connections, it’s no wonder her grandson had such an important assignment.

“Yeah, I remember your nana. You give her my best. Thanks for stopping by.”

The younger man nodded, retreating down the hallway.

Javier sure as fuck didn’t miss the DEA and their bullshit, the meeting turning out to be just as irritating as he’d expected it to be. He’d been prepared for the questions and had the files to back up his answers and prove they’d been working their asses off.

The only good thing about this was that the kid would probably leave him alone now, or at the very least only be in contact when necessary, which is what Javier hoped.

Once the agent disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, his eyes closing for a moment.

He didn’t actually have another appointment. It was lunchtime for him and the woman he loved, who he needed to talk to in order to calm his nerves.

“Never thought I’d see you again.” That voice hadn’t spoken to him since he uncovered just how corrupt the Colombian government was. His eyes flew open, turning his head toward them.

“Why the fuck am I seeing you, Stechner?” he practically spat out.

Bill Stechner looked balder and his beard longer, standing half a dozen steps from him down the hall. His appearance had Javier’s heart speeding up and jaw clenching, knowing that nothing good would come from this.

The older man walked a little closer as he spoke, holding a file in one hand and the other in his pocket, “I was in the neighborhood on business and heard you were working here. Wanted to stop by and see how my old friend was doing.”

His eyes narrowed.

“We’ve never been friends, and how I’m doing is none of your fucking business.”

“What? I can’t be happy for you?”

Javier’s blood ran cold—what the fuck did he know?

Stechner removed the hand from his pocket to open the folder. “You know,” he continued, glancing down at it. “That girl of yours is too good for you.”

Dread came over him, feeling the heaviness of it in his gut and having to swallow hard because there was a chance he might throw up.

“I know she is,” he answered.

“No, no, I mean she’s really too good for you and is another woman with questionable taste in men. Did you know she graduated top of her class in college?” He didn’t. “She had the pick of any hospital in the country, and she chose Dallas, which, let me tell you, is quite far from her family, but I’m sure you know that.” He did. “Speaking of her family—” Stechner flipped a page. “—talk about notoriety and wealth. I’m honestly surprised you live in that tiny condo with all of the money she has. Looking at this, she should be with a doctor, or a surgeon, hell, even someone from a family as affluent as hers.” An opinion her parents shared. “I’m not seeing why she’d choose a disgraced farmer boy.” His teeth clenched, the sentence repeating over and over in his head, ‘Because she loves me. Because she loves me.’ The other man looked up to meet his eyes. “But you, the only reason you’re with her is the money, right? Because someone like you isn’t the settling down type. You can’t stick to just one woman, and with that kind of cash, you can afford more pussy than you were paying for with Uncle Sam’s money in Colombia.”

What money? What money was he talking about?

The jabs about his sex life were fine; he was used to it, but he was beyond confused at being accused of only dating Cielito for her money since he’d seen her bank statements—they sat at their kitchen table writing checks to pay bills together every month, and balance their checkbooks. Her accounts weren’t anything crazy, and his savings was even bigger than hers from not having to pay for a lot in Colombia. Her job did make more than his, though; that was a fact and understandable with the work she did.

But she wasn’t some millionaire, which was what was being implied.

Maybe he was assuming that since her family had money, she did, too?

Too bad his research didn’t tell him her relationship with her family was strained with them all being a bunch of uptight, snobby dicks and that there was a chance she’d been written out of her parents' wills due to her life choices (dating him)—so, she didn’t have access to their money.

Everything else Stechner said had him taken aback at how he’d managed to tug at Javier’s relationship insecurities—he knew he wasn’t good enough for her, that his career was lacking, his wealth was mediocre, that his past should be a glaring red flag.

But she still chose him despite it all.

Despite it all, she still loved only him.

His face had heated as it pinched in anger at the fucking audacity of this fucker trying to mess with his relationship, rage roiling in his belly that Stechner misused his authority with the CIA to get information on his future wife and invade her privacy.

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” he gritted out. “Leave me and her the fuck alone.”

“Oh, you didn’t know about the money.” The file closed in his hand. “Like how she didn’t know about all you did in Colombia? I could tell I caught her off guard when I brought it up.”

Panic erupted inside him, his eyes widening, papers scattering on the floor when he dropped the folders in his hand to take the strides and grab the other man by his dark green jacket lapels, slamming him into the wall. “What did you tell her?!” The words roared from his throat.

His mind was racing, thinking of all Stechner could’ve told her and knowing without a doubt he’d twist things to make Javier look like a heartless monster—he was so fucking scared he could cry.

It irritated him how calmly the other man spoke. “Well, I couldn’t believe she didn’t know why you weren’t there to catch Escobar with how ‘serious’ you two are and figured it must’ve slipped your mind, so I just told her the truth of how you got a lot of innocent civilians murdered by helping Los Pepes—men, women, children. I also brought a copy of Judy’s interview for her to read as proof.”

This was his worst nightmare.

That interview pinned all of the leaked intelligence to Los Pepes on him when they were also getting it from other high-ranking members of Search Bloc, the police force in Colombia dedicated to taking down drug lords. It made him look responsible for all of the carnage and innocent casualties, including the war that happened between Pablo Escobar and Los Pepes that had the former setting off a bomb at a busy shopping center a week before schools were starting, killing a bunch of kids.

“You’re looking awfully pale, Javier,” Stechner continued. “Do you need to sit down?”

He didn’t have a chance to explain the truth to her.

She was going to leave him over his past mistakes. There was no way she’d want to be with someone who fucked up so badly—he was going to lose her, and his heart felt like it was breaking into a million tiny pieces he’d never be able to put back together.

He was spiraling, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he let go of the man, turning around with his face in his hands, screaming into them FUCK!

Why was this happening to him? Why was Stechner trying to ruin the only good thing in his life? Was this payback for disobeying and taking down the Cali cartel? For revealing the corruption in Colombia? Or was this just for his own fucked up amusement?

His entire world was crumbling. He should’ve told her sooner. She should’ve heard all of this from him and gotten the truth.

She was everything to him, and without her, he was nothing.

He had nothing left to lose if he already lost her, and now he was just angry and fucking tired of people ruining his life. His blood was boiling, rage bubbling up inside him over this vindictive motherfucker who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

His hands fell, and he turned on his heel to face the bastard.

“I should’ve done this a long time ago,” he said.

Stechner smiled. “What’s that?”

His right fist was tightly clenched, and then he swung, hearing and feeling the sickening crunch as it connected with the other man’s face, who yelped in pain.

Javier was numb, shaking out his hand as it flexed at his side while Stechner tried to staunch the bleeding coming from his nostrils, the file he had tucked under his arm.

Javier glared, his tone menacing as he raised a finger, “Leave me and her the fuck alone. If I see you around here again—” He jabbed the other man in the chest. “—I’m getting a fucking restraining order.”

“I could have you arrested for assaulting a government agent.” He sounded nasally.

“And how will the CIA feel about one of their agents using government means to harass a civilian? You get me arrested, you lose your fucking job for being a creep. Leave. Us. The. Fuck. Alone. You got what you wanted. She’s probably at the apartment packing my shit as we speak.” He snatched the folder from Stechner. “I’m taking this—now fuck off.”

With that, he turned around, his heart pounding, heading to where he dropped his files.

Sheriff Arturo’s assistant, Joy, came out of the conference room, holding her notepad to her chest with wired-rimmed glasses on her freckled face. He’d forgotten she’d been taking notes for her boss at the meeting.

“Go to the hospital and talk to her,” she said. “I’ll clean up the mess here and make sure he—” She glared at Stechner. “—is escorted out of the building.” Her eyes came back to him, the fresh college graduate looking worried, when she continued, “Whatever is going on sounds bad, and you need to go right now and fix it, Javi. Go to her! Hurry!”

She was right.

“Thank you,” he replied and started jogging down the maze of hallways to get out of the building.

By the time he made it to his truck, sweat was coating his forehead, and he didn’t bother putting on his sunglasses, tossing the file Stechner had on the passenger seat, the tires screeching as he turned onto the roadway. His hand tightly squeezed the steering wheel while the other dug his phone out of his pocket, holding it up to his ear as he speed-dialed Cielito.

Ring.

“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system—”

“Fuck,” he hissed, redialing.

Ring.

“Your call—” He hit the end call button, glancing at the clock on his dashboard.

She should be on lunch right now and have her phone.

She should be answering.

She always answered.

He dialed again.

Ring.

Dread filled him once more.

“Your call—” He clicked the end button.

Was she screening his calls? Was she letting him go to voicemail?

Was she done with him? Was this all over? Was she even going to be at the hospital when he got there? Or did she leave work early to go home and pack his things?

He didn’t want to call her work, but he needed to know if he was heading to the right place, scrolling through his cellphone’s phone book until he found the number he was looking for and pushed call.

Ring.

“Doctor’s Hospital of Laredo, how may I direct your call?”

“Post-op nurse’s station.”

“One moment.”

Ring.

“Post-op. Robyn speakin’,” her cheery voice answered.

He let out a relieved breath.

Robyn would know where she was at.

“Robyn, it’s Javi—“

“She can’t talk right now,” she interrupted in a serious tone, her change in demeanor jolting him and making his stomach drop.

“Just…” His throat felt tight, swallowing hard while his eyes watered. “Just tell me if she’s there, please,” he all but begged.

“Of course she’s here.”

“Okay… Thank you…” he numbly replied, ending the call and setting the phone on the bench seat beside him.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Fuck!” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel.

How was it that hours ago, his life had been perfect?

Everything had finally fallen into place—he’d found the perfect woman who loved him and who he loved; he’d gotten his mother’s ring from his dad the day before and was going to take it to the jewelry store Monday to have it sized and altered, actively planning how he was going to propose so it’d be perfect.

She deserved perfection.

He’d been living the fucking dream, and now he wasn’t even sure if he still had a girlfriend.

She wasn’t answering his calls, and she’d roped in her friend to keep him from talking to her.

She promised him she’d still love him after finding out about his past, and he believed it, but he also knew Stechner was a sadistic prick, and Javier didn’t know what she’d been told—what lies, and exaggerations were said to make him look as horrible as possible.

It must’ve been jarring for her, and she wanted space—what she needed was to hear the truth, the whole truth of everything he went through down there, that he should’ve fucking told her months ago. He felt like a real piece of shit that he put her in this position. Javier knew her better than anyone else, and had she known about Los Pepes, and all the other shit he’d been keeping from her, he knew for a fact she would’ve sniffed Stechner out right away and ripped him to fucking pieces for trying to sabotage their relationship. But she didn’t know, and that rat bastard got what he wanted.

The traffic light turned green, and he laid on the horn when the car in front of him didn’t immediately go, passing them when he could as he sped over the speed limit.

All he could think about was how he had to get to her and straighten this all out—hell, if he needed to, Steve could corroborate everything he was going to tell her.

He would fix this. He had to fix this.

There was no other option.

He couldn’t go back to how he was living before her, which wasn’t living at all; it was just existing with no purpose. There was a purpose now; there was more than a purpose, expanding to hopes and dreams for their future together.

She was his sun, shining brightly, giving him life, warmth, and helping him grow. He was her moon, faithfully following her anywhere she’d go, reflecting her radiant love, loving her day and night in her best and worst moments.

He loved her more than anything, and he would do whatever it took to make this right.

His eyes were burning.

“Tengo miedo, amá (I’m scared, mom),” he whispered under his breath. “Me duele el corazón (My heart is hurting). No puedo perderla, amá (I can’t lose her, mom). La amo más que a nada en el mundo y no puedo vivir sin a ella (I love her more than anything in the world and I can’t live without my her).” Tears fell down his cheeks. “¿Puedes hablar con alguien en el cielo o dondequiera que estés (Can you talk to someone in heaven or wherever you are)? ¿Por favor, amá (Please, mom)?” He wiped at his face, sniffling. “¿Por favor (Please)? La amo y haré cualquier cosa para recuperarla de vuelta (I love her and I will do anything to get her back).”

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @nicolethered @nessamc @vanemando15 @fiscinthirst @melancholyy-hill @hnt-escape @sherala007 @jadesabre83 @rainbeaubrightchild @blub-senpai @pedrohoe04 @theherothesavior @captain-creampuff @javiersjeans @zetasaturno99 @amb11 @lovedbyth3sun @siidereeus @marvelousmermaid @mrszdjarin @themarcusmoreno @ms-loverman-066 @star-wars-fan-2005 @kissing-stars @chloeinpink @notyourlovemonkey @unofficialavenger90 @fictionismyreality @sheetsof-lennon @damnyoupedro @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @enjoyourlattebitch @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @theewokingdead @guess-my-next-obsession @pedrostories

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña/reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

463 notes · View notes

belovedmusings · 1 month

Text

Poppy red.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Themes (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part six of the 'Two + One' story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and today, after having gone no-contact with his bandmate, Suguru, for a month, you have him over at your house while Choso is visiting his brother. The two of you need to discuss your relationship...and hopefully exhibit much-needed self-control.

Relevant tags: sexual tension, thoughts of infidelity, characters with questionable morals, Suguru is hot, but so is Choso, slow burn, no "y/n" for immersion, 2nd POV, reader has no defining characteristics, explicit smut, missionary, oral sex (fem receiving)

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: HENTAI (Rosalía), Animal I Have Become (Three Days Grace)

A/N: Life has still been busy but I still am so in love with this story so I'll continue to update!! Here's a rather spicy chapter, enjoy :)

Read below cut:

The two of you take either side of the couch in the living room once you’re inside with the groceries all put away.

Suguru had been watching television while you restocked the fridge and pantry, so once you join him, he faces you properly, beginning to speak.

“I want you in my life,” Suguru tells you right off the bat, seeming to want to avoid wasting time, “And before I…tell you how I really feel, I need you to know that I don’t want to take you away from Choso. I understand that you two are happy and I have no ill-feelings towards him.”

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

“That being said,” Suguru looks you deeply in the eyes. “I…what I feel for you isn’t like anything I’ve felt for anyone else. You’re constantly on my mind and I…I just want to be near you all the time. I want to hold you and…kiss you. Since I want to be completely blunt, I…I want more than that, too. I’m physically attracted to you, but also, I…I can picture us together.”

Hearing it out loud is a crazy experience, but Suguru is being open and honest with you. You want to meet him halfway.

“I feel the same way, but I haven’t lost any feelings I have for Choso. It’s very confusing.”

“That’s another thing—I don’t want to hurt Choso. I really like him, and I’d never want to betray his trust.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands, which have begun fiddling with each other in your lap. Then, in one fluid motion, you feel Suguru move closer, his hand covering both of yours.

“I…I don’t know how to move forward from here,” Suguru confesses as your eyes meet, your heart fluttering in your chest. “But I can’t say ‘goodbye’ to you.”

”Look…um, I just think it’s a good idea if we only see each other when he’s around,” you tell him, his palm warm over your skin. Your eyes are fixated on the sight. “We…can’t control ourselves when we’re alone together.’

Suguru sighs heavily beside you, giving your hands a small little pulse, his thumb gently running in small strokes. It makes you nervous, filling you with a pulsating warmth that ebbs and flows in rhythm with his touches.

“See?” You say, “Even this…this is intimacy we shouldn’t be sharing. We wouldn’t do this with Choso around.”

He looks into your eyes, nodding minutely. “That’s true. I know what you’re saying is true. I just…have this urge to not keep my hands off of you. If you were my girlfriend…should you want it…I’d have trouble staying off of you.”

You suck in a slow, deep breath. “When you say things like that…”

“I know,” he shakes his head, “I know, I do. Just…why couldn’t I have found you first?”

“Suguru,” you look away, pulling your hand out of his. “I shouldn’t be entertaining you like this, but I just…there’s something about you that I just…”

“Why haven’t you told him about what we’ve done so far?” He asks suddenly, causing you to look at him again. Your lips part for a second in thought before the honest words come pouring out.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” you say, “He has a tough exterior but he’s incredibly soft and vulnerable on the inside. If I told him…it would…grow. Like a weed. Even if I assured him it was nothing to worry about, it’d be there in the back of his mind. It would make him see you differently too, and it might ruin the band. I can’t do that, Suguru.”

“So, your plan is to never tell him how you feel about me?”

“How can I?” You stand up, gesticulating as you speak, “Suguru, I can’t tell my boyfriend, ‘I think I have feelings for your bandmate even though I’m still every bit as in love with you as I was when we first got together.’ If he did that to me, I would be devastated.”

Suguru frowns. “But the longer this goes on…the worse the lie.”

“I can’t hurt him.”

“So tell him the truth. Tell him how you feel about me, but that you have no plans of ever leaving him.”

“Then what? Then he leaves the band and hates you?” You ask, the idea absurd to you.

“Then I talk to him, too,” Suguru says, “I tell him how I feel, and that I have no plans of taking you away.”

“You tried to kiss me the last time we were alone together.”

“I know,” He says, “but maybe if it’s out in the open…”

“He won’t want me ever near you again,” You protest, “it’s better if this stays a secret.”

“I don’t like secrets,” Suguru shakes his head. “What if I dropped hints? Let him figure out that I have feelings for you? And we’ll see what he does.”

“What good would that do?”

“Then he could control the situation. Would that make you feel better?”

If Choso was the one who picked up on it, he could approach you first, and then you could get a read for how he feels about it based off of the way he broaches the subject with you.

You take a breath before nodding. “Yeah…it would.”

“Okay,” Suguru nods. “Then we’ll do that. It’s going to be okay.”

Your heart throbs painfully in your chest, and suddenly those words of comfort have a lump growing in your throat. Why? Do you like Suguru that much? Is it really having such a great effect on you?

His palm touches your cheek, and you look up at him to see his golden eyes staring into yours. His voice is soft as he says, “tell me how I make you feel.”

There’s a flutter in your chest and you breathe out shakily. “I…I feel a pull. You’re always on my mind, and your music is all I play. When I’m with you, I just…I want to do every bad thing in the book with you. I want to know how you kiss, how it feels, how you…”

Your words trail off as you realize how insane it sounds out loud. Still, he presses on.

“How I taste?” He fills in for you, deep voice low and syrupy, just above a whisper. It robs your own voice from you. You nod your affirmation.

His hand soothes your hair back. “What else?”

You inhale slowly to try and gain miniscule composure. “How you’d hold me…what it would be like if we were together…the sort of things we’d say, how we’d act, if we could just be a couple…”

“You like me bad,” he teases you lightly, and it commands a hot flush to your face.

“Don’t…”

“I’m right there with you,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. “I want to wake up next to you, to see you wearing my clothes, to make meals for you, to go out with you and spoil you…I want to make you happy.”

Your eyes close, and he takes the opportunity to ghost his lips over yours, the metal of his lip rings prompting a hitch in your breath. You begin to pull away, but he chases you, tilting slightly to plant a kiss to your cheek instead. You meet his eyes, and his own hold such an intimate gaze within them that you feel it sear through a layer in your heart. He keeps going; his lips meet the skin of your jaw, hands holding you by your back, and soon he’s trailing a line down your neck, arising goosebumps over the flesh he touches, the soft clicks indicating the cadence of each kiss only heightening your insanity.

Having lost a part of your conscience in his embrace, you return it, holding him close to you and relishing in his affection. You thread your fingers through his hair, pulling it from the tie it had been in, and he breathes out in relief, the warm air brushing over your skin.

His mouth stops at the neckline of your shirt, eyes glancing up at yours.

“I want to keep going,” He states, lowly and softly. You swallow thickly, afraid of the lack of control you might display if you told him what you really wanted to say. Luckily, he doesn’t put you in that position, and he takes a breath, straightening up and putting some distance between you. “I won’t, though.”

Your eyes hold his for a moment, and then you move to speak.

The lock in the front door turns.

Choso.

You hurriedly sit on the couch, an appropriate distance from Suguru, and understanding the situation immediately he follows suit on the other end. The door opens just in time, and your boyfriend walks through the door.

“Chos’,” you greet with a smile, standing and moving to kiss him.

“Hey,” He kisses you back before noticing Suguru on the couch. “Oh, hey. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Suguru puts on his signature disarming smile. “We happened to be out at the same grocery store. I had to get more tea for Larue, and the place I usually go was out so I came over here.”

“Yeah, I ran into him and invited him over,” You corroborate. Nothing we said was a lie. Just not the entire truth.

“Cool,” Choso smiles easily, not phased or suspicious in the slightest. He removes his shoes and drops his keys in the basket near the door.

“How was hanging out with Kechizu?”

“Ah, same old,” Choso shrugs, “just played games and had pizza.”

“That’s good,” You say, moving to sit back down on the couch. “I got us restocked for the week with groceries since I got a little bored.”

“Oh, good. We can just use Sunday for a lazy day then,” Choso states, moving to sit where you were sitting on the couch. That leaves one spot; between him and Suguru.

Seeing the turmoil flash behind your eyes, Suguru stands.

“Well, it’s getting pretty late. I should get going home since it’s a little far from here.”

“Oh, you sure? You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Choso asks, “we can just order in and hang out, you’re not imposing.”

You take a breath, and Suguru shakes his head. “I appreciate it, but I gotta run some more errands before I go back. I’ll take you guys up on that on another day if you’ll have me.”

“Sure,” Choso shrugs, “you’re welcome any time.”

“Thanks,” Suguru smiles, then walks to the door. He passes you, and you get another whiff of his jasmine cologne, your last dose for the night. He starts putting his shoes on. “Thanks for having me over.”

Recognizing he’s talking to you, you smile in a way that you hope is convincing. “Sure, it’s no trouble. We’re friends now too, after all.”

Something gleams in his eyes at that. The denial you’d given him last time has been overwritten. “Yeah? Sweet. Hey, would you mind if I got her phone number, Choso? It’s not weird, right?”

What?

You look at your boyfriend, who shakes his head. “No, it’s not weird,” He chuckles lightly. “Go ahead. It’s probably a good idea in case of emergency anyway.”

“You’re right,” You agree, moving over to Suguru to take his phone and put your number in it. You text yourself so you have his.

“Thanks,” He says, taking his phone back. “Well, I’ll see you Monday, Choso! You guys have a good night.”

“You too.”

Choso raises his hand in a wave, and you close the door behind him once he leaves, locking it.

Once you turn around, you see your boyfriend’s eyes traveling over your figure, and it makes you feel warm.

“Chos’?”

“You look really beautiful like that.”

You take a look at yourself. Your hair’s kind of messy, and all you’re wearing is one of his sweatshirts and shorts.

“Thanks,” you laugh, moving to sit beside him. “I’m not wearing anything special.”

“So?”

That catches you by surprise. He’s usually not this bold. He reaches out and puts a hand on your leg, running it up your thigh.

“I’ve been thinking about us…” Choso says, “and…that time when I got a little flustered after you wanted me to choke you.”

Your mouth dries up. “…oh?”

“Do you want me to be rougher?”

Your next breath is uneven. “W-well, I…”

“I need you to tell me what you want,” He says, voice dropping a bit in volume. “You know I’ll give you anything.”

“A-anything?” Your voice is thin. He nods seriously.

“Anything in the world.”

You find yourself nodding. “I want…I want to try it rough.”

His lips are on yours in the next instant, and everything after that is a blur of bruising touches, the hurried removal of clothes, and an insistence in your boyfriend you've never seen before.

He has you laid out on the couch, both of your clothes strung around the room unimportantly, his mouth trailing kisses down your neck. A reminder that Suguru had been there not even an hour ago has you feeling a whirlwind of emotions; the shame gives way to arousal.

Choso’s teeth near your nipple has you gasping right back to the present, and you look to see him sucking marks into the soft flesh of your chest. His hands are on your thighs, spreading them, and without warning you feel the glide of his length against your mound.

He begins grinding against you as he marks your breast up in hickies, pulling noises from you that you don’t recognize.

His tongue runs over your nipple and you cry out, arching your back as he doubles down and continues to run his tongue over the hardened peak, your sexes rubbing intimately together in a way that makes your heart feel close to bursting.

It’s like he’s a new man tonight…he’s never this into it.

His teeth graze the tip of your nipple and you shudder, wrapping your legs around his waist and beginning to move your hips with his. He groans at that, moving to the next breast and giving it the same attention the first one got.

“Chos’,” you moan out, feeling one of his hands find the apex of your thigh. It’s only a second before two of his fingers find their way inside of you, slipping in with no resistance due to the way he’s masterfully turned you on. He starts pumping his fingers at a pace, the long digits reaching deep within you, making you shiver again.

The combination of his mouth and hand are enough to make your head spin.

He adds a third finger and begins moving down, sliding to his knees off the couch and readjusting you so that he supports your legs with his shoulders.

His lips scatter kisses and marks over the insides of your thighs as he continues to finger you, and not wasting any time, his mouth finds exactly where you need him, lips wrapping around your pearl and sucking as he pushes his fingers in deeper.

“Fuck,” is what leaves your mouth in a hiss, your hand gripping the couch tightly as he starts eating you out with gusto. “C-Chos’…”

He hums, tongue working wonders on you, and you think for a moment that you might actually lose sanity.

It’s not like he hasn’t done this before. It’s just that you didn’t think he could be so bold. Usually he goes slower, he never really leaves marks, and he sure as hell doesn’t curl his fingers inside you as he’s doing now—but you’re falling even deeper in love with him.

“Oh my god,” a moan leaves your mouth, and he licks a fat stripe up your swollen bud before attacking it again with a kiss. “Choso…”

His free hand finds your breast again, and it’s over soon after that—the way his fingers pinch and tease at your nipple combined with everything else he’s doing sweeps you over the edge swifter than you’re prepared for, and your orgasm slams into you with a cry of his name.

Or, rather, your first orgasm of the night.

He doesn’t stop there. He straightens up and climbs back between your legs on the couch, kissing you deeply as he lines up. Instead of asking, he takes, driving himself inside of you and making you take him despite the sensitivity of your walls.

You gasp as he begins moving immediately, nails digging into his shoulders. When you clench around him he groans, right in your ear, and you look up at him to see his face flushed prettily, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Another wave of lust for him takes over and you kiss him hard, nails dragging over his back. He mewls into your mouth and picks his pace up, the lewd, wet slap of your skin tell-tale to anyone who may be walking by the front door of your apartment.

That reminds you…the two of you have never done it on the couch before. He couldn’t wait long enough to get to bed.

Another one of your flutters around him causes his hips to stutter, and he ducks down, dragging his teeth over your ear before leaning up on his hands above you.

Then, one of them finds the base of your neck. Your lips part as he squeezes gently, focusing more power on the slam of his hips into yours. You feel him deep inside of you, the dull, harsh stretch of him forcing you to accommodate, and your eyes roll to the back of your head, voice reaching octaves you didn’t think you were capable of.

“I love you,” he breathes, kissing your open mouth, and you shiver from the contrast of his rough-fucking and the gentle declaration of devotion.

“I love you too,” it comes out of your throat like a wrecked sob, and amidst his panting, he reaches down and starts rubbing you in time with his thrusts, doing exactly what you need in order to finish for the second time.

As soon as you do, you feel him twitch, pressing deep into you to give you his load. Your own body shakes at the feeling, a sense of euphoria washing over you akin to the rush of opium.

When you open your eyes, his own mahogany ones are looking at you, a loose, dopey smile on his lips.

“Fuck,” you rasp intelligently, and he chuckles, burying his face in your neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, hugging him close.

No one is on your mind but him. What else happened today? You can’t remember. You can’t think at all.

Right now, Choso is your world.

___

A/N: calm before the storm me thinks. Seriously though, if you're sticking with this and still waiting for the updates, thank you so much, I appreciate you. I still plan to post on AO3, I'm just not sure when I'll have the time. Keep your eyes out for the next update!

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share! Taglist (comment here or my masterlist if you want to be added): @jaegerstan222 , @cosmicstarlatte , @dabisdolly , @moonriseoverkyoto , @propheticfire , @bontensbabygirl , @crlyhairedwxtch , @alittlebirdahgaselx , @okkovtsu , @notbellasstuff , @uchihabbynic , @polaroidnana , @childofilluvatar , @shadowfoxy , @jordan-network , @dreamtravelersade , @unmatchxd , @lucyrocks86 , @spineyy , @k3lbade , @xxbuckpoppi , @naughtygobbo , @slammynics , @roseambers , @luvingyouwasreallyhard , @hinachaaan , @redladyrae-blog , @spiteless-xo , @slutforaz , @bellaabee082 , @thedorklingqueen , @delayedrage , @poopwons , @pandisastergod , @username23345 , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @forest-haven , @midnaamethyste , @bihanspookies , @mysteriouskiller1 , @liyahthings

155 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 3 months

Text

Staking My Claim Part 5

We are almost done just one more after this one! I thought about posting this on Tuesday to give the first chapter of the second book of Boy With a Bat some love.

But with this one literally two chapters away from being finished it didn't seem fair to postpone this one.

Here we have Nurse Jeff and sweet Eddie.

Pt 1| Pt 2|Pt 3| Pt 4|

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Once they other three were gone Jeff turned to Steve and Eddie.

“Right the real reason I’m here is because I’m going to make you two don’t jump each other before Steve is well enough.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other and blushed.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jeff said, crossing his arms and leaning back on one foot.

“Eddie go get us some lunch and I’ll make sure Stevie here isn’t going to throw up again.”

Eddie nodded and grabbed his keys. He gave Steve a kiss on the cheek and dashed off, leaving Steve alone with Jeff.

Jeff turned on the light in the kitchen to better see Steve’s face. He held Steve’s chin and turned his head gently to the light and away from it.

“Your dilation is a little slow,” he said. “That’s not good.”

Steve nodded. “I’ve had concussions before. It feels a bit like that. The dizziness, the nausea, the pounding in my head.”

Jeff nodded. “I think I still have some anti-nausea medication and if I don’t, we can try some Pepto, okay?”

Steve nodded. “I wouldn’t have done anything,” he said softly.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“With Eddie,” he whispered. “Not before we got back to Hawkins, anyway.”

“Oh?”

Steve nodded again. “I’m bit too romantic for my own good. And having the chance I might ruin our first time with puking is the last thing I’d want.”

“First time?” Jeff asked over his shoulder as he went to the bathroom.

“I meant it when I licked him, he’s mine now.”

Jeff chuckled.

He came back out holding two bottles. “Looks like I have two kinds of anti-nausea meds. One is very heavy duty, so we’ll try the other one first. We don’t want to mix something heavier if the knock out drug is still in your system.”

Steve nodded.

“In fact,” Jeff muttered. “I should call my mom.”

He set the two bottles on the counter next to Steve and went to the phone.

After a brief conversation Jeff picked up the heavier medication. “She actually recommended the tougher meds to counter whatever was given to you. She even wants you to stop by on your way home so she can look you over.”

Steve blushed. “She doesn’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow and Steve ducked his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. My sister is a lot like you, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“She’s the oldest,” Jeff murmured, “so she was brought up that she had to take care of everyone else and couldn’t ask for help.”

“Oh.”

Jeff rubbed the top of his head. “Look, man. I get it, I really, really do. If your parents are as half the shit the rumor mill makes them out to be, you’ve been abandoned and neglected all your life. Somehow, someway you became the defacto older brother to the weirdest group of latchkey kids I’ve ever seen and you think you have to do everything for them because you didn’t get to have that. But thinking like that will only wear you down and out.”

“It’s hard,” Steve admitted. “They’ve been through so much.”

Jeff let out a sigh. “I get that too. You and those kids have been through some heavy ass shit. I also get that you think that because you’re the oldest you can’t tell them what you’re feeling because you don’t want to burden them.”

“You’re Robin and Nancy’s age,” Steve said quietly.

Jeff frowned, not quiet understanding the comment. Then it dawned on him. “Eddie isn’t.”

Steve’s head shot up. “What?”

“I know it’s hard to remember because he graduated with me and the other guys,” Jeff said. “But Eddie is older then you. He was supposed to graduate in ‘84.”

Steve blinked. “Oh. Yeah.”

“So lean on him,” Jeff said. “Yeah, you’re attracted to him. And you definitely want to fuck. But let him in emotionally, too. I think you’ll find he’s as a great a listener as he is a talker.”

Steve blushed.

Just then the door swung open to reveal Eddie with a large bag of McDonald’s.

“I didn’t know what you would like,” Eddie said with a grin, “so I got a little of everything I could think of.”

Steve smiled. “I’m sure I’ll find something I like then.”

They all dug in and polished off most the bag of fast food.

“Seriously,” Steve said, “why does greasy food always the best hangover cure?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know. It defies all logic. You would think it would be stuff that was easy on your stomach like toast and rice would be better, but nope!”

Steve took Eddie’s hand. “Thanks for taking care of me. I appreciate it.”

Eddie blushed to his roots. “You don’t need to thank me. I just did what the next person would have done.”

Jeff snorted. “Bullshit. You went above and beyond and you know it. There is no shame in accepting his thanks. You did good, man.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his embarrassment. “You’re welcome, Stevie.”

“I think you should go lay back down,” Jeff suggested to Steve. “We’ll be here if you need us.”

Steve nodded and wandered back to Eddie’s room. He closed the door and laid down, sure that he wouldn’t sleep as he had already slept a lot. But it appeared he needed it more than he thought as he drifted back to dreamland.

***

Part 6

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @lololol-1234 @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @live-the-fangirl-life @hellfireone @lublix @breealtair @croatoan-like-its-hot @f0xxyb0xxes @jamieweasley13 @r0binscript @confuseddisastertm @sleepdeprivedflower @thedragonsaunt @dissociatingdemon @dragonmama76

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #corroded coffin

209 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 4 months

Text

Roomies 5

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader | 2.2K - Previous

*This series will/does contain smut, angst, and fluff. Each chapter will have its own warnings for any potential triggering contents.

Chapter Summary - We are spiraling. Eddie is a rock. A shared best friend is in town for a visit. We've got some angst and bad behavior by our reader. The next chapter will feature more time with the shared best friend, and some important air clearing.

---

“Do not -” Eddie’s hand is on your reaching hand pinching the head of the arm on the record player that’s currently playing Black Sabbath. You’re not a fan, but you know the sound of Ozzy’s voice from the many years of friendship with Eddie. “- make me listen to your shitty music tonight. I’d rather sit in silence.”

“Don’t be a dick, Munson. Bikini Kill isn’t shitty. You’re just used to listening to that male chauvinistic garbage. You’re brainwashed into hating the girl bands fighting against that way of thinking.” The dig shouldn’t have much sting, it’s one you use a lot. It can be tiring defending your musical tastes all the time, and you know Eddie understands that.

His response isn’t the normal finger flick to your forehead, though. His face drops, and he lets go of your hand. “Uh, fine. Put it on if you want.” He turns to head back to the kitchen where the boxes of Chinese food are set up on the counter. No fight. He caved, he didn’t set you straight. He didn’t explain that his reasons for not liking the punk riot grrrl bands has nothing to do with their message, which he agrees with. He just lets you win.

Instead of Bikini Kill’s Demi Rep, you reach for Alice in Chains’ Dirt. Neutral ground. Sliding the disc from its sleeve, you wonder what new mines you might find hiding under the field of your friendship now. What else has changed without you realizing it. You wonder if every single interaction will be like this until eventually you’re both too exhausted to deal with it. And then what? You know what. And then it all fades away.

“So,” you approach Eddie from behind, hands clasped behind your back as if in private prayer, “what treats did you procure from Main Moon this fine evening?” You rest your chin on his arm, sneaking a peek at the inside of the containers as he opens them. “Oooooohhhh, you got spare ribs!”

Eddie laughs and mutters, “can’t disappoint my best girl, can I? Not when she gets that sauce all over her face every time she eats them.” You don’t see it coming before it’s too late. An arm wraps around your neck, and you're in a headlock you can’t twist yourself out of. He caught you off guard in a vulnerable moment, and now Eddie’s got sauce on his finger ready to spread it on your nose.

“Eddie, let me go!” You flail, but Eddie’s bicep remains firm, holding you against his side.

“Oh, Angel, we’re just getting a head start on the mess you’re gonna make.” Eddie’s laughing while his finger makes a meandering journey from the tip of your nose to your forehead. He even managed to get some on the inside of your left nostril. He releases you, grabbing your arm before you stumble too far and fall, and stands back to admire his handiwork. “Oh, you’re looking very beautiful. You should let me do your makeup more often.”

“You idiot,” you try and fail to keep laughter out of your voice, “I’m not eating the rib you just finger fucked. That one’s yours, Buddy.”

—

It was that takeout dinner, shared on the couch in your shared living room, that took the edge off. Eddie set the tone. The doubts started to calm. The looks between the two of you might last too long, there might be more excuses made to touch, but the fear that the end of your friendship had arrived dissipated. The routine set in. It was a relief.

When Friday night rolls around, you’re ready for a break. Three days off in a row. A miracle worthy of celebration. Convenient that your favorite spot happens to be below your apartment, and that you’re friends with the bartender. Heavy pours and free booze, and a short commute home. Ronnie’s in town for the weekend, the missing piece in your friendship with Eddie. The third Musketeer.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face,” Ronnie is close to your vanity’s mirror with a black eye pencil skating across her lower waterline, “he’s gonna shit his pants.”

“I’m just happy he’s got the rest of the weekend off. I thought I might have to spill the beans to get him to do it.” You’re rifling through your bag of lipsticks looking for the burgundy that’s your favorite. “He’s probably going to fucking murder me when he realizes I’ve been keeping your trip a secret.”

“Yeah, well, fuck him.” Ronnie fluffs her hair a little and adjusts the waist of her jeans, “last time he was supposed to go east to see me, he was neck deep in that waitress. Remember her? The one with the huge tracts of land?”

“How could I forget? She was the reason I didn’t see Eddie for 3 months. I thought he was gonna marry her or something stupid like that.” You laugh a little, ignoring the way your mind tries to compare yourself with the girl that Eddie was obsessed with only 6 months ago.

“What are we dealing with now? Any ladies I need to fight for his attention? He never tells me shit about his love life, but I definitely got the feeling the last time we talked that there was someone.”

You laugh, and hope that Ronnie doesn’t look too closely at the way your smile sits strangely on your lips, “I don’t know. Where Eddie decides to stick his dick is really not something I think about a whole lot. But I haven’t seen any evidence of a girl in the apartment.”

Ronnie looks at you with her head cocked and says, “Except for you, of course.”

“Oh, sure. Except for me. We both know I don’t count.”

—

Garland wrapped in Christmas lights runs along the outside counter of the bar. You’re happy to find most of the booths and barstools empty. You were worried that Eddie might be too busy to enjoy the presence of Ronnie when he’s trying to work. It really feels festive, you can smell a hint of cinnamon in the air and wonder if it’s the Christmas ale that they have on tap this time of year. And there’s Eddie, standing in the corner with a Santa hat sitting crooked on his head, and a tall blonde tugging on the end of his hair with a wide grin on her face.

“Who’s that?” You’ve forgotten that Ronnie is behind you for a second and you jump at the sound of her voice, “they look friendly.”

“I have no idea. Maybe she’s the new bartender,” your voice is quiet, afraid to draw his attention to you. You consider turning on your heel and heading back upstairs, but can’t with Ronnie here. “Let’s, uh, let’s go say hi.”

Eddie turns and catches sight of Ronnie, his oldest friend. His closest friend, next to you. Like a shot, he pushes past the blonde woman standing next to him to bring her into a big bear hug. They’re rocking back and forth and Eddie’s sparkling eyes are shining on you. He mouths, you’re dead, and then kisses Ronnie on the top of her head.

He hugs you next, holding you tight in his arms. It’s something that he hasn’t done in recent days, a familiar thing that reminds you that this is Eddie. Your Eddie. The smell of smoke and Old Spice and the feel of his stubble on your forehead make you forget the way only moments ago you were full of dread. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell you she was coming.”

“She wanted it to be a surprise. She’s been missing you.” you say into his chest, not wanting to break apart from his embrace just yet. You’ve been missing him too, despite the fact that you see him every single day. Eddie pulls away and puts an arm around both you and Ronnie.

“Consider me surprised. I can get out of here early, maybe. It’s dead, and Laney can close up.” Eddie turns his head to call back to the girl that’s made her way back behind the bar, “what do you think? You think you can handle closing alone?”

“Sure, Eddie.” She smiles at him, and turns to the old man sitting at the end of the bar. She rests her elbows on the bar, hip jutted to the side and you catch a glimpse of a line of red fabric - a thong - poking out from the hem of her jeans.

“Laney, huh? She looks like she’s got some talents.” Ronnie shrugs out from under Eddie’s arm and sidles up to a bar stool. You look up and see Eddie averting his eyes from the ample derriere of the bartender in question. You can see his cheeks darken under the Christmas lights.

“She’s an excellent bartender, and we’re lucky to have her. Shut up, and maybe I’ll get the two of you some free drinks.”

—-

Shots on shots on shots. Round 3, and the feeling that this is a mistake has already started to pass. Now it’s just fun. It’s warm. You’re loose. Fear is a distant memory, and your lips move without the barrier of common sense. Eddie’s red rimmed eyes are on the girl behind the bar, again. It’s not in your head, because you see Ronnie shaking her head on the other side of him.

“One more round for me and my friends, Baby.” Eddie’s low voice hums through his chest, and you see the way his thumb runs across the back of Laney’s hand when he passes her a $20.

“No problem, Eddie.” She answers back, and her tongue flicks against her lips before she turns towards the cash register.

“Subtle.” You bite your words into the moment, causing both friends next to you to turn their attention to you. “Don’t let us stop you. You’ve been eye fucking each other all night. Might as well get it out of your system so you can maybe pay attention to Ronnie for more than 10 seconds.”

“Hey now,” Ronnie reaches around behind Eddie, “we’re good.” She’s squeezing your forearm in an attempt to ground you before things escalate.

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve been rude all night for no reason.” Ronnie’s arm drops at Eddie’s words.

“You’re rude, Eddie. I can’t do this.” The room has started to tilt, and you can feel the words tangling in your head. “I’m going for a walk. Have fun.” You lean over the bar and shout in the direction of the bartender, “Good night, Laney. I hope you and Eddie are very fucking happy together.”

The humiliation rises inside you like a tsunami as you stumble over your feet and down the steps outside of the bar and onto the sidewalk. It’s cold, but you can’t feel it, the whiskey is keeping you warm from the inside out. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you wonder if you could sleep in your car tonight. You wonder if there’s somewhere you could go.

Instead, you circle the block and peek into the frosty windows of the bar. Eddie and Ronnie are getting up from their barstools, and Laney is leaning over the bar to give Eddie a kiss on the cheek. You start up the stairs full of shame, anger, and confusion. You’re going to bed, and you’ll pretend to be asleep before Ronnie crawls in next to you. You know that this time, the light of the morning will only put a spotlight on your bad behavior.

—-

The sunlight sneaks in through the blinds, and your eyes crack open to see the room spinning in front of you. You groan, and an arm wraps around your waist. Ronnie. You see a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin sitting on your bedside table. You sit up a little and take 2 pills with a small sip of water. And another sip. One more, and then it hits you. The things you said last night.

“Oh no, what did I do?” You ask yourself. And then you notice that the hand around your waist is bigger than it should be. You should have known by the smell of him, that scent that calms you and makes you feel cared for.

Eddie’s fully dressed and laying on top of your blankets, face pressed into the pillow you bought specifically for Ronnie to use while she stayed with the both of you. He must have - what? - been worried about you and passed out while checking on you? Probably. You’re surprised Ronnie didn’t crawl in between the two of you, sharing a bed is something the three of you have done many times.

You lay back down and push your face into Eddie’s chest. You’ll take his comfort for now. Let the sadness and humiliation leak out of your eyes and onto his cotton shirt. For now, you breathe in the smell of his neck, and let his curls tickle your cheek, thankful for the opportunity to steal this peaceful moment before the questions need to be answered.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb

220 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 7 months

Text

ribbons release

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: happiness for once. until it is not. ronnie's love for foreshadowing strikes again.

an: not a fan of this chapter, but we digress. read it and do not kill me if you don't like it.

song: not explicitly mentioned, but this chapter reminds me of about you by the 1975. ratty healy, I hate you but you ate on this one thing.

previous part linked here

“I ju-just sent my loc-location, Eren.”

“I got it, Y/N. I just need you to hold on for ten more minutes, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.”

Seattle is famous for rain. You understand that all too well now. After what you’ve counted as twenty-seven minutes - from when you went to take the trash out to the mailpost you’re hiding behind now - you’re all but soaked. Drenched.

Your phone is blowing up with texts, the rain is only getting harder, and the mini black dress and ribbon in your hair do no favors to keep you warm. You slide out of your call with Eren and quickly scan through the messages, buzzing so loud they’re blocking Eren’s voice.

reiner: so, so proud of you always!!! stop being a big famous pop star and go back to being the little twerp who needs my help killing spiders on set :/

levi: I love you too, kid. And on a real listen, we really do love the album.

armin: ann and i are smelling a triple threat on the horizon. love you to the moon and saturn <3

connie: i was accidentally pooping while i listened to dorothea for the first time and i think the combination of those two things at once gave me like a really visceral reaction. im not ok. u are amazing.

mikasa: u are givg me aneurysm. pls don’t forgor to call me the scnd ur okay.

erwin: Call me ASAP.

erwin: Not urgent. Just feeling emotional about my little Canadian reaching hearts all over the world.

king of bitches (maybe: ryomen sukuna): Fluff shit indeed. Blow me a kiss when you beat James for Album of the Year.

danny: where is the album release post? it’s almost been half an hour.

You have bigger problems at the moment. Like the frozen piece of fabric you’re wearing. You should have named the album sweaters or scarves or something. Then at least you’d be warm. And blend in with the paparazzi.

Fuck.

“W-wait, Eren. Y-you ca-n’t b-be the one to get me.” you murmur, shivering through your teeth.

“Do you want to stay with someone else? I know nice people here. My neighbor is in her late forties and has like two middle school aged girls that are really nice. They’d take care of you, I promise you can trust them and-” he rambles.

“N-no. I want to st-stay with you. But pa-papara-zzi. S-send ss-omeone e-else.”

“Paparazzi? Why are-?”

“Er-eren.”

“Would it be that bad if it was me? Like it has to be someone else, Y/N?”

“Y-yes.”

“I have someone in mind. She’s leaving right now, okay?”

Eren’s sound is muffled over the line now, which has you digging your phone into your ear to catch the ends of what he’s saying.

Blast the heater….butt warmer on before she’s in the car….bring it up and I will kick your freeloading….

“Y/N?”

“H-here.”

“Good. I’m sending her. Don't get upset, this is the best I could do, okay? I-I promise she’s actually nice. You can trust her and-and I’d never send someone who would do something bad.”

“O-okay. I t-trust you. J-just get me ou-out of th-this, please.” you whimper, praying to god the rustling behind you is a rabbit and not the group of them finding you.

“I’m trying sweetheart, okay? She’s speeding. She’s on Main and Third, three lights and she’s there.”

That’s when you see it. The flash of the camera. And hear five consecutive clicks right after. You look around the periphery, before you see two of them, two tall guys speed walking closer to where you’re hiding.

So you do the only thing you can. Stand up and run instead.

You scramble up off the pavement, hiking your dress down, and keep running down the block. Climb up the gates, knock over trash cans to block the way, anything to stop them. And when you look back, after who knows how long, you realize they’re gone.

And sit flat on the messy pavement, finally lifting the phone back up. Only to realize Eren’s no longer on the line because your phone is dead. You drop it straight into your lap and dig your hands into your head, covering your ears to stop the pounding sound of the rain from getting any louder.

God. Just breathe. Whoever is coming to get you is on the way. They’ll come get you and then you’ll be out of this mess.

You hear three resounding clicks and a flash of a light to look up at two different paps, two girls this time, getting a straight on picture of you. And all you can do is put your head down in your lap and cry.

They already got the picture. There’s no point in trying to run out of it anymore.

“Y/N.”

“Pl-please. I’m b-begging you. You already got your picture and can ss-spin it into whatever you want. I-I’m still a person, please. Just let me go.” you respond, the tears blinding your sight of vision.

You feel a towel being wrapped around your shoulders and soft hands lifting you up by your arms. And then all of a sudden you’re in a warm car, being sped out of the neighborhood past the groups of paparazzi in between the houses, and not directly across from them having your picture taken.

You’re in a car. You’re okay. You’re leaving. You’re okay.

You lean back and breathe hard, phantom sobs still racking out of your chest, trying to register that you’re almost there. Safe behind closed, triple locked doors.

“D-did you tell Eren?”

“Yes. He’s not far, we’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay. T-thank you. I’m Y/N.”

“Lana.”

You turn your head to actually take in the driver this time, to be met with the Lana you feared. Ricky’s ex-girlfriend, Lana. She has short brown hair - entirely different from her long, beachy waves from the Girlfriend incident - a pointed nose and a very clenched jaw.

“Th-there are more blankets on the floor. I pumped the heater pretty hard, but I’ll turn all the fans your way. And anything you could possibly need is being rushed to the house for you, so just don’t worry, okay?”

“I appreciate it. Thank you for coming to get me. I-I”

“Please don’t thank me. I just-”

She takes a harsh intake of breath and turns to give you a look, her mouth upturned.

“He locked you out, didn’t he?” she whispers.

“Yeah.” you respond.

“What did you do?”

“I told him I didn’t like him back.”

She turns her head towards you, a look of confusion on her face.

“It was a PR thing.”

She snorts.

“Your managers must hate you.”

“I’m starting to think they just might.”

“Well. Don’t feel bad. Not for a fucking second. Just because he likes you, doesn’t mean he’s entitled to you reciprocating back. You like who you like. And if I were you, I wouldn’t stop liking a guy like Eren for a skeeze like Ricky either.”

You lean against the glass, hot air blowing in your face, as you take in her expression - so enraged, so exasperated, so furious that it gives you a chill. But when she looks over and gives you a halfhearted smile, you see the pained expression there too.

That’s when you pinpoint it. Lana reminds you of Historia.

“I’m sorry.” you respond.

“For?”

“You knew he locked me out. He must have done it to you too, no?” you whisper, the tension in the air delicate.

She swallows hard and clenches her knuckles on the steering wheel, eyes laser focused on the red light shining on her face. And beyond the original striking features - her sharp jaw and nose - you see the softness too. The dimples, the wrinkles near her eyes, the light brown freckles.

“I wanted to take time off from acting. It-I did a role that was really traumatic and I just needed a break. And he was just about to go on tour and he wanted me to come to support. Like a little cheerleader.”

“So he locked you out?”

“For two days. He-he’s just. A lot of the fame stuff got to him when he was really little. And now he’s got this convoluted sense of self-image and it just- I don’t know. He’s got problems.” she responds.

“I’m sorry. Really, that’s-”

You stop talking, words failing you. And maybe it’s the way your head was frozen ten minutes ago and it’s being melted now, or that the picture they took is going to leak soon, or that there is no good thing to say to something shitty like this. It only took him three months to turn on you, which you’re guessing is generous now. She must have infinite patience for putting up with it for an entire year.

“In a weird way, I’m glad it’s me and not Eren. You- this does something for me. Making sure you’re not out there for two days, it-it helps me.” she whispers, looking over to give you a smile.

“I really appreciate you, Lana. Thank you. And I-I’m not mad at you for the Girlfriend thing. You had every right to do that.”

“Y/N. I have every right to drag Ricky James’ name through the mud. But not yours. And I- shit. Please don’t tell Eren we talked about this. He’s going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“He told me that if I brought it up, he’d kick me out of his house. I kind of stay there because I-I hate living in our townhouse on set because of how toxic it is and he was nice enough to offer. And he made it very clear that I have to pick you and make sure you’re okay, not make you uncomfortable or anything. We’re here to take care of you and-”

“I brought it up. I’ll deal with him if he gives you a hard time. I used to be really good at that type of thing.”

“I know for a fact that you could tell him to twirl in the air like a show pony and he’d do it.”

“I’ll test the theory and let you know.”

She laughs, giving you a smile which you warmly return. Your phone buzzes in your lap, finally revived, and you send a quick message to Mikasa and Jean before shutting it off.

“I-I didn’t know that it was going to go that far. I knew the song and that we were just going to sing it. Let people speculate it was about you. I-I didn’t know they’d have a girl who looked like you OR bring Eren up on stage. And Eren didn’t know anything about the song or the performance at all - they, they set him up.”

“Why would they do that? I mean, they got horrible backlash in the entire thing.”

“They thought people would like it. And they severely underestimated how much people love you. And they did it because, Eren- he. He doesn’t follow rules and-”

“Follow rules?”

“I’m saying too much. He-he’s going to get mad. Ju-just rest, okay? You’re okay now, we’re two minutes from the neighborhood..”

You give her a questioning look, which she returns with a dismissive shake. Stubborn - she’s Historia alright. You lean back in the chair and reach for the music nob, twisting it on. Only to be met with the Teletubbies Theme blasting through the car and a very flustered Lana turning the knob off.

“Fuck.”

“Teletubbies?”

“I-I can explain.”

“Please. I’d love to hear it.”

She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as the silence hangs in the air.

“Okay. Maybe I can’t explain.”

“No need. I appreciate versatile music taste in prospective friends. Especially classics like this.” you respond, cranking the music back on.

“Friends?”

“Don’t be silly. Not exaggerating, but I think you quite literally saved my life a few minutes ago. You’re like the La-La to my Dipsy.”

“Lame. You’re more of a Tinky-Winky. And anytime. We girls stick together, right?” she responds, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. Like Eren.

Did she learn the hand squeezes from Eren? Is he squeezing her hands? They live together so …are they dating?

“We’re here.”

You nod, appreciative of Lana more than maybe any person on god's green Earth, as she pulls into the driveway and helps you out of the car. It’s only after sitting that you’re realizing your legs are so bone dead tired that you’re barely moving on your own.

You move past the hood of the car as Eren walks into the garage, immediately beelining towards you. His hair is long again - it’s always changing every time you see him - and he’s all wound up with tensions sitting in his shoulders. His hands are warm and cupping your face, yanking the cold towel off and replacing it with a warm one.

“Hey. You-you nicked your face, Y/N. And you’re freezing, you-” he whispers, brushing his fingers across the skin near your eye that stings on touch.

Lana holds the door open as he leads you in, arms aggressively moving up and down your shoulders and his face all pinched up in concern.

“You’re good to go? I put your stuff out by the door.” Eren says, gesturing to Lana.

“Is she leaving?” you ask, looking up at Eren.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll be just us. And I’m sure Mika and Jean will drop everything to fly out for you tomorrow, I can tell them if you need me to and-”

“Well, don’t make her leave. She shouldn’t stay on that stupid set just because of me.” you respond.

Eren looks over and glares at Lana, who is now wide eyed and giving Eren a sheepish smile. Fuck. He asked her not to talk about that.

“Lana.” he says, in a warning tone.

“Eren. Chill out. I didn’t even-”

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that? You- she got drenched and the rain and you were talking about set?”

“It’s not like that! It just came up and-”

“Oh, for sure. You just happened upon it like you were a villager walking in a town square. Ooh Y/N. You just got drenched in the rain and chased by paparazzi, but more importantly, the girls I work with are super bitchy.” he responds, mimicking her voice.

“You-it wasn’t like that! You’re so aggravat-”

“Eren. Leave her alone.” you ask, looking up at him. And you’re sure you must look horrible because he immediately stops when he looks at your face again and signals for her to leave, which she’s receptive to.

“Okay. Lana, text me when you’re there. And check if you were followed on your way out.” Eren says.

Lana stops and holds both of your arms at your biceps, hands soft on your skin.

“Do call me if you need anything, okay? Especially Ricky related. Whatever you do, I’ll back you up, Tinky-Winky. ”

“Thank you, La-La. I’ll take you up on that.” you respond, giving her a warm smile.

“Oh god. No. No, you don’t get to be friends now. Fuck no, Lana. Please stick to the geriatric grandmas you play Scrabble with.”

“You’re just mad they beat you at mahjong last week. Because you’re a prissy loser.”

“And you’re-”

You jab Eren in the side, signaling him to stop, as they both nod and she slides her way out. From the way he’s arguing, the look on his face is so similar to the one he gives Connie when they argue, you know they could go on for years if they got the chance.

“Fuck you, Eren.”

“Eat shit, Lana.”

She flips him off as the door clicks shut behind her, the lack of her presence making you suddenly aware of your breaths. And of Eren, warm Eren rubbing into your shoulders and concerned green eyes staring into yours.

“I like her.” you whisper.

“Me too. Don’t tell her that though, she’s got an ego problem.” he responds.

You laugh, which has him smiling at you, and suddenly you’re sobbing. And on cue, Eren has his arms around you, his touch warm and his voice oh so soft that it kills you. That you haven’t seen him in two months. And haven’t talked to him for longer.

“Eren.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, it-it’ll be okay. I- we’ll fix this, okay? I’ll call Levi and Hange, whoever you want, they’ll all come and-”

You reach up, tangling your arms around his neck as he keeps nervously talking, trying to hold you closer even though it’s not physically possible. And he’s just so-

So familiar that he feels like home.

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N. Please stop crying, I-I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs, straight into your skin as you nod, trying your best to even out the sobs still leaving you. And slowly but surely, the stream slows and your breath evens out enough to get at least a few words out.

“Okay. Okay, okay. I’m okay.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“As much as I like holding you, you’re freezing. Take a shower first and we can do this all you want, okay?”

You pull back, wiping the tears off your cheeks and giving him a nod. He gives you a small smile, before placing his hands on your shoulders and leading you down towards the bathroom. And you don’t miss all the posters and pictures he has on his walls - one from each season of Attack of Titan, a few of him and Armin, and even one of him and Lana flipping off the camera together.

He pushes you into the bathroom and immediately turns on the shower all the way to the hottest setting, before turning around and putting his hands on his hips.

“Towels, clothes, shampoo. There’s soap in there already and take as long as you want. Sit in here for three days if you have to just- do-do whatever you have to do and-”

You pick up the bottle of shampoo, the lavender scented Pantene, the one that you’ve been using since you were fifteen. And you know, you know that Eren’s atrocious ass uses a three in one hair and conditioner so it’s not his.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Did you just happen to have the brand of shampoo that I use?”

“N-no. Those are Lana’s.”

“Then why are they unopened?” you ask, giving him a smirk.

He glares at you, before rolling his eyes and holding your face. And now he’s leaning so close, so close that your lips are only a few feet away from yours, when he talks.

“You know why you can’t make fun of me for keeping a spare of your shampoos in my house?” he whispers, green eyes burning in yours.

“Why?” you whisper back, stomach lurching.

“Because you’re actually here. I knew you’d come back to me.” he responds, giving your cheek a pinch before walking out.

And when you watch him walk out, giving you one last smile before he shuts the door, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Typical Eren. Funny, irritating, and soft all in one.

He’s the same as you left him.

You pad out of the shower, Eren’s hoodie and sweatpants ridiculously huge on you, as you follow the sweet smell into the kitchen. Eren is leaned over the counter, sliding vegetables into two bowls of ramen as you walk in.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Took a while. Thought you died in there.” Eren responds, pressing his hands to your skin to test how warm they were.

“I almost wish I did.” you respond, laughing.

Except Eren doesn’t find it funny and instead he’s dropping the utensils and standing at your side.

“Y/N.”

“I was joking!”

“Nothing about that was funny. Don’t ever joke about that.” he responds, rummaging through the drawers at your side before pulling out a little tube of gel.

Eren taps the top of the counter, which you jump onto, before he takes his place in between your legs. His hands are focused on reading the instructions, forehead all scrunched up in concentration.

“What’s that?”

“It’s like this…scar ointment or whatever. Helps things heal better, I want to use it on that cut on your pretty face.” he responds, twisting it open and squirting some on his finger.

He brings his hands to your face, eyes intently focused on your cheek. You hiss the second his finger makes contact with your skin, the tingling sensation catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts.” he whispers, smothering the cold gel down the side of your eye.

“I-I fell on the pavement. My knees are pretty bad too, Eren.” you whisper, which he nods at.

After he finishes, he’s carefully sliding the ends of your pants off and carefully placing the ointment on each of the jagged marks on your legs. And you eye the bowls of ramen at your side - knowing instantly that the one without mushrooms is yours - and reach for the food. The broth is so warm it soothes the aching feeling in your throat, still seasoned to perfection the way Eren always makes it.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you and Lana dating?”

He looks up from your leg and gives you a devilish smirk. And then starts laughing. Like full on, crouched over, tears from his eyes laughing.

“Okay. It wasn’t that funny.” you murmur, rubbing your hands against the warm bowl and frowning.

“Oh god, Y/N. Jesus-”

“It’s a normal question! She lives with you, you trusted her to come get me, and you guys have a picture together in the hallway.”

“Are you jealous?” he asks, standing up and leaning straight into your space.

“Absolutely not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“You don’t need to get all embarrassed. Watching you kiss Ricky James made me want to break something, preferably his neck.”

You swallow hard at the mention of Ricky again, the thought of him and what happened was so far away because you were with Eren. In his space, in your shared bubble, after so long. And he catches on too fast because he’s already profusely apologizing.

“Hey. I didn’t mean to bring him up, I-I’m not trying to push you into telling me what happened it’s just-”

“No. No, Eren. It’s okay. I know. I-”

You breathe in hard and put the bowl of ramen down and reach for his hands instead. You keep your eyes focused on them - on the little mole on his left hand, the feeling of his knuckles underneath your fingers, and on him squeezing your hands three times before you start talking.

“Ricky and I were faking the relationship for PR. Since London Boy and all that, it was Danny and Sareen’s idea. That-that’s why I stopped talking to you, I-I felt bad. And I was ashamed that I was even doing it, I-I don’t know. The Little Women press and all that, it would just get people to stream and talk. Make me a triple threat. And then today, I- He told me he liked me. And I said I couldn’t do that right now. That I don’t like him back. I went to take out the trash because it was so awkward and then I was going to go home but he- he locked me out. And when I asked to come back in, he repeated the same words to me. That he couldn’t do that right now.”

Eren lifts your hands, still locked with his, and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles, as you continue. His lips burn your skin, still.

“I was out there and it-it was cold. And then I heard the cars and I saw seven paparazzi trucks, right on the porch. Ricky, his address isn’t leaked. No-no one knew I was there or that he was but they all showed up, right when I was out there and-”

“He called them, didn’t he?” Eren asks, his tone so harsh, so unyielding that it almost doesn’t sound like him.

“Yeah. And I ran, for so long. I- they got a picture. A few, I know they did and I was just so, so scared that I was going to be out there forever, that I was all alone and they were just going to-”

Eren reaches forward, wrapping you in his arms for what feels like the fiftieth time tonight, but you welcome it. Focus on his heart beating under your ear, running your fingers over his fish tattoo on his bicep, and on his soft, steady breaths.

“Eren.”

“Hm.”

“You didn’t say anything. What are you thinking about?”

“What I’m thinking isn’t productive for you to know right now.”

You look up at him, giving him a questioning look.

“Drop it, Y/N.”

“No. Tell me. I’m sure you’re mad and all but-”

“Mad? I’m fucking furious, I’m livid. That he fucking locked you out and left you in the cold. You-you could have been seriously hurt. You are hurt. And not only that, the fucking paparazzi. You-you ran in the cold, you fell, you can’t stop crying and-and- I’m going to kill this asshole when I see him next because it’s his fault you’re feeling like this.”

“Eren.”

“No. Shut up, Y/N. I’m being serious. I-I don’t like seeing you like this and don’t tell me not to. He hurt you. It’s that simple.”

You deflate, knowing Eren too well to know that he won’t drop this. Especially when he’s overly passionate, deep in the feeling right now.

“Okay. But can you just be here for me right now? I need you here and not all….tense and mad. B-Be soft. And warm.”

He stops, the frustration in his forehead dissolving as he takes a breath and smiles at you. Not fully, but it does the job.

“Okay. I can do that. Let’s watch Fruits Basket. And then go to bed.”

“You hate Fruits Basket.”

“But I love you. Enough to watch your weird bestiality adjacent show and pretend to like it.”

You smile and he reaches forward to pinch your cheeks.

“Look at that smile. There she is. There’s my sweet girl.” he whispers, voice all tangled in his throat.

You wake up to an empty bed, Eren’s side cold. And you pull his hoodie on before padding downstairs to find Eren’s phone pressed to his ear. He gives you a wave and points to the plate - a mix of eggs, french toast, and fruits - perfectly placed to perfection.

You give him a smile and he walks off, taking the phone with him. You frown as you watch him disappear, jabbing your fork through the cantaloupe.

What is he talking about that’s so important he doesn’t want you to hear?

You jump off of the stool and quietly pad towards the direction he walked, hiding in the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, staring at the picture right across - one of Levi and Hange kissing your cheeks at the vow renewal - and angle yourself to hear his words.

“Is he okay?”

“I’m glad. You tell me if you need anything else, okay?”

“Okay, Coco. I missed you too, yeah?”

Who the fuck is Coco?

He hangs up and you immediately scramble back to the kitchen, trying your best to stay inconspicuous as he comes back and gives you a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, the expression on his face almost tired.

“Hey sleepyhead. You okay?”

“Mhm. Food is really good, Eren.”

He gives you a smile as he sits at your side, eyes focused on you as you eat your food. He places both of your phones in front of you, and you spot yours with nearly a hundred notifications. But when you reach for it, Eren grabs your hand in the air and locks it on his own instead.

“Just-wait. Eat first.” he says, his tone hollow.

You turn your head to the side and take in Eren’s expression, downtrodden and uncharacteristically unexpressive. The complete opposite of Eren yesterday - moony eyes and soft smiles.

“Eren.”

“Y/N. If I ask you to do this for me, can you trust me and listen?”

“No. You-what’s wrong? You’re being weird.” you ask, reaching for his hand.

He looks over, the look indiscernible, as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“You-I took care of most of it, okay? Levi and Hange are coming. Just, don’t panic. You-it’s okay.”

“Eren. You’re scaring me. Just tell me.”

He takes a deep breath, cracking the knuckles in your hand as he nervously talks.

“You-your pictures leaked. The ones of you running last night. And-and people started speculating really fast - wondering why you were running and crying on the night your album released instead of celebrating it. And-and then Ricky, he tweeted a bunch of things.”

You pale. And reach for your phone, which Eren stops again.

“They’re lies. Obviously. You don’t need to read them, not yet. And Lana told me she’s ready to back you up, whatever you want, when you need it. But, that’s not-”

“What, Eren? Just spit it out.” you respond, frantically.

“They- Ricky’s fans are mad at you. They’re sending you death threats.”

“Oh.”

You deflate, staring at the cold mess of breakfast on your plate. Death threats. Hate, you’re no stranger too. Of people commenting on your looks, how bad your singing is, how lame you are. But wishing you were dead? Full on, unbothered and cursing your existence?

“And not just you, but your family too.” he whispers, watching your face fall.

Your family. Your parents, Colt, Falco-

“Excuse me. What did you just say?

Eren doesn’t respond and the tears fall immediately from your eyes, hot and angry as he reaches forward, immediately swiping them away. His expression's pained, he knows this all too well.

“I sent your family a security detail. Don’t worry. Colt was only minorly injured and-”

You stand up and grab Eren’s shirt, bundling the fabric into a fist in your hands, as you glare at him.

“Injured? What the fuck do you mean injured, Eren?”

He sighs, lifting his hands to move yours, and hold them. You’re still clenching hard, so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood, but he’s doing his best to uncurl your hands as he talks.

“They threw a brick through the window. And the glass, Colt was sitting right there. I was just on the phone with Falco, he said he’s doing better. The security detailing has medical so you don’t have to worry about that again and they’re both okay and-”

“No part of this is okay, Eren! Quit saying it’s okay when it’s not! They almost killed my brothers.”

“Y/N.”

“No. No, this is horrible, Eren. They-they don’t do any of this stuff. Falco’s barely thirteen. And Colt - he’s going to college. He’s not a celebrity, he’s not a singer, he’s just a student. How is he supposed to go out after this? Why- how is it supposed to be normal? And now, they’re going to be like us. They’re going to feel like they’re trapped in this fucking suffocating ass fish bowl and everyone’s watching and laughing at them and they just-”

“Y/N. Stop. It’s not going to-”

“Falco’s too soft for this. He’s just a kid, Eren. I can’t- no. This isn’t fair. Eren, they didn’t even do anything. They’re literally just related to me, they just love me and they’re getting hurt because of it. You- you’re probably getting dragged in the mud too. Everyone who helps me gets subjected to this, loving me comes with this big thing behind me and I can’t even keep people who get it with me. I let you go when you were the only person who understood and I messed it all up and got myself involved with Ricky James of all people and-”

“Y/N. Stop. Please."

You sit flat on Eren’s floor, head in your hands, and cry, teardrops falling straight onto the floor. And Eren’s sitting there with you, with your big mess of jumbled feelings and mistakes, and trying his best to help you with it.

That’s how Levi and Hange find you two, after pocketing the spare key Eren told them about. After he insistently called them and payed for a private jet, going on and on about how Y/N needed them. And here you two are, despite their original conceived notions that you two were fighting, on the floor, in each other’s arms.

“Some things never change, huh?” Hange whispers.

“Yeah. They keep fucking crying every time we see them.” he whispers back.

Between Levi and Hange - Jean, Mikasa, and Connie who make it out that night - and Eren and Lana, they fix things. Most things.

Ricky’s narrative about you is clear cut - half-true and half-fake. Your team forced him to date you and defend you for PR purposes, after the Girlfriend incident. There was an agreement that you two would write certain songs, make certain appearances, and support each other.

But then Ricky turns the gate. Says that you’ve deeply, severely hurt him. That you led him on, that you used him to boost your own ego, and that you were dangerously obsessed with fame and not him. That you were all things - heartless, fake, that he doubted if you were even a real person. A glorious pop-star, empty and hollow on the inside.

And people jump on it fast. Citing the fact that you would throw away your friendship with Historia to be famous, that you stopped dating Eren when he stopped being successful, that you can go to tours but not to Mikasa or Jean’s birthday parties.

The worst part? Ricky lied, but the things they pointed out were true. Every mistake you make is on display and that people make it a point to draw attention o it. That you really were in too deep, too deep into pleasing Sareen and Danny, and being a triple threat that you forgot that they were all there too.

Eren, especially. Sweet, sweet Eren who saved you, who held you when you needed him.

You look over at him and Lana, the two of them very aggressively debating how to use their last turn of their daily Wordle, and feel your heart deflate.

You dropped the ball. You’ll never make it up to him.

Lana, in her infinite kindness, has chosen to share her own story, as a corroboration for yours. That Ricky taunted, mocked, and harassed her the entire time they were dating. That you're anything but the things he says. Because she’s had enough and she’ll do it to help out her Tinky-Winky. (Much to Eren’s dismay, he hates that you’re both becoming closer as time goes on.)

And to complement the announcement, Lana asked for one thing. To go out in style. You wrote a song with her and promised her that she was going to be the lead actress in the music video. A girl rage moment, like The Man. Danny and Sareen approve the move, making no comments or concerns about anything else that happened, and ask to be involved when the time comes.

You sit on it for a few days. Till you’re ready. But where you are now - with these people - needs to stay for a little longer. Before you brace everything again.

“Yo.”

You smile, opening up space for Connie on the couch for you.

“Hi Con.”

“Deep in your thoughts there, princess. Thinking about how your album is about to go Multi-Platinum?”

“No. Just the entire thing.” you respond, frowning.

Connie rolls his eyes, reaching forward to squish your cheeks way too hard.

“Ricky, when I catch you, Ricky-” Connie says under his breath,

You snort, reaching forward to push Connie off. You focus back on Eren and Lana, who are now pulling each other's hair and a nice string of insults, as Mikasa and Levi brew their tea, entirely unbothered in the back.

And when the screen in front of you flashes, when your third album goes Multi-Platinum after a week of being released, they’re all climbing on you. Jean and Mikasa are hollering in the back, Connie and Lana are jostling you in the air and pressing kisses to your cheek, and Eren, Levi, and Hange smile at you, the three of them enveloped in their own hug, across the way.

You split your separate ways at the end of the week, when you’re ready. Connie, Jean, and Mikasa return to set, Lana and Eren are gone with the wind, and Levi and Hange disappear again.

When you sit on your plane back home, it sits in. How lonely this entire thing is. How a week full of your friends who love you only happened because of this sickening thing. That it's not a given, that they're presence is only in the bad times and almost never the good.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you pick up your phone to read the notification.

eren: don’t be a stranger. fish like to swim in schools, not alone.

It’s something that rings in your mind, time and time again. When everyone else wins the war, when you keep performing and letting them take and take, for the sake of the work. For the art, for your dream.

And when you give up acting, singing, and dancing at the end of it all and make zero intentions to ever do any of this again, the question still bothers you.

If fish like to swim in schools, why did Eren push you so far away? Why was he so intent on swimming alone? Where you couldn't follow?

eren: I'm not saying that for you. and I know that this is selfish but...

eren: I need you just as much as you need me.

Fucking liar.

next part linked here

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms

319 notes · View notes

b0xerdancer-writes · 5 months

Text

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 3

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that hes already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander (I love Mor but it’s a plot point for later on I promise!), cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,941

Notes: Part 3 is here, bit of a shorter chapter but im happy with where I left it off at, lots of Lucien and Eris bonding this chapter. Enjoy sweet affectionate drunk Eris. Not proofread at all. I posted this on my break. Posted on wrong account earlier oops!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You promised me we could go dance when I got back.” Happily intoxicated and finally relaxed, he wrapped his arms around me surrounding me with his scent of firewood and cinnamon.

Lucien gave me an apologetic look from over Eris’s shoulder, as Eris nuzzled into my neck and hummed sweetly. A blush crept to my face at the overly affectionate display from the eldest Vanserra brother. His breath fanned across my collarbone as purred against me and I couldn’t help but feel an ache in my chest wishing for this to be a regular thing that I got to experience, but I was drawn from my spot as the forms of Azriel and Rhys talking with the other reentered Rita’s. I tapped Eris lightly on the shoulder and he made a hum of acknowledgement, his honey amber eyes seeking out my own as he moved to pull me towards the floor.

Just as I moved to stand myself I felt a squeeze of my hand from Mor, who was giving me a look that was a mix of sympathetic and apologetic.

“I..,” she looked down into her lap where her other hand rested. “I never meant to lie, and I never meant for it to get so out of control like it is now. I, just, I’m sorry. I mean it. For what happened.”

I gave her a soft smile and squeezed back, biting back any bitter remarks that echoed in my brain after all these years of holding contempt against her. “Hey, no worries. We all have to do and say things to get by.”

She smiled softly back at me and moved her hand from mine into her lap as she let Eris pull me to the dance floor. She took a sip of wine and her shoulders deflated as Azriel and Rhys slid into the booth with her. Lucien had moved to the bar talking with the bartender there, though I couldn't see if he was ordering another drink or not.

Eris pulled me close to him away from the prying eyes of the inner circle as he put his hands around my waist and tucked me into his chest, a slight rumble echoing there that I could only feel through the music. The music was a slower one then what normally came from the live bands that rotated through, and Eris used it to his advantage as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, a small tilt of curiosity in his voice.

He brought my wrist up to his lips and pressed them to the small tattoo barely bigger than a fingernail. “What kinda deal did you make with her, hmm?”

I moved to cup his face with the same hand he kissed. “You're too far gone to understand the significance of what it means right now if I told you.” I smiled softly, moving to pull him with the music as it began picking up into a faster beat, a new song.

He raised a brow at me with a cocky, sarcastic, yet relaxed look on his face. Mischief danced in his eyes, I’d never get used to how good that looked on him.

“I’m sure even in my haze I’ll understand.” He smirked as he pulled me tight against him, a move that was influenced by a mix of the music and trying to lure me into giving him what he wants; A move I knew all too well, that managed to bring me to my knees everytime.

I sighed as I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down so he could hear me over the pounding music. “It was a deal to get her to stop slandering you so much, I didn;t even think it was going to be a deal. Think she made it so I would understand how much she was sorry for everything she did.”

His eyes twinkled, as a smile bloomed on his face that made him practically glow. He cupped my face with both hands, eyes locking with mine. “You stood up for me again? Made a whole bargain just so I wouldn’t be slandered?”

I nodded and he purred loud enough I could hear it even with the blaring music. My heart skipped a beat as he dropped my face and pressed my body into his, leaning down to whisper into my ear.

“Darling,” he mused “I will never be able to repay you for all the favors you do for me. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to my temple before he spun me around and pressed my back against his chest with a smirk.

“Plus, when you defended me against Azriel’s words earlier it was pretty hot little fox~.” He purred into my ear, blush crept into my cheeks and I spun out of his hold.

He’s just drunk. There was no meaning behind his words really, just trying to get a rise out of me. “Get it together Eris, quit playing these games of yours.” I rolled my eyes and he let out a childish giggle.

“Okay, Okay fine. You win.” He surrendered but the mischief in his eyes wasn't gone.

He took my hand in his and spun me into him grabbing at my hands to lift me into his arms, my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. He smiled wickedly at me, cheers erupted around us as the song came to a dramatic close. My eyes scanned the crowd behind Eris, everyone must have been watching us dance, he had managed to pull me into the center of the floor without me realizing.

He smirked at me and I leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Sly fox.”

His hand that supported my weight on my ass was a searing heat against me though he wasnt using any of his power. I jumped from his grasp to pull him into a quick bow. I was going to need several more drinks if this was how the night was going to proceed, sly remarks and lingering touches all masked under the influence of alcohol.

Song after song played and we let eachother lose ourselves in the others' touches and remarks. Fuck it, if this was temporary I was bound and fucking determined to enjoy what attention like this I could get from my mate, even if he didn’t know that little fact he seemed to be enjoying it just as much as I was. Eventually as the night grew later I felt Rhys’s claws against my shields and I greeted him with a grumble for interrupting.

“Heading home, Feyre is starting to miss Nyx. Have fun, but not too much fun. Sorry for earlier I should have stepped in, I know you wouldn’t have let anyone talk about Feyre like that in my absence.” I felt his power rub against my conscience apologetically, it felt sad and remorseful.

“Have a goodnight Rhys, tell Feyre night for me too.” I laughed softly. “Don’t worry Rhys, I'll be good. I wont say it’s okay cause its not and your right but I’ll forgive you brother. I love you, have a goodnight.”

“I will, love you too.” He slipped out of my thoughts with an affectionate caress and my shields slid back into place.

As I returned my attention to Eris he was pouting, brows furrowed as he looked into my eyes. “What’s wrong Eris?”

He let out a huff like a child throwing a tantrum. “Tell Rhys to leave you alone, it's us time.”

I smiled and wanted to laugh at his childish behavior but bit it back as I smoothed out his hair. “Don’t worry you poor thing, he's gone now, he was just apologizing and saying good night.”

He pouted further when I called him a poor thing and it made me smile softly, a warmth blooming in my chest, but once he noticed my full attention was back on him he perked up. We danced for a while longer till the alcohol seemed to lessen from his system and he deflated as he held me close.

“I have to go back to Autumn soon.” He sighed, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.

I couldn’t stand seeing him upset. “Welcome back to the land of the coherent.” I joked trying to cheer him up and I felt him smile against me.

“Thank you, I mean it. You always put me first and I’ll never be able to repay you for all of it.” He mumbled into my shoulder.

I rubbed at his shoulders as he leaned against me for a moment before I began pulling him off the dance floor. “I gotta close out our tab but then we can go relax for a bit before you have to leave, okay?”

He nodded, eyes not glimmering nearly as much as they had been and my heart ached for him. I pulled him with me to the bar, the tender busy making drinks told us it would be a minute before he could get to us. Eris bid his time wrapping his arms around my waist and buried his face in between my shoulders. I held his hands that were firmly clasped around me with one of mine as I finally closed our tab out. He growled under his breath when I made him release me so we could leave the bar and I swatted his hand softly with a giggle.

“You big teddy bear, we do have to leave the bar you know? You wanna go to the house of the wind? Or I actually share an apartment with Lucien in the city we can go there?” I crooned at him and felt him giggle into my shoulder.

“-partment” He cut himself off as he mumbled into my back.

“Wanna winnow or walk?” I rubbed at his forearm softly connecting the freckles that littered his skin.

“Walk, I don't know if I can winnow without getting sick.” He looked up from my shoulder, only his eyes showing over my shoulder. The gold and orange flecks in his amber eyes illuminated by the faelight signs behind the bar advertising the different brands they carried.

My breath caught in my throat as I entwined my hand with his and led him from the bar. He grumbled under his breath as I stepped out of his grasp. “I was comfy.”

I had to fight a giggle. “And I promise you, you can be comfy again when we get to the apartment.”

He mumbled a fine and moved to step in front of me so he could hold the door open for me to pass through. “Fine. I guess that's an acceptable promise then.”

I smiled up at him as I passed and turned around to offer my hand out to him again. A smile crept onto his face but exhaustion was present in his eyes as he entangled his hand in mine.

The walk to the apartment was slow, purposely though, so Eris could postpone having to put that mask back on and return to his court. It would probably be a week till I saw him again, a week for him that would be full of having to strategically put on a mask around his fathers court till he could replace them and build it the way he wanted to.

I felt a tug on my hand as Eris stopped to look out at the mountaintops, where a single shooting star fell and disappeared behind them.

He looked over at me and a soft barely there smile graced his features. “You make a wish?”

I would only ever wish for one thing, felt like if I asked for more then it would be too greedy of me, especially when the mother and the cauldron couldn't even grant me my single wish.

I nodded in response and the softest smile graced his features and his entire body seemed to relax. “So did I.”

I wanted to ask what he wished for but knew there was the superstition about if you told what your wish was that it wouldn’t come true, so I left the question unasked. He took a step back to my side and motioned to the sidewalk ahead of us.

“Ready whenever you are.” He looked down on me and the shop lights caught his eyes making them flicker like fire.

Fuck I wanted to kiss him here and now, but if I did I put everything on the table. I couldn’t lose this so I opted to push the feeling down and it felt like I was going to suffocate as I pulled him towards the apartment again. The rest of the walk was quiet Eris falling into line beside me. Once we made it to the apartment I led him up the stairs to see no lights on, Lucien must still be out then I reasoned.

I pushed the door open, the wards clicking to life and unlocking at my presence. Inside was decorated in a mix of autumn and night colors, mine and Lucien’s safe haven here. The couch was large enough to fit both me, Lucien and one other person, the wood frame was a dark almost black color and the fabric that lined it a deep reddish orange that had reminded me of eris’s hair when we picked it out. A large blanket made of fur was thrown across the back of it, in case me or Lucien passed out there, on one of the 2 throw pillows it came with. Lucien had picked out a reading chair that was a deep emerald green that he’d tucked into a corner by a bookshelf, I knew he picked the color because it reminded him of Tamlin and the Spring Court but said nothing to him. He had a similar blanket to the one on the couch folded on the ottoman that matched the chair, the novel Lucien had been reading before he left for his mission sat bookmarked on top of the blanket.

Plants and candles littered the space, nicknacks reminiscent of Spring and autumn sat on nearly every shelf. A small coffee table separated the couch from the fireplace, on it my own books sat, one a precursor to the one Lucien had been reading and the other a gift from my father when I was younger that talked about constellations and astronomy. As I led Eris inside I could see his eyes sparkle and watched his shoulders completely deflate as he stepped over the boundary, I closed the door behind him and the wards locked into place again.

Eris looked around a second before he found himself standing in front of the fireplace. He squatted down and sparked the fire to life before he stood back up and spotted a small wooden carved figure of a fox sitting regally, it had scratches and tiny dents in the soft wood but it was after all over 500 years old. Eris picked it up and turned it over, his eyes found mine and he looked like he was going to start crying.

“You still have this?” His voice cracked. Fuck.

I nodded. “Of course I do, it was the first gift you ever gave me.”

He had carved that fox for me by the edge of the pond the next time we had visited, it had become our regular spot to go when our fathers were meeting.

He set it back into its spot and wiped his eyes where tears had begun to bubble. I moved to sit on the couch and he took a few shaky steps forward before he dropped to his knees and buried his face in my lap, tears spilling from his eyes. Fuck this was so similar to the day he had been told he was to be engaged to Mor.

I entwined my fingers in his hair, trying to sooth him softly but my own tears were beginning to line my eyes. We sat and he cried in my lap for an hour before he began falling asleep where he sat on the floor with his head on my knees. I couldn’t begin to comprehend why me still having that fox caused him to break like that, I wanted to ask but knew if I pried it would probably cause more pain. Somewhere the voice in my head answered me with the thought “because it shows you actually care. That you've always been there and always will be.”

I noticed his breathing had slowed, only catching here or there and I moved a stray hair behind his ear and he looked up at me, his sorrow filled eyes finding mine.

“You aren’t going back tonight, are you? It's awfully late and I wouldn’t want you to get sick from winnowing.” My voice was barely audible but he shook his head and sniffled softly.

“Then let's go get you into some comfy clothes, yeah?” He nodded and leaned back onto his knees to let me stand.

As I stood I ran my fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes to lean into my touch. Mother save me, even after crying for so long he still managed to look so pretty. I extended my hand out to him and he placed his in mine gently, as he stood his knees popped and he cringed; he had spared them no mercy with the force he collapsed onto them with earlier.

I led him to Lucien’s room, the two had to be a similar size I gathered based on what it looked like when they stood beside each other earlier. An old wooden dresser was tucked into the corner of the younger male’s room and I led eris to sit on the bed as I scrounged through the drawers till I found a pair of sleep pants. I pulled a loose white sleep shirt from the closet and passed them to Eris.

“Go ahead and change, I’m going to slip into some comfy clothes of my own. My rooms right across the hall, when you are done just head to the living room. I’ll make us some tea and we can relax. Okay?” he just nodded as he looked at the clothes and I slipped out of the room, closing the door and stepping into my own room.

I pulled a wine, almost maroon color set of satin pajama set, a tank top and pair of shorts, from my own dresser; quick to change into them I wrapped a matching sleep robe over my shoulders and slipped back out into the hallway. I could see Eris’s shadow on the wall of the hallway, the events of the day catching up to me as I processed everything now that I finally had a moment to breathe softly. I stepped into the kitchen, making us a pot of chamomile tea, drizzling the slightest bit of honey into our cups.

Eris looked at me with the saddest smile as I handed him the cup and he took a sip of it. I put my own cup on the coffee table Eris following suit as he swallowed; he scooted a few inches down before he laid down on the couch, his head on my lap. My fingers found his hair as I watched the fire flicker in the hearth, he had one hand resting right above my knee which he clung to me with as if I would be ripped from his grasp.

After a few minutes his breathing became shallow and I looked down at his sleeping face. He finally looked relaxed, I reached above him to pull the fur blanket onto his frame, and began humming a soft lullaby my father would sing to me when I was upset.

I must have fallen asleep myself, because next thing I know I was woken up by the wards unlocking. As the door was pushed open Lucien stilled in the doorway, eyes wide like he had walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He settled after a second and shut the door behind him softly, wards clicking locked.

“I thought he was going back tonight?” Lucien raised a brow in question.

“He was originally. I offered to bring him back here to relax before he had to go back…” I trailed off

“But?” Lucien brought our cups to the kitchen, sitting them softly in the sink with a clink.

“When we got back, he spotted the little fox he carved me and broke down crying. I mean he was fully on his knees crying into my lap Luci.” I sighed and tucked a stray hair away from Eris’s face.

Lucien hummed in acknowledgement, quickly washing the cups and putting them away. “You know why?”

“No. He didn't say anything once he stopped crying.” I mumbled softly watching the way Eris’s features softened as I stroked his hair back.

Lucien stalked across the living room barely making a sound, besides a creak of a floor board. Leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the ottoman, he threw the blanket over his legs and sat the book on his lap.

“Its because he has realized that after all this time, you still genuinely care about him. That you have never once had a thing against him, never once thought him the terrible male everyone else does. That you still care, always have and always will.” Lucien sighed before he continued. “After all they said tonight, I think it got to him. When we went to the bathroom, he said something that got to me even. It didn’t make sense to me till now.”

I looked up at Lucien who had his head leaned back and was staring at the ceiling. “What did he say?”

His amber eye found mine, something serious in them. “I barely caught it under his breath, probably shouldn’t have even heard it. But he said ‘she's why i’m doing this, she’s why I’ve got to be better, she’s why.’ He was practically chanting it under his breath. I think Azriel’s words got in his head, I know he struggled with feeling he was enough of a good male to still call you his friend. Our father’s abuse broke how he views himself, so under that mask he wears opinions to get to him when it's. It’s a lot for him, it gets to him.”

I nodded, felt the tears line my eyes again but Lucien caught me off before I could say anything. “So when he saw that one little figure, it might be silly to you to see him cry over it but it was proof that even to one person, one person he cares for more than the Prythian itself, that he is none of those things and that someone actually cares, shattered him. Trust me when I say this hun, but he would raze all the courts to the ground if something happened to you, so yeah your opinion of him matters more than anything to him.”

Tears ran down my face slowly. “But why?”

“Why what?”Lucien half smiled.

“Why do I matter so much” I sniffled

“Honestly, I don't know, just do. If I had to guess it's because you have been there since the beginning, since before his life went to shit.” Lucien hummed. “Now stop crying or you’ll wake him up, wipe your cheeks off.”

I wiped my face and nodded quickly. “Can I ask something?” Lucien mused.

I nodded. “Yeah?”

“You emphasized the fact that he was on his knees. Like you had seen it before, what happened last time that made you realize how important the reason for crying was to him, whatever it was?” He returned his gaze to the ceiling.

“It was the woods after he was informed about his engagement to Mor…” I mumbled and looked down to watch how Eris’s fingers clung to my leg.

“Oh.” Lucien hissed.

“He snuck out a bottle of alcohol and we ran off to our spot in the woods. He broke down in my arms, we broke down and cried together.” I sighed “He begged me to not leave him alone in the world.”

Lucien sat up fairly quickly. “He.. He begged you?” Lucien’s eyes both found purchase on me. “He thought you would leave him and he begged you to stay?”

I nodded. “He begged and apologized and we both cried harder than I thought was possible. He asked if I hated him Lucien.” The younger male sucked in the sharp breath.

“What did you say to him?” The redhead murmured to me like it was almost forbidden to say it out loud.

“I promised him that I never have, never could, and never will.” I brushed Eris’s hair out of his face again and he smiled in his sleep and purred against my thigh.

Lucien’s eyes widened as if he realized something that had eluded him for years. “You made a deal with him that you would never be able to hate him… You wouldn't have made that deal unless you knew it couldn’t be broken no matter what. Your mates aren’t you?”

I nodded and Lucien wiped his face with your hands. “He doesn't know does he?”

I shook my head again. “No he doesn't”

Lucien hissed under his breath. “Oh now you two have most definitely worked yourselves into a mess.”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“He loves you, I know that much. For you to matter that much to him he has too. He chose you for this whole fake dating thing for a reason then” Lucien mumbled.

I stilled and cut him off. “He said he chose me because I was the first female that came to mind that he trusted enough to ask to do this.” I hissed.

“The first female,” Lucien hissed back, “Because he is in love with you.”

We both sighed loudly and Lucien turned to me with a soft look in his eyes. “Just don’t let him burn himself out is all I ask. He’s the only other good member of my family, snuck me out to Spring Court, warned me about what they were going to do to Jes.”

I nodded and he stood. “I'm going to go take a bath, have a good night, I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Jesminda came up, after all these years it was still a sore spot for him. Especially after he had seen Elain hanging on Azriel, I was just surprised he brought it up himself. Showed how much Eris truly meant to him, made sense why he cared so much but his wording confused me.

“What do you mean by ‘Don’t let him burn himself out?’ Lucien?” I furrowed my brows in confusion.

Lucien stilled in the archway of the hall, his back still to me as he looked over his shoulder. “I mean he is willing to play with as much fire as it takes to stay close to you even if he burns out in the process. Don’t let him burn out, keep his spark ignited, fan it into a raging forest fire. We both know the capability he has to become one of the best males there is, we both know the only reason he has to do that now is you. He is reforming Autumn for you it seems like. Keep that spark fanned, strike out whoever wants to snuff it. The only thing keeping him burning is you.” Lucien’s mind was racing as he spoke but mine was equally so.

He turned and looked me dead in the eyes, a fire raged deep within them. “Promise me, make a deal with me here and now.”

“What?” I was taken off guard by his tone of voice.

He strode over to me with his hand extended. “Let's make a deal here and now that you will protect him, that you won't let him burn out or let anything bad ever happen to him again. That you’ll chase his terrible thoughts away, just like you did tonight, whenever they become unbearable for him.”

I looked back down at his hand, then back up into his amber and metal eyes. I placed my hand firmly in his. “It's a deal.”

I didn’t want anything from Lucien in exchange, knew we both wanted the same thing here, for Eris to be happy. I knew what my purpose was the second I felt the sting of a new bargain tattoo on my upper right arm. As I pulled back from Lucien and looked to the spot i had felt the sting, I knew that no matter how long it was going to take even if we got into a terrible argument after this arrangement, that I would wait for Eris and be there to chase his fears away, knew the second my eyes locked on the tattoo that perfectly mirrored the wooden fox Eris carved for me all those years ago. In the same spot on Lucien’s shoulder was a constellation in deep red ink.

Lucien smiled at me and returned to the archway calling over his shoulder before he disappeared with a smirk. “Goodnight Sister.”

It felt like my body absorbed all the heat it could from Eris and pushed it right into my face, my heart racing and an ache settled in my chest that was only soothed by Eris’s fingers clinging slightly tighter to me. I settled taking the second throw pillow and putting it behind my head, the least Lucien could have done was give me his blanket before he left, Fuck.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708

@acourtofbatboydreams

@abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #eris acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra

245 notes · View notes