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chickenlizard13 · 1 year

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All You’ve Done

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 12790

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Like a hint of spice

Description: Buckle up kids. This got waaaaayyy longer than I’d planned, and I’ve taken a lot of liberties with the story. I envision Ominis’s wand working like a topographical map, kind of like Toph in Avatar The Last Airbender. Anyway, mainly follows Sebastian’s quest line.

“You got a staring problem?”

You were violently ripped from your thoughts by a low angry voice. Tearing your eyes from the other side of the room, you look up at the boy glaring at you from the end of the table. Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head in challenge, eyebrows rising. “Excuse you?”

You watch his hackles rise and his scowl deepen, before letting out an irritated huff. “I asked if you have a fucking staring problem.”

You give him a once over, trying to figure out where you’d seen him before. You vaguely remember dueling him in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but were struggling to produce his name. He was in Slytherin, and you were pretty sure he had an interesting reputation, but that was all you knew at the moment.

You’d met so many people in your first few days here, who could really blame you for blanking on a name? Squinting harder, you looked at the smattering of freckles across his face and wild brunette locks, hoping they’d trigger your memory. He bristled at your intense gaze, mistaking your concentration for hostility, and refused to back down.

Bringing your hand up, you repeatedly tapped the center of your forehead with your index finger, trying to summon his name to your mind. S something. Ssss-tanley. Steven. Sylis?

He’d started to fidget at your odd behavior, eyes darting questioningly to Natty as she sat beside you. Natty had seen you do this before, and laughed at Sebastian’s bewildered look, telling him to give you a moment.

“Sebastian!” You snap your fingers and point at him with a triumphant look on your face. “I’m sorry, uh, what did you want again?”

Suddenly remembering why he’d approached you in the first place, his face darkened once more. Leaning down, he gets right in your face, blocking your line of sight from your previous fixation. “You’ve been staring at Ominis for a particularly long time, and I’d like to know why.” You return his scowl and roll your eyes at his aggressive display.

“Don’t see why it’s any of your business, freckles. Can’t someone just enjoy the view in peace?” Your dismissive tone does little to dissuade him. Sebastian narrows his eyes, and doesn’t budge.

“I would think twice about messing with Ominis, if I were you. House Slytherin is not an enemy you want.” Rolling your eyes, you let out an exasperated sigh and stand up, brushing past him. You ignore his irritated calls, striding towards the blonde’s table. Ominis sat hunched over, frustratedly staring at the leaves in his hands. You purposefully make a noisy approach, so as not to spook the blind boy with your presence. Stopping next to his chair, you take a breath before you speak.

“Hello.”

Ominis slowly raises his head and does his best to look in your general direction, the look of frustration staying on his face. “...Hello. Can I help you?”

You smile at the warry tone and attempt to make your voice as sincere as possible. “I noticed you’ve been staring at these leaves for quite awhile. I was wondering if you’d want some help with…whatever, it is you’re doing?”

A look of indignation crosses his features and he sticks his nose up at you. “I don’t need anything, thank you very much. Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean that I’m incapable.”

Merlin’s beard, Slytherin boys were a prickly bunch. Sighing tiredly, you consider just turning around and walking away, but instead cross your arms and lean your hip against the table.

“I didn’t ask if you NEED any help. I asked you if you WANT any help. It’s fine if you don’t, but you’ve been sitting here fondling leaves for the better part of an hour. I assumed the wrinkle in your forehead would become permanent if I didn’t put you out of your misery. I see that I was mistaken” Without waiting for a response you turn to leave, only taking a few steps before he calls out to you.

“Wait.” You stop and turn, raising an eyebrow expectantly even though he can’t see it. He shuffles his feet and looks down at the floor, mumbling begrudgingly. “I have to write 5 inches on the medicinal and physical differences between Mallowsweet and Dittany for Herbology, and I’m having trouble with the physical portion. Someone was supposed to be here half an hour ago to help, but he still hasn’t shown up.”

Gazing over your shoulder, you could see the smoke coming out of Sebastian’s ears as he scowled at you. Natty hid an amused smile behind her hand, eyes darting between the both of you. Taunting him, you give him a wink and a sly smirk, resisting the urge to chuckle as you hear him curse you out from across the room.

Facing Ominis, you sit on the table and put your feet on the chair next to him. “So, Dittany grows on long stalks, ending in bright pink flowers. The leaves are smooth, and more circular, than Mallowsweet.” His attention had been drawn away, as he’d no doubt heard Sebastian’s string of expletives across the room, but swung his head in your direction as you spoke.

Grabbing a Dittany leaf, you gently take his wrist, ignoring the way he stiffens at the contact. You place the leaf in his hand, letting him feel the edges for a moment before moving on.

“Mallowsweet on the other hand, ends in a point and has small ridges along the edge. The leaves progressively become more yellow, the closer they get to the cluster of orange flowers at the top. Unlike Dittany, Mallowsweet grows in short clumps, the stalks close together.” You pick up a Mallowsweet leaf and tap the back of his other hand with your knuckle, signaling that he should turn his palm over for the second leaf. He does so willingly, and takes a second to feel both leaves simultaneously.

This whole time you’d been focused on describing the leaves as accurately as possible, and only now turned your gaze to his face. He seemed to be deep in thought, features unreadable, his eyes pointedly turned toward his hands.

He turned his face towards you and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Sebastian's untimely arrival. “And what is going on over here?”

Apparently he’d had enough of watching from afar and decided to make himself known. You rolled your eyes at him once more and hopped down from the edge of the table. “Oh, there he is, you’re late. Just a little homework help, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You could hear Sebastian grumbling about how he doesn’t wear panties as you walked away. What you didn’t see was Ominis grabbing his wand and pointing it in your direction, trying to discern any identifying features from your retreating figure.

__________________

The next few weeks flew by as you dove head first into your classes, doing your best to catch up to your fellow fifth years, as per Professor Weasley’s expectations.

You were in the middle of Potions class, finishing up your Wiggenweld brew, when Professor Sharp walked up behind you quietly. Corking the bottle, you turn and face him, silently handing him the potion with a pleased smile. He took the vial just as silently and inspected it thoroughly, examining the liquid and smelling the contents. Grunting in approval, he replaced the cork and handed it back to you. “Impressive. Wiggenweld is not an easy potion, and you’ve executed it exceptionally well.”

Your smile grows a bit as you thank him for his kind words. He gestures for you to follow him back to his desk with a slight nod of his head. The two of you make your way over, and you stop at the front, as he circles around to stand behind his chair. “Professor Weasley has asked me to give you extra assignments to help you catch up with the rest of the fifth years. I’d like you to try your hand at the Edurus potion. You can find the ingredients in my office. You may use them for today, but you will be expected to provide your own in the future. We’ll see if your Wiggenweld was actual skill, or just pure luck.”

You smile as you thank him again, making your way to his office. As you walk over, you can see Garreth Weasley lurking conspicuously by the door. There’d been many a conversation in the halls about Garreth’s failed brews, and how he often roped unsuspecting students into his schemes. Uninterested in being involved, you did your best to avoid eye contact, walking quickly to the office door. Before you could escape, he stopped you, a mischievous smile lighting up his face as he spoke your name. “Did I hear correctly that you’ve gotten permission to go into Sharp’s office?”

Groaning internally, you close your eyes before turning to face him. “Yes, Garreth. Why do you want to know?”

His eyes grew bigger as the mischief turned to giddy excitement. “That’s great! How would you like to be part of something truly spectacular? I’m working on a new potion, and there’s just one final ingredient before it’s finished!” You open your mouth to deny his request, but he continues without letting you get a word out. “What is this ingredient you may ask? A Fwooper feather! Sharp has one in his office, and it would be a great help if you could grab it for me while you're there.”

Shaking your head, you let out a large sigh before looking him in the eyes. “Garreth, I’m not stealing from Professor Sharp for you.” Garreth began waving his hands back and forth frantically, a panicked look on his face.

“No, no, no, listen. It’ll be fine! Fwooper feathers aren’t THAT valuable. He won’t even miss it! Please, do this for me? Just this once, I swear!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you regarded the red head. He was pouting, giving you the biggest puppy eyes you’d ever seen. It was tempting to just give in and get him the feather, if only to spare you the crocodile tears. Ultimately, you decided that you’d rather stay on Sharp’s good side, and that Garreth should really focus on actually learning to brew potions instead of his semi dangerous concoctions.

“Look, Garreth. I can appreciate your…creative vision, but I am not willing to compromise my current standing in Professor Sharp’s good graces. You’re going to have to find another way to get that Fwooper feather.” You turn to continue your way into the office and feel a hand grab your sleeve.

“Wait! I promise you won’t get in trouble! I just really need-” You gave him a stern glare and whirled on him.

“Garreth. I will not be pressured into doing something I don’t want to. I’m all for breaking some rules every now and then, but stealing from a professor I respect and want to learn from, is not something I’m willing to do at this juncture. Please, drop it.” Unprepared for your ire, Garreth took a step back in shock, before slinking away in dejection. You felt a little bad, but it was for his own good. It would serve him to be told no every once in a while.

Quickly gathering the ingredients, you start walking back to your potions table, having spent way too much class time arguing with Garreth. You passed behind Ominis sitting at his own station, still trying to perfect his Wiggenweld, when he accidently knocked his wand off the counter. It hit the floor with a small clunk, and Ominis scrunched his eyebrows together, leaning down to retrieve it.

He must have misjudged where the counter started, and was about to put his whole hand into his scalding potion pot. Before you could think, you grabbed his wrist and yanked it away from the cauldron, burning the back of your hand on the lip.

You immediately went to apologize for grabbing him so suddenly, when he ripped his wrist from your grasp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Opening your mouth, you attempt to explain what happened. Ominis heard none of it and continued to yell, drawing the attention of the rest of the class.

“You think it’s funny to just grab someone like that?! You’ve got some fucking nerve-” You caught Sebastian stalking over out of the corner of your eye, a dark look on his face. The entire class was giving this spectacle their undivided attention, heaven forbid you had one uneventful potions class. Wanting nothing more than to finish this potion and leave, you interrupt Ominis as he accuses you of purposefully knocking his wand over.

“Ominis.” Upon hearing your voice, he clamps his mouth shut, a look of surprise and something else crossing his face. Sebastian comes to a halt next to you, teeth bared, but you ignore him and continue talking.

“You were about to put your hand into your boiling cauldron. I didn’t think that you’d particularly want to take a trip to the Hospital Wing today. I apologize for startling you.” Picking up his wand, you place it carefully onto the table, still within arms reach, but far enough that it won’t fall again. Sebastian bashfully scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, as you brushed past him. Ignoring the stares of your classmates, you quietly brewed the Edurus potion, face carefully neutral.

Upon finishing, you brought it over to Professor Sharp. He gave it the same level of scrutiny he’d given your Wiggenweld, grunting in approval when it was up to his standards. You turned to follow the other students out of the room, when you heard Professor Sharp clear his throat. “I appreciate you denying Mr. Weasley’s request earlier, not many are able to resist his particular brand of...persuasion. He would do well to focus on actual potions while he’s still a student.” Letting out an amused huff at what he meant by ‘persuasion’, you bid him goodbye, continuing on with the rest of your classes.

——————————————-

You hated that you had to ask Sebastian for help. The smug satisfaction ever present on his face as you snuck through the Restricted Section, searching for any wisps of ancient magic. He’d been needling you endlessly about what you were after, but you successfully evaded his questioning each time.

Sebastian was too busy trying to annoy an answer out of you to notice Peeves popping out of a bookshelf, threatening to tell the librarian about your late night escapades. Fearing the consequences awaiting you if you were caught, you allowed the familiar pull of ancient magic to guide your wand. A book flew off the shelf, opening on its own, hovering before you. Peeves started floating away, taunting Sebastian with your impending detention, when your wand pulsed and dragged Peeves screaming into the pages. The book snapped shut and shuddered once, before calmly putting itself back on the shelf.

The both of you blinked at the shelf silently, holding your breath, before staring blankly at each other. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask, closing it as you held up a hand, shaking your head. You turn away from him, sensing that you needed to travel deeper into the Restricted Section, knowing he couldn’t come along.

“Well, it looks like you have free reign of the Restricted Section this evening. You can poke around to your heart's content.” He looked at you quizzically as you started heading down the stairs leading deeper below the school.

“You’re going alone? Why can’t I come? What about Peeves?” You stop and give him a gentle smile over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry about Peeves. He’ll find his way out.” Probably.

You turn to face him fully on the stairs, your smile widening. “I figured you’d want a free evening to peruse the books, uninhibited. Don’t worry about me. Thank you for getting me this far. It wasn’t completely terrible.”

He gave you a wide, boyish grin. “I think I miss judged you.” He gave you a parting wave, before sneaking off to bury himself in as many illicit tomes as possible. Smiling to yourself, you continue your way downwards, excited to discover what secrets lay so far beneath Hogwarts.

—————————————

After your jaunt through the library, you discovered that you rather enjoyed Sebastian’s company. Contrary to your first impression, he actually had a working brain between those ears, and he knew how to use it. Your friendship slowly grew over the passing weeks, until finally, he sent you an owl requesting your presence in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

Meeting him late that night, he shared with you his dearly kept secret, known only to him, Ominis, and now you. You guessed he still felt a little guilty about his behavior during your early interactions, thus offering the Undercroft in apology. The only stipulation being no one, especially Ominis, would know.

Swearing to guard his secret, you left the Undercroft, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before your morning classes.

As fate would have it, you’re immediately cornered by the last person you wanted to see.

“Hello Sebastian.” Wide eyed, you stare at Ominis, unblinking. Perhaps if you didn’t breathe, he wouldn’t notice you. Instead assuming he’d just missed Sebastian entering the Undercroft.

It would seem that luck had abandoned you, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response. “Hold on. You aren’t Sebastian at all, are you? Did you just come from the Undercroft?!”

Biting your lip, you consider your options. You could always lie, and say you stumbled upon the room by accident. You could come clean, and admit Sebastian’s guilt. You very briefly even considered just making a break for it, praying Ominis wouldn’t catch you. You had no good options, least of all one that would end with the three of you on good terms.

Ominis’s brow twitched impatiently, wand pointed directly at your chest. You supposed that the blonde boy already thought pretty poorly of you, seeing how your previous interaction ended. Why not give him one more reason?

“I…did.” You answered cautiously, unsure where you were going, letting your lips take you.

Ominis’s scowl deepened, a haughty sneer placing itself on his lips. “Sebastian showed you didn’t he? That fool. I can’t believe he would-”

“Relax, Ominis. Sebastian didn’t give up your secret, um…willingly.” What were you saying? What did that even mean? Before you could say anything else, Ominis stopped talking and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“What do you mean by that.” There was no question in his voice, only a frosty demand. You resisted the shiver tickling at your spine, swallowing the need to take a few steps back.

“I saw Sebastian duck in here earlier and followed him. He- uh, he’s not as sneaky as he thinks.” You had absolutely no control over the words coming out of your mouth. Cringing internally at your horrid acting, you wondered how Ominis hadn’t seen right through you.

“Don’t worry. I promised to keep the Undercroft a secret…for a…a price?” WHAT. Why would you say that? Why would you say that? You watched his chest heave in anger, latching onto the implication of your threat. It seemed he’d rather believe you the villain, than consider his friend's betrayal.

“What. Price.” There was something in his voice that sent a chill through your bones. Something hissed behind his lips, sinister and cold, almost too faint for you to hear. You felt like a rabbit cornered by a cobra, nowhere to go but through him.

Swallowing, you steeled yourself, resolving to end this interaction quickly so you could wallow in self pity from the comfort of your bed. “Nothing much, just a favor. No need to concern yourself over it.” You stupidly give him your back as you slide past, wanting to bolt from this absolute disaster, but forcing your legs to maintain a casual pace.

“If you tell anyone about this place, I will make sure the rest of your time at this school is a living hell. My father is good friends with Professor Black, and I will not hesitate to exploit that connection if I need to. Not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to save you.”

Humming lowly, you continued down the hall without looking back. You could faintly hear Ominis snarl in rage, as he opened the door roughly to question Sebastian. The sound was drowned out by the whirling thoughts in your head. What had you done? You couldn’t have created a bigger mess if you’d tried. There was no way you could come back from this, no way Ominis would want to be anywhere near you. You didn’t even know if you’d be allowed around Sebastian anymore, knowledge of the Undercroft not worth the loss of a new friend.

Resigning yourself to lie in the bed you’d made, your legs trudged the rest of the way to your dorm. Wondering what the morning would have in store.

——————————————-

Whatever had been said that night between the two, Sebastian never brought it up.

Instead, he invited you to Feldcroft to meet his sister, and uncle. Which was a less than pleasant experience, to put it lightly. You would see Ominis around the halls and in classes, but you wouldn’t get much more than a withering glare in your general direction. Sebastian reassured you that he just needed a little time to cool down, but his seemingly permanent scowl lines told a different story.

You took some comfort in knowing that Sebastian and Ominis’s friendship improved greatly, often seeing them walking together between classes. It brought a smile to your face every time Sebastian would wave to you enthusiastically when Ominis wasn’t looking, quickly putting his arm down when the blonde would face his direction. Things continued on like this for a while, settling into this weird passive aggressive routine you weren’t sure how to break.

————————————————-

Ominis was pissed. Ever since the Undercroft, he’d made sure you knew how displeased he was in your presence. He’d spent the rest of that night cursing himself for being so foolish, having believed you to be kind, just as the rest of the student body. After his outburst in potions class, he’d been contemplating ways to apologize, wanting to give you a better impression of him. Not anymore. After that night, he couldn’t even stand to hear your voice.

Your loud laugh would echo through the halls, instantly souring his mood. He questioned Sebastian constantly about the favor he owed you, but was brushed off every time. The brunette remaining tight lipped, telling him not to worry about it. In truth, he really did owe you, for taking the full brunt of Ominis’s wrath. Sebastian planned to come clean once Ominis had settled, but it seemed to be taking longer than expected.

Ominis couldn’t let it go. He began lurking around corners, listening to the whispers of other students. He listened intently for any other favors you were owed, paying particularly close attention to those you’d been seen with frequently. Nothing. All people ever did was sing your praises.

He sat alone on the second floor of the library, hiding between the tall stacks. For once, trying to avoid all human contact, his nerves frayed and mind tired.

Low murmurs were filtering in from the next aisle over. Ominis sat, uninterested, until an unmistakable laugh caught his attention. His ears perked up, instantly recognizing your carefree giggles, followed by Natty’s light scolding to be quiet. Ominis slowly stood from his seat, creeping to stand just around the corner, out of sight but in better ear shot.

Once the giggling from the both of you faded, you stood in comfortable silence, returning your borrowed books to their respective shelves. Standing there, it didn’t seem to Ominis that you were going to say anything more, taking a step away to find another hiding spot. Just as he lifted his foot, Natty’s voice quietly broke your companionable silence.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, my friend.” Her voice was quiet, as to keep her question private, but not quiet enough to escape Ominis’s sharp hearing. You hum in acknowledgement, awaiting Natty’s inquiry.

“What on Earth did you do to piss off Ominis Gaunt so badly?” Natty never minced her words, always opting to get straight to the point, something you truly appreciated about her.

Ominis could hear your breathing stop, before heaving a big sigh and plopping down in a chair. His wand pulsed, and he could tell that you’d put your head in your hands, face directed to the floor.

“You noticed that, huh?”

Natty laughed jovially, ignoring your obvious distress. “Who hasn’t? He certainly isn’t trying to be subtle.”

He could hear you sit back, your voice muffled by the hands covering your face. “…it’s embarrassing.”

Natty nudged you to continue. Sighing, you dropped your arms, hands slapping your thighs loudly. “Sebastian…told me something he shouldn’t have, and the only stipulation was that Ominis wouldn’t find out. Unfortunately, as if by magic, he caught me almost immediately. Which, believe me, was already bad enough, but then I had to make it worse by lying to him.”

Natty hummed, waiting for you to continue. “He was so angry, and I’d just promised Sebastian I’d keep his secret, you know, a secret. We’d just started really being friends and I didn’t want to jeopardize that, so I panicked and just said the first thing that came to mind.”

Natty’s brow lifted. “Which was…?” Your head fell back into your hands, your words becoming slightly muffled.

“I told him that I’d keep their secret for a price. A price, Natty! Like I was some kind of Ashwinder demanding ransom. What the fuck was I thinking?” You groaned, and Natty remained silent as you rambled, the words spilling out of your mouth.

“You don’t understand. He was so scary. I was nearly pissing myself the whole time. It took everything in me to not sprint away. Ranrok’s loyalists have nothing on Ominis when he’s well and truly put out.” You paused briefly to take a breath before charging forward. “I just- I just kept talking. I couldn’t stop. And my acting was so bad. I really don’t understand how he even believed me.”

Natty attempted to hide her smile with her hand. Ominis could vaguely hear you smack her lightly, crying that it wasn’t funny, but his mind was elsewhere.

He suddenly felt very guilty about how he’d treated you that night, now recognizing your obvious discomfort and nervousness. Why had Sebastian let you take the blame for him? Ominis thought back to his boarish behavior the last few weeks, angry at his blatant hostility and lack of attention. If he’d taken a moment to actually consider the situation, he might not have wasted so much energy hating you. He hoped you’d be willing to forgive him, but didn’t have very high hopes.

————————————————-

It took a couple days before Ominis gathered enough courage to approach you, but broke down after hearing you laugh with Sebastian before Potions. You’d noticed his sudden change in behavior, because of course you did. He seemed more withdrawn than normal, barely ever facing your direction. His newfound stoicism had begun to worry you, and asking Sebastian had been no help. He’d simply shrugged and grumbled something about Ominis being too clever for his own good.

Acquiring your extra assignments from Professor Sharp, you headed to the Room of Requirement with your newly rescued beasts, excited to show them their vivarium.

Clearing the classroom threshold, you spotted Ominis, arms crossed, leaning against the wall conspicuously. He’d been avoiding you the last few days, so it was odd to see him openly waiting around. You paused your steps and regarded him. He looked a little worse for wear, but otherwise seemed fine, physically at least. Approaching him cautiously, you stop a healthy distance away. “Hello, Ominis. Did- Did you need something?”

His fingers tighten on his sleeve, brows scrunching. You thought that you’d maybe been mistaken and you were only aggravating him further.

He didn’t turn his head to face you, but his eyes looked in your direction, trying harder than usual to pinpoint your location. “You can drop the act now.”

You fidget with your fingers and bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I, um, I don’t-“

“Don’t even bother. Sebastian already told me about your little charade. You might as well stop while I still have a modicum of patience.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping, letting the nervous tension leave your body. “You know, it’s just like him to tell on me and ruin all my hard work.” You glance at Ominis briefly, noticing his expression had morphed into something like amusement, but it just as likely could have been a trick of the light. “So you know, but you still seem upset?”

Huffing at you, he rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, keeping his arms crossed as he faced you fully. “Of course I’m still upset. I don’t enjoy being lied to, no matter how noble the reason. I’m perfectly capable of making my own judgments, thank you very much.” You looked at the ground and flattened your lips into a thin line, nodding in agreement before remembering that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah ok, I deserve that. I’m sorry.” You watched him shake his head and turn his head, looking pointedly down the hall.

“Yes, well, please refrain in the future. It’s going to be very difficult spending time together if I can’t trust your word.” Slight color rose to his cheeks as he realized the possible implication of his words. “Since you’re friends with Sebastian and all. I imagine you’ll start frequenting the Undercroft more often now that your farce has been discovered.”

You chuckled and smiled at him. “Of course. I’ll try not to make a habit of it.” He nodded once, and turned to swiftly walk down the hall.

You’d thought that was the end of it, but are surprised when Ominis stops abruptly, calling to you over his shoulder. “I apologize for my behavior the other night, and everyday since then. It was rather rude and unnecessary.” Without waiting for a response, he walks off down the hall. You smile after him and continue on with the rest of your day, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

————————————————

You did, in fact, visit the Undercroft more frequently after that. Mostly with Sebastian, but Ominis was slowly making a habit of accompanying the brunette when the two of you made plans. He’d also started showing up to your study table without so much as a greeting, simply sitting down and pulling out his assignments for the day. Today was one of those days. You glanced up from your Herbology homework to see Ominis making a beeline for your table. Smiling to yourself, you watch him approach, waiting for him to be fully seated before greeting him.

“Ominis.” You only get a hum of acknowledgement in return, before you both turn your attention to your respective assignments. An hour passes in comfortable silence, only interrupted by the clock tower signaling the start of a new hour. You’d planned to practice your spell work in the Undercroft after the library, and started packing your things to head out. Glancing at Ominis, you hesitate for only a moment before circling around to his side of the table, leaning down next to him.

“Ominis.” His head turns slightly in your direction, signaling that you had his attention without looking away from his enchanted quill. “I’m heading to the Undercroft for a bit. Care to join me?” You lean away and watch him consider your offer, before quietly disenchanting his quill and following you out of the library.

The walk to the Undercroft was done in comfortable silence, occasionally bumping shoulders on the way. He led the way down to his secret room, making sure no one had seen your entrance before closing the door securely. He headed for the center of the room, casually discarding his robe on a lounge chair on the way. You’d just crossed the threshold when he whipped around without warning. “Levioso.”

Instinctively, you shout Protego, his spell bouncing off the shield harmlessly. You look at him bewildered, about to ask what had gotten into him, when he whipped two more spells at you in quick succession. Dodging one and shielding against the other, you cast Stupify, only for him to roll out of the way effortlessly. “You know, you’ll never stand a chance against dark wizards if all you do is run away.”

“Ominis, what is happening right now? Did I do something to upset you?” He huffed and rolled his eyes, still brandishing his wand in your direction.

“Did you not come here to practice your spells?” He shot off another basic cast without warning. You leapt out of the way just in time, the spell hitting the wall behind you.

“I mean, I did, I jus- oh shit! uh, I wasn’t expecting to- fuck! Immediately find myself in a duel.” You continue to tuck and roll, as Ominis quickly fires a few more spells your way. A cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, giving you the sense that he was only playing with you at the moment.

“You think Sebastian became so good at dueling by accident? He’s only considered the best because I don’t care to waste my time playing in Lucan’s little club. I’d wipe the floor with my eyes closed.” You barked out a surprised laugh, almost costing you your robes as a ball of fire came hurtling towards you. Ominis’s smirk grew into a wicked smile. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on his lips as you circled around each other slowly.

“You should add ‘comedian’ to your long list of talents.”

“Is it comedy, or just honesty?”

“Mmm, humble too.” This time you take the attack, casting Depulso, attempting to knock him prone. He threw up his shield and cast Stupify in retaliation, hitting you in the chest.

You stumble a bit, and scramble to regain your balance. Before you could react, Ominis cast Expelliarmus, ripping your wand from your hand. He followed with Accio, yanking you across the room towards him before your wand finished falling. Spinning, you land directly in front of him, feet wobbling as you hit the ground.

An arm snakes around your waist and tugs you forward, steadying you. You feel the point of a wand lightly touch your throat, and a low amused rumble come from the chest pressing against you. Looking up at Ominis’s face, you notice he’d closed his eyes at some point during your sparring, a pleased smile resting comfortably on his lips. Your mouth hangs open as you gape up at him, mind reeling at how good he looks like this. Relaxed and happy, if not a little cocky. You search for something to say, anything, when he parts his lips.

“I win.” His voice is barely above a whisper, his smile growing at your indignant huff.

“You cheated. That wasn’t a fair fight.” His arm tightens ever so slightly around you as another chuckle escapes him.

“They never are. I even gave you a handicap, and you still lost.” He opened his eyes as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, eyes crinkling around the edges as you lightly smacked his arm.

“It doesn’t count as a handicap if you’re not actually restricting yourself, you ass.” He barked out a laugh and lowered his wand, but didn’t remove his arm from you.

“You’re free to try again, if you’d like. Though I doubt being prepared this time will change the outcome.” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

His haughty smirk morphed into an actual grin as he finally released his hold on you. “I’m looking forward to it.”

——————————————

You, in fact, did not kick his ass. The tension between you continued to grow after every round, the air growing heavy with something unnamed, calling it quits after the fourth duel.

Following that, you would sneak into the Undercroft together while Sebastian was in class, enjoying the easy banter that came without the brunette dominating the conversation. Not that it had been very difficult to hide your increasingly frequent rendezvous. Sebastian had become more and more preoccupied with his search for a cure recently, talking about his latest discoveries every time you were all together. Both you and Ominis grew more concerned the deeper Sebastian delved into the Dark Arts, often discussing how to steer him away from the path he traveled on. You’d decided to trust him to know when to stop, but you weren’t convinced when he started pestering Ominis about the location of Salazar Slytherin’s secret Scriptorium. Ominis continuously refused to tell him any information, and was just getting more irritated by the day.

Ominis was ranting to you one day after combat training, yelling about how Sebastian had kept him up half the night prior with his whining. You’d been contemplating how to end Sebastian’s obsession without potentially pushing him away, when a truly wild thought occurred to you. You tried to interrupt Ominis’s pacing and irritated grumbles.

“Ominis.” He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, eyebrows scrunching further the more he worked himself up.

“Ominis.” You called his name a bit louder. Still no response. You could sense a whole new wave of annoyance about to explode out of his mouth, and attempted to interrupt it before he really got going.

“Ominis!”

“What?!” He whipped around to face you, a slightly unhinged look in his silver eyes.

“Stop your incessant pacing for a moment and come over here.” He narrowed his eyes and grumbled, but did as he was asked, stopping a short distance away.

“What.” He was decidedly calmer than he had been, so you excused his shortness. You took a deep breath, preparing to share your possible solution, knowing he’d object immediately, but hoping to persuade him.

“I had a thought, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He huffed and crossed his arms, putting all his weight on his left leg while raising one eyebrow.

“Well? Spit it out.” You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath, knowing he was acting this way out of worry.

“Alright, first of all, you can lose the attitude. We’re on the same team here. No reason for you to get pissy with me.” He clicked his tongue and looked away, but didn’t make any more comments as he waited for you to speak. Rolling your eyes again, you try to choose your next words carefully. “What if, and hear me out here, we take him to the Scriptorium.”

Ominis went to object, but you covered his mouth with your hand before he could get any words out. You tried to ignore the feel of his lips on your fingers and kept talking. “I wasn’t finished. We take him to the Scriptorium, and if we find something, we hide it before he can get his hands on it. He’ll see it’s a dead end, and look elsewhere.”

You look up into Ominis’s hard eyes and slowly remove your hand from his mouth. His arms remain crossed as he scowls, remaining quiet for only a moment longer.

“Congratulations. That was officially the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Absolutely not. How could you think going INTO the Scriptorium is a viable solution? My Aunt Noctua disappeared after entering that place, and we all assume she died terribly in her search.” You could see the sadness creep into his expression at the mention of his beloved aunt.

As you’d grown closer the last few weeks, he’d started opening up to you about his family history, and how he adored his aunt for sharing his personal beliefs. Your brow furrowed in sympathy, completely understanding his aversion to anything to do with the Dark Arts. You place your hand gently on his elbow before speaking again.

“I know, but letting him think his search is futile would be better than the alternative. I have a bad feeling it’ll only escalate if we don’t intervene.” His face is turned to the floor, and his eyes still hold the same hardness from before, but he is clearly considering your words carefully. You squeeze his elbow gently, pushing on. “It would also be nice if you could get some closure about your aunt. Maybe there’s something she left behind?” You watched his shoulders sag as he exhaled loudly. Defeated. “We stop as soon as things get too dangerous. Ok? I promise.”

He thinks for a moment more, but you could tell that you’d won. He heaves a large sigh before looking up at you, eyes searching your face as if he could actually see your expression. “Ok.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and give his still folded arm a tight squeeze. “-but, we leave as soon as I say, alright? Not a second later.” You nod in agreement and say yes, hoping the two of you would be able to pull this heist off under Sebastian’s nose.

—————————————————

The following night, you found yourself standing in a dark hallway deep in the Hogwarts dungeon. No other students ventured this far, and your only source of light were the sparsely scattered torches. Which only served to cast an eerie glow over the bricks.

“The entrance is here, but there’s some kind of trick to getting it to open. Something about three’s.”

You look around and notice two large, unlit braziers flanking the arch way towards the Slytherin Common Room. Three pairs of bejeweled snake eyes seemingly following your every movement. Looking around, you spot a similar brazier standing alone down the opposite hall. Having become familiar with the little puzzles peppered around the castle, designed to bolster your field guide, you theorized those braziers probably needed to be lit.

Taking out your wand, you cast Confringo on the lone brazier, quickly casting it on the other two after. For a moment, nothing happens, and you second guess yourself. Just as you went to ask the boys for other ideas, faint hissing traveled past your ears, and only grew louder as a door revealed itself on the wall.

Sebastian’s face holds a poorly concealed grin, giddy at the new discovery. Ominis looks like he wants to call the whole thing off here, but instead approaches the door. “Alright, we found the entrance. Now, how to open the door.” He puts his hand on it, feeling for some sort of doorknob or locking mechanism, coming up empty handed. Sebastian squeezes in next to him to get a better look and the ornate designs.

“Say something in Parseltongue.” You cock your head at Sebastian quizzically.

“What’s Parseltongue?” Ominis sighs heavily, but doesn’t look at you.

“A Parseltongue is someone who can speak to snakes. It’s a rare ability, and almost all known Parseltongues are directly descended from Salazar Slytherin.”

Sebastian shuffles his feet excitedly and stops trying to hide his boyish grin. “And we just so happen to have one standing right here!”

Ominis looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. You knew he was feeling uneasy. Walking up beside him, you grab his hand, causing him to look in your direction uncertainly. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, ignoring Sebastian’s gaze darting between you two. Ominis squeezes back, and doesn’t release you as he starts speaking. The unknown words caress your skin as they slither through the air.

The door responds, granting access to the pitch black rooms beyond. You give Ominis one last squeeze before letting go and heading into the dark, Sebastian following close behind. Ominis hesitated, but decided that whatever was beyond the door would be best faced by the three of you. As soon as everyone crossed the threshold, the entrance closed and locked, forcing you to continue forward through the maze.

“So, what did you say to Ominis?” Sebastian came up next to you, speaking in a low tone just out of their companions earshot.

“What makes you think I said anything to him?” You kept your gaze focused on the stones in front of you, worried Sebastian would glean something from your expression. Sebastian huffed in amusement while moving some cobwebs out of his way.

“Don’t even try. I’ve been hounding him for information for weeks. I tell you about the Scriptorium, and suddenly he’s on board? Clearly something happened with you two.” You blush a bit at the underlying implication in his words, thankful for the low light in this maze.

“You just don’t have the same way with words, Sebastian. I simply put the situation into perspective for him.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you push forward, scanning each surface for a hint of what was to come. Sebastian muttered a doubtful ‘Right.’ under his breath, but dropped it for the moment.

You found several unlit torches on the walls, getting to work lighting as many as possible. There were unique puzzles acting as locks needed to move forward. You found scattered pages along the way, each revealing itself to be written by Noctua Gaunt. Handing each one to Ominis, he stores them safely in his robes to read later.

Solving the last puzzle, the three of you cross into the next room. You had a feeling this was the final hurdle before discovering the Scriptorium, but stop short after entering the room. A pile of bones lie on the ground near the opposite door, next to the word ‘Crucio’ scratched into the floor.

Mind reeling, you pivot, attempting to walk back to Ominis, only to find him directly behind you.

He’d stopped so close that your forehead nearly bounced off his chest. His face unreadable as he stares in the direction of the body, the hand holding his wand shaking ever so slightly. You take his other hand in yours, silently confirming his terrible suspicion. He lets out a shaky breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, body tense, only worsening when Sebastian read the word aloud. “Crucio?”

Ominis sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on your hand tightening painfully.

Keeping his grasp on you, he whirled back the way you came, dragging you along with him. “We’re leaving.”

Just before you’d reached the doorway, it vanished, leaving you nowhere to go but forward. You yanked on Ominis’s hand, preventing him from hitting his head on the solid wall before you. His breaths became erratic, his hand shaking violently in yours.

“Ominis it’s- the door’s gone. We have to- we have to keep going.” You tried your best to remain calm and keep your voice from trembling. Ominis started shaking his head, tears beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes.

“No. No, no, no this can’t- we can’t- we shouldn’t- we shouldn’t have come. I knew we shouldn’t have done this. You- You promised we’d leave when I said. You-” Tears started to gather in your eyes from watching Ominis’s worst fear come true. You hated yourself for ever suggesting this in the first place, wishing you could take it all back. You hold his hand in both of yours, staring helplessly, trying to figure out how to calm his panic. Sebastian spoke from the other side of the room.

“We’re not trapped, Ominis. We just need to cast Crucio and we’re in. Since you’re the only one who’s cast it before, you should-”

“NO, Sebastian. I’ll never go near that spell again. I can’t.” His silver eyes were wild as they shot in Sebastian’s direction, a shuddering breath escaping his lips.”You need- You need to want to cause pain when you cast it. I have no such desire. I- I can’t.” You squeezed his hand as hard as you could, trying desperately to squeeze the guilt out of him. Tears were openly running down his cheeks, his expression one of pure torture, as if he was reliving the day he cast the curse all over again.

“It wasn’t your fault, Ominis. Your family-”

“That doesn’t excuse anything. At the end of the day, I still cast it, and I will live the rest of my days haunted by the memory.” You looked to Sebastian for help, but only received a gesture to come over to him. Annoyed that he wasn’t trying to help his distraught friend, you looked back at Ominis.

“Ok. It’s ok. You won’t have to cast it. We’ll figure out another way out of here. Stay right here.” You gave his hand one final squeeze before making your way to Sebastian. “What do we do?” He regarded you for a moment before flicking his eyes back towards Ominis.

“Well, I also technically know the Cruciatus Curse, but I haven’t actually cast it before, so I can’t entirely guarantee anyone’s safety. I can either cast it on you, or teach you and have it cast on me.”

You already knew the answer. There wasn't a bone in your body that would allow you to cast such a horrid curse on your friends, growing nauseous at the thought. You looked at Ominis, once again facing the wall you’d come through, and steeled yourself.

“Cast it on me.” Sebastian nodded and took a step back, waiting for you to give the signal.

“I won’t forget this.”

You took a steadying breath and nodded. Faster than you had anticipated, a bolt of red lightning was streaking from Sebastian’s wand. “Crucio!”

Your knees hit the ground as you were struck. You’d tried to hold in your screams, for Ominis, but the pain was too great. Your wails echoed loudly in the tight space.

Through your tears, you could vaguely make out Ominis crouched over, covering his ears. A small part of you thought that you deserved this for opening his old wounds, but that thought was quickly replaced with another wave of blinding agony.

As the spell began to fade, you could hear the door into the Scriptorium melt against the floor, the path open. Your body screamed in protest, but you stood up as quickly as possible and focused on the task at hand.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian wore a look of concern, and it warmed your heart that he hadn’t immediately run off into the other room. You nodded and walked inside, still clutching your ribs.

“Fine. Let’s look around inside. Sebastian, start in this room, we’ll search upstairs.” Without waiting to see if Ominis would follow, you dragged yourself by the handrail to the study on the second floor.

Casting Revelio, you spot a book lying on the desk emitting a dark and twisted aura. You pick it up and examine the cover, identifying it as Salazar Slytherin’s spell book. If Sebastian wanted anything in this room, it would be this book. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs, pulling you out of your thoughts, whirling around, you recognize Ominis’s blonde hair ascending the staircase.

As he reached the last step, you whispered his name, beckoning him closer. You started hurriedly filling him in when he got close enough. “Ominis, this is Salazar Slytherin’s spell book. We can’t let Sebastian find it. Help me look for a place to-”

“Does it still hurt?” You sputtered in surprise.

“Does what still hurt?”

You could see deep set worry in Ominis’s brows, his lips turned down in a sorrowful frown. “The curse. Does it still hurt?”

You blinked slowly, not quite understanding his train of thought. “Um, well yes, but that’s not important right now-”

“Yes it is. Of course it is. How could that not be the most important thing right now?” His hand took your unoccupied one gently. His other came up to lightly stroke the side of your head, tucking his thumb gently behind your ear, barely touching you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to experience that torture.” You could feel his breath on your face from how close he’d gotten and how breathy his voice had become. “So sorry.”

His face shone with regret, wishing he’d been able to spare you this pain. You squeezed his fingers, about to reassure him that you were alright, when you heard Sebastian call up to you.

“I haven’t found anything useful down here! What about up there?” You were ripped from the intimate moment by the realization that you still had a job to do. You cursed under your breath and looked around, seeing a book of similar size on a top shelf behind Ominis. Casting Accio, you pull it towards you, placing it in the spot the spell book previously occupied. Thankfully, it filled the outline in the dust well enough to avoid suspicion. There was no time to stash the book in your hands, hearing Sebastian climbing the stairs, calling for you both. You look at Ominis wildly and shove the book into his chest.

“Tuck the book into my waistband.” You let go of the book, forcing him to catch it before it fell to the ground. You quickly grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him down toward you. Pausing only briefly to apologize.

“Please forgive me.”

“What-” You didn’t give him time to ask what you meant, hoping that he’d figure it out. You pulled him the rest of the way down and crashed your lips together clumsily. He stood there frozen until he heard Sebastain call for you again, almost to the top of the stairs. Ominis wound his arms around your waist, underneath your cloak, tucking the spell book into your waistband like you’d asked. Making sure it would be secure until you could move it to a safer location.

You could hear Sebastian stop short at the top of the stairs and just stare. Both you and Ominis pretending you hadn’t heard him, continuing to kiss. You started losing yourself in the blonde’s mouth, realizing how much you liked kissing him. His hands clutched your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible, seemingly becoming as lost as you. One hand came up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking just under your eye. Your fingers found their way into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and tugging slightly on the short strands. Ominis groaned into your mouth and deepened the kiss, licking at your bottom lip needily.

“OK, that’s enough. What exactly is going on here?” You tear your mouths away from each other in genuine surprise, having both forgotten Sebastian had been standing there. He raised an eyebrow, regarding the both of you as you stayed intertwined.

“Uh, well, the um, the pain from the, the curse hadn’t fully subsided yet, and I needed a…distraction.” You hoped your half baked lie would be enough to fool the brunette, but you weren’t very confident.

Sebastian's eyes flickered back and forth between you two, definitely suspecting something was going on, also noting that you had yet to release each other. Ominis’s body curled protectively around you, shoulders hunched as if to shield you from Sebastian’s gaze. He closed his eyes and shook his head, deciding that he wasn’t willing to deal with this right now.

“Right, well were you able to find anything of importance, or have you just been snogging this whole time?” You and Ominis finally realize you were still cradling each other, and jump apart. You looked down at the floor blushing, gesturing to the book on the desk. Ominis was looking anywhere but you, trying to hide his blush behind his hand. Sebastian eyed the both of you as he walked over to the book. You didn’t know what book you’d summoned from the shelf, but you hoped that it was something less dangerous than the spell book. Sebastian flipped through the pages, seemingly satisfied.

“A book of rare potions. This could definitely prove useful.” With that he snapped the book shut and turned towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve all had enough excitement for one day.” He started walking without waiting for either you or Ominis. Exiting, the back of your hand brushed Ominis’s, silently promising him that you’d take care of the book. He nodded slightly and you bid the boys goodnight, quickly heading for the Room of Requirement, thinking of places to stash the tome.

—————————————————-

You didn’t see much of the boys for a while afterwards. Trials set by the Keepers and your academic responsibility pulling you in too many different directions to have much free time to spend with your friends. Ominis wore a constant face of worry when you were around, repeatedly asking if you were alright. You did your best to reassure him that you were just busy, before apologizing and hurrying to your next task.

Ominis hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed your company until he didn’t have it anymore. He craved it, and was struck with how much he missed you. He didn’t want to be selfish and ask you to carve out time to spend with him in your outrageous schedule, so he settled for keeping a close eye on you whenever you were near.

Thoughts of the Scriptorium floated through his mind constantly. Wanting to know why you’d thought to kiss him, and if you’d let him do it again. Sebastian had stuck his nose in the potions book you’d found, and had yet to come up for air. He wished there was a way to take some of the burden off his friends shoulders, but came up short every time.

After completing all of the Trials, you now had a fairly good grasp on the ancient power you wielded. You’d listened to all the warnings from the Keepers on the responsibility of this power, and you swore to use it wisely. However, there was one thing you needed to accomplish, preferably without the Keepers ever finding out. Surely removing a curse was more acceptable than removing emotion, but you thought it best to keep it secret.

That’s how you found yourself in Feldcroft, standing outside Sebastian’s uncle’s house. You knocked on the door lightly, praying that Anne was home alone. She opened the door and greeted you cheerily, inviting you in. You glanced around and didn’t see anyone else, which was exactly what you needed.

“Hello!! It’s been too long, thank you for the visit.” You smiled warmly and sat down at the table.

“It’s great to see you, Anne. How’ve you been? Have you seen Ominis or Sebastian recently?” She joined you sitting at the table, wincing a bit in discomfort before settling down.

“I’ve been well. As well as I can be anyway. Fortunately both Ominis and Sebastian have paid me a few visits since we last spoke. I believe they’re actually on their way over shortly.” You nod quickly, realizing that you didn’t have much time.

“Alright, we’ve gotta do this quickly. Anne, I can help you, but you can’t tell a single soul what happens here. I need you to trust me and not ask questions, ok? Explaining would take much too long and put you in too much danger. Please, please just trust me.” You looked her in the eyes, willing her to say yes, so you could accomplish your goal before the boys arrived. She bit her lip and studied the table, nodding hesitantly, and then more resolutely.

“Do it. Uh, whatever ‘it’ is.” You breathed out a sigh of relief and took out your wand, placing it over her heart.

“Take a deep breath.” She did as she was told, and you began to pull the curse out of her while she exhaled. She had a slight look of discomfort but remained still until you were done. She slumped back into her chair as you placed the curse in a jar, to dispose of when you returned to the castle. You could see the color already returning to her face as you studied her, making sure you hadn’t messed up in any way.

She had her head down quietly, and you were about to ask if she was alright, when you saw teardrops start falling into her lap. Panicking, you reach for her, afraid something was wrong. Suddenly her head shot up and she beamed at you, smiling so bright you thought you might end up blind.

“The pain, it’s- it’s just…gone! Thank you. Merlin’s beard, thank you. I can’t ever repay you for what you’ve done.” You shushed her with a hug, glad to see the girl Sebastian spoke about come back to the surface.

“You don’t have to thank me. Just promise me, if anyone asks, tell them it was Sebastian. One of his potions, or something. Please, keep this between us.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes with her hand. You wanted to say more, but heard the tell tale signs of the boys arguing as they approached the house. You got up quickly and cast Disillusionment on yourself before whispering to her. “I was never here.”

She nodded again as the door opened, both boys walking in. You waited until they went to greet her before slipping out the front door, creeping away. You could hear Sebastian’s cries of joy as he held his sister close, asking her a thousand questions.

What you didn’t notice, however, was Ominis watching you slink away down the path. Disillusionment never worked on him, his wand detecting a person’s mass. He’d accidentally exposed many hidden persons, often getting them into trouble.

He listened to Anne and Sebastian talk, wondering why you hadn’t stayed, but as Sebastian grilled Anne, he could hear the slight hesitance in her voice. He turned in their direction, watching Anne wring her hands under the table, something she did when she was lying.

She glanced over at him, noting his silence, in stark contrast with Sebastian’s excited chatter. Noticing how closely he studied her, she looked away quickly, laughing nervously at Sebastian, who was too wrapped up in his own excitement to notice.

Suddenly, it dawned on him what you’d done. He knew the rules you’d broken, the danger you’d put yourself in, and he wanted to weep. His emotions were everywhere, a part of him wanting to stay and celebrate, but a larger portion desperate to fly back to the castle in search of you. He struggled to get his breathing under control.

Anne could see the change in him, and shook her head, eyes wide, begging him not to say anything. Ominis took a few deep breaths, striding over to her quickly. He pushed Sebastian out of the way and enveloped Anne in his arms, squeezing her tight.

Sebastian wormed his way in between the two, joining the relieved embrace. The three of them sat quietly, and there wasn’t a dry eye when they’d finally pulled apart. Laughing through their tears, the boys regaled Anne with their latest escapades, excited for her eventual return to the school.

You sat in the back of Ominis’s mind as he celebrated with his friends, longing to share this moment with you, but understanding why he couldn’t. He resolved to find you as soon as they returned to the castle, eternally grateful for the risk you’d taken.

____________________

Sebastian and Ominis only spent a couple hours with Anne, wandering back towards the castle in the early afternoon. The boys parted ways after entering Hogwarts, Sebastian walking leisurely toward their Common Room.

Ominis didn’t even wait for Sebastian to turn the corner before taking off. He checked all of your usual haunts, failing to spot you anywhere. He started checking the classrooms to see if you’d maybe gone to speak to a professor, all coming up empty.

He made his way to the Astronomy Tower, having already checked the other classrooms, wondering where you could have possibly disappeared to. He passes a blank portion of wall, stopping at the light sound of metal on brick. Turning, he watches in awe as a door appears, beckoning him forward.

He opens the door slightly, cautiously sticking his wand in first, mapping the room beyond. His eyes widened as he yanked the door open, and taking a few hesitant steps in, he disappeared inside.

The room was enormous. He subconsciously wondered how his wand had never picked up such a huge space. He could hear the faint call of gulls and running water, sensing another large room down a nearby hall, but unable to glean any details.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else there, until a house elf appeared next to him, startling the blind boy. “Oh, Master Gaunt! What a surprise! What can Deek help you with?” Ominis looked from Deek, to the room, and back to Deek.

“Wha- What is this place, um…Deek?” Deek smiles at him kindly.

“It’s the Room of Requirement, Master Gaunt! It sometimes appears to students in need. What were you looking for when it appeared? Maybe Deek can help you find it!” Ominis blinked. He’d been thinking about you. His thoughts had been a jumbled mess, unsure what to even say when he finally found you. During his search, Ominis had considered keeping his knowledge to himself, but ultimately decided to come clean. He hadn’t thought he could keep his emotions in check enough to come up with a convincing lie. His heart was pounding too hard with a driving need to see you, the feeling only increasing the longer you evaded him.

He relayed his intentions to Deek, who smiled widely back. “Well! You’re certainly in the right place. They’re right down the hall, should Deek show you?”

Ominis shook his head and thanked the elf, walking quickly into the next room. There were plant pots and potion desks lining the walls, a pleasant scent hanging in the air. Ominis scanned the room, spotting you over by a truly massive Chinese chomping cabbage. He had no idea they could get that big, but there you were, petting it lovingly, unafraid.

He has no memory of walking towards you, not entirely in control of his body. You turn around, bumping directly into his chest, and let out a surprised gasp. “Fuck! Who- Ominis! You- Merlin's beard, you scared me. How did you-“

Ominis drops his wand on the floor carelessly, hands coming up to cradle your face reverently.

“Thank you.” His lips land on your forehead first, kissing the skin slowly. You make a small noise of surprise, but otherwise are unable to speak.

“Thank you.” He kissed your left eye, voice barely above a whisper. Your hands unconsciously rest themselves on his forearms, gripping them slightly.

“Thank you.” You feel the delicate press of his lips on your right eye.

“For saving Anne.” He kissed the bridge of your nose tenderly, before skipping your lips and kissing your chin. “For saving Sebastian.”

He looks at you with hooded eyes, stopping a hair's breadth away. Thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly, pausing only for a moment. “For saving me.”

You shake your head slightly. “I didn’t-“

“You did.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, brushing it ever so slightly. He hadn’t realized until this moment, but you had indeed saved him. He’d lost so much so quickly, and was on the path to losing whatever he had left. Anne was gone, and Sebastian was killing himself to get her back. Ominis had felt like he was drowning. His friends, who were really his family, were fading. There had been nothing he could do to stop it, but…you did. Self sacrificing, stubborn, beautiful you. He knew he was done for. He wanted to fill his lungs with you, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.

The air hung heavily between you, the tension almost stifling. Ominis gently brushed your nose with his.

“Can I kiss you?” Ominis spoke the words into your mouth, his voice needy, waiting for your answer.

“If you want to.”

He let out a shuddering breath, and inched impossibly closer. “Desperately.”

Pressing your lips together, he kissed you slowly, savoring each second. He groaned, pulling away briefly, only to come surging back with renewed vigor. Ominis’s hands slid down your sides, coming to wrap around your middle. Your arms came up around his shoulders, fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the strands. Ominis gasps, pulling your hips impossibly closer, grinding his lower body into you.

He tears his mouth away from you, but doesn’t go far. Leaning his forehead against yours, you both take some time to catch your breath. He recovered faster, and started gently scattering soft kisses around your neck and jaw, continuing his ministrations while he spoke. “I don’t- I can’t articulate how grateful I am. You’ve done- Merlin’s beard, you’ve done so much for me. How would I even begin to repay you?”

You’re roused a bit from your dazed stupor at his words, tilting your head down slowly to look at him again, shaking your head. “Ominis, there’s nothing to repay. You owe me nothing.”

Ominis took a step back and sunk to the floor, kneeling in front of you. You had to grab onto the table behind you to avoid collapsing. You were rendered speechless at the sight of Ominis, on his knees before you. His hands rested on your outer thighs, thumbs stroking back and forth idly.

He looked up at you with unadulterated adoration, his sightless eyes searching for you longingly. “You saved my family.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly on your thighs.

“I owe you everything.” Leaning forward, his lips placed a light kiss on your left thigh, scorching you through the fabric. He moved to kiss the other thigh just as tenderly, a shiver racing down your spine in anticipation. Hands creeping up to rest on your hips, he pressed a couple more kisses into your stomach, face nuzzling you here and there.

“I’d spend the rest of my days showing you how grateful I am,” his chin came to rest on your stomach “if you’d let me.” Eyes hooded, boring into yours, you move your fingers to brush his cheek ever so slightly. He leaned his head fully into your palm, an edge of desperation slipping into his voice. “Please, let me.” He turned his face, kissing the palm of your hand, whispering into your skin like a prayer. “Please.”

You can hardly breathe. Your heart, pounding faster than your first time flying on Highwing. The sight of this beautiful, refined, proud man begging on his knees was something straight out of a muggle romance novel. You cupped his other cheek with your hand, bending over and pressing a firm kiss into his soft lips. He groaned into your mouth, chasing you as you tried to pull away. Indulging him for a few more seconds, he whines as you actually pull away this time.

“Ominis.” You pant his name into his mouth, he gasps and unconsciously rolls his hips forward, looking for friction.

“Yes, darling.” He looked like a man starving. His hands had tucked themselves behind your knees, trembling from the effort of maintaining a sliver of his composure.

“Ominis I-”

“I’m heading out to run a few errands for Professor Weasley, do you or Master Gaunt need Deek to get anything?” You and Ominis were startled out of your private little world, jumping apart for fear of Deek seeing you in such a compromising position.

Your brain fought through the foggy haze it'd settled in, and quickly answered Deek. “We’re ok Deek. Just talking. Take your time! No rush to come back.”

You waited until you heard the elf apparate out of the room, looking around for somewhere to conceal you both, should Deek return too soon. You hear the familiar sound of the room changing itself to accommodate your needs.

Ominis yelped and covered his head, and you spotted a door forming on the far wall. The door swung open on its own, revealing a spacious bedroom on the other side.

“What the hell just happened?” You turned back to Ominis to see him peeking out from under his arms comically, in great contrast to his previous behavior. Ominis lowers his arms at the sound of your amused laughter, pouting a bit. You brush the back of his hand with yours and he quickly captures it in his.

“Uh, well, it seems like the room thought we needed a more…private place to finish our conversation.” You looked away blushing, but quickly turned back when you felt an impatient tug on your hand.

“I can’t find it. Show me.” You could hear the barely contained neediness in Ominis’s voice. Realizing Ominis didn’t have his wand, you start searching the ground around you.

“Ominis, your wand-”

“Don’t care. We’ll look later.” Getting impatient, he starts dragging you in a random direction.

Laughing once more, you redirect him towards the open door, spotting a fully furnished master bedroom, attached bathroom and all. Ominis waits for the sound of the door closing, before crowding you against it, trapping you with his body. His hands cradle your face once again, forcing you to look into his stunning silver eyes. He looks like it pains him to keep your lips apart, but he resists the temptation with furrowed brows, waiting. “Well?”

You want to laugh at his ridiculous question, but your voice comes out closer to a sob. “Do you even have to ask? I think you know very well that I’m yours, that I have been for-” He didn’t even let you finish before slamming his mouth down onto yours. Hands quickly trailing down to your thighs before hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his hips. You exchanged pleased sighs and hungry moans, your tongues dancing to the tune.

You fought to stay together as long as possible, becoming lightheaded as your lungs screamed for air. Ominis only tore himself away to suck in a deep breath, panting a desperate ‘I love you’ against your lips before diving back in. You lost track of how long you stayed entangled, exchanging I love you’s between sweet kisses and gentle touches, your intense fervor for one another slowly cooling to a low simmer.

At some point Ominis had carried you to the bed, where you currently lay facing each other, basking in the other's arms. Your fingers ran through his hair as he placed lazy kisses on your neck and collar bone, purring a quiet ‘I love you’ after each one. You sighed contentedly, thinking about how far you’d both come from that very first meeting.

You laughed quietly to yourself, prompting a curious hum from Ominis, who continued his slow ministrations.

“You wanna know something?” Your voice was barely audible, afraid to break the peaceful atmosphere too soon.

“What’s that, my darling?” Ominis whispered the words into your shoulder, placing a light kiss on it right after.

You fought to keep the shit eating grin off your face, not wanting Ominis to get suspicious at the change in your tone. “The day we first met, when I came over to help you with your assignment?”

“Mhmm?” Another kiss behind your ear.

“Sebastian actually caught me staring at you.” You huffed out an amused laugh. “He’s very protective, tried picking a fight with me.” Ominis chuckled with you, running the tip of his nose along your jaw, quiet for a moment.

“What were you thinking about?” You smirked to yourself, knowing you’d caught him.

“When?” You put on an innocent act, pretending you didn’t know what he was asking.

He huffed another amused laugh against your cheek. “When you were ogling me shamelessly across the library.” His hand was gliding gently down your arm, coming to rest on your hip.

“Well…” You finally allowed the wide grin to spread itself across your face, making sure he’d be able to hear the taunting lilt to your voice. “I was thinking about how pretty you’d look with your dick in my mouth.”

Ominis barked out a surprised laugh, pulling you tighter against him and hiding his red face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the wide, happy grin he pressed into your skin, shoulders shaking with laughter. He brought his teeth to your ear, biting it gently in retaliation, causing you to squirm as he trapped you against his chest.

“You naughty thing.”

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy #romance #fanfic #ominis gaunt x reader

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SEVEN

in which you come to a few realizations while remembering the very first night you'd met eddie. a phone call with steve leaves you with more questions than answers.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, heavier angst this chapter but all will be well soon, two uses of y/n, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ word count: 4.4k+

→ a/n: shorter chapter today but the focus here is the memory! finally making some progress haha. also trying out something new with formatting/the summary situation. if i hate it, i'll probably change it. <3 also, italicized portion is a memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

7:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00

DINGUS: [image attachment]

DINGUS: y/n just texted me this. we’re not getting an update this hour.

BIRDIE: what the hell happened?

DINGUS: she hasn’t said yet, as you can see in the photo, robs.

ARGYLE 😎: what do we THINK happened?

BIRDIE: my best bet is fighting?

ARGYLE 😎: lover’s quarrel? Makes sense.

BIRDIE: i’m adding nance back into the chat

BIRDIE added NANCE to the groupchat.

BIRDIE: @NANCE explain what you meant earlier please. we’re having a code red. the bad kind.

DINGUS: there’s a good kind of code red?

NANCE: Oh God, what happened?

DINGUS: y/n texted me saying she fucked up, and we’re assuming either she’s finally murdered eddie, or they’re fighting again.

NANCE: I can call Eddie, if you guys want?

JOHNNY: So does this mean we’re all $500 richer?

BIRDIE: @JOHNNY if you still think this is about the money, you’re a fucking idiot

—

HOUR SEVEN - 10:00 PM

There had been a time in your life where you believed you didn’t hold a single mean bone in your body. A time where you were soft-spoken, a time where you overflowed with kindness and dotted out compliments to random strangers. There was once a version of you in this lifetime that worked so fervently to be the type of person people liked and enjoyed the company of. You always swore to always treat others with the same grace as you would prefer to receive as well.

A year ago, that version of you had been sidetracked.

You stare at the wooden frame of Eddie’s door with blank eyes. He wasn’t going to open it any time soon. You’d tried knocking multiple times, calling out to him in a soft voice, begging and pleading and begging and pleading. His response continued to be silence.

“All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

With the haze clearing, in the midst of the aftermath and sour clarity, you wish you would have corrected him. Eddie and you had surely hurt each other countless times, but it is not all he’s ever done.

You can remember the better moments clearly now. The time you’d tripped walking up the steps of one of the bars on Main Street, and Eddie had been the only person in your friend group to stop completely, reflectively reaching out to catch you from embarrassing yourself. The night of your birthday, in which he hadn’t come to the party due to “work” as Steve had explained, but had sent a card along with your friends that contained a gift card to your favorite coffee shop. You hadn’t even realized he knew your favorite coffee shop, and you’d come to find out that he didn’t even ask a single one of your mutual friends for it. You’d brushed it off as a lucky guess. And there was the time you’d forgotten your wallet during a brunch with the group, and he hadn’t hesitated to pick up your bill with his own. He didn’t even give Robin the chance to argue; he’d simply snatched your bill from across the table when you’d paled as you dug through your bag, and didn’t say a word about you paying him back.

Small moments. Glimpses of kindness, bandages on wounds that you’d been ignoring to keep up a war between the two of you that you’d always assumed he’d started.

Eddie Munson wasn’t the enemy, and the first night you two met was never a red herring; it was a glimpse into who he actually was. A clear look past the armor he hadn’t formed yet when it came to you.

—

A YEAR AGO

“They’re going to love you!” Robin insists as she continues to shove you from behind through the entrance of the bar. Steve is ahead of you, guiding you through the rough crowd to the table the rest of the group had already snagged.

You turn your head over your shoulder, reaching up and grabbing the hand that Robin rested on you, “You don't know that. What if they hate me? What if they think I’m the worst person they’ve ever met?”

Even as you wore a smile, there was a truth to the fear in your words. You were petrified that these strangers, strangers who meant so much to your only friends on campus, would turn their noses to you. There was nothing Robin or Steve could do to extinguish the fear. It was already a terrible knot in the pit of your stomach, tying and untying itself like a nuisance as Steve started to wave at a brunette who had been scanning the bar as if waiting for someone.

She’s pretty. Wavy hair barely brushing her shoulders, sharp features accentuated in the shadows of the busy location. The moment her blue eyes locked on Steve, all the concentration on her face faded to be replaced with an excited smile.

She returns the wave, and the boys surrounding her at the table all glance in your direction.

You’re still half-hidden behind Steve as the three of you approach the group. Robin bounds out from behind you, scooping the woman you assumed was the famous Nancy into a barrelling hug. Your eyes flickered to the boy sat to Nancy’s right, shaggy hair flopping against his forehead and smile creases exposed as he nods to Steve and holds up his drink in greeting. Beside him, another man sits, long and shiny hair flowing over an outrageous Hawaiian print shirt and topped off with a baseball cap that looked to be the merchandise of a pizza shop. His smile is welcoming – something comforting in the relaxation of it.

You’re almost completely captivated by the warmth that bled from the group when Steve and Robin are suddenly taking their seats. Robin sits beside Nancy, while Steve takes the seat across from the man with long hair.

The only seat left open was between Steve and a man who’s back was turned to you.

His hair is in a loose bun, unraveling against the nape of his neck. You could see each and every defined curl. His broad shoulders stiffen beneath a leather jacket and denim vest, and his ring-clad hand cradles a short glass of something dark, something fizzy.

“Alright, everyone!” Steve announces, turning and beckoning you to take this seat. Your stomach twists again, realizing you’d be sitting beside a stranger. One who had yet to even spare you a glance, “This is Y/N.”

There’s rounds of greetings and introductions as you brush shoulders with the stranger to take your seat, and try as you might to keep up, all you can focus on is not looking at him.

You’re guess was correct – the pretty girl that Robin had hugged was Nancy. The boy with floppy hair at her side was Jonathan, and the man with long hair told you his name is Argyle. His tone of casualty matches the comfort of his smile as he holds a hand out to you across the table, both your elbow and his brushing against empty baskets once filled with bar food as you shake.

Finally, you turn to look at the stranger beside you, Steve reaching around to clasp his shoulder.

“And mister oh-so-welcoming here is Eddie.”

Eddie. He finally turns to look at you, with doleful eyes and a tight-lipped grin, and you almost forget how to breathe.

He was intimidating. All broodish glances and stand-offish energy. But then Argyle cracks a joke, and suddenly, it all fades. The air in the room crackles frantically as you watch him chuckle slowly at first, until he finally descends into cackles with Steve and Jonathan alike.

That’s when the first vine sprouts.

The second one does when the conversation becomes overwhelming, and you find yourself lost amongst the sea of new friends. They’re nothing but friendly, trying to learn more about you but easily falling into well-established inside jokes at times. When you descend into silence as you watch them recount a story of a time that Argyle snuck them into his job after hours, you suddenly feel Eddie lean in closer to you.

“I think they tell this story every time they get drunk,” he whispers, tilting his head so that the words only reach your ears, “I’ve probably heard it a hundred times by now.”

You bite back a smile, “Just tonight, or the entire time you’ve known them?”

“Both.”

You have to fight hard to swallow down giggles, Eddie hiding his with a sip of his drink. A waiter who had taken your order nearly ten minutes ago arrives with your own drink. An amaretto sour.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he says as you taste the drink. Its citrus bursts across your tongue and you nod.

“So Steve mentioned.”

“Yeah, but I felt bad for not introducing myself,” he shrugs. You were facing him fully now, no longer trying to stick vehemently to Steve’s side. “I didn’t want to seem like a dick, just… had a long week.”

You knew all about long weeks.

“I get it,” you assure him, “Are you in school, too?”

“Night classes,” he supplies with a wave of his hand, “Midterms are a bitch, especially after working all day.”

“Tell me about it. I think I’m about ten seconds away from getting fired at my current gig,” you joke, and Eddie laughs. It occurs to you that you’d probably do just about anything to hear his laugh more, and already begin to conjure up terrible jokes to pull that sound from him once more. It’s even more comforting than Argyle’s friendly cadence, than Steve’s elbow knocking yours to remind you he’s still there.

“Why would you think that?” Eddie’s nose scrunches, more curls falling against his cheek. Your drink is immediately forgotten.

“He caught me talking shit,” another laugh falls from Eddie’s lips at your deadpan, more reserved than the previous but just as melodic, “I give it a week. He was already looking for a reason to send me to the chopping block. Says I talk too much to customers.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Apparently.”

For a moment, in the smoky bar, it’s just you and Eddie. All knotting nerves have been replaced by the weight of the vines that surge higher and higher in your chest, growing at impossible rates. They don’t strangle you like your fears of the night had; their weight is a comforting hold, something solid to reach out for in the unfamiliar territory of new socialization. Without the mask of intimidation, Eddie feels like an old friend.

You assume that everyone else is distracted by their own conversation, but Robin catches the way you lean into him as the two of you joke. She nudges Nancy subtly, and they both share a look when Eddie blushes at you being impressed as he tells you that his battle vest is hand-sewn.

Your vines are not as hidden as you assume they are, certainly not when the first bud of hopefulness begins to grow.

“So how long have you known Steve?” you ask him quietly, still under the guise of the two of you having created your own small bubble of a moment.

Eddie downs the last of his Jack & Coke, something you caught onto by smelling it on his breath when he had gotten particularly close to you during conversation, “Too long. We all met in high school, actually.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that,” you groan, and your forehead dramatically falls into his shoulder without second-thought. He stiffens beneath the connection, “I’m infiltrating a friend group that’s stood the test of times? I’m doomed.”

You nearly lift your head from his still stiff shoulder, afraid to make him uncomfortable, when he brings a hesitant hand to pat your back jokingly, “There, there. I think you’re fitting in fine.”

“Just fine? Ouch,” you finally lift your head as you had planned to, just as Eddie had begun to relax into your touch. His hand doesn’t fall too far from your back, resting on the back of your chair. His shy grin is impossibly charming, “You could have just said I’m crashing and burning, you know?”

The night carries on like that, you and Eddie lost in private conversations only to be occasionally dragged back in on whatever debate the group is having. It’s a spring reaction; once one or both of you have given your two cents, you return to one another, finding solitude in joking and Eddie updating you on the group’s ‘lore’, as he puts it. Steve shoots several glances in your direction, always prepared to offer comfort in what should be an overwhelming situation, but he never has to. Every time he glances at you, Eddie is already taking the lead of entertaining you, qualming all your anxieties into non-existence.

Your vines decorate with buds of hope. Every laugh you pull from Eddie, every fleeting touch that passes between the two of you, every new inside joke he decides to make with you rather than indulging in ones set in stone already with old friends - they all whisper of new friendship. They whisper in potential, in new beginnings and coming home after long weeks.

By the time Nancy announces she has to go to the restroom and invites you and Robin, you’re in full bloom. You’re convinced that Eddie is a friend. And you can see it in his eyes – he’s convinced of it too, looking nervous when you stand and agree to go with Nancy. He looks like a child about to lose their social crutch, and it has potential to be devastating.

It’s almost enough to make you ignore your bladder, but you need to pee, and you need to socialize with more than just Eddie tonight.

You’re not sure what happens at the table during your trip to the bathroom. But something surely does happen as you giggle with the girls under the humming lights of the restroom, as you all stand in the mirror side by side and fiddle with your hair and makeup and Robin makes a comment about how terribly cliche the moment is. Nancy slaps her on the arm, mutters something about the importance of girls bonding, and when you return to the table, you see it immediately – Eddie’s mask of indifference has returned.

His cheeks are flushed, and all the boys are sharing nervous glances between one another as you all sit down again.

There’s no more fleeting touches. You sip on your now watered down drink, and you try and pull Eddie out from wherever he’s ventured in your absence, but it’s no use. A conversation was had while you girls had been in the restroom, and it left Eddie in his head, out of reach. The buds of hopefulness quiver on their vines, and you try to reassure yourself that it’s nothing personal. It’s nothing personal when he clearly holds back any laughs at your jokes you lean into his space to whisper to only him, it’s nothing personal when his arm never rests on the back of your chair again, it’s nothing personal when he won’t meet your eyes the rest of the night.

It’s nothing personal, but it’s sorely disappointing.

You end the night, everyone splitting up, Eddie heading off towards his motorcycle. He hadn’t even mentioned driving a motorcycle during the night, and you curse the way you watch him straddle the seat as he secures his helmet over his tied-back hair. You desperately wish to know what was said while you were in the bathroom, what had happened to make him retreat so far from you after spending the entirety of the night tending to the greenery that had grown attached to your ribcage.

“You like him, don’t you?” Robin teases at your side, bumping shoulders.

Something aches in you. The thrill of meeting someone new, of getting along, of finding them cute and endearing, is beyond your grasp.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

“I did,” you whisper softly. A reverberation of past-tense, an exhale of worry.

You did. But he didn’t even say goodbye.

—

Eddie still hasn’t opened the door. But to his defense, you haven’t tried knocking again.

That ache from that night, the feeling of a delicate rush of possibility taunting you from a distance, still remains. Even amongst now rotted vines, even as petals fall from your hopeful buds. It never really went away. With each group hangout that followed, it echoed louder and louder, demanding to be heard and demanding to be felt as Eddie grew colder. You were an idiot the first few times; you’d still gravitated to him, falling right into his orbit and begging for his attention. You’d still seek him out in every room, craving to find the warmth that had once sparked in his eyes only to find them averted from you entirely. And when you couldn’t take the hint, when you wouldn’t leave him alone when Steve and Robin left you to your own devices at the hangouts, he became mean.

You took it as a joke at first, but six months ago, something inside of you finally wisened up – it wasn’t a joke. Eddie Munson hated you. Somehow, he hated you, and yet he also swore to protect you. He hated you, and yet he would still pay for you without you asking him to. He hated you, and yet he still remembered your birthday. He hated you, and yet, he still knew your favorite coffee shop.

He hated you and yet.

You stand, unable to take your racing thoughts anymore, moving to pound on the door again, “Eddie. Open the door.”

You’re not asking anymore.

You don’t care for answers any more. In this moment, you truly believe you could let it all be water under the bridge. Right this second, if you looked into honey brown eyes and goddamn dimples, you’d forgive him.

“Eddie,” your voice cracks, and you scorn yourself.

All I ever do is hurt you.

Even in locking himself away, he’s hurting you. Putting that distance, choosing to not work this out like adults, is hurting you.

“Can you- I don’t know, at least let me know that… that…” you trail off, huffing in frustration and finally smacking a flat palm against wood, watching the door shake on its hinges from your force, “Just let me know you’re alive, Jesus Christ, Eddie. We still have to take the stupid fucking photo for this hour, and we-”

Mid-tirade, the door swings open to reveal Eddie. He doesn’t look irritated, he doesn’t look mad. He looks tired.

The war between you two has weighed heavy on him, too. He doesn’t look like the same person you met a year ago. The battles raged, the fights lost, the victories celebrated through bloody teeth – they all show on the shadows of his face, a clear mirror image to your own.

“Take the photo,” he says in monotone, hardly leaving the door cracked enough to catch a proper glimpse of him.

“What?”

“The photo. Take it. For the chat, so you can get your money when it’s all over.”

You’re stunned for a second. The money hadn’t even crossed your mind; you had just been rambling, hoping to find the right thing to say to get him to unlock the barrier between you two.

Who the fuck even cares about the money anymore?

You do. You’re supposed to. And so is he.

You sigh and pull your phone from your back pocket, and turn your back to him before lifting the camera to capture the two of you. The door creaks open an inch more.

There’s no fun pose. There’s no smiles. There’s nothing. It’s even more lifeless than the first photo taken. You can’t stand to look at it longer than necessary as you send it off to the group.

Just as you turn around to face him again, to try and talk to him, the door shuts again. You can hear the soft click of a lock. The ache is heard, the ache is felt, as you refuse to look back at the wood that still separates you physically, at the emotions that separate you mentally.

You don’t really know why you do it. But you walk out to the living room, deciding against sitting outside the door any longer and continuing to make yourself miserable. Your feet carry you straight to the sliding door of his balcony, and you press outside into the cooler night air, shutting the door behind you.

What happened when I was in the bathroom that night?

The thought haunts you, a new ghost that had been lingering and gathering dust since that night. You never asked anyone, certainly not Eddie, and refuse to overthink it until now. But after tonight, after practically reliving your first encounter with Eddie all over again, the deja vu and the curiosity are winning over.

You dial Steve’s number.

“Hell-”

“Why do me and Eddie hate each other?” you blurt out, cutting off Steve’s greeting.

“I- What?” Steve’s confused, understandably so, “How should I know? I don’t keep a list of every time you rant about him to me.”

“What about him?”

“Okay, you know I love you, but I’m not a mind-read-”

“What about a list of every time he rants about me?”

Silence buzzes through the line, and you glance up at the night sky. It’s a cloudy black. The city pollution hides most of the stars, and from Eddie’s balcony, you can’t locate the moon.

“I also don’t have one of those.”

“Why not? Because, Jesus Christ, Harrington, I have questions-”

“Because he doesn’t rant about you. Especially not to me, but Nancy says he never talks about you usually either,” Steve explains in an even tone, still not sure how his answer should be helping you. You are the one, afterall, with Eddie right now.

Even if he is locked away in his room right now, refusing to speak to you.

“That makes no sense,” you sigh, exasperation creeping its way into your bones, “I rant about him all the time. I’ve bitched to you and Robin more times than I can count about him. He should be doing the same.”

Steve says your name softly, “Why are you asking me this?”

You laugh humorlessly and shake your head, even knowing Steve can’t see you, “It’s stupid. Forget it,” It’s not stupid to you, and you can’t forget it, but this doesn’t concern Steve, “Can I ask you one last question, though?”

“Shoot, babydoll,” you can’t help but grin at that nickname. Steve pulls it out at random, every time he’s trying to make you feel bad. He knows that neither of you can take it seriously.

“Um, that night you introduced me to everyone,” you begin, stepping up to wrap your free hand around the iron railing of Eddie’s balcony, letting the cold seep into your palm, “At the bar, you know?”

“Right…” he encourages, “What about it?”

“Me and Eddie got along,” you spit it out, letting it tear from your chest and score your throat on its way out, “We… we were getting along at first, and then I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, he…. He…”

He was gone. The Eddie I’d first met had vanished. Where’d he go? Why’d he go?

“Shit, your memory is way better than mine,” Steve chuckles, sounding nervous, “But, I mean, I kind of remember that. You two getting along, at least. Guess that’s why we all were really confused when you started hating each other. But I’m still not understanding the question - are you asking if I remember the night? Or if he’s ever talked about it? I was a jock, you’re gonna have to spell it out for my pea brain.”

“Stop insinuating you’re stupid,” you scold on instinct, scowl settling along your features as you lean onto the railing and glance down. It’s only two stories, but the ground feels impossibly far as you ask, “What happened when all us girls went to the bathroom? When we came back, he acted differently. Did he mention hating me that night? Did I leave a bad first impression? Was it all just a joke to hi-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. One question, remember?” you’re sure Steve can hear the panting in your breath over the line, the way your chest heaves in the memory, “I’ve gotta be honest - I don’t remember. I know that’s probably not the answer you’re looking for, and I don’t know what’s going on with you two right now, but I was already well on my way to drunk. I think Jonathan and Argyle poked some fun at Eddie, maybe teased him about something, but I really can’t recall what it was about. Maybe his hair? Who knows?”

The answer isn’t helpful. It’s only more confusing, more hurtful.

He stopped joking with you because someone made fun of his hair? You lost access to the warmth buried beneath his surface because his friends teased him?

“Okay,” you sound defeated. You feel defeated – defeated by the weight of still feeling like an outsider, defeated by the barrier of some measly wooden door, defeated by the hurt in Eddie’s eyes as you admitted that he only ever hurts you, “Okay, thanks, Steve.”

You hang up before either of you say goodbye. When you pull your phone down from your cheek and ear, you see your phone still open to the photo of Eddie and you that you’d sent to the group.

You were wrong. There wasn’t only nothing. Your face may have been void of all emotions, but now looking at it, you can see Eddie’s isn’t.

He’s looking at you and not the camera during the shot, face crestfallen, eyes nearly teary as the corners of his mouth tucked downward.

He’s looking at you with regret, with sadness. He’s looking at you as if he can see the vines he’d planted in you, all rotted and dusting away, and he’s mourning them just as you had.

It’s bullshit, or your imagination, or your innate need for Eddie to bleed the same way as you have over your entire situation with each other. You lock your phone and don’t bother to look at the photo again as you enter the living room, as you toss your phone onto the loveseat, as you curl up on the couch and don’t even bother to go to ask for a pillow or blanket. He probably wouldn’t answer the door, anyway.

You don’t say goodnight to Eddie, just as he never said goodbye to you the first night, and wonder if he notices the absence of your salutation.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#eddie munson #twenty four hours #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #feels so short of a chapter haha #angsty babes

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tfgalore · 6 months

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Test Of Time

“One…two…three…four….” I grunted as I struggled to lift the plate loaded bar. I set it back down, panting as I sat up, annoyed at myself. The last few weeks, and even months, I’d been getting weaker. Thanks to my aging body, I was getting weaker, it was harder to build muscle in the gym, and even people were coming up to me, telling me I looked tired or pointing out slowly graying hairs. I sighed, knowing that my 60’s was something I’d have to deal with eventually. I was suddenly snapped out of my thoughts by a excited whoop from my left. I turned to look, seeing a younger guy benching almost thrice my weight. His muscles were bulging, and he had a grin on his face. He was clearly in the prime of his youth, which made me jealous. If only there was a way to get back my youth…

That thought was the beginning of my obsession with witchcraft. At first, I just looked for ways to turn back the hands of time, to get my body back to its 20’s but I came up with nothing. Just as I was about to give up, I came across a possession spell. An idea clicked in my mind as memories of the hunk from the gym flashed in my mind. A grin spread across my face, as I delved into more research about it.

A week later, I was back at the gym, prepared to take my new life. I wiped my sweaty palms on my sweatpants, gulping as beads of sweat dripped down my face, a nervous expression plastered on. I had no clue if this was actually going to work, but I had to try. As the hunk, who’s name is learned was Sam, walked by, I quickly grabbed him by the wrist. He locked eyes with me, in confusion as he tried to pull away, but I started to mutter the spell, and our worlds seemed to spin.

I could feel my body changing. My wrinkled skin started to tighten, and glow with renewed youth as his started to crinkle slightly like creased paper. My muscles started to inflate and bulge, newfound strength flowing through them as the same happened to my legs and calves. I grinned as I looked down to see I now had muscular and toned thighs just like Sam had before. Our faces started to shift and warp. Sam was panicking. He clearly had no idea what was happening, other than the fact that he was getting weaker and weaker. I stared back up, only to come face to face with my previous self. It was like looking into a mirror, except now, I looked exactly like Sam had before.

I pulled away from the other, grinning. A quick look in the nearby mirror had me smiling from ear to ear as I flexed my bicep and rolled my abs. The control I had over each muscle was amazing. “Holy shit…it worked!” I grinned. Meanwhile, Sam was having a breakdown. He grabbed me, trying to force me to undo whatever curse I’d just done. A slight altercation and a phone call to the police later, Sam was getting dragged out by security guards, cursing and screaming that I’d stolen his body. Everyone assumed he was crazy, a man going senile after the stress of work and age had finally caught up to him.

Ever since then, living as Sam has been such a blast. Everyone was surprised when I came out as gay, but now I’ve got plenty of guys lining up at my door just to be fucked or fuck me. Sam has a huge trust fund too, but instead of dipping into that, I decided to start up an OnlyFans. Something about having guys pay to watch me jerk off or have sex just turns me on beyond anything, and I make some good money from it. I wonder if the old Sam is subscribed too. I’ve even graduated from college now. The old Sam wasn’t doing too well, but with my previous knowledge, I’ve managed to turn that around, graduating as one of the top students. Life really couldn’t get any better…and the best part, I never have to worry about getting old again. All o have to do is find another hunk when the time comes.

#gay #male body swap #body swap #gay body swap

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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

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Chapter 11- Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago

Summary: After an invitation from your cousin, you and Javi take a trip to Chicago to meet your family and attend her wedding.

Word Count: 14.6K (She's lengthy, your honor)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, drunk sex (all consensual, obvs), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint, but y'all already know) PTSD/anxiety around greif/loss, mentions of religion (the wedding is at a church), drinking alcohol/being drunk (that's what weddings are for, right?), your family being a hot mess but they're sweet and they love you and LOVE Javi, Javi being the best boyfriend ever 10,000 gold stars for him

A/N: Hi everyone!! Thanks for your patience as I finished cranking out this chapter (teaching is hard and children are exhausting), but we are finally done!! We are finally getting to meet Osita's family (eek!!!) and are one step closer to... THINGS *wink wink* happening hehehehe As always, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs, I love these two more than life and you supporting my lil stories means the world to me 🥺💕 My goal is to have chapter 12 done in the next two-ish weeks, thank you for your patience!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“No, I know, Mom. Yes, I promise I will let her know by today. You understand why I’m having a hard time with this, right? I understand that Charlie and David are going. Okay. Yes. I know. I know, Mom. Tell Dad I say hi, too. Okay, love you too, bye.”

Javi could practically hear your exasperated sighs down the hallway, coming home from work to find you on the phone, hands rubbing against your temples as you finished your conversation with your mom. Since moving into your apartment together, Javi had become familiar with the routine of you taking time to talk to your mom once a week, even offering to hop on the call quickly to say hello if he was home. It was something he could tell you normally seemed to look forward to, seeing how much you missed your family considering it was September, and you hadn’t seen them since you moved to Texas in January. That’s why when he heard the frustration and annoyance over the phone, he gave you a concerned look that you quickly tried to brush away.

“Your mom?” Javi asked, hanging up his suit jacket on the back of the kitchen chair as he made his way over to you, giving you a quick kiss hello, wrapping his arm around your waist as you set down the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was my mom.” You huffed, Javi looking at you in confusion as an unfamiliar scowl covered your face.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, prompting you to come sit with him on the couch. You curled up next to him, laying your head in his lap as he played with the ends of your hair, waiting patiently to hear what had been bothering you so much from your phone call.

“It’s my mom just being my mom.” You grumbled, pushing your face deeper into Javi’s thigh, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your temples, making your head hurt. Javi could tell you were holding back, now taking his other hand to trace circles along your shoulder blades, trying to coax an answer out of you. He had come to learn that if something was bothering you, your stubbornness did not allude well to you sharing, insisting that you were fine until he was persistent enough to get it out of you.

Guess all those years of interrogation in the DEA were still good for something.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so grumpy after talking on the phone with your mom, and you guys talk all the time. What’s going on, Hermosa?”

Letting out a deep breath, you rolled over, the back of your head resting in Javi’s lap so you could look at him, those stupid, sweet chocolate eyes already staring back at you. “Fine, you win again, puppy dog eyes Peña. My cousin Kelly is getting married in a month. I was supposed to RSVP for us last week since she gave me a plus one, but I couldn’t make up my mind, so my mom has been trying to stall for me, but she said Kelly needs to know her final head count by tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you want to go? I feel like I’ve heard you talk about Kelly, it seems like the two of you are pretty close?” Javi prodded, still knowing there was something you weren’t telling him.

“It’s in Chicago.”

Ah. There it was.

As much as you missed your family, there was a reason you hadn’t been back to Chicago since you moved to Laredo. Not because you didn’t want to see them. Not because you didn’t miss Chicago. Not even because you were worried about running into Paul. You didn’t want to go back to Chicago, because you hadn’t been there since your brother died. It was easy to blame your shitty ex for your cross country move, and that was a story that people seemed to understand without question. What they were missing was the real reason you up and left Chicago as fast as you did. It was because Patrick had died in December, and it took less than a month for you to realize you needed to be as far away from the memory of him as possible. Your parents had offered multiple times for you to come back and visit. They had even offered to pay for your flight to and from Texas to see them. Everytime you found yourself close to saying yes, you found that unpacked “Chicago” box staring at you in your living room, telling you that you just couldn’t do it yet. You hadn’t gone back, because that meant you had to face all of the things that you ran halfway across the country from. And that reason was much harder to explain as to how you had found yourself all the way in Laredo, Texas.

“You want me to be honest with you, Osita?” He looked down at you, fingers still curling around the ends of your hair in his lap.

“I guess.” You grumbled, letting out another sigh.

“It would be stupid for you to not go.”

“Javi you know that-“ you retorted, pushing yourself up to sit next to him.

“I know. I know what you’re gonna say. I get it. It took me a fucking decade to really face any of my family after my mom died because I thought it would be easier to ignore it. It wasn’t. It was still painful as fuck, and I wish I would have just ripped the bandaid off sooner. Your family misses you, baby. You can’t ignore it forever.” He leaned over to press a kiss against your temple, you still sulking in your silence. “When were you gonna tell me that you got a plus one to this thing, huh?” He smirked at you, finally getting a smile to curve from the ends of your lips.

“Never. I was planning on taking your Dad since I know he won’t pester me about doing the right thing and he’s more fun than you anyways.” You smirked back at him giving Javi a nudge before laying your head back down on his lap. You took a deep breath before you spoke again, closing your eyes with your exhale. “I know that you know you’re right, you don’t need to rub it in. You really think I should go? You’d come with me?” You glanced up at him as he smiled down at you.

“I thought I wasn’t invited.” He winked at you as you shook your head.

“Pendejo.”

“You love me. Yes, Osita. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d love to finally meet your family and be your date to the wedding.” That finally got you to smile, wrapping your arms around his leg, squeezing him tightly.

“Listen, don’t feel like you have to though, okay? I know it means you’re gonna have to take time off, and get plane tickets and-”

“Osita, I’m going with you. I think Morris would be fuckin’ relieved if I finally used some of my vacation days. Don’t worry about the tickets either.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss into the top of your head, feeling the smile of his lips against you.

“Okay. Thanks, Javi. I’m really excited for you to meet Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago.” You laughed to yourself, pausing at Javi’s silence as he looked at you in confusion. “Abe Froman? The Sausage King of Chicago? Ferris Buler’s Day Off? Please tell me you’ve seen Ferris Buler’s Day off?” You were now back to sitting upright, looking at Javi in shock.

“Osita, who the fuck is Abe Froman?” Javi chuckled at you shaking your head in humor thinking he had any idea what you were talking about.

“The Sausage King of Chicago!!!” You grabbed his shoulders and shook him before he reciprocated, grabbing you back and playfully shaking you just as hard. “Fine, it looks like we’re watching Ferris Buler’s Day Off before we leave.”

“I don’t understand how this doesn’t make you nervous.” Your leg bounced frantically as you sat outside the bench of your airport terminal, glancing over at Javi, who couldn’t have looked less bothered, flipping through the pages of one of the books he had brought to read on the plane.

“Baby, if you keep bouncing your leg like that, you’re gonna put a goddamn hole in the floor.” He laughed, tucking his book back in his bag as wrapped his large palm around your knee, trying to settle your leg back into a resting position. “I promise it’ll be fine, it’s a 3 hour flight, it’ll go by fast.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you flew everywhere, all the time. I just don’t understand how thinking about the fact that we’re gonna be in a giant tin can, thousands of feet up in the air going hundreds of miles per hour, at the mercy of a dude who you just hope knows how to fly you to your destination doesn’t make you feel like you’re gonna shit your pants.” Javi draped his forearm across your lap, keeping both legs from bouncing as the leg he had left uncovered had quickly begun tapping against the tile floor.

Now boarding flight 1605 to Chicago, Illinois. Passengers, please have your boarding passes ready.

“Oh shit. Okay. I guess that means we’re getting on this metal death trap. Do you have our boarding passes? They’re in your bag right? You have all our-” Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence as he cusped your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

“I have it all. I promise it’ll be okay. C’mon, Osita.” He smiled, interlocking his hand with yours as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking you towards the gate.

Javi was thankful for both your sakes that it didn’t take long to board your flight, offering to suffer in the middle seat, hoping that letting you look out the tiny window of the plane would potentially ease some of your horrendous flying anxiety. Knowing you, it wasn’t a shock to Javi to find out that the thing that made you most stressed about flying is that you had absolutely no control over what was happening, which, to be fair, he couldn’t totally blame you for. As you had been waiting, you had been listening to your Walkman, putting an excessive number of CDs in Javi’s bag, not sure which one was going to make you feel the safest in the soda can you were about to take flight in. You had settled on listening to the Beatles Greatest Hits, hoping that blasting the familiar songs through your headphones would at least bring you a little comfort. Javi’s hand never left your leg, tracing small circles against your jeans as he thumbed through the pages of his book. Your music was loud enough that you hadn’t heard the flight attendants make the announcement that you were about to begin takeoff, so the sudden movement of the plane down the runway had you death gripping around Javi’s forearm and scrunching your eyes closed. Without saying a word, he took one of his hands and intertwined it with yours rubbing his thumb across your soft skin. You had no interest in reciprocating Javi’s gentle touch, you were grasping on to his hand so hard, he was convinced you were trying to break a bone. You spent the entire flight with your eyes closed and holding on to Javi, finally feeling like you could breathe again once you had landed, and Javi finally feeling the circulation of his blood flow coming back to his hand.

After picking up your bags, you were able to quickly hail down a taxi, insisting to your parents that if they were going to let you stay for the weekend, you weren’t going to make them drive all the way out to the airport to pick you up. They had reluctantly agreed, and you couldn’t have been more thankful, needing the extra 45 minutes in the cab to try and calm your nerves before facing your family for the first time in 9 months. Although Javi had tried to give you your space on the plane, he could sense the stress in the cab ride to your family home was of a much more intense and gut wrenching caliber than on your flight. “You doing okay, hermosa?” he asked softly, leaning over to press a kiss into your shoulder as you stared out the window at the skyline.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay.” You replied, Javi less than convinced by your response. Trying to think of anything to help ease your mind, he looked out at the city from his own window before turning back to you.

“What’s your favorite place to go downtown?” He asked, squeezing your hand, giving you a look that said I know you don’t believe it, but I promise it’s going to be okay.

You smiled back at him, nodding at his question as if to thank him for bringing up something to distract you on your drive. “Chicago Stadium where the Blackhawks used to play. They tore it down a few years ago to build a new arena, but I have lots of memories of going to watch games there with my brothers and dad as a kid. I always really liked going to the Shedd Aquarium, too. Well, after I found out that you weren’t allowed to feed your younger sister to the sharks when your parents weren’t looking, despite what my brothers told me.” The both of you laughed, the drive passing quickly as you shared more stories of the happy memories of your life long before Laredo.

A strange feeling washed over you as you pulled down the familiar street of your childhood home. The quiet suburban road was lined with tall trees, their leaves painted deep red and orange, gently falling in the crisp October wind. The homes were rich with charm and character, neatly placed along the sidewalk, mentally counting down how many left there were to pass until you finally arrived at yours. It was an eerie feeling pulling up to the last house on Coachman Drive, wondering to yourself how on the outside, it looked like a day hadn’t passed since you’d lived there, yet on the inside, everything had been turned upside down.

“Fuck, it’s cold. Is it always this fuckin’ cold here?” Javi shivered as he pulled your suitcases out of the trunk of the cab, the two of you beginning your journey up the pathway to your front door.

“I forget you’ve been spoiled with warm weather your entire life.” You laughed, watching Javi already struggle with the stark change in temperature. “It’s only 55 degrees, it’s not even that bad! Remind me that if we come back in the winter, I’m gonna need to get you an Alaskan grade snowsuit, cause you are not gonna be happy with how cold it really gets.” You paused as the two of you reached the front door, taking one last deep breath in as you placed your hand on the cold metal of the handle, almost as if you were bracing yourself for the last moment of separation you had between you and your past.

“Hey.” Javi placed his hand over yours. “It’s gonna be okay. I love you.” He looked down at you, giving a reassuring nod as you mustered up the best smile you could, twisting the handle of the door as you stepped in through the doorway.

“Hey, it’s me! Anyone home?” You shouted into the entryway, looking up the stairs and into the living room for any signs of your family. “Hello?” You looked at Javi and shrugged as you kicked your shoes off by the door, walking deeper into the home. Just as you were about to turn the corner into the dining room, you felt two hands wrap around your shoulders from behind, quickly shifting to put you in a headlock.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

‘David, you asshole, let me go!” You squirmed in your brother’s grasp, sharply jabbing him in the stomach making him grunt and release you.

“C’mon, Cubby, that’s no way to say hello to your favorite brother that you missed oh so much.” He teased, playfully punching at you.

“Bold of you to assume that you’re my favorite, or that I missed you.” You rolled your eyes at David before smiling and pulling him in for a hug, shaking each other in your tight squeeze.

“AUNTIE BEAR!” A little voice shrieked from down the hallway, tiny feet patterning against the tile floor as a small body came barreling towards you, smiling at the sweet nicknames from your family you had missed so dearly.

“Olivia come here, sweetie!” You crouched down extending your arms to your niece, scooping her up and spinning her. “Oh I missed you so much, cutie patootie! How’s first grade? Are you being a good role model for your classmates?”

“Yes, Auntie Bear, I promise! I was Star of the Week last week in my class!” Olivia’s little voice giggled as you pecked her with kisses before setting her back down. “Tell her Daddy, tell her how I was star of the week!” She beamed as Charlie peeked down the hallway, grinning at you as you ran into him for a hug.

“Hey, Bear Cub. It’s good to see you. Missed havin’ you around.” Charlie smiled at you as he ruffled the hair on your head, taking a much gentler approach to his greeting than your other brother.

“Oh honey is that you? Greg! Turn off the damn game, your daughter is here!” You could hear your mom rushing out of the family room, laughing as she barricaded through your brothers, squeezing you in her grasp. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m so happy you’re here. We’ve missed you so much. I was just telling- GREG! I SWEAR. HOCKEY WILL STILL BE ON LATER, YOUR LITERAL CHILD IS STANDING AT THE DOOR.”

“Jesus, woman, I’m coming! I heard you the first time, I’m trying not to throw out my goddamn back getting out of my chair!” You dad sauntered down the hallway, grumbling to himself. “Hey, kiddo.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulder, rubbing a noogie in your arm. “Missed you, bud.”

“I missed all of you guys too.” You smiled out looking at your family, the ache in your chest starting to ease, replaced by a familiar comfort of the chaos being surrounded by the people you loved.

“Who’s that guy?” Olivia pointed at Javi, who was looking very overwhelmed by the whirlwind greeting that had just taken place. You looked back at him, reaching out to grab his hand, giving him an apologetic look that you had completely forgotten to introduce him in the rapid fire reunion that had occurred.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Everyone, this is Javi!” You gestured at him as you began to roll call the family member surrounding you. “Javi, these are my brothers, David and Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.” Javi outstretched his arm, shaking both your brother’s hands, the two nodding back.

“Likewise, Jav. Heard a lot about ya.” Charlie smiled, releasing his hand from Javi’s to give him a pat on the shoulder.

“And these are my mom and dad.” You gestured over to the older couple standing in front of you as Javi stepped forward, hand open and ready to shake.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs.-”

“Oh please.” Your mom swatted at Javi before pulling him in for a hug. “Pam and Greg will do just fine. It’s very nice to meet you, Javi. We’ve heard so much about you. We’re thrilled that you could come, we have been just dying to finally meet you!”

“That’s very kind of you. It’s great to finally meet all of you, too. Thank you so much for letting me stay.” Javi smiled at your parents, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as he stepped back closer to you after saying hello.

“Oh he is so polite! And handsome honey, oh my god!” Your mom more than whispered as she leaned over towards you.

“I heard that, Pam.” Your dad groaned, making the two of you laugh.

“Excuse me?” Olivia sassed, looking at you with her arms crossed over her chest, making you laugh at how witty she already was at just 6 years old.

“Sorry sweetie, how could I forget? Jav, this is my niece, Olivia.” Javi crouched down to Olivia’s level, holding out his hand for a high-five, Olivia quickly using all her might to give him one back.

“Oh man, you’re strong!” He laughed, pretending to shake out his hand in pain from Olivia’s forceful high-five. “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia. Your aunt talks about you all the time.” Javi smiled at you before standing back up.

“It’s ‘cause she’s my favorite aunt, even though she’s my only aunt. It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Javi.”

“Wait, I just realized, where are Natalie and Brianna?” You looked at Charlie, puzzled by where his wife and your other niece were. Charlie chuckled as he scooped Olivia back up into his arms, making his way towards the door to put on his shoes.

“Well considering that Natalie is almost 8 months pregnant and exhausted and we have a 3 year old who needs to sleep, they’re still both at home. They’ll be at the wedding tomorrow, though. And speaking of which, Little Miss, it is already wayyy past your bedtime. I told you we could stay until Auntie Bear got home, and then we’d have to go. Give her one last kiss and you’ll see her tomorrow, okay?” Charlie held Olivia up to your cheek, letting her give you a kiss before a yawn escaped from her pouty face.

“Daddy can’t we stay just a little bit longer, pleaseeee?” Olivia whined, giving her dad her best puppy eyes.

“Yeah, c’mon Charlie, just a little bit longer? Pleaseeee?” You laughed as your face mirrored Olivia’s, not taking Charlie very long to give in to your request.

“Fine. Until the end of the game and then we have to go. No if’s, and’s or but’s, missy.”

“… Butts.” David snickered to himself as you rolled your eyes.

“You are worse than a literal six year old, I swear, David. Thank you, Charlie. Let us just go put our stuff away and then we’ll be back down, okay?” You smiled at your family as you nudged Javi to grab his bag and follow you upstairs.

"I gotta grab something from my room, too. Here, I’ll help you take up your guys' stuff.” David smiled, looking back at your family, giving them a reassuring nod before grabbing one of the bags by your feet as the three of you made your way up the stairs to the second level. As you got to the top of the staircase, you paused, taking a deep breath as Javi and David continued down the hallway. “So Cubby, how’s it been with-” He turned around, now realizing you were no longer following along, staring blankly at the first bedroom down the hall. The joy you had just felt from your greeting now draining from your body, leaving you feeling numb.

Patrick’s room.

“I knew this was gonna fucking happen. Cubby. Listen to me.” David retracted his steps, now standing in front of you, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at him, an unusually stern and serious look growing across his face. “You gotta let it go. You don’t have to forget, but you can’t be mad about it anymore, dude. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Okay, that’s not true, it’s the Army’s fault, those fuckers, but there’s nothing more that you could have done. He’d beat the shit out of you if he knew how mad at yourself you still were. Let it go.” You and David weren’t one for ever being sentimental with each other. Hell, before Patrick died, the closest sentiment you had ever given each other was refraining to not wrestle the other to the ground for the entire day. That’s why when David wrapped his arms around you for a hug, a real hug, you could feel something inside you shift, like the tiniest bit of guilt had begun to lift off your shoulders, that there was a truth to his words that you alone weren’t the one to blame. “Okay, okay, that’s long enough, the hug can end now.” David stuck out his tongue before taking his arms and shoving you away, breaking your somber stare, turning it into smiles.

“Thanks, David. You didn’t really need anything from up here, did you?” You half smirked at him, trying not to let him know how much his pep talk had meant to you.

“Of course I didn’t, idiot. I mean it, Cubby. Don’t take too long up here, lovebirds. Remember, we share a thin ass wall and I don’t need to hear you two going at it all night.” He punched your arm before passing by Javi, giving him a Pat on the back before making his way back downstairs.

“Jesus, David!” You groaned, covering your face over your hands as you looked back up at Javi. “I told you this house was a shitshow, and this is down a brother.” You gestured towards Patrick’s door before grabbing the rest of your bags and heading down the hallway to your old bedroom. Javi laughed, following behind you.

“Your family’s funny as hell. I’ve been here 20 minutes and can already understand why the iguana only made it a day.” He nudged you as you opened the door to your bedroom, pausing a moment before his next question.

“Yeah, they’re funny, but this is them on their best behavior. I called my mom and practically had to beg her to make sure no one did anything too embarrassing, and this is still what we get.” You grunted as you swung your suitcase up onto your bed, looking around to find your room in the exact same state it was before you had moved out and left for college. To be quite honest, Javi wasn’t shocked to find that your childhood bedroom probably could have been mistaken for one of your brothers- your dark blue walls covered in Chicago Blackhawks pictures and pennants, a giant Star Wars poster next to your dresser, medals and trophies of little golden hockey players lining your shelves. As he walked over to a desk in the corner of the room, he saw dozens of old photos, mostly of you and your family, but a few of just you as a kid with your wide, toothy grin, drowning in whatever hockey jersey you had gotten that season. Javi laughed to himself, holding up one of a tiny you, beaming as you raised a trophy above your head, missing nearly half your teeth, your face red and sweaty as you sat on top of who looked to be your dad’s shoulders. Sneaking up behind him you wrapped your arms around Javi’s stomach, pressing your chest into his back now giggling at the photo he was holding. “That was the first year my parents let me play with my brothers. I was so determined all season long to score a goal all season. First and only one was the one that won our team the championship that year. It’s all been downhill since then.”

“God, you were fuckin’ cute. Our kids better look like you.” He turned around resting his hands on your hips as you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re very sweet, but let’s hope we can spare them that pain. I will be very disappointed if they don’t have your adorable puppy dog eyes, although, if that’s the case, I’m gonna have to get really good at learning how to say no so I don’t give into their cuteness.” Javi shook his head, caging his chest against yours as he pulled you in tight. “Thank you, Javi.” You whispered against the soft fabric of his shirt, the familiar scent of his sweet and spicy cologne filling your nostrils as you leaned your head on his body.

“For what, Osita?” He asked, taking one of his hands as he palmed the back of your head, running his hands through the ends of your hair.

“I don’t know, I just- I know my family is a lot, and you flew with me all the way from Texas just to meet them, and- shit, on top of that, I’m dealing you the tragically dead brother card, and you’ve just been so great and understanding. So just- thank you, is what I’m trying to say. Thank you for all of this.” You took in a deep breath, squeezing yourself tighter against Javi’s chest.

“Hey.” He dragged his hand from the back of your head to your cheek, his fingers feathering over your skin. “I appreciate it, but you don’t need to thank me for anything. I love you. I’d do anything for you, Hermosa. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, even the parts of it that hurt.” Javi dragged his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears that had started falling, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Anything? You’d eat a pile of dog shit for me?” You tried to laugh through your tears, making Javi’s eyes roll.

“Anything within reason, you idiot. You’re not any better than David.”

“Hey, you take that back, that’s a low blow, even for you Javier Peña.” The two of you were both laughing, taking one last deep breath to press up on your tiptoes to kiss Javi before opening up your suitcase to dig out some of the pajamas bottoms you had packed. Stripping out of your jeans, you shuffled through your closet, pulling out a well worn Blackhawks crewneck and slipping it on before sitting down on the bed to watch Javi rummage through his own suitcase.

“You sure it’s okay if I change? I wanna make a good impression on your parents.” He huffed, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt he had packed.

“Did you meet my family? Javi, to be completely honest with you, I am shocked my dad even had the decency to put pants on before he came out to say hi to us. You’re more than welcome to keep on what you have on, but you don’t have to worry about making a good impression. I promise, they really like you. My parents never told Paul to call them Pam and Greg in the whole 3 years we dated. Plus, I also very selfishly want to see you in those gray sweatpants.” You smirked as Javi undid his belt, pushing his jeans to the floor before grabbing his sweatpants and shuffling them on, his shirt quickly following suit.

“I don’t understand what it is with you and these fucking sweatpants.” He laughed, pulling you up to stand from the edge of the bed as you outstretched your arms toward him.

“You already know exactly why, Javi. And if we weren’t trying to share this tiny bed and my parents and David weren’t on either side of these paper thin walls, you best believe I would be showing you just how much I appreciate them. Thank God Kelly’s wedding is far enough away and everyone likes to drink enough to get hotel rooms for tomorrow.” You reached down, palming Javi’s dick in his sweatpants, making him bite down on his lip before taking his hand and grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t…” He warned, trying his best to be stern, even though you could clearly tell he wasn’t that upset by your gesture.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this coming from the man who fucked me in his bathroom on his birthday, surrounded by all of his closest friends and family? Two can play at that game, baby.” You winked, giving his crotch one more squeeze before running out of the bedroom as Javi adjusted himself, following behind you down the hallway.

…….

“Your fucking team is kicking our ass.” You dad grumbled as you and Javi entered the family room, where your parents, brothers and niece were gathered on the couch, surrounding the TV.

“GREG! Your granddaughter is right there!” Your mom slapped your dad across the couch as he held up his arms in defense.

“They are, Pam!” Your dad retorted, angrily pointing at the screen, playing the Blackhawks vs. Dallas Stars game, the Blackhawks down by 2 with only 5 minutes left.

“It’s okay.” Olivia chimed in, peeking up from the drawing she was working on. “Daddy said that swearing during hockey doesn’t count, but Daddy says I can’t tell Mommy that.”

“Nice parenting, Charlie.” Your mom turned to the opposite side of the couch, now slapping your brother.

“Okay, listen, I will root for Dallas if they’re playing anyone else but the Hawks. They are not my team, they just happen to be the only hockey team in a thousand mile radius since Texas is a hockey wasteland. Blame him, not me.” You pointed at Javi, giving him a playful shove as you both sat down next to Olivia on the floor.

“I don’t know, I really thought my team was the Red Wings, you guys really like them too, right?” Javi chuckled, trying to inflict as much sarcasm as possible to make sure his joke stuck. Considering your family spoke sarcasm fluently, Javi was relieved to find your family laughing to themselves, your dad reaching down from the couch to put a hand on Javi’s shoulder, shaking it in delight.

“Good man, Javi. She’s taught ya well. I was worried that- Oh motherfucker, you call that a penalty?!” Greg screamed at the TV, you, David and Charlie all following suit.

“GREG! LANGUAGE!”

“SORRY!”

It was now your mom’s turn to reach down and touch Javi’s shoulder as she mumbled in his ear. “I am so sorry about them. She’s no better than the boys, I’m afraid. I swear, sometimes she was the hardest to raise because she was always trying to prove a point to her brothers. She is a tough cookie though, I’ll give her that. Sorry if you’ve got your hands full with her.” Your mom laughed, patting Javi’s back.

“I can definitely see where she gets it from. She’s stubborn as hell, I’ll give her that, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as smart and determined as her.” He looked over at you, beaming with pride as you shouted with your brothers at the TV before turning back to Pam. “I love that about her.”

You turned your head back around to see Javi smiling at you, and your mom smiling at Javi, giving them a confused look as you raised an eyebrow at them. “Are you two talking about me?”

“Maybe.” Javi smirked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leaned you over to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss into your forehead. Suddenly, you felt a little hand tapping on your leg, looking over to see Olivia holding several books in your direction.

“Auntie Bear, will you read me a book before I have to go? You’re better at the voices than Daddy, even though he says he is.” Olivia pleaded, placing the books in your lap.

“Of course, cutie pie. Here, pick which one you want and let’s go over to the living room so we don’t have to listen to Grandpa and Uncle David and Daddy yell at the game.” The both of you giggled as you stood up, Olivia picking up a book before quickly using her free hand to grab yours as you walked across the family room. After taking a few steps, Olivia paused, whispering something into your ear before pointing back at Javi. You grinned, nodding your head, before gesturing over to him, as Olivia quickly made her way back, poking Javi on the shoulder.

“Mr. Javi, do you wanna read with us?” She asked with her toothy grin, holding the book she had chosen up in front of her. Javi was taken aback, eyes going wide, gulping as he looked back at you. He didn’t know why such a simple question had made him so nervous. Maybe it was because he knew how much you loved Olivia, or the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was make a bad impression, your family thinking he was trying to insert himself to prove that he fit in.

“Uh, I don’t know, Olivia, are you-”

“She’s the one who asked.” You smirked at him. “In her defense, she did pick out a really good book.”

“You sure?” He smiled at Olivia, now squealing with excitement as she jumped up and down, clutching her book, nodding her head frantically. “Okay, you’re gonna have to help me though, your Aunt told me that you’re a really good reader.” Javi grunted as he pushed himself off the floor, following the two of you to the living room.

“I’ve been practicing lots. Okay, Auntie Bear, you sit here, and Mr. Javi, you sit here, and I sit in the middle and hold the book.” Olivia nodded defiantly, plopping herself in the middle of the couch.

“What are we reading today, missy?” You asked, pointing down to the book Olivia was holding.

“Tacky the Penguin! Mrs. Meadows my teacher read it but it’s only good if you do the voices extra funny, okay?” Olivia glared at the both of you as she opened to the first page.

“Extra funny voices, got it. You got that, Mr. Javi?” You winked, giving him a pinch on his cheek as he shook his head, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“Got it.”

Finally noticing what was happening, Charlie elbowed both your parents, gesturing towards you and Javi sitting on one of the loveseats in the living room, Olivia happily squished between the two of you, holding out her book. The 3 of you were in hysterics, dying at the ridiculous voice Javi had attempted for one of the characters Oliva had assigned him, which she clearly had deemed to be funny enough for her liking.

“He’s a good one, huh?” Charlie smirked, your family close to tears watching the glow that had suddenly gone black 9 months ago, slowly begin to shine again with Javi by your side. Your parents looked at each other, quietly nodding to themselves.

“Yeah. He’s a good one.”

It hadn’t taken long last night for Olivia’s one read aloud request to turn into 4 more, your yawns and blinks of your heavy lids against your tired eyes growing more frequent with each page. Halfway through your last book, you and Olivia were curled up against each other, fast asleep. Letting the two of you rest, Javi had spent the rest of his night with your parents and brothers, shocked by how quick they were to treat him like he had been a part of your family for years. Javi shared about your life in Texas- how proud he was of you for all you had been through, how he couldn’t have been more thankful you had quite literally bumped into him at a time in his life he couldn’t have needed more, and just how goddamn happy you made him. In exchange, your family shared stories of your past with Javi, about the stubborn and sweet child you were and the ridiculous things you did with your brothers that didn’t surprise Javi in the slightest. Hours flew by like minutes, and already way later than he had expected to be out, Charlie had just agreed to spend the night, helping to haul his sleepy daughter up to his old bedroom, while Javi helped to haul an even sleepier you up to yours, David, on the other hand, was laughing at both of you in the background, glad that he wasn’t responsible for anyone. Your parents had very adamantly insisted that there would be plenty of coffee downstairs in the morning and for Javi to not be shy and take as much as he wanted when he woke up.

When Javi awoke to the sunrise spilling through your curtains and rustling leaves rustling in the harsh October wind, he was glad that your parents had been so persistent in making sure he got coffee. The tiny bed the two of you shared, plus the time squished in the middle seat on yesterday’s flight hadn’t done any favors for his back, finding himself already wide awake as you still laid face down, snoring into your pillow. Giving you a kiss on the shoulder and throwing on a shirt, Javi made his way downstairs to find your dad and brothers standing half awake, sipping on their own cups of coffee with the sounds of Sports Center in the background.

“Morning.” David mumbled, taking a drawn out sip of his coffee. “Mugs are up there.” He pointed up at one of the cabinets above the coffee pot for Javi as he reached up to pour himself a generous cup. “Had a feeling you would make good on the coffee offer, you striked me as an early riser.”

“Well being hunched in on a plane and trying to share a bed with a human starfish wasn’t really helping in the sleep department.” Javi mumbled, the men’s sleepy laughter filling the quiet kitchen. “Hey, listen.” Javi paused, taking a sip of his drink before speaking. “I uh- I just wanted to say thank you again for letting me stay and making me feel so welcome. I was really happy when she said that she wanted to come this weekend. I know she really misses you guys. I can see why.” The 3 nodded at Javi, soft and sympathetic smiles creeping up the corners of their cheeks. Greg set down his mug, taking a deep breath before looking up at Javi.

“Javi, I think we should be the ones thanking you. We were so worried about our Bear Cub after what happened to Patrick. She just… She wasn’t the same. I know she’s tough. To be honest, she’s probably tougher than these two assholes.” He gestured towards Charlie and David, shrugging, not seeming offended in the slightest. “All winter after she moved, even when we talked with her on the phone, you could just hear it in her voice how much she hurt. Killed us to think of how much she was beatin’ herself up over something she couldn’t have controlled. And then, right around the end of the school year, she started to sound more like herself. We couldn’t believe it. Turns out, it was right around the time she met you. Seeing her yesterday… seeing that she was the same, happy kid she used to be before all of this? Because of you? We owe ya, Javi.” Grabbing his shoulder, your dad stared at him for a moment before embracing him in a bear hug, patting him on the back.

“And now, my dad has officially only given you one less hug than he’s ever given either of us. It’s high praise.” David chuckled as Greg rolled his eyes at his comment.

“Maybe if you two weren’t such idiots, the number would be higher.”

“Fair.” Charlie and David agreed in unison, grimacing as they sipped their coffee.

“He’s being serious though, Javi. It’s been so long since we’ve seen her this happy. Thanks for takin’ care of her.” Charlie raised his mug at Javi after finishing his swig, the steam still dancing off the bitter liquid.

Javi stood for a moment, staring down into his cup, his heart beginning to race. This wasn’t how he had planned to ask the question that was now stirring at the forefront of his brain. He had wanted to do it later, to find a time before the wedding where he could talk to your dad and brothers in a much more awake and less pajamaed state than the 4 of them found themselves in now. But he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He could feel the pounding in his chest with each second that passed, palms sweating around the ceramic of his coffee mug, trying to muster up the courage and find the words he wanted to say. He took a deep inhale, his breath shaking with the long exhale that followed.

“You good, Jav?” David asked, looking back and forth between his brother and dad, confused as to why his demeanor had shifted so suddenly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, I just- shit. This- This wasn’t how I was planning on doing this…” Javi took one more long breath to compose himself, trying his best to work through the intensity of the nerves flowing through his body. “I know you said that you think I’ve made her happy. Truth is, I had really kind of given up on ever finding someone who was ever gonna make me remotely happy until I met your daughter and your guy’s sister. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’ve never met anyone like her. I still can’t figure out what she sees in me, or what the hell I ever did to deserve someone like her. I know… I know it’s fast, but I’ve never been so sure about something in my life. I’ve known since the day I met her. I know all of you mean so much to her, and I wanted to ask all of you. I love her more than anything. More than I even knew was possible. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her, to be everything she needs, if she’ll let me, cause I think we all know how goddamn stubborn she is, and she would be just fine without me. I guess…. What I’m trying to say is… I love her, would you give me your permission to ask to marry your-”

“OH MY GOD, IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS?!” Your mom shrieked as she snuck up behind the boys in the kitchen, making them all jump out of their skin as they held their hands against their chests, catching their breath from the shock she had just given them.

“JESUS, PAM.” Greg choked out, sputtering between his labored wheezes. “I’m not gonna make it to their goddamn wedding if you give me a heart attack before I even get a chance to tell the kid yes!”

Javi’s head shot up, his jaw hanging half open, trying to make sure he had really just heard what your dad had said. “Wait… did you just-”

“Of course he’s saying yes, Javi! Well even if he’s not, I’m saying yes! Oh come here!” Your mom outstretched her arms draped in her fuzzy bathrobe as she grabbed Javi in for a hug. “You’re saying yes, right Greg?” She shot a deadly look at her husband, now holding up his hands in defense.

“Yes, yes! Of course I’m saying yes, I’m not a fucking idiot! You two morons agree, right?” Your dad pointed at your brothers, now laughing to themselves as they watched Javi caught in the middle of their parents bickering.

“Welcome to the shit show, brother.” David and Charlie stood around both sides of Javi, squishing him sandwich style as David noogied his head, abruptly coming to a halt as everyone heard your sleepy voice traveling down the stairs, into the kitchen.

“What the hell are you guys yelling about so early?” You grumbled, outstretching your arms over your head as you let out a yawn. The rest of your family froze, suspiciously looking back and forth amongst each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Uh… Javi said he would let us teach him how to skate next time you guys came around, isn’t that right, Jav?” David rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, trying to elbow Javi in his side to get him to respond.

“Uh, yeah? Yeah! That’s what we were talking about. Yeah, next time we come here, I’ll try skating.” Javi replied resistantly, realizing he had never been more thankful for your barely awake state, leaving him and your family in the clear.

“Actually? That’ll be a sight to see.” You yawned again, rubbing your face over your hands, everyone else letting out a silent sigh of relief. “Is there any coffee left?”

The rest of the morning was spent preparing to leave for your cousin’s wedding, your mom insistent on the fact all of you needed plenty of time to prep before her big day. Your family quickly scarfed down breakfast before you and Javi found yourselves back in your old room, repacking your barely opened suitcase as Javi tried his best to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Ever since you had made your way downstairs this morning, your family had been acting weirder than normal, Javi included. You were trying your best to not read too much into it, but as you sat on the top of your suitcase, fighting with your zipper to get it to close and you caught Javi lovingly staring at you in the midst of your luggage battle, you knew something had to be up.

“You okay?” You grunted, finally getting your suitcase all the way closed.

“Hmmmmm?” Javi shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever day dream he was stuck in.

“You’re being… Weird. All of you guys. What are you all up to?” You interrogated, pointing a finger at Javi, scrunching your nose in frustration.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hermosa. Just excited for this wedding.” He smirked, helping you to stand as you outstretched your arms towards him, snaking his hands around your waist as you met, chest to chest.

“Really? You’re that excited for a stuffy, uptight wedding for one of my cousins you’ve never met? Nice try, Peña. I know there’s something going on, I’ll figure it out eventually.” You raised an eyebrow at him as you poked his chest, making the both of you giggle.

“Alright detective. What if I am that excited, huh? It’s been years since I’ve been to a wedding, and it’s the first one I’ve ever gone to with you. Plus, I’ve never seen you all dressed up before. You always look fucking gorgeous, but fuck, I’m really looking forward to whatever you’re wearing tonight.” He hid his head in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along your skin, his hot breath dancing around your ear. “Looking even more forward to taking it off later.”

“You’re a fucking menace, Jesus Christ, Javi.” You fought with everything in you to push him away, finding yourself dangerously close to pouncing on him right here in your childhood bedroom. “Believe me, I am too. I can’t even look at you or you’re gonna make me lose my goddamn mind. Get your sexy ass downstairs so we can get to this hotel.”

“Yes ma’am.” He winked, giving your ass one more good squeeze before grabbing his bag and heading downstairs.

“Ridiculous…” You mumbled to yourself, lugging your suitcase behind him.

While you would have loved Javi’s first trip to Chicago to be one filled with sightseeing and visiting your favorite hidden gems downtown, Kelly’s packed and extravagant wedding itinerary left you with very little time to do anything besides check into your hotel room and get ready before her ceremony. You had always gotten along with Kelly- she was your age, your families were close, and it was easy to bond over playing pranks and torturing your brothers together. For as well as the two of you got along, you and Kelly definitely had different tastes when it came to pretty much everything. When you had gotten her invitation, it wasn’t much of a shock to find out that she was having her reception at the Drake, one of the most upscale and gaudy hotels in all of downtown Chicago, preceded by a ceremony at St. Peter’s. Kelly was one for, well, extravagance, to say the least.

Given your family’s inability to be on time for anything, you had found yourselves leaving your house much later than expected, and you and Javi rushed to check in so you had enough time to get ready for a 2 o’clock ceremony. As much as you and Javi both wanted to, you both had enough sensibility to know there wasn’t even close to enough time even for a quickie, having to share a speed shower with no funny business before Javi left you in the bathroom to finish getting your hair and makeup done. He would have given anything to even just stay and watch you get ready, as it had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, but your brothers and dad had roped him into getting drinks with them at the hotel bar while the girls finished up in their rooms.

The invitation for Kelly’s wedding had very specifically said that this was a black tie only event, which again, didn’t come as much of a surprise to you, but that did mean you had made one too many trips to the mall in the past month to try and find something acceptable enough for her formal request. You had settled on a black satin midi dress that seemed to tightly hug your curves in all the right places, with a slit that creeped just a touch past appropriate up your thigh. Finally finished with your hair and makeup, you slipped yourself into the dress, fighting to get your zipper all the way up your back without Javi’s help. As much as you hated them, your mom had insisted on the fact that you had be an adult about it and wear heels, picking a strappy black pair to match your dress, you had gone with shoes with the most reasonable height you could get away with. You touched up your hair and makeup before stepping back to give yourself a once over in the mirror before heading downstairs.

Shit, you clean up pretty damn good.

You were surprised to find yourself the last of your family members to meet in the hotel lobby, everyone else already crowding around the bar, chatting away as they waited for you before cramming into the car to drive over to the ceremony. Of course David was the first one to notice you as you walked up to join the group, not letting any opportunity to give you shit pass him by.

“Well damn, how many people on the crisis team did you have up there to make you look like a half presentable human being?” David snickered as you slapped his chest with your purse.

“That’s funny, I didn’t know this was a circus sponsored event, I’m surprised that Kelly would want to invite a clown to her wedding, asshole.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at David as the rest of your family turned around to greet you.

Javi immediately perked up as he heard your voice, breaking from the conversation he was having with Charlie, whipping his head in your direction. As soon as his eyes met you, his jaw just about dropped to the floor, raising a hand to his face, covering his mouth hanging open agape. You were no better, looking through the crowd at Javi to find him not just dressed in a suit, but a tuxedo, complete with a black bowtie and tight suit jacket that just about brought you to your damn knees. The two of you stood frozen as your family began to move around you, collectively making your way to the doors of the lobby to leave, your mom grabbing your arm to tell you something about how you looked nice and that we needed to go, but with the way you found yourself gawking at Javi, you couldn’t have really told you a single word that she had said. The two of you found yourself at the back of the crowd as Javi walked towards you, his tongue darting out of his mouth as he licked his lower lip, you biting down on yours, wondering how the hell he had gotten even more handsome as he approached you.

“Fuck me, Osita…” He rasped, his eyes glancing up and down the length of your body before leaning in for a gentle kiss. “Jesus Christ, you look fucking… Fuck, you look fucking stunning.” He reached down to interlock his hand with yours as the two of you began following behind your family.

“Me?! Javi what the fuck, since when were you gonna tell me that you owned a goddamn tux? Oh. My. God.” You shook your head, barely able to peel your eyes off Javi and how good he looked.

“When I started working as an attaché for the DEA, they made me get one in case I had any bullshit, ass-kissing dinner parties I had to go to. Only had to wear it twice, but figured now would be another good time to break it out.” He smirked, giving him a nudge as you watched him peek over his shoulder to get a better look at the way your dress hugged against your ass, taking a deep breath as the two of you made your way outside to join your family at the car. “Goddamn, Hermosa, I’m really gonna have to be on my best behavior tonight, aren’t I?”

“Not if anyone catches you.” You winked as you ducked your head into the car, squishing yourself between your brothers to find a seat.

Pulling up to the church just in time, your family tucked into one of the back pews, politely chatting with friends and family members until the processional music had begun, and the wedding party had begun making its way down the aisle. You couldn’t help but bite down on your lip and grin as you watched Kelly make her way through the church in her white, flowy gown, imagining what it would be like for it to be you in her place, walking to meet Javi, waiting there for you to finally be his wife. As you watched, Javi wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as his fingertips dug gently into your hips, as if to say “Soon, I promise”.

The joy of the moment quickly came to a halt as Kelly met her future husband Mark at the altar and you were hit by the reality of the fact that you were about to have to sit through a full Catholic Mass. Your family had never been religious, your parents often claiming if God was real, he wouldn’t have cursed them with the hell on earth that was raising you and your brothers. Truth be told, Kelly wasn’t really either, but your Uncle Matt, Kelly’s Dad, always loved to try and prove he was just a little bit better than the rest of his family, so even if your cousins were only “Christmas Mass Catholics”, of course he was going to find the biggest, most beautiful church downtown for his daughter to get married in. 15 minutes into the ceremony, you were already beyond lost, wondering why you had already stood up and sat down 4 different types, looking over at Javi, making him laugh as you grimaced your face at the priest who was chanting some sing-songy prayer you couldn’t understand. All of a sudden, you were following Javi and the rest of the church as they got down to kneel, giving him a confused look as to how he seemed to know it was coming next.

“I didn’t think you were religious?” You whispered into his ear, trying to keep your eyes facing forward at the altar.

“I’m not.” He chuckled quietly to himself before quietly replying.

“Then why does it look like you know what the hell you're doing?” You mumbled, both pulling out a book from the shelf on the back of the pews, mimicking the crowd around you.

“Because my parents were, and I still got dragged to church with them every Sunday until I left for college. Never really believed this shit then, definitely didn’t after I left for Colombia.” Javi shrugged, helping you back up to stand. “You’re not, are you? I’m gonna assume no, considering how lost you’ve looked the past 20 minutes.” He glanced down at you, smirking.

“Yeah, that would be a big, fat no.” The two of you snickered quietly, looking over to see a frail older lady with wiry silver hair now shushing you and Javi with a menacing glare on her face. Both of you grimaced, trying to keep from bursting into laughter as you turned away. “So you wouldn’t wanna get married in a Church?” You sighed, realizing you were back to kneeling again.

“No, not at all.” Javi grunted as he got down to join you, resting his forearms against the back of the pew as he leaned over to you, his hot breath hitting your neck. “Although… I do always like seeing you on your knees.”

“Javi!” You reached over, swatting him in the stomach, perhaps a little too loudly, as the same elderly woman who had shushed you a few moments ago was now giving you both the death glare. This time you couldn’t help but keep your laughter uncontained, resting your heads against each other as you giggled over the terrible chanting voices in the background.

You couldn’t have been more thankful that the rest of the ceremony seemed to go by quickly, happily finding yourself on your second drink as cocktail hour back at the reception was underway. Your little bit of liquid courage was enough to get you through the never ending parade of “Hellos”, “Is this your boyfriend?” And sympathetic “How are you doing since Patrick passed?” From your friends and family, Javi’s hand squeezed tightly in yours, never leaving your side, unless you asked him to go get you another drink to help you through the relentless interrogations.

With the reception close to staring, you and Javi went to go find your table, relieved to have a moment of peace as you found no one else had come to sit down yet, finally giving you two a moment alone. “You doing okay, Osita?” Javi asked, rubbing his hand along your back as you finished off the rest of your gin and tonic, opting for something stronger than beer to get you through the night. “Yeah, only because it seems like the bartender is making these extra strong.” You laughed, swirling around the melted ice in your glass. “I’m okay because I have you with me.” You giggled, Javi laughing along with you, already able to tell that you were a little tipsy as you stood up out of your chair. “And on that cute note, I’m gonna go run to the bathroom really quick before all this starts. I love you, handsome.” You pressed a quick kiss into his cheek as you wandered through the crowd, Javi happily taking an extra long look at the way your ass swayed in your dress as you moved.

“Hi Mr. Javi!” A little voice squeaked, tugging on the sleeve of Javi’s suit jacket.

“Hey, Olivia!” Javi smiled, looking over to see both of your nieces and your brother standing next to him.

“You know where Bear Cub went?” Charlie asked, looking around the crowd, distress spreading across his face as he held Brianna, your 3 year old niece, crying in his arms.

“Bathroom, why?” Javi asked, sensing the desperation in your brother’s tone as he rocked his sobbing daughter, Olivia already comfortably climbing up into the seat next to Javi after pulling the coloring book and crayons out of the bag Charlie had strapped over his shoulder.

“Shit… Look, I’m sorry to do this man, do you mind watching Olivia until she comes back?”

“Brianna had an accident.” Olivia chimed in nonchalantly, picking up a pink crayon to color in one of the balloons she was working on in her coloring book. “She’s got pee all in her underwear.”

Javi tried his best not to laugh, nodding to Charlie as your brother rushed off with Brianna. “What are you working on?” Javi looked over at Olivia, gesturing to the page she was very intensely focused on coloring.

“It’s a picture of a puppy with balloons, but I’m making them pink and blue because I like pink and Auntie Bear likes blue. Here, you color this one.” She assertively shoved the coloring book in between her and Javi, Javi picking up a gray crayon from the box to start coloring the elephant Olivia had demanded he worked on. “Do you love Auntie Bear?” Olivia prodded, not even bothering to look up from the puppy she was tracing with her brown crayon. Javi froze for a moment, taken aback by the 6 year old’s bluntness and curiosity.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I love your Aunt a lot.” Javi smiled at Olivia as the two of them exchanged crayons.

“So why haven’t you married her like Kelly and Mr. Mark yet? Isn’t that what grownups do when they love each other?” Javi took a sip of his drink, not realizing he was going to have to justify his life choices to your niece over a coloring book.

“Well yeah, it’s what a lot of grownups do, I guess. I want to marry her, I just haven’t asked her yet.” Javi took a deep breath, wondering how a first grader was prying this information out of him.

“Well why haven’t you done it yet?” Olivia sassed, crossing her little arms over her chest as she looked at Javi.

“Well, it’s not that simple.” Javi answered, shaking his head as he continued coloring the picture in front of him.

“It seems like it is. If you ask her I know Auntie Bear will say yes. She loves you a lot more than Mr. Paul. She never smiled around him and she always smiles when she’s with you.” Javi sighed, setting down his crayon to look at Olivia.

“Well she makes me smile a lot, too. Don’t worry, I’m gonna ask her soon.”

“Really?!” Olivia squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. “And then you’ll be Uncle Javi instead of Mr. Javi?!”

Javi grinned, a soft smile creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?”

“What are you two cuties talking about, huh?” Javi unaware of your presence behind him, making him shoot up as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Well Mr. Javi and I were coloring and he said that pretty soon he’s gonna be Uncle Javi and that he’s gonna-”

“Hey, you guys! Who colored that ugly ass elephant?” David joked as the rest of your family joined you, Javi and Olivia at your table, Javi absolutely relieved by your brother’s insult of his poor art skills to stop Olivia from going any further. You couldn’t help but feel heat flush over your face, knowing exactly what those two had been talking about, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi a little nudge. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. Javi’s pink cheeks and flustered face told you everything you needed to know. Javier Peña was going to propose to you. The only question that left you with was when, and where.

If there was one thing you knew about your family, it was they were always ready for a good time, and that was without an open bar. It wasn’t long before everyone at your table (besides your pregnant sister in law and nieces, although Olivia perhaps had one too many juices) were several drinks in, wanting to make the most of Kelly’s wedding. From the moment the dance floor opened, everyone was out, singing and dancing, including Javi, who you had dragged on to the dance floor with you, even though it didn’t take much convincing to do so after the shots of Fireball your brothers had wrangled him into taking. There really weren’t words to describe the feeling you had watching Javi with your family. Although his presence could ever replace Patrick’s, there was something about the way Javi had come into your life and healed a piece of you that had been missing, aching to be filled by the love of someone who you cared for so deeply. Not only had he filled that void for you, but watching him laugh and dance with your family made you feel like he seemed to ease some of their pain too. You watched your family bond with Javi quicker in the past two days than they did with Paul in 3 years. It was like they knew just how special he was, just how much he had come into your life and changed it for the better. There was never a doubt in your mind, but if this trip had done anything, it had solidified for you that Javier Peña was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

The night had flown by, dancing and screaming to the music on the dance floor, now completely losing count of how many drinks deep you were. At some point, Javi had taken off both his suit jacket and bow tie, his dress shirt now undone 4 buttons deep, while your heels your mom had insisted you wore were long gone at your table hours ago. As the music on the dance floor began to shift, slowing its pace to “At Last” by Etta James, Javi outstretched his arm toward you, pulling you in towards his chest, wrapping his large palms around your waist, resting dangerously close to the curve of your ass. You leaned your head against him, your face resting between the fabric of his dress shirt and his exposed skin as the both of you swayed back and forth along to the syrupy melody of the song. Javi peeked over his shoulder, looking at Kelly and her now husband, hand in hand on the dance floor, grinning to himself as he spoke down to you.

“I can’t wait for that to be us.” He beamed, nudging you in Mark and Kelly’s direction, your drunken cheeks growing even more pink than they already were from your countless gin and tonics. “I’m not even kidding, Osita. I’d marry you tomorrow, but I got a plan because you deserve everything and I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” You bit down on your tongue, raising an eyebrow at Javi’s drunken smirk as you draped your arms around his neck.

“A plan, huh? And what plan would that be, Jav?” You giggled as he pecked a few kisses at your cheek.

“I’m drunk, but I can keep a secret. I know you hate surprises, but it’s gonna be a surprise okay?”

“I mean, if it has to be, I guess that’s fine, I just wanna- JAVIIII!” You shrieked as he tightened his grip around your waist, lifting you off the floor and twirling you in a circle as the song came to a close. “You are crazy!” You laughed, playfully punching him as he set you down

“Crazy for you.” He winked, shaking you in his grasp.

“Okay, that was so cheesy. Like extra cheese on mac and cheese, cheesy. Even for how drunk we both are. You’re lucky you’re a hot piece of ass, Javier Peña.” You giggled, grabbing a quick squeeze of his butt, your laughter slowly turning into a drunkenly horny desire as you saw Javi’s eyes light up and jaw go slack as he just about damn near undressed you with his eyes in the middle of the dance floor.

“Me? Osita, I don’t think you understand. You are the most beautiful, sexy woman I have ever fuckin’ seen. I’m not even kidding. I swear to God. I had random ass guys at bar asking if I had seen the hot girl in the tight black dress, immediately pointing to you, and you know what I fuckin’ told them? I said that’s my fucking wife, so you can fuck right off, she’s all mine.”

“Well that’s very sweet of you except for the fact that I am not your wife, Jav.” You crossed your arms, popping out your hip as you sassed him. He shook his head before stepping into you, holding both of his hands around your face as you looked up at him, his slight frown quickly turning into a mischievous grin.

“Yeah… but you’re fuckin’ gonna be.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe it was the one too many drinks you had in your system, maybe it was something in the air at the wedding, maybe it was the fact that even in both your drunken states, when you looked at each other, you knew that there was no one else in the world you wanted by your side for the rest of your life besides each other, but the kiss you found yourself tangled in was like one you’d never felt before. Something about the deep and intense passion mixed with the slow and gentle press of Javi’s whisky stained lips against yours had your heart pounding in your chest, the world seeming to stop around you. You would have kissed him like this forever- you didn’t even care if anyone stared as the two of you found yourselves intertwined in the middle of the dance floor. The only thing that was stopping you was the unison of your rasped whispers as your lips parted.

“You wanna go back up to the room?”

The both of you burst out laughing at the way your words synced, taking a few moments to compose yourselves from your hysterics as Javi looked out into the crowd at your parents and brothers.

“You sure your family won’t care?” Javi gestured over to the group, surrounding David as he ripped his tie off his neck, flinging in circles over his head.

“Javi, I would be shocked if they even knew what planet they’re on right now. C’mon, let’s go.” The grin on your face began to grow as you picked up your heels from your chair, tossing Javi his jacket and bow tie before grabbing him by the hand and pulling him out the door.

The two of you found yourselves practically sprinting down the hallway of the hotel, Javi chasing behind you as you reached the elevator. If it wasn’t for the older couple that had been standing in front of you the way up to your floor, you and Javi gave each other a playful look as if to say, you’d know I’d fuck you right here in this elevator. As you reached your floor, you followed behind Javi as he stepped out of the elevator, immediately jumping on his back, clinging to him like a Koala, trying to wrap around the width of his broadness.

“What the hell are you doing, Osita?” He laughed as he hiked you further up on to his back, beginning to carry you down the hallway towards your room.

“My feet hurt! And honestly I just kind of wanted to, it looked fun. I bet I could carry you if I really, reallyyyyy tried.” You were nothing but smiles and giggles as you ruffled Javi’s dark curls, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, maybe let’s not try that one tonight, okay, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled as he reached into his pocket for the room key, angrily fumbling with it as couldn’t get the door to unlock. “Why won’t it fucking work? Doesn’t this door know I need to get inside it so I can fuck my hot future wife?”

“I don’t think the door is really concerned about your wants and needs, Javi. Oh, that’s why you idiot, it’s upside down! Flip it around!” You swatted at Javi’s arm, noticing how he was trying to insert the card. With a reluctant groan, he flipped it around, bracing himself for the “I told you so’s” as the door immediately opened upon your suggestion.

“Okay, listen… I won’t say it… But just know… I’m thinking it.”

“Alright, get off you dork.” Javi shook his head as you slid down his back, crossing the threshold into your hotel room.

“Hey! That’s no way to treat your future wife!” You snickered, giving Javi a harder than expected smack on the ass as he stood in front of you. He immediately spun on his heels, hooking his arms under your thighs, picking you up and pulling you against him as your legs locked around his waist.

“Baby, I’m about to show you exactly how I’m gonna treat my future wife.” He rasped, nipping at your neck as he began to carry you to the bed, taking a few more stumbling steps than normal as he tossed you down onto the fresh, white sheets, making you squeal.

“Well… in that case… Do your worst, Mr. Peña.” You raised an eyebrow at him, your teeth biting down on your tongue as a grin grew across your face. Javi wasted no time, pulling you to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you as he draped your legs over his shoulders, hiking your dress up your thighs, sliding his hands against the soft skin on your legs as he pushed up the silky fabric. Hooking his fingers around the lacy waistband, Javi’s face liting up up instantly as he pulled down your panties, realizing what you had been wearing the whole night.

“These are new, aren’t they?” A devilish grin spread across Javi’s lips as he held up the white, lacy thong, already damp from his previous promise.

“Maybe… A little extra surprise, just for you. Only for you.” You propped yourself up on your forearms, shrugging at Javi and giving him a wink as he shoved the skimpy fabric into his back pocket.

“Fuck, baby girl. Only for me. This all for me, too?” He nudged open your knees, revealing the wet slick pooling between your thighs, gently brushing the pads of his fingertips along your entrance, collecting your arousal as he slid through your folds before pushing two fingers inside you. You gasped, arching your back along the bed as his fingers dipped into your dripping heat, pulsing in and out of you ever so slowly, luring out your response. “Tell me, Hermosa. Who’s this all for?” You could feel the hot breath of his words against your cunt as he tucked his head between your spread legs, hooking his arms around them.

“You, Javi, holy shit, it’s all for you.” You moaned, reaching a hand down to tug at the ends of his rich, brown curls as Javi licked a long, broad strip of his tongue against your heat. The pressure against your already throbbing clit had you whining, pulling tighter at Javi’s hair as his fingers set a steady rhythm with each thrust of his hand. Curling them ever so slightly, the new angle of his fingers inside you had him pressing against the spot he knew would unravel you, memorizing you like the pages of a well worn book he had read over and over again. His face was buried in your pussy, swirling circles with his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves, the presence of his broad frame nestled between your thighs making you cry out his name, leaving the hand unburied in his locks fisting at the bedsheets. You could practically feel Javi’s grin as he sucked around your clit, feeling you begin to clench tighter around his fingers with each thrust of his hand. His pace was relentless as he could feel you coming undone, devouring you with each meticulous movement of his mouth and stroke of his fingers. You could feel the heat creeping up your spine, your legs beginning to tremble as that all too familiar feeling built inside you.

“Oh Javi, fuck, fuck baby, I’m so close, don’t st-ahhhhhhhh.”

Pleasure flowed through your veins, as you felt yourself gush around Javi’s fingers, gripping tighter at his hair as your orgasm swept through your body, leaving you a whimpering mess as he withdrew his digits and detached his mouth, the smirk of his mustache covered in your slick as he watched you begin to catch your breath as you came down from you high.

“That’s my good girl. Always so fucking sweet when you come for me, baby. Sit up Osita, I need to take this off so I can see what’s under that pretty little dress of yours.” Pushing yourself off your forearms and onto your hands, Javi crawled over the edge of the bed towards you, pressing tender kisses along your neck and down your collarbone as he carefully slid the straps off your shoulders before his hands wandered to your back, gently pulling down your zipper. His touch made you shiver, so soft as it pressed against your skin, each moment undressing you feeling so delicate. Javi drank every inch of you in as he left you exposed, helping you to lift your arms over your head as your dress left your body. “I’ve never seen anything more fucking perfect.” He whispered, heedfully laying you down on the bed underneath him as he worked at the buttons of his shirt, shedding it to the floor before the clinking of his belt buckle led his pants and boxers to follow suit. Hovering over you, he stroked himself before caging his chest against yours, nipping at your neck as his words danced in your ear. “I wanna have you just like this, baby. Take all of you in, every beautiful part of you.”

“Kiss me.” You weren’t sure if you were begging him or demanding him, but in that moment, there was nothing more you needed than to feel Javi’s lips on yours, for your mouths to meet in an electric moment where the only things that existed were you and him. Resting his forehead against yours, you felt the gentlest nod, the strong arch of his nose brushing along the length of yours before he pressed his lips between the open slot of your mouth. You felt the swipe of his tongue along your bottom lip, his mouth swallowing your moans as he guided his length through your folds, his tip collecting your arousal before slowly sinking into you. You savored in his sweet stretch, wrapping your arms around the broadness of his back as he bottomed out into you, pausing for a moment before withdrawing and tenderly stroking back into you.

His thrusts were slow and steady, relishing in the beauty of you beneath him, soaking in every detail of the woman he loved more than life itself. There was something so intimate about the way you found yourselves, your bodies melting together as one, fitting together like a perfect pair, never again meant to be separated.

“I love you.”

Your soft murmur bringing his eyes to yours, Javi’s gaze desperate and needy as his lips met yours again, planting his palms on either side of the pillow your head was resting on as his thrusts became deeper and more intense as his hips flushed against yours.

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

You could feel the arousal pooling in your belly, building more and more present with each stroke of his cock pressing against the spot that made your mind go blank. The way he was so deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix, combined with the way the curls of his hair around his base brushed against your clit had you whimpering, already feeling your second orgasming building as Javi began babbling in your ear, his words only making you clench tighter around his length.

“I love you so much, Osita. I wanna give you everything, baby. I wanna marry you, put a ring on your finger- fuck- find us a house with enough rooms to fill with as many babies as you want, I wanna spend every day making you so fucking happy-ahhh, it’s you and me, Osita. Yeah? Eres todo lo que necesita.” (You’re all I need).

That was all it took to send you over the edge, wrapping your legs around the small of his back, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you cried out his name into his soft skin, over and over again. As he watched you come undone, it didn’t take long for Javi to feel himself reach his own high, pumping a few more times into your hilt before pulsing into you, his spend coating your walls, milking every last drop of himself before slouching into you, his body draped over yours as your chests rose and fell together with each breath, laying for a few moments in the sweet silence, basking in the presence of one another. Pushing himself up, Javi hissed as he gently pulled himself out, the mix of your spend coating your thighs and the sheets below you, quicking getting up to grab you a washcloth from the neatly folded pile on the sink before bringing it back to you, carefully wiping you up before tossing it across the room to the bathroom floor.

Scooping you up and laying you across his chest, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could to him as he pressed a long kiss into the tangled ends of your hair, only retracting as he felt the warm huffs of your giggles against his skin, grinning at your heartwarming smile.

“What’s so funny, Hermosa? He asked, brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Do you ever think about if you never came to do that presentation? That none of this could have never happened? That we could have gone the rest of our lives without ever meeting each other? And now here we are, in fucking Chicago, going to a wedding together, having the like, most romantic, drunk sex ever in the history of man kind? I don’t know. It’s kinda just crazy how life works sometimes, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know…Ever since I’ve met you, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you. I don’t want to imagine it any other way.” He cupped his hand around your jaw, cradling it as his thumb rubbed across the warmth of your smiling cheeks.

Javier Peña couldn’t fathom the idea of his life without you, and now, he was one step closer to proving to you that he never had to. After exhausted, hungover goodbyes, and a sleepy flight back to the Laredo airport, the first thing Javi did after you had unpacked from your trip and gotten into the shower was dig through the back of his sock drawer. Every day since his birthday when he had tucked it away there, he couldn’t help but to take it out and look at it, imagining how it would feel when he finally slid it on your finger and asked you to be his wife. Because in a sock, inside a sock, inside another sock, was a little velvet case that held a beautiful diamond ring that was about to be yours.

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts

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saccharinesunsetretired · 4 months

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Wilbur Soot’s Guide to Side Hustles | camboy!Simpbur x camgirl!reader | Part One

My first ever series on this blog yayayayay! Also first time writing Simpbur. No fucking clue when the next chapter will be up though. Could be next week. Could be a month. Life contains many mysteries.

Summary: Wilbur has had a long line of obsessions in his time. In a desperate attempt to get the attention he craves, he starts making content online. When he encounters you at a party full of other creators...well, he's never been good at staying away from things that draw him in, and you may very well be his undoing.

Warnings/Tags: sub!Simpbur, dom!reader. Unrealistic sex/depictions of sex work (although I did try), smut, pegging, general simpbur creepiness, discussions of virignity/consent, low self-esteem and insecurity problems, unhealthy attitudes toward sex. Reader is AFAB and a woman

Word Count: 11.3k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED, NO EXCEPTIONS

“Hey, creep.”

Wilbur blinked and looked up from his math textbook. Standing right in front of him was a girl from his English course, a girl he’d had a crush on for years. They had never actually spoken. Instead, he’d done what he did best—watched from afar and stayed out of it. For a moment, despite her harshness, he just stared, basking in her attention.

She laughed, and her friends laughed from a few desks away as they looked on. “Do you know how to speak?” she asked.

“Y-yeah,” he said. He could feel his cheeks burning. “What’s, um…what’s up?”

“‘What’s up’?” The girl laughed again. “I’ve seen you hovering near my locker, you fucking pervert.”

Wilbur froze. “I-I wasn’t—“

“Oh, you weren’t?” She leaned against a nearby desk. “Who’s been leaving me notes, then?”

Wilbur wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hole. He had been leaving notes. And admittedly, yes, some of them were creepier than others. The notes ranged from Good luck on midterms :) to You looked so hot in class today. And despite Wilbur’s general lack of self-awareness, he recognized how this looked. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll stop.”

“If you don’t, I’m reporting you,” she replied. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Got it.” Wilbur had never felt more embarrassed. The other students began to whisper. He could feel a million eyes on him—well, what felt like a million, at least. “I’m so, so sorry.” He stared at his desk as his eyes stung.

“Good.” The girl stood there for another few moments. “It’s a waste,” she said. “You could almost be cute, if you weren’t such a freak.”

Present Day

You could almost be cute if you weren’t such a freak.

Wilbur remembered that, because of course he did. It was the closest he ever got to someone returning his affections. Yes, he knew it was pathetic, but that shred of affirmation went a long way.

He started bettering himself. It started with better hygiene, not wearing clothes multiple days in a row, properly washing his hair. His parents had been bothering him to do that for ages, anyway. He dressed better, tried to socialize. That last point didn’t go too well. He got bullied to the point that he ended up switching schools and had to deal with the fact that at least a bit of it was warranted.

He never saw that crush of his ever again. He developed new ones, new fixations. He didn’t leave notes, though, or stalk anyone or do anything to arouse suspicion. He promised himself that he could be normal, that he would be normal.

Well, perhaps he’d intentionally switched classes a few times to “keep an eye on” some of the people he became fixated on. But was that such a big deal?

And then university came. Loans, what felt like a million dollars in debt. One night, the result of a drunken decision, he filmed himself getting off. On an even more questionable drunken decision, he posted it online to some internet forum he had only heard of in passing. The second he remembered it the next day (after recovering physically a bit from his previous drinking binge), he was absolutely mortified. And yet, to his immense surprise, people liked it. It wasn’t any sort of viral sensation, of course, but he had a decent number of comments when he woke up in the morning. At first, he was put off by the vulgarity of it, but then, he realized that this was how he could get the high that he’d always craved—attention.

He started working on it. Filming videos, uploading photos. Pretty soon, he had an OnlyFans account going. His content was mostly solo stuff, webcam livestreams and private chats with his more dedicated followers. To his surprise, he started making decent money. It was nice to have something to help relieve some of the university debt. Plus, the validation was nice, even if it was only in praise of his body.

Besides, he had long given up the idea of anybody loving him for anything other than that.

Online, his persona was more submissive. It was easier for him, not having to fake confidence that he didn’t have. Instead, he could let himself moan as loud as he wanted, let the microphone pick up every small gasp and whine as he got himself off either with his hands or one of the million toys that he’d purchased since starting the job. The needier he looked, the better.

Then, he found the confidence to do his first collaboration. The benefits of moving to a larger area for university were plenty, but one of the biggest benefits turned out to be the fact that he was far from the only sex worker in the city. He lost his virginity to a girl on a livestream, although she didn’t know it was his first time. At least, she pretended not to know. Wilbur got the feeling that she could tell. Either way, it had made good content. In fact, it had been so profitable that she had invited him to a small gathering of some other creators—sex workers of all types.

And that was how he ended up holding a can of cheap beer in the corner of a party. It was at someone’s apartment, someone he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. The music was far too loud, the conversation too overwhelming. For a moment, Wilbur was sixteen again, sitting at his desk and wanting to disappear.

At least, until you walked in. You, dressed to the nines for a simple house party. For a moment, he locked eyes with you, and he nearly forgot how to breathe. He looked away first, too intimidated, too afraid. However, he watched out of the corner of his eye as you walked into the kitchen to greet the host of the party and grab a drink.

When you reentered the living room, Wilbur’s eyes immediately went back to you. Suddenly, it was as if nobody else was there. He could feel it creeping up on him again, the beginning of an obsession.

Be normal, he reminded himself. Don’t be a creep.

He watched as you greeted almost everyone at the party, flawlessly interacting with the guests. Clearly, you knew your way around. Eventually, you made your way over to Wilbur. He took a sip of his beer to try and appear casual, only to choke slightly.

“Shit, didn’t mean to startle you,” you said, chuckling. “You alright?” You leaned against the wall right beside him, so close that he could smell your shampoo. Or maybe it was perfume. He couldn’t tell, and honestly didn’t care to discern the difference.

“Fine,” Wilbur replied. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. You caught me mid-sip.”

“My bad, stranger.” You offered your hand. “I’m Y/N. And you’re Wilbur, right? Allison told me about you.”

Wilbur hesitantly shook your hand before pulling his own hand away suspiciously quick. “Right, yeah,” Wilbur replied. “We did a livestream earlier.”

“I heard. Apparently it was a hit.” You briefly glanced at your phone before tucking it back in your pocket. “And you’re new on the scene…?”

“Yeah, pretty new.” Wilbur shrugged, trying to play it cool and relax his nerves. “That was my first non-solo livestream.” And my first time having sex ever his mind reminded him. Because people only want you if they can profit.

He shook the thought away as you spoke again. “Damn. Pretty good for your first time, then.” You grinned at him. “Most people don’t get this kind of attention so quickly.”

“It’s…definitely been a surprise to me,” Wilbur agreed. A tense silence passed between you and Wilbur. “So…you also do the whole…camgirl thing?” He thought that he’d heard of you in passing, but before, he’d had no reason to look you up.

“Yeah! Two years and going. Still doing mostly solo stuff, but trying to branch out a little,” you replied. “It can be difficult to know who to trust in this industry, who genuinely has your best interests at heart and who is taking advantage.”

“I bet.” Wilbur set his beer aside. It wasn’t that good, anyway. “Do you like it?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes yes. Other times no. Depends on how creepy people are that day.”

Wilbur laughed, nodding in agreement. He watched you as you took a sip of your own drink, some sort of cocktail. “But you make good money?” he asked. His frenzied mind attempted to come up with some flirtatious lines, but nothing else left his mouth. Considering how cringy all the lines were, it was for the better.

“Decent money,” you replied. “And you?”

“Decent money.”

“Cool.” Wilbur felt slightly uneasy as you eyed him up and down. “Hand me your phone,” you said after a moment.

Wilbur blinked. “Why?” he asked. Despite his questioning, he unlocked his phone and handed it over without complaint.

“So I can give you my number,” you replied. You began entering your contact information. “Not to be too forward, but the main reason I came to this party was just to network. Like I said, I’m branching out, and it seems that you’re doing the same.” You handed his phone back. “Maybe we could collab.”

Wilbur felt his heart hammering in his chest. The room felt like it was spinning, and considering he’d only had half a beer, he definitely couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “Oh. Um…you sure?”

You smirked. “You seem harmless enough, Wil. Besides, we can talk a bit beforehand, get to know each other a little. I’d rather not fuck someone without knowing a bit about them.”

“Fair.” Wilbur very shakily tucked his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He noticed you starting to leave. “We’ll be in touch, then?” he asked.

You winked. “You can count on it.” Only a moment later, you disappeared into the crowd.

Wilbur left the party immediately after. He saw no point in staying if he couldn’t talk with you more. Even after that sliver of conversation, everyone else at the party seemed even more dull than before. He got into the back of a taxi, trying (and failing) to make his brain go quiet.

All he could think about was your skin under the multicolored lights at the party, the sound of your laugh, the brightness of your smile. He checked his phone, and all he could think about was the fact that your hands had touched it less than fifteen minutes prior. And maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right he would get to touch you for real.

He imagined your hands on him, fingers curled around his cock. Nobody had ever given him a handjob before, but he (for better or worse) had always had a vivid imagination. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window of the cab as he imagined it, your fingers on him. He tried to imagine every detail, the texture of your fingertips, the tone of voice you would use as you praised him.

By the time the taxi dropped him off outside his apartment building, he was achingly hard. He made it to his studio apartment, took off his coat and shoes, and immediately sat on his bed. He opened his laptop and searched for your name.

Sure enough, he found your OnlyFans, as well as the few free teaser clips that you’d uploaded elsewhere. There you were, a vibrator on your clit in one clip, your fingers teasing your own nipples as you moaned for the camera.

He slammed the laptop shut. No, he told himself. No more obsessions. If you manage to make this work, all she’ll be to you is a colleague, a coworker.

Don’t be a creep.

He got out of bed and made it to the bathroom, where he stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper, and turned on the shower. A cold shower would do the trick, he figured. Admittedly, he’d never actually tried the method, but it was the best he could think of. He could scrub away all thoughts of you, get rid of his hard-on, and call it a night.

He shivered as the cold water hit him. It felt fucking awful, cold water on his skin when all he wanted was warmth, but he toughed it out, waiting for his “problem” to resolve itself.

But it was no use. All he could think about was the sound of you moaning in that video, gorgeous lips parted, legs spread. He couldn’t help but wish he could hear you moan for real, not the fake sort of moans that are exaggerated for the camera.

He gave up after a while and got out, wrapping his lower body in a towel as he did a walk of shame back to his bed. He sat on the towel and reopened his laptop.

He found your OnlyFans page, and without thinking, he subscribed. He wasn’t sure if you could see his username if he used his official account, so he made another guest account. You were worth the inconvenience. He started to scroll. He saw a clip of you and Allison, you grinding against her thigh. Another clip showed you edging yourself into oblivion, cheeks flushed, eyes watering. That was the clip he finally settled on.

He edged himself along with the video, stopping whenever you stopped. If your hand stopped moving, so would his. In his mind, it felt almost like mutual masturbation, like you were really there doing this with him. He imagined you watching him, murmuring praise to him.

It wasn’t often that he got off without toys, not because he couldn’t, but because he was almost always filming his orgasms, and thus toys were usually involved. Despite not having any added vibration or stimulation, he came harder simply from touching himself while watching your videos than he had in months.

He laid there afterward, his own cum on his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. You’re absolutely hopeless, he told himself.

And yet, he couldn’t stop now. Not when you were so close.

It took Wilbur three days to work up the courage to text you, and from then on, conversation flowed naturally. At first, it was small talk about the industry—which people did you know, how many parties had you been to, what sort of content were you interested in making, and on and on and on. Wilbur was honest, admitting his lack of experience in the world of sex work, although he didn’t admit his lack of sexual experience in general. If he did, he might scare you off or make you hesitant, and he didn’t want that.

Conversation then turned to more personal matters. Still surface level, yes, but less detached than talks of industry and networking. He learned that you were a camgirl on the side, using the funds to add to the money you made from waitressing as you saved up. He also learned your favorite restaurant in the city (which he offered to take you to sometime, delighted when you accepted the offer) as well as your favorite bands, books, movies…all the surface-level questions he could hope to get answers for.

To his dismay, two weeks of texts went by without you mentioning possibly meeting up to film together. Just when he thought that was off the table and this would only amount to friendship, his phone buzzed as he was working on an essay. He picked it up, assuming it would be either one of his parents or a spam call, and grinned when he saw your name. You were requesting a FaceTime call, so he quickly smoothed his hair before answering.

“Hey!” you said cheerfully. Wilbur was so relieved to see your face, not just on your OnlyFans, but you, you choosing for him to see you. You looked like you were fresh out of the shower, and he realized quickly that you weren’t wearing a shirt. He couldn’t see anything below your shoulders, but the realization still had him speechless for a moment before he regained his composure.

“Hi!” he said back with equal cheerfulness. “How’re you?” He flicked on another light in his apartment so that you could see him better.

“Good,” you replied. A moment of silence passed. “Listen, are you free Saturday?”

“Yeah, why?” The truth was, Wilbur wasn’t free Saturday. He was in a study group for an upcoming exam, but at that moment, he decided that he didn’t give a shit. He would happily flunk an exam if it meant getting to spend more time with you. He had only seen you in person once, and only for a tiny moment in time, and all he had thought about since then was getting more.

“I have a business idea,” you said. Wilbur watched as you sat down on a couch at what must be your apartment. He caught a glimpse of the top of a towel wrapped around your torso, and although this thought made him slightly disgusted with himself, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Still, his disappointment only lasted a second once your words sunk in.

“A business idea?” He immediately perked up. “What is it?” His mind went wild with possibilities. A livestream? Some short clips? A whole homemade porn film?

“So…your online persona is more on the submissive side, right?” you asked.

Wilbur’s brows furrowed. “How did you know?” Although the two of you had talked about the industry, bonded over creeps on the internet and the like, the details of your content had gone mostly undiscussed.

He noticed the rather sheepish expression on your face. “I may have done some research,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

His heart skipped a beat, and he had to fight to keep himself calm. You had done research on him? That meant you had definitely seen some of his content, and not only that, but seeing his content made you more interested. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared. If it were anybody else, he wouldn’t have cared, but you? You, the subject of his obsession (he’d finally admitted to himself that’s what it was), the person he thought of every night before going to bed, thought he was desirable? Maybe not desirable, but at least worthy of seeing, worthy of working with. That was enough.

“It’s not weird!” he reassured you. “I…I may have done the same.” He did not tell you that he had a whole folder on his laptop that was only clips of you, that he’d labeled each video, that he’d gotten himself off to every single one. He definitely didn’t tell you that while filming himself the day prior, he’d been thinking of you the entire time. No, that was too much. That was creepy, that was obsession…but based on your admission, he figured a bit of the truth couldn’t hurt.

Thankfully, you reacted positively. “Thank god,” you said, laughing softly. “I thought you’d think I was a pervert.”

“No! No, of course not,” he said quickly. “I would never.” He settled his back against the headboard of his bed. “So, anyway, what was the idea?”

“Well, as I was saying,” you continued, “your persona is more on the submissive side. I portray myself as more dominant. Very convenient for us, no?” Wilbur nodded along as you spoke. “I was wondering…” You trailed off. “I can be forward with you, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer it that way.”

“Great! How do you feel about getting pegged?” A moment of silence passed as Wilbur’s brain completely short-circuited. He didn’t realize how long he’d been quiet until you spoke again. “Okay, uh…maybe I was too blunt.” He heard your awkward laugh through the phone.

“No! No, not too blunt at all. I’m fine with it,” he replied. “Yeah, no, that sounds great.” He tried to hide the nervous undertone to his voice. Using toys on himself is one thing; being on the receiving end of someone else’s movements is another. “I’d be down for that.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You were quiet for a moment, there.”

“Yeah! Yes, I’m completely sure,” Wilbur replied. “You want to, um, livestream that? Or are we just filming…?”

“Just filming,” you replied. “Having sex live is way more complicated. This way, we can try a couple different angles to see what looks best on camera.”

“Right.” Wilbur took a deep breath. “That sounds good. You said Saturday?”

“Saturday, yeah,” you responded. “And I was thinking we do it at my place. No offense, I’m sure your setup is nice, but I’ve been in the game a bit longer. I’ve probably got nicer gear.”

“That’s great. Sounds good.” Wilbur’s nerves kicked up a few more notches. He was going to embarrass himself, he just knew it. He was going to walk in, immediately get hard just looking at your setup (which was already somewhat familiar to him) and look like a loser. He tried to shove that thought away.

Thankfully, it seemed that you sensed his discomfort. “Listen, uh…I know that you’ve only done something like this once,” you said. “If you ever change your mind, you can leave. I won’t judge you for that, even if we’re in the middle of filming. Consent rules don’t magically go away when there are cameras rolling.”

Wilbur’s heart thumped in his chest. You were smiling warmly at him over FaceTime, and he wanted nothing more than to be there with you. His thoughts weren’t sexual, at least not in the moment.

His mind wandered. When was the last time he’d been held by somebody? He’d never once been held by somebody who liked him romantically. He wasn’t sure that anyone outside his family had ever so much as hugged him. The thought made him dizzy. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

“Don’t thank me. It’s basic decency.” You continued smiling at him. “Oh, we don’t have a time set. Does one work?”

“One is fine,” Wilbur replied. “I’m totally cool with one.”

“Sounds good. Saturday at one, then,” you said. “Be ready to film.”

“I’ll be ready,” Wilbur promised. He just hoped that it was a promise he could keep.

He spent the rest of the week panicking. He shoved himself into schoolwork, studying, finishing up the essay that you had distracted him from. On Saturday morning, he woke up, shaved, took a shower, blow-dried his hair and got dressed. He knew that the clothes would be coming off, but he tried to dress somewhat nice anyway. He figured that even his nicest jeans and a button-up would be fine. He kept reminding himself that a business encounter was all this interaction would be.

Around noon, he got a text from you:

Hey ;) ready to film?

He quickly replied.

Born ready. Send your address?

The next message contained your address. He took a deep breath, brushed his teeth (for the third time that day) and set off. He left his apartment, got into his car, and started driving.

He put on a playlist on the way there, one he had made containing music from your favorite bands. He kept constantly checking himself in the mirror to the point where he realized he would hit something if he didn’t stop. He was an absolute wreck of nerves.

He pulled into the apartment parking lot and got out of his car. He walked into the building, took the elevator…

And there was your door. He stepped toward it and hesitantly knocked three times. The wait was agonizing. He stood outside the door for a minute before you opened it.

“Sorry!” you said. “I was in the middle of getting the lighting set up. Come in!”

“No worries.” He followed you inside. Your apartment was immaculately clean, with enough decorations to add character without being overwhelming. He followed you down the short hallway to your bedroom.

Sure enough, it took a lot to keep himself calm the second he stepped through the door. The whole place smelled like you, and it was enough to make him lightheaded. He looked at the setup, and it was honestly impressive. You had a professional-level camera setup, multiple lights, and cameras at various angles. “This is…wow,” he said. “You know your shit.”

“I’m a professional.” You winked at him as you adjusted the angle on one of the cameras. “Okay, so…a bit unconventional, but we’re going to do a test of sorts to make sure that the angles on the cameras are correct. Is that alright?”

Wilbur shrugged. “As you said, you’re the professional. I’ll let you call the shots.” He had no idea what a “test” would entail, but he wasn’t about to question it. He stood off to the side, watching you as you worked. Your white tank top left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Great.” You adjusted one of the lights, lowering it slightly. “What do you think? Too bright in here?”

Come to think of it, it was a little blinding. “Maybe a bit softer,” Wilbur suggested.

“Good idea.” You nodded in agreement and dimmed the lights. “Better?”

“Better.” Wilbur took a few deep breaths. “We good to go?”

“Good to go.” You sat on the bed, examining the angles from your sitting point, clearly trying to decide if they were any good. “Yeah, definitely good to go.”

“Okay, then.” Wilbur stood there awkwardly. “What, um, what do I do?”

“Like I said, I want to test the angles before we start actually filming.” Wilbur watched as you pressed record on all the cameras. “I figure we just experiment with a few positions, see how the camera captures it. You can stay dressed if you want—-like I said, this is just a test.”

“Alright,” Wilbur murmured. He sat on the bed and nearly froze when you cupped his cheek. His face was so close to yours that he could barely breathe.

“You still okay with this?” you asked, searching him for any sign of hesitation. He nodded. This was terrifying, but the thought of walking away was even scarier. “Good.” Mere seconds later, you pressed your lips to his.

It took him a second to kiss back, but once he started, he never wanted to stop. Your lips were soft against his, just testing the waters at first. He had no idea where to put his hands, but he didn’t have to think about it for long, as you quickly pushed him onto his back. He made a small noise as you got on top of him and continued kissing him.

Wilbur didn’t consider himself a good kisser. It wasn’t like he had much experience. The kisses became rushed and sloppy, and just as he started to settle into the rhythm, you were getting off of him and checking the camera footage. He sat there, dazed, as you made your way around the edge of the bed, checking what the cameras picked up. You were explaining something about the process, something about lighting and shadow and…whatever else, Wilbur wasn’t listening. He could still taste you, still feel your lips against his.

He only snapped back to reality when you approached the side of the bed again. “You still okay with the pegging thing?” you asked.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He could feel how hard he was, the slight friction against his jeans, but he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. Who cared if this was just for work, just for content? He was about to have you, and having you in any capacity was better than not having you at all.

“Alright, then.” He watched as you opened a nearby dresser. “I have a couple things that you can choose from…” You pulled out a box and set it on the edge of the bed. He scooted closer as you opened it, his throat catching at the array of items. “These are all the toys I have that are compatible with the harness,” you explained. “I’d rather us not start filming until the main event, so to speak. We can get you all prepped before that.”

He nodded, breath catching in his throat. “Sounds good,” he choked out. He glanced over the collection of toys. Some of them were definitely too big for him, so he avoided them. His eyes finally landed on a pink dildo, just slightly bigger than the one he’d used in a recent clip. “That one, maybe?” He pointed.

“Good choice,” you said. “Just got this one.” You picked it out of the box and laid it on the bed. Wilbur’s eyes stayed on you as he watched you gather more stuff—-the strap-on harness, some lube, a buttplug. You went about it with the precision of a doctor gathering medical supplies. It was both hot and slightly unnerving.

“Do we have everything?” Wilbur asked. He shifted slightly, both to get comfortable and because it was difficult to sit still when he was so close to you.

“Yep! We’re set.” You sat back down on the bed close to him. He shuddered as you rested your hand on his thigh. “Still okay?”

“Still okay,” Wilbur confirmed. He closed his eyes as you leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back, less sloppy this time, less desperate. He wanted to be able to contain himself, at least a little. He didn’t know what you’d think of him if he appeared too needy.

Your gentle hands pushed him backward, and he laid down on your soft mattress, eyes unfocused as he looked up at you. He pulled you in for another kiss, and whined as your tongue found his. The sound was pathetic in his mind, but it seemed to spur you on further. He gasped as you grinded against him. Even though it was only the tiniest bit of friction, it was one of the best things he’d ever felt. His hands wandered to your waist, sliding under your tank top. It was the boldest thing Wilbur had done so far, and he was more than pleased when you leaned further into his touch.

A moment later, your lips left his. He frowned for only a split second before realizing why. When he opened his eyes, your hands were brushing against his as you took off your tank top, leaving absolutely nothing underneath.

He stared. He couldn’t help it. He wanted so badly to touch all of it—-your stomach, your bare waist, your chest. It was almost too much. His cheeks went red as he heard you laugh softly. “Enjoying the view?” you teased.

“Oh! Um…sorry,” he said sheepishly. He forced his eyes upward, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. To his surprise, there was no sign of disgust or embarrassment on your face, only amusement. “You’re just gorgeous. Couldn’t help it.”

“Of course I am. How else would I have gotten this job?” You smirked down at him, and he managed to laugh despite his nerves. “In all seriousness,” you said, “thank you. You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”

It was one of the more tame comments he’d gotten in recent times, but it was by far the best. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice coming out as a squeak. Before he could apologize for that, you were kissing him again. Your hands found the buttons of his shirt, and he helped you take it off without hesitation. His mind went blank as your hands wandered his skin, tracing the lines of his abdomen and chest. He returned the favor, letting his hands wander a little. He held back, not squeezing or grasping, just lightly touching.

You slid out of your shorts, and Wilbur fumbled with the button of his jeans. Once he undid that, you got his zipper for him. You lifted yourself up for a moment so that Wilbur could remove his jeans. He shivered as his bare skin met the cool air of your room, then frowned as you got off of him. “We should get you ready,” you said. He nodded, finally removing his boxers.

He let them fall to the side of the bed, leaving him completely exposed. He could feel how hot his cheeks were, but you didn’t seem to be judging him for it. In fact, you were focused instead on putting lube on your fingers, occasionally glancing at Wilbur. He shivered, parted his legs without you asking. He laid there for a moment, staring at your ceiling, trying to calm himself. He only had a moment before you were back, settled down beside him. “You ready?” he heard you ask. He could only nod in response.

He felt a finger press inside of him, and he sighed. His eyes closed, his lips parted, and he let himself revel in the feeling. For once, he had someone else’s fingers, someone else’s touch. Of course, only one finger wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a perfect start. He moaned quietly as you moved your finger in and out, slowly, almost teasingly. He spread his legs further for you, and you scooted closer. At one point, your finger curled just enough that it brushed against his prostate, and the moan that he let out was downright desperate. He clasped his hand over his mouth, only for you to move it away. “Where’s the fun in that?” you murmured. He couldn’t even process your words before you brushed his prostate again, and he nearly moaned even louder.

“More?” he questioned. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely…” You slid in another finger and he whined. It was then that a thought occurred to him.

When he used his own fingers or his own toys, he never properly prepped himself. Not ever. It always hurt a little bit, since for him, he was always doing it just for the camera. It made him realize how much he neglected himself when it came to his job, never truly considering his own boundaries or what felt good to him. And yet, here you were, and it didn’t hurt with you at all. Even though this was just for work, just for content, you were being more considerate and gentle with him than he was with himself. He made a mental note to thank you later.

In the meantime, your fingers curled against his prostate, and he let himself moan and whine, gripping at the sheets and breathing heavily. He let his mind go empty, let himself fully relax, let himself be yours even if only for a moment in time. He felt it as you switched between brushing against his prostate and prepping his hole, gently stretching your fingers to spread him a little wider each time. “This feel okay?” you asked.

Wilbur nodded, unable to speak properly. You continued your movements, and Wilbur continued his moans. Your fingers were gone all too soon. Wilbur gasped a few times and forced his hazy vision to focus. “All good?” he asked, a little concerned. He watched as you wiped your hand off with a wet wipe before tossing the wipe in a bedside trash can.

“All good,” you replied. “You feeling ready? I grabbed a plug just in case you wanted to use that for more prep, but if you’re feeling good, I say we go for it.”

“I’m good to just go for it,” Wilbur said. To his surprise, his voice was a lot more steady than it had been. Something about your presence was calming, even in a situation like this that Wilbur had no experience with. He watched as you got the harness ready and strapped it on. Okay, maybe the dildo was a little bigger than he’d originally thought, but he would be fine. He hoped. “Thank you for, um, helping me get ready.”

“Why wouldn’t I help? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said. You finished putting on the harness before coating the strap in more lube than was probably necessary, just for good measure. “The nice thing about not working for some big porn company is that we get to do things in our own time. We’re not rushing to fit some director’s schedule.”

Wilbur nodded. “Right.” He’d heard varying things about being in professional pornos from various people in the industry. Experiences ranged from incredibly negative to incredibly positive, depending on the company, the director and any number of other factors. Wilbur was grateful to be making enough money on his own to make this venture worth his while. It was nice not having to risk mistreatment. “Still. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched as you pressed “record” on each of the cameras. You turned back to him, your expression focused, methodical. “Ready?”

Wilbur nodded. “Ready. Um…safeword?” He definitely didn’t plan on using it, but it was always better to be safe.

“Is the stoplight system good with you?” Wilbur nodded. He’d never used it, but he knew what it was. “Perfect,” you replied. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.” You smirked, and Wilbur grinned back. All the nerves were gone, replaced with excitement and focus. The cameras were rolling. Time to put on a show.

Wilbur wiggled his hips slightly, getting comfortable as well as a bit closer to you. He glanced at one of the cameras and shifted a little so that it would catch his facial expressions better. His eyes quickly went back to you. He felt your hands on his thighs. “You gonna be good for me?” you asked, your voice a little louder than it had been earlier. He figured it was just for the cameras.

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said, slightly exaggerating the tremble in his voice. From the look in your eyes, you approved. “I-I’ll be good for you. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”

“Yeah?” Your hands ran up and down his thighs, causing him to tremble and shiver. “Then be a good boy, and tell me what you want.”

“I want…I want you to fuck me,” he said. He realized then that he was being too quiet for the cameras to pick up, but thankfully, you saved the scene.

“A little louder, sweetheart. I couldn’t hear you.”

“Fuck me,” Wilbur said, a little louder. “Please.” Despite the fact that it was just an act, he knew that the way you called him sweetheart would be playing on repeat in his head for weeks to come, if not months. His obsession was certainly deep enough for that.

“Good boy.” He felt the tip of the strap press into him, and he gasped. “Aw, already too much?” You asked teasingly.

He shook his head frantically. “No. Not—-not enough. Need more. Please…” He tried to scoot closer to you, to get more, but you shook your head.

“You only get what I give you. Understood?” He nodded. “Good boy.” You continued pressing the strap into him, painfully slow, giving him a chance to adjust to the size of it.

He whined, trying not to arch his back or move too much. Instead, his hands gripped at the sheets. He tilted his head to the side a little bit, right in the view of the camera to show off his face contorted with pleasure. His viewers always liked that; he figured that yours might as well. “Fuck,” he gasped out. “You’re so…so big…”

“Too much for you? Or are you gonna be good and take it?” You pushed the rest of the way in, and despite feeling fuller than he’d ever felt, not an ounce of pain came with it. Wilbur was grateful for that.

“I can be good,” Wilbur promised. “I can take it. I swear I can be good and take it.” He whined as you shifted your hips a little, and his hands went to grasp at your back. “Please. Please start moving. I need—-I need you.” Not even Wilbur could tell at this point where the genuinity ended and the act began.

You grinned. “You’ve been good so far. I feel like you’ve earned a reward.” You started shifting your hips, slow but deep thrusts that had him reeling. You weren’t quite getting his prostate, and he suspected that it was on purpose, you wanting to draw this out longer for the cameras.

Wilbur tilted his head back slightly. His eyes fell half-closed, and he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He let his lips remain parted. He suppressed his moans, opting instead for gasps and grunts. It would make better content, he figured, if he could start small and build up to it. It was taking a lot of effort to hold back.

“More?” he asked meekly, trying to make his voice loud enough for the cameras, yet quiet enough to keep up the submissive appearance. Although, he supposed it was more than an appearance. With some time, practice and confidence, maybe he’d be able to play a different role. For now, this is what it was. His body trembled slightly with the nerves and the sensations.

“Hm? What was that?” Your movements slowed down a little, much to Wilbur’s dismay. “Did you just ask something of me without saying please?” You leaned down, your face hovering inches from his. “You remember when I told you that you only get what I give you, right?”

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” He sighed as you ruffled his hair, his brown eyes wide and gazing up at you full of desperation. “I promise.”

“Then say please,” you replied. “You can say please, can’t you, baby?”

Wilbur nods, a sharp, jerky movement. “C-can I please have more?” he asks.

“More what?” you asked innocently. Your hips continued rocking back and forth, so languidly that it was frustrating. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

“I-I want it harder,” Wilbur replied. “F-faster. Please? Please, I need it.” With every passing moment, Wilbur became less and less aware of the cameras picking up his every move. If he focused hard enough, he could pretend that this wasn’t all an act. It was a dangerous game, pretending that way, but as time passed, he cared less and less.

“I guess I can give you what you want,” you said nonchalantly. “If you promise to be good.” Your movements picked up speed, hips thrusting slightly faster but just as shallowly. You weren’t thrusting all the way to the hilt, but Wilbur did his best to be patient despite wanting it desperately.

“I promise,” he panted out. “Please. I’ll be good.”

“Good boy,” you cooed. Wilbur felt a shiver go down his spine, and his shivers immediately turned to gasps as your thrusts got harder, faster, more forceful. He tried to tilt his hips a little, make you brush against his prostate, but you refused to comply, still avoiding the spot entirely. He let out a whine, high-pitched and needy. It was almost embarrassing, but based on the way you only smirked wider and picked up the pace, it was clear that you weren’t about to judge him for it.

Wilbur let himself get a little louder. He was tempted to cup your face, to run his fingers gently along your sides. He almost did before remembering that this wasn’t real. You didn’t love him. This was just sex. His second time ever, with someone he’d been crushing on obsessively, and none of it was even real. Despite how good he felt physically, he started to feel like shit mentally. The thoughts combined with your movements caused him to tear up a little bit, much to his embarrassment. He felt his eyes burn a little, and he glanced away from your face, trying to hide it.

It was no use. You saw. “Color?” you asked softly, too quiet for the cameras to pick up properly. Your eyes held a somewhat concerned expression. Immediately, Wilbur felt bad for upsetting you.

“Green,” he replied easily. “I’m okay. Promise.” He even managed a small smile.

You nodded, the worry slowly melting from your face. He moaned as your movements picked up speed again, and then whined as you finally, finally, hit his prostate. His moans got increasingly loud as you continued hitting that spot with every thrust of your hips, burying yourself inside of him to the hilt of your strap. He looked down between his legs as best he could, watching you move in and out of him. He could only look for a moment before having to tilt his head back and whine once again.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “So desperate for my cock, huh?”

“Y-yes.” Wilbur gripped the sheets with one hand and your shoulder with the other. “Please, please, please don’t stop.” His voice came out sounding whiny and pathetic, wobbling with every word.

“You’re doing so good,” you replied. “Taking me so well.” Wilbur moaned once more as you gripped his hips, using the hold as leverage to help you thrust harder.

He could feel himself getting close. He noticed how much pre-cum he was leaking, small drops of it dripping down his cock. “S-so close,” he whined. His hand subconsciously went to his length, but you quickly pulled his hand away.

“Not without my permission,” you chided him. He gasped as you continued your movements.

“Please,” he said desperately. “Please, I need…fuck, I need you to touch me. Please.”

You grinned and wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly pumping him up and down. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan. After just a few movements of your hand, his hips were twitching. He let out a series of swears and pleas, his words nearly incoherent as he finished, cum coating your hand and his stomach. You murmured soft words of praise, but he could barely register them.

His vision was hazy as you stopped moving. He gasped for air, panting. He felt numb and overstimulated all at once. His hand that was gripping the sheets slowly loosened its grip, and he let his hand fall from your side. “Thank you,” he murmured. His throat felt scratchy and dry.

“You were such a good boy,” you said, running a hand down his hip to his thigh. You pulled out, and he gasped at the feeling. You leaned in close to him, your faces inches apart. “We’ll have to do this again sometime, yeah?” He nodded eagerly before you pulled away.

He watched as you turned off the cameras, and he finally let himself relax, laying down fully on the bed. His gaze went from you to the ceiling before he closed his eyes. He needed a break, a few moments to collect himself, to come back to reality. His eyes still burned, and he let a few tears escape down his cheeks. How could something so pleasurable also be so painful?

He laid there for a few moments, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself. He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears away. He couldn’t get over the thought that this wasn’t enough, that he needed more of you, and he needed it to be real. It was as if all his years of loneliness were catching up to him at once. Every night that he wished someone would hold him, every day that he’d spent pining after people who would never love him back…not to mention the constant self-loathing that came from the small amount of self awareness that he had, the awareness that he was a creep who nobody could ever love.

Wilbur heard you as you took off the harness before walking over to his side. “You alright?” you asked. Your voice was soft, concerned. “Was I too rough with you? Do you want some water, or maybe something to eat?”

Wilbur opened his eyes and sat up a bit. “Um…water would be good. And no, you weren’t too rough with me.” He wiped his tears off his cheeks and managed a smile. “You were a lot less rough with me than I am with myself, honestly.”

You grinned back at him. “Okay, I’ll get you some water. If you want to clean yourself up, the bathroom is to the right of the entrance to my room. There are washcloths in the drawer under the sink.”

“Thanks,” he said. Some warm water to help wipe the sweat off him sounded almost magical. “I’ll go do that.” He slowly got off the bed, feeling a little shaky. Your kindness and the sweet sound of your voice had taken away some of his pain, but the loneliness lingered in his mind like an ever-present itch that he couldn’t reach the source of.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” you called after him. He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

He used the bathroom, cleaned himself up, and was about to head back to your room when something caught his eye. You had a laundry hamper in the bathroom, and on top of the pile of laundry, nearly blended in with the surrounding fabric, was a pair of black underwear.

He immediately beat himself up for even thinking about taking it…but god, it was tempting. He would have something of you always, something you’d touched. More than just touched. He could keep it in his room, with his things, a little souvenir.

The only other souvenir he’d ever kept was from the girl he was obsessed with in high school. She had once torn out a page of notes and dropped them in the trash can, and he had fished it out and kept it. Of course, he’d thrown it out after she’d called him out for being a creep.

Never had he had something like this. But he quickly realized that, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t take it. He was naked, so it wasn’t like there was a pocket to hide it in.

He pushed away the disappointment and left the bathroom. It was better this way, better that he not have the opportunity to do what he wanted. Despite knowing that it was for the best, he couldn’t help but feel upset by it.

He re-entered your room, where you were sitting on the bed. You’d changed out the duvet, and there was a glass of water on the nightstand for him. You were dressed again in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he felt more exposed than ever. You turned when you heard him enter, and immediately, he was given a smile. “Feeling better?”

Wilbur nodded and smiled back. “Much better, thanks.” He glanced around and saw his clothing on the floor. “I’m just gonna…”

Your eyes flitted to the pile of his clothes. “Right. Good idea.” You then glanced at the dresser in the corner of your room. “Hold on, I have something you can wear instead of that uncomfortable button-up you were wearing.”

Wilbur was about to protest and say that the button-up was fine (despite the fact that it was cheap and a little itchy in reality), but he quickly shut his mouth and worked on getting his jeans and boxers on. If you had something for him to wear, something that was yours, that would be a dream come true. He watched you as you shuffled through a drawer.

“Here it is,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. He saw as you picked up a t-shirt, one that was definitely too big for you. “I have this extra shirt. I accidentally ordered a few sizes too big, so you can have it if you want.” You tossed it over to Wilbur, and he caught it.

It was a band t-shirt. Wilbur recognized the band as one of your favorites. “Are you sure?” he asked. The material was soft in his hands, and Wilbur swore that it smelled like you.

“Yeah, I’m never going to wear it. It’s yours.”

Wilbur held it like it was precious. He examined it before sliding it on. It fit him well, not too loose but not too tight. He looked over at you and immediately noticed that you were looking right back at him. “It fits really well,” Wilbur said. “Thank you. This is much better than my other shirt.”

“No kidding,” you replied. “That thing felt like it was awful to wear.” You paused. “Plus, you look good in it.”

Wilbur could hardly believe it. You had complimented his appearance twice. In one day. “Thanks,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “I, um, appreciate it.” He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and sat down in order to steady himself. He took a sip, immediately feeling refreshed. He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt.

“Anytime.” You sat beside him on the bed. “Can I…ask you something serious?”

Wilbur put down the glass and turned his full attention to you. He saw the slight concern in your expression, and his small smile quickly faded. “Sure. What’s up?”

You tilted your head slightly as you looked at him. “Are you okay? I know that you said you were alright, but you seem a little shaken up still. I’m just a bit worried.”

He sighed, trying to figure out what to say. On the one hand, he could be honest. At least, a little bit honest. You didn’t need to know the full truth. On the other hand, he could insist that he was fine. He worked through the options in his mind, and settled on a half-truth.

“I, uh, have never been pegged before,” he said. “This was my first time. I think I just got a little overwhelmed is all.” He paused, and when he saw your expression grow more concerned, quickly added, “But I’m fine! Really, you were great. You didn’t do anything wrong, and it was a good first time. A great first time.” He could feel his cheeks get slightly hot, but he did his best to stay relaxed.

You looked surprised, your eyes slightly wide. “You…you got pegged for the first time, just now, on camera?” You shook your head, a barely noticeable movement. “That’s…brave. I’ve never done something for the first time on camera.”

“Yeah…yeah, I probably should’ve prepared beforehand,” Wilbur said. “But I just figured…it’s not like I’ve never done anything anal on my own. I figured it would be fine, and it was.”

“But you looked upset,” you said.

“Just overwhelmed,” Wilbur replied. “I promise it’s okay.” The last thing he wanted to do was deter you by making you feel bad. Besides, it really wasn’t your fault.

“Wilbur…” You looked away, pausing as if considering what to say. “Allison showed me a short clip the other day of that video you two filmed, and…and I don’t know if it was just an act, but I got the feeling that you were very new to what you were doing.” You looked back at him, and he felt the intense desire to disappear, to change the subject, because how could he admit how little experience he had without being intensely embarrassed? “Was that…did you ever have sex before that?”

Once again, Wilbur had the choice between honesty or a lie. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he wanted to try for more with you—more than just friendship, and definitely more than business partners. The terrifying thing was this: if he wanted that, truly wanted that, then he would have to be honest with you at some point.

“...No,” Wilbur said, barely audible. He avoided eye contact. “I was, um, too nervous to tell her that it was my first time. I wanted to do a collab, so I just didn’t say anything.” He fidgeted with his fingers, trying to distract himself. “I…maybe I was wrong to do that. I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I just didn’t want to wait around for things to happen for real, because I need the money now, not later, and…and it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen anytime soon, so…” He shrugged, hoping that the explanation was enough.

“And…and was it good?” you asked. “Like, was it a good first time for you? Did you enjoy it?”

Wilbur thought back to it. Allison was nice, sure. She was amenable, very understanding when it came to the fact that Wilbur was new in the industry. And yeah, Wilbur had finished that first time with her, but when he really thought about it, he couldn’t say it was enjoyable. It wasn’t enjoyable, being with somebody he had no connection with. It wasn’t enjoyable knowing that this incredibly vulnerable moment of his life was being livestreamed in real time, and it definitely wasn’t enjoyable that his first time was done for profit rather than for the experience, for the fun.

“I mean, does anyone enjoy their first times?” Wilbur managed to dodge the question, but his eyes still didn’t meet yours.

“Yeah! Well…I don’t know. They’re generally not good in the sense of being physically pleasurable, but they don’t have to be awful,” you said. “I just…I can’t imagine doing that in front of a camera, streamed live like that. And it sounds to me like you did it because you didn’t feel like you had any other choice.”

Wilbur finally looked up at you, scared of a reprimand, scared of your judgment. But all he saw in your expression was worry and kindness. “I…I’ve just never really had the opportunity,” he said quietly. “I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I kissed a girl, like, once in high school, but that was it. And then not again until Allison. I just wanted to get it over with, to feel…I don’t know. Normal, I guess. Desirable. Like…like someone wanted me.”

The second the words came out, Wilbur was mortified. He’d never told anyone any of this, and the fact that he’d told you of all people, the second time he’d ever spoken to you in person, made him wish he could turn back time and erase this entire conversation.

He felt you gently take his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said, “that things didn’t turn out the way you would have liked.”

Wilbur looked down at his hand, gently wrapped in yours, and he gave it a small squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said. “It wasn’t awful.”

“Still,” you said. “It sucks.”

“It does suck.” He watched as you let go of his hand, hiding his disappointment. “Anyway, um…I’m sorry to unload all that on you,” he said, his self awareness returning to him.

“It’s fine, Wil. We’re friends, and I wouldn't have said what I said if I wasn’t prepared for a response,” you said. “Really, it’s okay.”

He could hear the softness in your voice, the hint of concern. It nearly made him cry again, just knowing that somebody cared about him at all. “Thank you,” he said. “I…I really appreciate it.” The words felt so tame in comparison to what he wanted to say, but all the words he could think of seemed too much. He couldn’t believe that you’d referred to him as a friend, that you wanted to continue associating with him. It seemed too good to be true.

One thing was certain: it would take a lot of willpower to make this obsession go away, and Wilbur wasn’t sure he had it in him to let you go.

To Wilbur’s absolute delight, his time with you didn’t end there. After filming, he stayed for dinner. He ate pizza with you on your couch, watching a cheesy 80s movie and making fun of the special effects. Admittedly, he watched you far more than he watched the film, and he felt shivers every time you looked his way.

Over the course of the next week, he messaged you every day. Sometimes, it was because he messaged first, and other times, you were the one to reach out. He forced himself to exercise some restraint, to not be too eager. You made it difficult. Many of the texts were about the video, you giving Wilbur updates on the editing progress. At the end of the week, it went live. Wilbur was notified by your message:

Done! Let’s see how this goes

Wilbur grinned, swallowing back all the anxiety that he felt. What if it was bad? What if people didn’t like it? What if his inexperience showed on camera?

He shoved it all down and sent a reply.

Sweet

After a moment, he was struck both by how boring his last message was and how great of an opportunity this presented him with.

Want to celebrate tonight? Drinks on me?

He waited anxiously for a reply. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed with no response, until finally, your name appeared on his screen.

How about that bar a block from my place? You know the one?

Wilbur did, in fact, know the one. He’d passed it on the drive to your apartment.

I know it. Send the address and I’ll be there

Eight?

He smiled.

Eight sounds perfect :)

Once again, he couldn’t believe his luck. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair. He left early to make sure that he was there in time and that you wouldn’t be stuck waiting for him. The cab ride to the bar felt like it took a million years, and when he got there, you were sitting at the bar waiting for him.

The bar was packed. There was music blasting over the speakers, some pop song that Wilbur couldn’t place, though he’d heard it over the radio a million times. He sat beside you at the bar. “Hey!” he said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

You greeted him with equal enthusiasm. “You made it!”

“Of course I made it,” he said, grinning. He could already feel his cheeks get warm, although whether it was from the crowded bar or his proximity to you, he couldn’t tell. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Only about five minutes,” you replied. “But I got here early. Still waiting for the bartender.”

“Perfect.” Wilbur glanced at his surroundings. The scene reminded him of when he’d first met you. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a month. “Is the video doing well?” It was too early to draw many conclusions, of course, but he was curious.

“Holy shit, you have no idea,” you said, grinning. “People love the video. Already, I’m getting messages asking for more of it.” You seemed proud of yourself, and Wilbur couldn’t blame you. You’d done most of the work, after all.

He could feel his heart pounding. People loved it, which meant that you would probably want to do it again. More time spent with you, more excuses to see you…it all sounded perfect. “So when is part two?” Wilbur asks. “If people love it, I mean…we should probably get to filming more material, right?”

Your smile faltered, and his heart immediately sank. Of course. Of course it was all too good to be true, too perfect to be real. He should have known better. When you finally spoke, Wilbur was already bracing himself for rejection. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said. Before Wilbur could say anything, you continued. “Not because I don’t like you, okay? I…I won’t lie, it was fun. I’m just…”

“You can be honest,” Wilbur said, so quietly that he could barely be heard over the sounds of chatter and music. “If you don’t like me and don’t want to do it again, that’s okay. I get it.” He knew that he sounded pathetic and self-deprecating, but he had no clue what else to say.

“Wil, I just said that it wasn’t because I don’t like you,” you said. “Please take my word for it.” Wilbur nodded, slightly embarrassed. “The reason I don’t want to film more is because I’m a little worried about you.”

Oh. In a way, that was a relief to hear. It meant that you didn’t dislike him. On the other hand, he was terrified. Did you see him as pathetic? He wouldn’t blame you, but it was still a blow to his ego. “...Why?” he finally asked.

“I just…” You sighed. “You were literally crying, Wil. It was concerning. And I’m not saying that you did anything wrong, because you didn’t, I just think that…” You laughed, a short, nervous sound. “Fuck, I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding insensitive.”

Wilbur froze. You were going to call him a creep, pathetic, a loser. He just knew it. “Just say it,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You have some things to sort out,” you said finally. “This type of job can ruin you if you don’t have the self-esteem to handle it. I’ve seen it before. People go into it feeling like shit about themselves, and then all the validation they get is purely sexual, and it fucks with them when they don’t get that validation anymore. It can be hard to separate your sense of self from your sex appeal, you know? But you have to.”

Wilbur took a deep breath. That was somehow worse than anything he’d anticipated you saying. He wasn’t a creep in your eyes, maybe, but he was broken. He had low self-esteem. You saw him as something to be pitied, and that was a hard pill to swallow. He kept opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He finally gave up. “Okay,” he said finally. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

You went quiet. It was only until the bartender showed up that you spoke again, ordering some drink that Wilbur couldn’t make out the name of due to being lost in his own thoughts. When you asked him what he wanted, he replied with water. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore.

After the bartender left, Wilbur felt your eyes on him. “Yeah?” he questioned. “What?”

“Did you actually listen to what I said?”

“What? Yeah, of course I did.”

“Wilbur…”

“I get it,” Wilbur said quickly. “I know that I’m…that I’ve based my whole life around this, and I know that it’s concerning, and I get it. But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Take a break,” you suggested.

“I need the money.”

“Okay, well, go back to solo content for a bit. Because I think you need a moment to think things through.”

It didn’t sound so bad, actually, going back to doing things alone for a while. As long as he still had you in some capacity, maybe it would turn out okay. “Alright,” he said. “I could do that.”

“Good.” You thanked the bartender as he handed you your drink before turning back to Wilbur. “I think it would be good for you.”

“Probably,” he admitted. He sipped his water, trying to enjoy your presence despite the war of emotions he had going on. It took him a moment for him to ask the question that he wanted to ask. “...Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “I just think you need some time off.”

He accepted the answer, but there was one more thing he needed to ask. “I’m sorry if this is…weird,” he said carefully. “But I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date sometime. Like, a proper date, not…”

“An amateur porn filming session?”

“Right. That.” Wilbur felt his hands trembling. “Um…we could go out to dinner sometime. Wherever you want.” He felt dizzy, his breathing shallow and his heart pounding way too fast. “If you want to.”

You took an agonizingly slow sip of your drink. “I’d like that,” you said finally. You smiled at him, and it was like everything falling into place. Wilbur could breathe. You hadn’t rejected him.

And soon enough, he would have you, one way or another.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot x reader smut #simpbur #saccharine writes

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atlasofthestaars · 6 months

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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .007

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NOTE: Lots of fluff this time, hope you enjoyed! I uh, hurried to get this out before my work LMAO

Time for yet another poll this time about Kitana! These should be stopping soon, but I want to cram these all in before the Outworld Tourney arc so I can plan it out properly!

As usual leave your thoughts, and I will be taking them into consideration up until a week after this chapter, aka when the tumblr poll ends.

About three chapters left of original content before rejoining with the main plot! I don’t think there are many other characters that people are interested in polling for after Kitana and Havik, but just know that chapter 10 is probably the last time I will accepting asks for love interests since by then I do want to cement how the characters will interact with the reader before we head off to Outworld.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO GETS A LITTLE CLOSER WITH OTHERS

Turns out that movie night is what you needed.

It didn’t fix all your problems, certainly not. If only it did. You still struggle with sleeping still. You aren’t certain how you were able to fall asleep so easily in that room, but you weren’t able to fall asleep quite as nicely afterwards.

You still worry and struggle to relax, and you weren’t certain if you were going to ever find a permanent solution to that. But you were inspired by Johnny to take up more activities to help loosen up more. You began to cook more, trying to chase the perfection that was Madam Bo’s cooking from the recipes that she had taught you.

You ended up cooking more than you often needed, and outside of meal times, you were often too embarrassed to ask Liu Kang to help eat the food. You weren’t even certain if the fire god even enjoyed eating, or ate to simply accompany you so you did not eat alone. You always wondered that, but found it to be too awkward of a question to ask. Plus, he seemed happy enough to eat your cooking.

Nevertheless, you had a surplus of food that you could not throw away, so you thought of a different solution.

“You don’t have to give me this.” Kenshi said, a look of confusion on his face as you handed him a neatly packed box of food. It was still warm and you could faintly smell the goodness that was inside. Despite his words, you held it out to him insistently to the point where he took the food into his hands, a confused look on his face.

“No, no I insist!” You say, brushing it off. “I’ve recently taken up cooking as a hobby again, so I’ve been cooking more than I usually do.” You explained, crossing your arms so the man could not hand back the food you had given him. “I don’t want food to go to waste, so I insist, really. Plus, I figured you’d be someone who would help critique me on what I need to improve.”

“Wouldn’t Kung Lao be better for this?” Kenshi inquired, though he did not look as against the situation as he originally did. He lifted the box up slightly, trying to examine the pristine way you had wrapped and packed the food. “He’s the one who likes food the best out of all of us.”

“He enjoys any food, he’d just eat it and compliment me to see if he could get more.” You pointed out, having thought this out. “Raiden would be too nice, he’d say I tried hard on it even if it was horribly seasoned and burnt. Johnny might have been a good choice, but I also think he might take me giving him food the wrong way.”

“I see.” The swordsman said, taking another look over the packaged food another time. You felt proud of yourself for how neatly you had done it. He paused, before sending you a small smile, and you mentally pat yourself on the back. “Thank you then, I’ll make sure to give you a thorough review of it.”

“Good, because there will be plenty more where that came from.” You said confidently as you quickly shooed him off. “Now go back to training.” You nagged him. “And let me get out of here before Johnny Cage makes fun of me for being here on my off time again.” You whispered, scanning the area for the actor.

You quickly left, leaving Kenshi standing there with a slightly stupefied expression. He glanced down at the box, a small smile on his lips.

When was the last time he had tasted a home cooked meal made with care?

Sneaking a peek around the area, his curiosity tempted him too hard. He pulled at the packaging you put thought into, and opened the lid. It looked like the definition of made with love. He grabbed the utensils you had given him, and took a bit of the food, too curious about it.

It tasted amazing.

“You’re free to do whatever, just don’t kick their asses too hard.”

It was a month after your short break, and despite your visit to the Lin Kuei temple a long while ago, it was only until now that Smoke could make time to help out your group.

You shot the gray haired man a grin as you walked down the halls with the man. He let out a chuckle at your instruction, raising an eyebrow. The man seemed confident, probably due to you hyping him up for this day. You knew he would provide just the perfect challenge.

“Let me give you the rundown.” You said as you continued to guide him. “Kung Lao, you remember him, is doing great. He does have a bit of an ego though, so feel free to knock him down a peg. Raiden, the other person from the exam, is also doing well, but don’t let his innocent looking face take you off guard. Feel free to also go a bit harder on him, he needs the push.”

“It sounds like you want me to beat up your students rather than test them.” Tomas pointed out an amused tone in his voice as he glanced over to you. He was very expressive with his eyes, which was a trait you were thankful for since he was wearing his mask today for training.

“Isn’t that the Lin Kuei way?” You teased before sighing as you put a hand on your left rib cage. “It’s been years, and I swear Bi-Han left a permanent bruise from his intensity.” You huffed. “Anyways, for the other two, let’s see…” You paused, thinking of what to say. “Johnny has a flashy way of fighting, don’t let the look of his fighting deter you, no matter how impractical it may look, he can still land a solid punch.” You let out another scoff. “Also, don’t let his words, whether positive or negative, take you off guard, he’s a real charmer.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s an actor, he has a way with words. He might try to butter you up so you’ll go easy on him. Or try to cast you in his movies.” You informed him, remembering back to the first time Johnny had tried to get you to join his movies after the tournament. “You’ll see what I mean.”

“Duly noted.” Smoke nodded, but you had a sense that you probably made him more curious rather than cautious. You watched as he subconsciously spun the karambit he fought with on his finger, doing tricks with it absentmindedly.

“Anyways, Kenshi has some more…practical practice with fighting, so he’s also a threat to look for.” You continued, purposefully being vague with Kenshi’s past for the sake of his privacy. “He fights with a katana, so I suppose you’ll be out ranged.” You pointed out, gesturing to the much shorter dagger he wielded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to close the gap.” The Lin Kuei man said, with a tone of confidence in his words. You smiled, remembering your old spars with him. He was always tricky to fight against, being able to easily slip in a fight to get right where he wanted. “Any other advice you have for me?”

“Nope, like I said, you’re pretty much free to do what you want.” You said with a small shrug. “They’ll learn a lot from fighting you.”

The two of you made your way to the courtyard, where the group was gathered. They were waiting, and you could tell that it had probably only been a few minutes since the last master had been training with them.

“Gentlemen, I present with you today, a different person to spar.” You greeted as you rounded the corner with Smoke in tow. You gestured to your friend, a smile on your lips. “This is Tomas, otherwise known as Smoke. He’s from the Lin Kuei. and I chose him to help train you today.”

“Lin Kuei? Like the ones who broke my Hichuli?” Johnny asked, as he looked towards Smoke. He observed him for a moment before pointing at him. “Nice mask, by the way.” He commented before looking towards you again.

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Smoke was surprised by Johnny’s compliment.

“I remember you from the test.” Kung Lao said, walking up to take a closer look at the guest. He sized him up and down, crossing his arms as he did so. “We’re better trained now.” He declared, referring to Raiden and himself with confidence, “We can take you on without you pulling your punches.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Kung Lao.” You warned, sending him a look. “You may have been progressing very well with your training, but Tomas here is still a trained hunter, you know.” You gestured towards the gray clad man who took your praise well, but there was a hint of bashfulness you could glean from his face.

“It is an honor to have you with us here, today.” Raiden spoke, bowing towards Smoke with utmost respect. You smiled, pleased at the respect he displayed. You could always rely on him to be modest. You watched as Kenshi also nodded in his direction.

“Kung Lao, since you’re so confident, go ahead and step right up first.” You instructed, nodding towards Smoke who stepped forward to take the challenge. You crossed your arms and observed, feeling satisfied as you were proven right that Smoke provided just the right amount of challenge. He could do what the rest of you could not: attack from all sorts of angles with his teleportation techniques.

As Smoke finally knocked over the farmer, you strode over. You held a hand out for the man.

“Good job.” You praised both of the men. You gripped Kung Lao’s hand firmly as he grabbed yours, hoisting him up. You felt Kung Lao squeeze your hand briefly before releasing it, and you mentally noted how his hand felt with the callouses.

“You’ve improved since the exam.” Smoke added in, brushing himself off too. Even though Kung Lao had been ultimately beaten, you could see that he had still given the Lin Kuei member a run for his money at times.

“Thank you.” Kung Lao said, seeming to have been humbled a bit more. An enthusiastic look appeared on his face as he tilted his head towards the two of you. “Soon enough I’ll be able to beat you though.” He said with confidence. “Especially when I get my hat.” He said, his tone dripping with excitement as he glanced at you before walking off to the side to rest up.

“A story for another time.” You said as Smoke sent you a curious look. “Kenshi!” You called the previous gang member up, and stepped back to observe the fight from the sidelines. You had your students rotate through, each of them fighting Smoke one on one. After the last match, you called for a break, letting them catch their breaths, especially Smoke who had been fighting all this time.

“You’re really making me work.” Smoke commented lightly as he took the water you handed him.

“Just as you did when I helped you.” You reminded him, remembering how many Lin Kuei recruits he had made you spar on that day when you visited the temple. “Don’t think I forgot.” You teased as you brushed past him, purposely bumping into his shoulder in a playful manner. You felt his stare on you as you walked away to go talk to your students.

You approached all of them, giving tips to them, explaining what they could improve when they were called up to fight Smoke for another round. You smiled as you watched them absorb the information. Soon, you sent them all back to fight the Lin Kuei member once more.

“Alright, you’re all dismissed.” You declared as Kung Lao finished his round, you chose for him to go last this time since he went first the first round. You clapped your hands, and they nodded as they dispersed. You watched as both Kenshi and Smoke approached you, only for Johnny to distract the Lin Kuei member and whisk him away.

You’d have to make sure that the actor wasn’t roping the poor man into anything later.

“What’s up?” You inquired as the swordsman approached, but you had an inkling of an idea of what it was about, after all you’ve been hearing his food critiques for about a month now.

“The food today was great, as usual.” Kenshi informed you with a soft smile. He had certainly warmed up to you much more ever since your food gifting had begun. “I did notice though that…” And he went off on a small talk about your food, giving you helpful criticisms as usual. He was always honest, and seemed to put great thought into his reviews, which you dearly appreciated.

It felt all too familiar, and you felt nostalgia pull at your heart. While you didn’t have too many memories of Kenshi in your past life, you had enough to remember that he must have been a close confidant. Why else would you care so much about his opinions?

“I’ll be sure to do that next time.” You said, but your mind drifted off. While you had been cooking mainly Chinese cuisine, you briefly considered trying out Japanese cuisine for Kenshi. You opened your mouth to ask for his favorite food, but considered against it.

Maybe you can surprise him instead.

You think you remembered what you believed was his favorite food from the hazy memories that you had sorted through. You made a mental note to visit Madam Bo soon to try to ask for some advice for cooking it. After all, she was the best chef you knew.

You watched with a silent pride as the man walked off after giving you his short food review. You felt a presence approaching you, and you turned to see Tomas approaching with raised eyebrows. You returned his confused expression.

“You feed your students?” He asked, a tone of curiosity…and another emotion you couldn’t quite place. You let out a small laugh as you nodded.

“You overheard?” You asked, but you knew already that he must have if he was asking about it. You placed a hand on your hip. “I do, but just to Kenshi. I’ve been practicing the recipes that Madam Bo taught me, and I usually make too much and give some to him. He helps me out by critiquing them.”

“I see.” Smoke said, nodding. He paused for a moment, a look of consideration crossing his face. “All these years of knowing you, and I don’t think I’ve tried your cooking, I’m hurt.” He said, his voice taking a teasing tone at the end. You scoffed and rolled your eyes to match his playful energy.

“It’s nothing special, if you want real good food, you should try Madam Bo’s, she’s the real master.” You said, moving to cross your arms. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, you’re right. I haven’t cooked for you before.” You paused and considered something. “Maybe one day I should.”

“I’d like that.” Tomas said, his eyes crinkling at the edges as you assumed he smiled at you. You returned the smile.

“I’ll make plans for it, then.” You said, trying to think of an appropriate time to cook for him…or maybe you should invite the other Lin Kuei ninjas too. You began to calculate in your head some plans. It was only until you saw Smoke extend his pinky in front of your face that your train of thought was derailed. “A pink promise?” You inquire with a mock offended tone, “What, you don’t trust me?”

“I do, I just want an excuse to hold it over you in case you forget.” Tomas said. letting out a small laugh. You sighed dramatically as you rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, you extended your pinky and hooked it around his, playing along.

It was a little silly, but seeing the promise between you was a bit charming. A small delightful tingle was left on your skin where it had made contact with his as your pinkies unraveled from his. You wondered briefly if it was a side effect of his power, but didn’t try to question it too much, just savoring how it felt.

“I’ll hold you to your word, then.”

“The first prototype of Kung Lao’s hat is here.”

Turning around, you saw Liu Kang approach as he carried a small box. You approached him, grabbing the box from his hands. It was lighter than you expected, and walked over to set it down on a table so you could inspect it properly.

It took longer than you were expecting to get this first prototype. Another month had passed between when you had Smoke help you and now. The days seemed to be passing quickly, and the months leading to the Outworld tournament were dwindling slowly.

You weren’t certain to be nervous about the time to train these men were quickly running out, or to be excited that soon you were going to finally visit Outworld.

“Interesting.” You remarked as you held up the razor sharp ring of metal up from out of the box. It seemed it was the main blade that was supposed to attach to the edge of the hat. For now, it was still unattached. You were careful as you traced the edge of the blade, but hissed as you accidentally cut yourself on it. “Sharper than it looks.”

“Indeed.” Liu Kang said. you saw a crease of worry appear on his face as he noticed the look of pain on your face. You set down the blade, going to go inspect your finger where it had cut you. You squinted down, seeing a bead of blood beginning to form. It was a bigger cut than you were ready for, it extended to two of the joints of your pointer finger.

Carefully, the fire god grabbed your hand. You blinked owlishly as he carefully lifted up your hand to inspect it, not knowing what to exactly say or do. He let out a small hum as he noticed the small amount of blood. As if he were touching something delicate, he wiped away the blood with his thumb.

His touch was always so gentle, so warm.

“You carry a medical kit with you, yes?” The protector of Earthrealm inquired. You nodded, not noticing how you were spaced out. You reached around to grab it out of your pocket. You handed it to him, feeling a bit touched he remembered that fact about you.

Liu Kang took it from you, and you watched as he carefully took the supplies out of the pack. He carefully made sure to clean the blood away before he spread some petroleum jelly on your skin. You tried not to flinch at the contrast of the cold jelly and his warm skin. Then, he carefully wrapped your finger up with a band aid.

“Thank you.” You quickly said, briefly stupefied at the actions of the god. You could have cleaned and mended your cut yourself, and yet you found yourself not wanting to mention that fact to him. Maybe he just thought it was easier for him to patch your wounds for you. There was no reason to overthink things, the fire god was just as friendly to you as he is to everyone else.

Surely.

“No problem.” Liu Kang replied warmly as he packed up your medical pack and handed it back to you. You swallowed as you took it back, tucking the pack back into one of your pockets. You avoided his glowing eyes as you picked up the box.

“It’s time to deliver this to Kung Lao.” You announced, before walking briskly off. You tried not to think about why you were all of a sudden feeling tongue tied over such a small gesture. You ignored how you felt his stare linger on you for maybe a little too long as you walked off.

You were overthinking things lately, honestly.

“This looks better than I envisioned!” Kung Lao marveled as he looked over the blade you were presenting to him. You basked in the beam he sent your way, and you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you as you were watching the man’s dream come to life before your very eyes.

And you were the cause of it.

“I think it looks good too.” You remarked. You instinctively pulled the blade away as Kung Lao tried to touch the edge. You had been reminded of what happened earlier, and ignored how your face wanted to warm up at the memory. “Be careful, the blade is sharper than it looks.” You warn. You hesitate for a moment, before gently handing it to him.

You probably shouldn’t be as cautious as you were being. He was going to wield this razor hat one way or another. You watched with bated breath as he took it from you. Your nerves turned to pride as you watched him inspect it, flipping it over as he murmured to himself.

It felt right, watching him with the blade. Why were you so worried in the first place?

“Oh, and here’s the hat, compare it to the blade to see if you like the fit.” You remarked as you stooped down to pick it up. You heard the sound of metal falling as you lifted the hat up. You looked down, puzzled, as you knelt down to inspect it.

It was a small piece of metal. It had no marks, but it was too small to be any piece of a blade. Was this a piece of scrap metal? You chose not to question it, grabbing it as you stood up. You handed the hat to him, along with the piece of metal.

“Here’s the hat.” You started, before gesturing to the small piece of metal. “Not sure what this is for, but this was also in there too.” You said, shrugging. You watched as he gladly took the hat. There was a look of recognition that appeared on his face as he saw the piece of metal in your hand. He quickly snatched it out of your hand before tucking it away in a pocket.

Odd, but it wasn’t suspicious enough to question him. Or at least, you weren’t bothered enough to.

“Thanks!” He said. You watched as he put the blade along the edge of the hat. Carefully, he put the hat on, holding the blade to the edge with his hands. He tilted the hat down, masking the fact that he had to hold the blade and the hat together by striking a pose. “How do I look?”

A wave of nostalgia washed over you as you looked at the pose. You don’t remember when was the last time you had been hit with it this strongly. You were speechless as you looked at him. You knew he wanted to make a hat with multiple blades, but something about a simple blade hat felt right.

Maybe you should try and make him a different version of this hat, one that felt closer to the memories you had.

A small memory of teasing and laughing with a much cockier version of Kung Lao filled your mind as you looked fondly at the man. You sucked in a breath as you nodded.

“You look great.” You complimented, and you truly meant it. “The hat really suits you, I can’t wait to see how it’ll look when it’s finished.” You watched as a grin grew on Kung Lao’s face, and you spotted a bit of pink on his cheeks. He seemed to absorb the praise well, and for a moment you almost reconsidered taking back the compliment. It was clearly letting it inflate his ego.

Then again, it made him happy, so you said nothing to rain on his parade.

“Of course I do.” Kung Lao said smugly as he took the hat off. He looked at it again, the same way you would think a father would look at their own kid. You held back a chuckle. He was really enthusiastic about this hat, wasn’t he?

“You can mess with it for a while, whether it be practicing with the blade or making notes for the blacksmith.” You informed him. “I’ll be taking it back with the box whenever you are ready to return it to get it worked on again.”

“Got it.” He nodded. “Thanks for this, again.” You watched as the Fengjian farmhand took one last look at the hat before stowing again in the box and running off. Whether it was to test out the blade or to make design notes, you weren’t sure.

Either way, you felt happy.

“You’ve improved a lot.” You remark as you watch Raiden run through a combination again. He was a far cry from the man you remembered from the beginning. You looked up at the stars, reflecting back to those days with a wistful look.

Time was passing by fast, and you were reminded of that as you noted how much more confident Raiden seemed in his strikes. You crossed your arms as you fixed the man with a stare, watching him take pause after he finished the combination.

“Really?” He asked, a small smile on his face. He had an almost shy look on his face as he turned to look at you. You nodded in response, and he stood there for a moment before looking away. “How so?” He asked, a curious look on his face.

“Well, for one, you’re not making as many mistakes anymore.” You pointed out, holding back a small chuckle. “Actually, do that combination again.” You said, finding it ironic that you were probably going to have to take back the praise you had just given him,

You watched him as he did the combination again, and noticed the error in his form. You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. The irony of it all.

“Okay, poor timing.” You remarked. You tried instructing him on how to correct him form, but watched as he kept on missing the critical error. You felt a bit bad, maybe it was because you had just been mentioning how he had been improving and now he was a bit psyched out. You walked up to him. “Here, you need to land like this.”

Gently, you grabbed his arms and moved them into the proper position. You twisted his hands to face the right way. Then, you nudged his legs apart to make sure they were spaced apart properly. You hummed as you leaned in close, inspecting his form now.

“Just like that.” You said softly, as you removed your hands from him. You backed up, looking him up and down. You looked up to his face, raising an eyebrow as you saw him avoid eye contact, his face a bit pink. “You understand now, Raiden?”

“Um, I…” Raiden stumbled on his words, his voice a little panicked as he looked down at himself before nodding. “Yes, I get it now.” He said quickly. You tilted your head, a bit confused at his change in demeanor.

“It’s okay if you don’t.” You reassured him, sensing he was nervous. Was he all caught up in trying to be perfect after your praise? You had a feeling that wasn’t the reason, but you couldn’t quite understand what else it would be. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad by praising you then correcting you.” You told him, trying to make sure he felt better. “I can help correct your form again if you need me to.”

“I should be good.” The former Fengjian farmhand said, his voice still a bit antsy. He shifted out of the form before facing the dummy. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. You nodded at him, and watched with satisfaction as he did the combination much better this time. “How was that?” He asked, a bit skeptical of his own performance.

“Excellent.” You praised, clapping your hands. “See, even if you mess up, you take critiques very well.” You pointed out with a smile. “It’s honestly impressive how quickly you can adapt sometimes now.” You continued. “I don’t think I was as quick of a learner as you are.”

“Really?” Raiden inquired, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “I can hardly imagine you not being excellent at fighting.” He commented, rubbing the back of his neck. “You just seem to be so talented at it, in all honesty. It’s admirable.”

“You flatter me too much.” You said, but still took the praise happily. You’d never admit it, but you enjoyed it whenever people praised your fighting skills. “I just have a lot of experience under my belt.” How much training you truly had, you had no idea, but he didn’t need to know that detail. “I do want you to know that I truly mean it when I say you’ve improved greatly, despite what just happened.”

“You are too kind.” Raiden said, nodding his head at your praise. “I hope to live up to your expectations for me.”

“Oh Raiden,” You chuckled, covering your smile with your hand. You looked at the man fondly, shaking your head. “You already have.” You admitted. And it was true, he always went above and beyond for training, putting in more hours than anyone else did. He was truly dedicated to getting better.

The bashful look on his face, you had to admit, was rather amusing. You grinned. You felt bad, it was almost a bit fun to try and tease the man and see what got him flustered. Maybe you were being a bit of a bully, but you would never really admit that.

“I’ve only managed to get this far because I have such a wonderful mentor.” Raiden said, and you felt a bit warm as he turned the praise back on you. Sure, he had praised you just recently, but there was something about the way he said it that made this particular compliment feel special. The smile that decorated his face only added to it. “So, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being such a wonderful person.”

part eight

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lunarw0rks · 10 months

Text

Through The Ashes | Chapter Four

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): brief mentions of sex (18+), swearing, blood, violence, injuries, Valeria being zesty towards reader

A/N: Giving y'all a long chapter as a thank you for the support on the previous parts<3 Also this isn't proofread lol | Word Count: 6k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter // requests | ao3 | playlist

New Players In The Game

The briefing the next morning couldn’t have been more agonizing.

This wasn’t a situation of trying not to look at him. No, he had that covered for you. You hadn’t even glanced at that side of the table, and you weren’t planning to either.

“I’ve made contact with a counter-terrorism leader by the name of Alejandro Vargas. He’s gotten a closer look at El Sin Nombre than any of our leads have given us.” Price passes out intel files on this new player, taking a huff of his cigar. “Read the files, you know the drill. And pack light.”

As everyone began to clear the room and begin their duties for the day, you remained seated at the table, tightly clenching the file in your hands.

Maybe a change of scenery would be better for everyone, and it would get your team closer to snuffing out your latest threat. On the other hand, being stuck on a plane with Ghost made you want to jump off a cliff.

You remained seated for a few moments before you finally got up and headed for your dorm.

You gave your bed a passing glance, instantly being reminded of what happened the previous night. After you cleaned yourself up, you couldn’t bring yourself to lay on it. You found it preferable to strain your neck sleeping on the sofa. Although today, the pinch in your neck was making you regret that decision.

You grabbed your duffel bag and packed a few extra uniforms, a jacket, and your toiletries. You zipped it up and set it on the sofa, having one less task to do today.

“I’ll pay you to pack mine like that. I’ve never been good at packing.” Soap’s voice brought you to his attention.

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” You chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide the things weighing on your mind. That was one plus of Soap being sort of clueless about things like that.

“Who are you going to sit next to? Gaz already has dibs on the seat by Price.” Soap says as if to hint something.

He was lucky you weren’t even looking Ghost in the eye right now, so this could work out well for you. “I’ll sit next to you.” He looked like a child whose parents just said yes to ice cream. If only he knew why you were so eager.

—

You were the last to board the plane, having been running a little late that morning. You scanned all the occupied seats and finally spotted Soap.

“Might be cramped, this was the only spot left.” He stated, giving an innocent stare. You smiled as you approached closer to him, but it dropped just as quickly when you saw the seating situation.

Soap on the outside seat, and Ghost sitting in the window seat. You are in the middle of the two of them. You’d rather take your chances hanging onto one of the wings than have to sit like this for several hours, but here you were.

You squeezed past Soap and sat in the middle, feeling squished immediately. At least Soap was polite enough to keep his limbs on his side as best as he could. Ghost, on the other hand, made no attempt. His thighs smushed against yours, and his elbow was on your armrest.

He refused to look your way. He stared out the small window for most of the flight. Soap fell asleep on your shoulder about an hour into the flight, so there was no escape for you here. The best you could do was get some work done, listen to some music, count to a thousand - anything that didn’t make you think about what he did.

The hours couldn’t go any slower in your opinion, but they had passed nonetheless. You unbuckled your seatbelt and went to the bathroom, needing a few minutes to breathe - physically and emotionally.

You were craving the night alone you’d have, finally sleeping somewhere other than understimulating barracks.

—

“Enjoy yourselves. But remember, we’re heading out bright and early tomorrow.” The team looked around in awe at the decent hotel they’d be staying in.

“Military budget has its perks, eh?” Soap leaned close to your ear, grinning ear to ear. Luxury wasn’t something you or anyone working jobs like this got often, so it was a treat.

Everyone piled into the elevator, waiting for you to catch up to them. You made eye contact with Ghost, who was in front of the bunch. His eyes brushed over you briefly, but they hastily returned to the floor.

“I’ll take the stairs.” You stated, heading towards them with a clenched jaw. You did just that, jogging down the flights of them to reach your room.

You felt relief over you as you reached your suite. You dropped your bag and flopped onto the bed.

In truth, you wanted to scream into the pillows like a high school girl, but you wanted to handle it better than that.

You took advantage of the grand bathroom, letting yourself soak in it for an absurd amount of time as you worked on some files. For a second, you finally felt a bit of reprieve. But you knew deep down it was going to take more.

You weren’t hurt. You weren’t embarrassed. You were furious.

—

You put on some fresh clothes after your bath - some casual night attire. To say you felt overdressed was an understatement. Having been in uniform for so long, it was an uncanny sensation to you.

The boys were downstairs, surely taking advantage of the open bar and lounge.

It was strange seeing them let loose, laughing with one another. They sat around a card table, intensely playing their card game.

If Ghost weren’t at that table, you might have considered having some fun with them. You hated the sight of him. The way he chatted and played his cards with them like nothing happened.

You strolled over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Might as well learn something from the man you despised and self-medicate when you’re down.

You stare over your shoulder every so often when one of them celebrates a win or loss. You decide to cut yourself off after a few drinks. Working with Ghost in a foreign country and being hungover on top of it was your limit, so you decided against getting plastered.

“Heading to bed?” Soap asked as he looked up from his cards. You nodded and headed for the elevator.

You stepped inside and pressed your button. Before the doors closed, an arm stuck its way between them. A very familiar tattooed arm. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

The doors opened again, letting him step inside. Of course, they had to close sluggishly before the elevator started moving.

The thought hit you about halfway to his floor. You punched the stop button with your fist and turned to him. “Tell me something. What makes you think you can get away with it?” He wasn’t going to budge easily, even if you tried to push his buttons.

He sighed and looked at the floor. You noticed he was swaying a bit more than the last time you saw him at the card table. Of course, you decide to give him a piece of your mind when he’s probably not going to remember it.

Might as well get it out of you, or you’ll implode. “You think you can fuck me and then just walk out? Who do you think you are?” You pressed the stop button again when the last timer ran out.

He finally met your eyes, but his look wasn’t what you were expecting. His expression looked pained, even underneath the glossiness of his intoxication.

“I can’t talk about this right now,” he slurred, staring at the numbers increasing closer to his floor.

You tongued the inside of your cheek and clenched the fist leaning on the wall.

“Oh, you’re gonna play that card now. I shouldn’t expect anything less from you, I guess…” You spat, continuing to stare at him as you spoke. “You act tough, but you can’t even face the problems ahead of you. All you know is how to kill and push everyone away!”

He grabbed your forearm tightly and leaned closer. “You… don’t know anything about me. Or anyone here, so keep your mouth shut.” You’d never heard him sound more irate to anyone, and you’d never expected it to be you on the receiving end of it.

You tore yourself out of his grip and took a few steps back, but didn’t break eye contact with him.

“You threaten me again, and I’ll kill you myself.” You snarled back, catching him off guard slightly. He never imagined someone giving it back to him. Luckily, or unluckily, it was you.

As if perfect timing, the doors opened, and you paraded out without looking back, stomping your way to your room.

—

You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t feel good the next morning. The big confrontation didn’t go quite as you planned, but you walked away without a broken bone, and with Ghost - that was a success.

You were the last to meet everyone in the lobby. Price’s face lit up when you were finally there. “There you are. Let’s get going, big day ahead.”

Ghost was even more distant than he was the night he walked out on you if that was possible. That was fine with you. There wasn’t anything you could say to hurt him, he already had that deep inside him - and it was intertwined around him.

At least being in separate cars, you were able to catch up on some sleep. You seemed to never get enough ever since you took the job.

The vehicle jolting to a stop made you open your eyes, then rub them to get your bearings.

You looked around, finding yourself somewhere in the desert of Mexico. This must be where you’ll meet this “Alejandro” figure. Maybe he would be a good ally. But to you, it could be another reason to watch over your back.

Each of you climbed out of the SUVs, looking around at the base in front of you. Whoever he was, he had a decently sized unit he was commanding.

The door swung open and out walked Alejandro. He had his hands placed behind his back, keeping his posture straight. “Captain,” he reaches his hand out and shakes it with Price, scanning your team as well. “Did your team enjoy the hotel?”

Price maintained a friendly attitude as the chatter between them persisted, which made you ease up a bit. Alejandro showed you around his base, which was a sizeable facility. Definitely different than the barracks in Western countries, but not somewhere terribly cramped. He wasn’t running decaying barracks - he definitely had some reach.

“Not as cozy as you’re used to in the States?” Alejandro questioned with a chuckle deep from his chest. “Welcome to Las Almas.” With that, he left everyone to get settled.

Your “room” was more like a group of bunks in the corner of the base. Not as private, and surely something to get used to. You picked the top bunk, purposely waiting until Ghost decided on his so it would be the furthest from him.

You set your bag down to claim the bunk and caught up with the rest of the group as they headed out the door.

Alejandro briefed everyone on the intel he had. He knew a lot more about El Sin Nombre than your team could hope for. The problem was a lack of numbers - which he now had.

The sight of the country around you was a culture shock. You’d gotten comfortable with the way things were while being stationed in the States, you’d forgotten how complex warfare could be for other countries. Things were more rugged and lawless here.

“An ally of ours - Shadow Company, says they’ll have Hassan in custody by nightfall.” Alejandro climbed into the SUV and then followed your team. “We leave now, we’ll be there in time to get you your information, Captain.”

“You sure you’ll be able to shake him?” Price needled, giving him a skeptical glance.

Alejandro snickered and nodded his head. “It’s clear you haven’t met Commander Graves. He’ll get the job done.”

—

It was a long drive, with nothing but endless desert all around you. The sun had set, and the only thing you could see was the dirt illuminated by the headlights.

Finally, the cars came to a stop. You climbed out and stretched your legs, seeing a man knelt in the sand below you. And in front of him, a man with a head of blonde hair.

“Graves,” Alejandro barked, getting his attention. He motioned toward your team, “Task Force 141. They flew in this morning—figured you would appreciate the help.”

Graves turned his head, nodding instead of introducing himself properly. He tore the sack off of Hassan’s head and gave him some halfway threat.

“You are in bed with the cartel, Hassan. If you go missing, no one would look for the fuckin’ stain.” A hint of his accent appeared, the more deeply he blustered the hostage.

He inched closer to Hassan’s face, as the 141 watched in anticipation. “Where are the missiles going? You can start talking… Or become a part of the food chain.” Graves snarled. His voice echoed in the vastness of the wilderness.

Hassan wasn’t going to budge - and you expected as such.

Graves approached the laptop sitting on the hood of the truck beside him, virtually facing General Shepard. “Actual, let me finish this.” He pleaded his palms flat on the car.

“Without proof, we need to cut him loose, and see where Hassan leads us,” Shepard spoke, sounding just as disgruntled as the looks written on your colleague's faces.

Soap shook his head in disbelief, stepping forward. “You can’t be serious, Shepard. He’s right here.”

Unfortunately, rules were rules—even if you did want to execute the man yourself.

“This pissing match is getting us nowhere, Price.” You uttered to him. “He’s too hellbent on making us bleed to give us anything.” You gripped the collar of your vest in frustration.

Price nodded in agreement, tightening his brows at the headache this was causing him.

You burned your gaze into Graves’ back as you strode back to the car. Graves was going to be a problem, you already knew it.

You looked Ghost in the eyes as you passed him, opening up the car door, “I don’t like arrogance. It causes mistakes.”

Ghost’s eyes snapped back, giving you a scowl in response.

—

You’re perched on the rooftop alongside Soap, Graves, and Ghost, overlooking a large adobo-style mansion a few meters back.

“La Casa de Sin Nombre?” Soap inquired, squinting as he examined the building.

“No. One of his Lugartenientes.” Alejandro handed the binoculars to him, letting him see for himself.

The lights on inside the house looked like a lone star circling through the black hole that was the night sky.

A cartel lieutenant - one rank closer to your target.

Alejandro explains that the party will be full of cartel VIPs. It would be risky, but there was no other way to get this close. Your stomach drops at his words.

This wasn’t a celebration - it was a meeting disguised as a party.

The cartel is privy to your squad being in Las Almas, and it’s very clear you’re not welcome.

“Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?” Ghost finally utters a sentence. You almost forgot he was there entirely, and those were blissfully ignorant moments.

Alejandro shakes his head, keeping his mild demeanor. “No guarantees, but it’s our best shot. We go in carefully.”

Graves cocks his head to the side and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “I’ve got enough Shadows to take over the damn country. One house shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We need Sin Nombre alive.” Ghost retorts. It’s as if nothing anyone said could get through Graves’ thick skull. If you’re in the line of fire, he was not the man you wanted beside you.

Graves ignores Ghost’s tone and speaks again, “Well… Then we need to meet him.”

If it wasn’t obvious, you would’ve kept the scorn on your face visible to Graves. Terrorists were one thing, but the cartel was a deadlier force. This was far out of your element.

“Give them what they want. Intel.” He states matter-of-a-factly. “They wanna know who’s here. Let’s tell ‘em—in person.” His confidence only showed because he wasn’t going to be the one in the hot seat.

It was clear Graves never spent his days getting dirty—he just commanded others to get dirtier.

You knew what he was implying, and every part of you wanted to protest. However, you came here to assist, so that’s what you were going to do.

“Get someone inside, find the boss…” Graves put his palms together and scanned the group before him.

You felt your throat tighten at the thought. Graves looked at you a bit longer than the others, like he was about to volunteer you. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was in the path ahead of you.

“I’ll do it.” Soap’s words were music to your ears. But deep inside, you realized he would now be at risk, face-to-face with the biggest cartel players.

“You go in there and they’ll kill you, hermano,” Alejandro spoke, staring at Soap’s unusually calm comportment.

“I’ll take my chances. We came here to stop a missile, so let’s stop it.” His tone grew stronger. He was right.

Tough decisions plagued each of your colleagues every day. Learning to accept the fact that it might be your last one was just another lesson to learn.

You took a deep breath, giving Soap a look of esteem. He didn’t need to do this, but he was ready to save countless innocent lives at the drop of a hat.

Alejandro spoke once more, “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. You’ll need eyes and ears, I’ll go too.”

Following, Ghost spoke, “I’ll take overwatch.”

“You,” A firm hand reached for your shoulder.

Your throat closed as you circled around, seeing the smirk tease at the corner of Graves�� mouth. “I want you in there with him, too.” He motioned toward Soap, whose lips formed a scowl.

Ghost hid any semblance of change to his face, but his eyes didn’t lie. You knew better than anyone when he was disturbed by something—and the decision to send you in disturbed him.

You were too busy digging your nails into the palm of your hand to notice. The fist clenched at your side couldn’t get any tighter.

At first, it was a simple dislike for Graves. But now, it was complete distaste.

“She ain’t going in there with me.” Soap retorted defensively, puffing out his chest at Graves.

You admired the gesture, but you weren’t going to curl into a ball and hide from this.

Showing weakness enables men like Graves to win. You weren’t going to allow that as you were still breathing.

You nudged Soap with your knuckle and gave him a nod to stand down.

“It’s too late to argue about this, I’m going in there.” Your eyes flicked to Graves, who almost looked shocked you didn’t fight him. That two-fisted look in his eyes only fueled your need to prove him wrong, even if took some small victories to chip away over time.

—

You fiddled with the Shadow patch Graves handed you as if it was a foolproof way to not get a bullet in your head. You begged to differ on that. It wasn’t going to be so simple.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” Soap questioned, meeting your gaze.

You nodded, stuffing the patch into your shirt pocket. “Graves is just trying to show us how big he is. I don’t mind giving him what he wants.” You stated imprudently, walking down the hill with your partner side by side.

“Shadows on the station.” Graves chirped through your earpieces.

“Copy. All set here.” Ghost spouted, placed somewhere with his sights aimed at the guards roaming the property.

The both of you made it to the beginning of the driveway, hesitantly trudging down further.

“Alejandro, how you doin’?” Their radio chatter continued.

Both of you were a little more concerned with being inches from the cartel, so it blended into the music booming through the walls. The only saving grace was Alejandro waiting for the two of you. He, you could tolerate.

Ghost’s scope trailed the two of you as you approached the two armed men at the gate, both of them concealing their faces through ski masks. They could snuff you out right here, right now, and there was nothing Ghost could do to prevent it. That undeniably weighed on him.

You both raised your hands in surrender as they spotted you, instantly rushing over and questioning your presence. The both of you stuck out like sore thumbs in a place like this.

You fluttered your eyelids shut and kept your composure. You were trained for situations like this, you needed to act like it.

The guard on Soap’s side smashed the butt of his SMG into the back of his leg, forcing him to his knees. You were shoved harshly into the same position, your knees digging into the rigid cement. Both of you placed your hands on the back of your head, waiting for the next move.

At least they didn’t shoot us on the spot, the thought ran through your head. You glanced at Soap briefly, giving him a slightly unglued look, which you were trying desperately to hide.

The guard spoke into the headset, poised for his orders.

In a matter of seconds, you had a sack over your head and zip ties around your wrists. Both of you were being escorted inside, with the barrels of their guns digging into your shoulder blades.

You heard the ding of an elevator. As the sound of the door scraping shut ended, the sack was ripped from your heads.

“Alejandro…?” You asked in a hushed voice. You recognized the eyes showing through the holes of the mask he was wearing.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. “No time—give them the good intel in there. Don’t lie, tell them everything they want to know or you’ll die here. Mexican Special Forces, American PMCs, Shadow Company, and Philip Graves.” You give a simple nod, and so does Soap.

You prepared yourself for whoever would be facing you when you reached the basement level. Would it be El Sin Nombre?

The doors whirred open, revealing a bald man dressed in typical Cartel boss streetwear. Colorful button-down, a gold chain hanging around his neck, and most importantly, two holsters with two very loaded pistols.

He looked the both of you up and down as if sizing you up. His eyes stayed on you a little longer than Soap, which you noticed immediately. “These are the two who came to crash the party?” He spoke rhetorically. Alejandro nodded, passing you both along to him.

“You got a name, hawk?” His gaze shifted to the man standing beside you. You gulped as you hid halfway behind him, trying not to attract the wrong attention.

“They call me Soap.”

The captor guffaws dryly as he utters something in Spanish to Alejandro, something you couldn’t catch. You guessed it had to do with Soap’s name. It’s better he’s laughing at a name than your defiled corpses, so you’ll take what you can get here.

“I want to see El Sin Nombre.” You felt your muscles tighten, wanting to smack Soap upside the head. Neither of you was in a position to make demands.

Soap’s collar is gripped tightly by the man, who was growing curter by the second. “You’re only alive because you may have some information.”

The ties dug into the soft skin around your wrists as you tensed your fists.

He holds a finger up to Soap’s face, “And it better be good, Guero, or I’m going to scalp that hawk off your head, and make her watch.”

Your jaw tightened at the gruesome picture replaying in your head. Soap needed to be more careful with his words, as much as he desired to play the Tough Guy act. His stare grew defensive as you were shoved into a walk again, following the way the stone walls guided you.

You followed behind Soap, who was following the captor. “This is my house… That means you don’t see the boss until I say so. You don’t speak unless spoken to. And mas importante—tell the fucking truth. Cause if you lie? I’ll feed you to my dogs.”

His words were received loud and clear by you, and you could tell Soap understood as well.

Alejandro was right about one thing so far… The only weapon you needed to get out of this alive was the truth.

The door to the room you were being led to opened. A young woman, fashioning a short bob and a black tank top was stood there.

“Valeria. Two more, one gringo, one girl.”

“Sit down,” Valeria said with an icy glare, sharply examining the both of you as you were both shoved inside.

There were other men down there, some dead, others struggling against their restraints in torment. Based on the bloody tarps spread out below the chairs, you put together the pieces.

You did as your told, and landed yourself face to face with her. Soap, she was not phased by, but you, she was. You were probably the only other woman in the house aside from the dancing girls.

She stepped toward the man from the elevator. “They say they have information.”

She shoves him to the floor and holds a large blade to his neck, “we don’t know either of them, and they’ve seen our faces, Diego!” She bellowed, digging her painted nails into his chin from behind.

“We need intel—they could help us,” he struggled against her grip slightly, but he was obviously submitting himself to her. You found it strange. When you first saw Diego, he carried the demeanor of a boss and even looked the part.

But here he was, on his knees with a knife to his throat. Valeria played a bigger part in all of this, you knew that for certain.

“They better… Or I kill them—and it’s you in that chair.” She didn’t need to get into specifics to instill fear in those around her. She knew what to say, and just how to say it. You couldn’t screw this up if you wanted any chance of walking out of here.

“Who attacked us yesterday?” She turned her attention to Soap, keeping her pistol drawn at her side.

“It was the Mexican army.” He spoke plainly, looking deeply into her bitter eyes as if to ensure she believes him. “No. It was Mexican Special Forces.” Soap’s backtracking sets back any trust she had in his credibility.

Valeria swings her pistol and whips him in the forehead. Soap winced afterward, blinking away the blood running down his brow bone. “Fuck up again, and you’ll be drifting home in pieces.”

You didn’t doubt that threat for a second. You didn’t doubt how much pleasure she would take in doing it either.

Now, done with questioning Soap, she put her attention on you. “There were outsides helping the Special Forces. Who were they?”

Alejandro’s instructions replayed through your head as she waited for your response.

“American PMCs… Shadow Company, led by Commander Philip Graves. The proof is in my pocket.” You kept your voice as steady as possible, making sure it was clear you weren’t going to make the same mistakes as Soap.

She fingered through your shirt pocket and pulled it out, seeing the logo etched inside the patch of fabric. She looked pleased, which was at least a step up from her usual scowl.

She places the pistol back into her holster and pulls out the same blade she had digging into Diego only moments ago. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched the reflection of the sharp metal bounce of the fluorescent lighting.

With a quick slash, she sliced through the ties, freeing up your tender hands.

“El Sin Nombre will enjoy talking to you.” She grabbed your shoulder and forced you to your feet, a sinister smirk engulfing any confidence you had left.

You jerked your head backward and gave one last glance at Soap, which had an expression of worry so deep you hadn’t seen before.

You had a feeling you weren’t going to have a civil sit down with whoever he was, and then be free to go, to blabber to anyone you pleased. There was something behind that smirk, something you needed to brace yourself for.

You were brought to the top level of the house, and shoved into what looked like a meeting room, but fancier than any you’d ever been in before. One large table, but only a few chairs—only the highest up in the cartel were allowed in here.

You rubbed your bruised wrists as you looked around the room, expecting anything by this point. Did she kill Soap already? Was he being tortured at this very moment?

You reached for your earpiece, which was still filling your ear with gentle static.

It pained you to speak with him, but you needed the reassurance of his voice. “Ghost, how copy?”

“Quiet here. You still alive down there?” You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic tone, knowing the exact expression he probably had while saying that.

Your breathing hitched when the door behind you opened, making you act natural, as if you hadn’t been wearing an earpiece during this entire ordeal.

It was Diego, from the basement. He wasn’t El Sin Nombre, that was blatantly clear. What was the point of this?

Your eyes darted around the room, hoping to spot anything you could use if this went unsavory.

At least you had Ghost in your ear, to be a witness to anything that might happen in this room. Your sudden silence made his stomach tighten. He could sense something was wrong, and he couldn’t do anything to prevent it.

“Relax.” His demeanor made your hairs stand up.

“Valeria wanted me to keep you company… But why keep lying to each other? You know she’s not some ‘Sicaria’… You’ve figured it out.” He taunted you, and he was right.

But you don’t just see the face of a cartel boss and walk away unscathed—things didn’t work that way.

He grabbed the back of your head, digging his fingertips into your scalp. You were slammed into the large oak table, palms parallel to each side of your head.

“I bet you think you know it all, huh? Is that why you came in with Hawk? To keep him from getting himself killed?” You gritted your teeth at the condescending mention of Soap, and swung your elbow backward, nailing him in the ribs.

You flipped around and inched your hand toward the porcelain ashtray, using all your force to bash the side of his head with it. He stumbled backward, holding the gaping wound he now displayed.

He tilted his head upright, giving you a devilish eye. “You fucking bitch.”

His speed overtook you, forcing the both of you to the ground.

You clawed at him, finding any way to weaken him, but it was difficult without any of your gear at the ready. He returned the grip he had on your hair earlier and used it to thump your head into the ground, attempting to stun you. Your defenses slowed, but they didn’t stop.

You were running off pure adrenaline. You clocked him on the temple, giving him three harsh wacks while using the force of your entire upper body, just like Ghost instructed you weeks ago.

His grasp weakened as your fist only irritated the laceration you gave him before, tearing open more of the skin.

The look of pure rage on his face didn’t diminish, even though his energy was beginning to.

He wrapped his large hands around your throat, squeezing with what strength he had left in him. Your legs were pinned with his knees, giving you no out.

You banged against his chest, pulling at the chain around his neck, but nothing would stop him.

One moment the last of your oxygen is being squeezed out of you, and in the next, you’re drenched in his crimson liquid.

The splatter cast all around you, and he was a dead weight laying on top of you. A leather boot kicks him off of you, relieving the strain he was putting on your bones.

Behind the smoking gun, was Valeria.

You choked in a breath, holding onto your burning throat with one hand, the other held up to the gun she’s holding—as if in one ditch effort to save yourself. You didn’t have any more fight in you after that.

That smirk returned as she holstered her pistol.

“Hope you didn’t mind. Had to make him feel big and strong before I got rid of him. Diego was always a pain.” She raised her hand and slowly wiped the blood spot that splashed onto her cheek.

Her eyes always seemed to be dug deep within you, like she had some sort of carnal feeling for you.

You sat there in disbelief, rethinking everything that led you to this moment. You were both the unluckiest and luckiest person on the planet right now.

“Your friends will be coming for me soon. It’s been a pleasure, Cariña.” She peered out the window, hearing the approaching chopper.

She rushed out the door to give Alejandro one more game of cat and mouse that this time, she knew she was going to lose.

Ghost’s voice coming through the earpiece startled you out of your speechlessness. “How copy? Are you alive?” His voice was frantic instead of sarcastic like the previous time.

He heard every bit of what Diego said, and the fray you got into with him. And through it all, you had barely made a sound.

For all he knew, you were laying in a pool of your own blood.

“Copy. Room is clear for now.” You croaked out, fighting the burning sensation that was filling your bruised throat.

You struggled to your feet, using the marble fireplace to pull yourself up.

You placed a palm on the ache your lower stomach had, from where it was digging into the table, and limped out to the roof, where Valeria was being secured.

Somehow, someway, Alejandro and Soap were also standing there, in better shape than you.

You approached Alejandro, swallowing away your discomfort.

“How did you get him out? I thought for sure he was…” You motioned your head to Soap, trailing off your sentence in bewilderment.

He shook his head, noticing how relieved you looked to see your friend alive, and so did Soap. How he managed it, you won’t ever know.

You just cared that you finally had the target your team had been chasing for months, even if the price were you receiving some knocks.

Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, scanning you for any worse injuries than what he could spot at first glance. “You fought a cartel Lieutenant, and you’re standing in front of me? What are we going to do with you?” He questioned playfully, climbing into the helicopter after helping you step inside.

Price’s eyes lit up when he saw you get inside.

“Thought we lost you, Private.” His tone was gentle, like a father comforting his child that fell off his bike.

You leaned your head back against the headrest of the seat, taking a deep sigh.

No one was injured, the target was secure, and you didn’t have the energy to kill Ghost at that very moment—for you, that was the closest you were going to get to a win.

“Next time you get into a brawl, you could at least give me an inch first.” Ghost stated, keeping his stoic composure as placed a bandage on your forehead.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I think about bashing your face in.” You peeked through the eye that was facing him, keeping your tone low.

You were partially serious, and he knew it.

TAGLIST: @neoarchipelago @ghostlythots @gothgirl6-6-6 @cloudyyjanee

#simon riley x reader #mw2 #simon riley #mw2 fanfic #ghost mw2 #task force 141 #call of duty

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

Text

Flyboy (Part 6) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: food / eating (one mention of the phrase “you are eating too little”); general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies; geographical inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Well, Part 6 is here……. I don’t know what to say; but I teared writing this at some point, and I am insanely nervous (Idk why) about posting this, so please let me know your thoughts? We still have the Epilogue, so this baby is not done. I have blurbs / one shots / Flyboy asks that will follow - I’m not sure if the taglist wants to be tagged in the blurbs / one shots that are original (i.e. not asks), please let me know?

As usual, THANK YOU ALL <3 for loving Flyboy, I LIVE for your comments, tags, reblogs, and it has been an utmost pleasure reading them. KISSING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist (If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 6

PART 5 <<

Approximately 6.4k words

“Sooo,” the sound of Phoenix’s voice catches you off guard, and you jump as you straighten up from the bend you had been in, in your attempt to reach towards the back of Penny’s fridge to grab four bottles of beer, spinning around to face her.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.” You say, and she smiles, almost too sweetly as she helps you shut the fridge grabbing two of the beer bottles you had wedged between the fingers of one hand from you.

“You and Hangman,” she says pointedly, staring intently at you.

“What about it?” You question, trying to be as casual as possible, while you pull open one of Penny’s drawers, searching for a bottle opener.

“Is something going on,” she leans against the counter of the kitchen, forcing you to look directly at her. Truth to be told, you and Jake had hid it pretty well. Perhaps not to Penny, Mav, or any other third party who saw you both together, but to the clueless bunch of Naval Aviators who, despite being the few to spend the most time with you both, had not made much of it.

The physical tells were something they hadn’t made much of to begin with, a sure result of having seen Jake flirt his way through too many women and situations over the years. However, the near fight at The Hard Deck where they had seen him at his most protective ever, pure, white hot rage radiating off him - only for you to dispel it so easily, coupled with the subtle, but sure shifts in Jake’s demeanour, had started to arouse suspicion.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” she continues.

In all the years since she had known Jake, Phoenix had never seen him this way - more at ease, more open, happier. It wasn’t to say that his personality with the rest of them had changed drastically, Jake Seresin, was still very much Hangman, boisterous, confident, cocky (particularly in the air), always ready for a challenge, to show and tell that he was better than you, and to say whatever the hell he wanted, but he was also different, somehow happier, with the undercurrent of an unobvious calm and peace to him that they could just feel. It was unnerving to say the least, because it wasn’t something they had seen before, were used to, or had ever known Jake to be.

Bob had noticed it first, the Monday after the week Jake had cancelled fried chicken Friday, after days of sharp but silent observation. It had resulted in Bob telling Phoenix, who then told Rooster, who had went on to relay the message collectively to Coyote, Payback and Fanboy. A group decision was made one afternoon by way of a show of open hands or fists, resulting in Phoenix being the chosen messenger to broad the subject with you.

The difference in Jake had managed to be both outwardly noticeable, and yet not, all at the same time. On the surface, Jake was still Jake, swagger in his step when he walked around TOPGUIN, extolling his own virtues, taking little joking digs at all of them when he could, particularly when they were in the air - “C’mon Rooster, thought the chicken finally learnt to fly.” / “Trace, what does the baby on board in your backseat see?” / “Try to keep up Trace.” / “Aaand, the Relic is off the ground, that ladies and gentleman is called a Pete Mitchell” / “Payback? You mean the thing you can’t dish?” - but come dinner, when they had trooped back home and to you, Jake was somehow different.

The comments were still there - “Sorry boys and girls, I know it must be tough trying to match up to me.” / “Like how Trace and her baby on board fumbled today.” / “Thought Bradshaw was trying to hatch some eggs with the amount of time he was nesting.” / “Garcia and Fitch are always just taking it.” - but at the same time, Jake’s smile was wider, genuinely hitting his eyes and making his greens sparkle; his laugh louder, natural with nothing held back; his body language more open, any tension that he held during the day seemingly having melted away.

More importantly, as they had all come to notice, Jake never left you behind - whether it was purposefully falling behind everyone to bring up the rear just so he could fall in step with you; watching you out of the peripherals of his eyes the moment you left his side at The Hard Deck, right up to the moment you returned just to make sure that you weren’t waylaid by unwanted attention; or even the simplest act of making sure your order never got lost among the barrage of orders of the group; or that you were never cut out, lost or disengaged in the conversation when it dragged on to more Navy-orientated topics which you weren’t as familiar with.

Sure, Pheonix and Bob had caught sight of you and Jake running around the compound one Saturday afternoon, with him sprinting ahead in the last stretch in absolute glee, you yelling at him while trying to catch up, leaving you, quite literally, behind and in his dust - but even then, they had seen with his own eyes, Jake Seresin standing at the finish point, eyes fixed solely on you, waiting for you to meet him, as you yelled and protested your way to the end.

You pull the bottle opener out from the drawer, popping open the caps of the bottles in her hands, and then in yours, before dropping it back, and pushing the drawer shut with a hip. You beckon to Phoenix to exit back out into Penny’s backyard with you to rejoin the group and she follows, her question still hanging in between you both.

You step back out into Penny’s backyard, the cool evening air hitting your skin, your eyes meeting briefly with Jake’s as he looks up in the middle of his conversation with Rooster.

“You’ve only seen Hangman before,” you finally say, you both still out of earshot from the group, before you take a few steps towards the table, “now you get to see Jake.”

She opens her mouth to push her question again, determined to draw out a clear answer or confession from you, only for Jake’s voice to cut in above the chatter, making Rooster turn his neck to glance at the both of you as you return.

“Trace, you got that dog with a bone look on your face,” he starts, “do I have to take you out for harassing my girl?” Jake’s voice is loud enough that it carries across the table, pausing the chatter among the group for a second.

You feel your face heat as you hand a beer bottle off to Bob who receives it with a “thanks”, as he exchanges a look with Fanboy who is seated across the rectangle shaped table, before you settle back into the chair flanked by Jake, and Coyote who is waggling an eyebrow at Payback.

You see a smug, triumphant grin on Phoenix’s face, her question finally answered, as she hands one of the bottles to Rooster before sliding back into her seat beside him.

“Finally,” Penny breaks the moment of silence, throwing up her hands at the confirmation of what she knew, but had been waiting for, for the longest time, Amelia grinning wildly beside her.

“Hear, hear.” Mav raises his beer, to which Bob also does, and the group follows, cheers erupting from Penny’s backyard.

The attention makes you groan, and you hide your face in your hands, turning your body into Jake’s. You had talked about it after the other night at The Hard Deck, and had decided that it was time for the rest to know, directly from you both. You can hear the rumble of his own laughter in his chest, Jake clearly unfazed and not the slightest bit embarrassed at the attention, as he snakes an arm around your shoulders, securing you against him. It only makes the cheers louder, with Coyote sending a loud wolf whistle your way.

“Uncle Jake!” The roar of a little voice greets you both as you step through the doors and into the lobby of the hotel. You see a small blonde head sprinting at top speed towards you both, barrelling itself into Jake’s arms which had opened just in time to catch him.

“All this excitement just for me?” Jake exclaims back as he swings his nephew, Kyle, around in the air, before squeezing him tightly against his chest, only for the little boy to squirm in delight.

You see Emma, Jake’s older sister approach, her husband, Liam, and toddler Layla, approach.

“Full attire, really, Jake?” She scoffs taking in Jake’s uniform, but clearly teasing, as she takes reaches out to hug you hello, before coming to a stand in front of her brother.

“Not all of us are on vacation,” Jake shoots back as he sets Kyle down on his feet, before the siblings embrace each other, “some of us still have to work.”

“You only wear it for the looks you get,” Emma retorts with a snort, but being well aware that he had just come from work, as Jake and Liam thump each other on the back in a hug, before Liam reaches out to hug you hello as well.

“Well you gotta agree, I look good.” Jake smirks, not missing a beat, while bending to pick Layla off the ground, hoisting her in an arm and tickling her belly, the toddler shrieking with glee. “Can’t deprive the world of all this now, can we?” He coos the question at Layla who only giggles, patting her uncle’s cheek with her hand.

“I don’t know how you put up with him,” she looks at you as you ruffle Kyle’s hair in a hello, the boy beaming up at you, before slipping his hand into yours, tugging you around in a circle in his excitement.

“None of us do,” the familiar voice of grandma Doris interjects as she and Grace Seresin née Walton, walk into view.

“She’s too sweet to be putting up with your brother,” Grace chimes in, with a glance to her son, who just shrugs, a lazy, self-assured smirk plastered to his face.

Emma tugs Kyle out of your hands, for grandma Doris and Grace to greet you with hugs of their own, before they move onto Jake, who embraces them each with an arm, Layla still nestled happily in his other, her head resting between the crook of his neck, thumb now in her mouth.

“Thank you,” Emma grabs your hands in an exaggerated fashion, clutching them dramatically as she throws a look to Jake, “for putting up with my brother’s clown ass.”

The words coming out from Emma, a grown woman, with perfectly coiffed hair, and designer clothes and shoes that cut a stylish figure, makes you burst out in laughter.

“Just doing my bit of charity for the world.” You manage to say, before grandma Doris links an arm with yours, pulling you towards the door of the lobby, a signal for the rest to follow.

“I’ll cut him out of my will and put you in,” she tells you in a loud stage whisper. You don’t turn back, but if you did, you would have seen Jake grinning broadly, a fond look in his eyes, his niece still cuddled up against him, as he takes in the sight of you and his grandmother walking arm in arm.

“You know,” you turn to face Emma at the sound of her voice, clearly directed at you, “he cares about you.”

You both are seated at the end of a table, in the corner of the hotel lobby’, watching as the other members of your party are crowded around the massive cake display case to a side, Layla in her Grace’s arms, and Kyle in Jake’s, Liam and grandma Doris flanking them, as the children attempt to decide which sweet treat to pick.

“I know,” you say, small smile on your lips, as you focus on Jake, before looking back at her.

You and Jake had been mindful of yourselves around the Seresins, not because it would have been an issue, but because you had insisted on not wanting to overshadow their time together with Jake. He had tried to convince you that there wouldn’t have been any overshadowing involved, but you had, with a little help of your hands and mouth, had managed to capture his undivided attention, and be extremely persuasive, to which Jake relented. You weren’t sure if Emma knew, or suspected at the very least. You had always known her to be astute.

“He would probably kill me if I told you this,” she begins, as she leans back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap, “but slightly over three years ago, when you had told him about Dan, that guy you were seeing, he was noticeably…” she pauses, searching for the right words to use, “worked up.”

“I didn’t know,” you start, as you find your gaze wandering back to Jake who is now squatting beside Kyle, both blondes peering into the bottom layer of the display case. “He never said.”

“We were both home during that period,” she recalls, “and staying with grandma, and I found him in the gym abusing a punching bag. His knuckles were raw, eyes like a man crazed.”

She pauses, as you look back to her before continuing.

“I had Kyle with me, he was still just a toddler at that point, and it took him crying for Jake to stop. He told me, quite angrily I might add, that Dan wasn’t good enough for you”, she says as she unfolds her hands from her lap to reach out to squeeze your forearm, “and you deserved so much more.”

She meets your gaze, squeezing your forearm gently again, before adding after a moment of consideration, “I think he meant himself.”

Her words make your jaw slacken, your lips part slightly, as you remember Jake’s words in the car from the other day when he had only said “less so” since you had started seeing Dan.

“My brother can be a dick to a lot of people,” she starts again, a rueful shake of her head, “but not to you, never to you. He’ll never hurt you.” Emma says as she offers you a final smile, as you hear the voices of the group returning to the table.

“We got chocolate and a red velvet,” Jake says, as he slides back into the chair beside you, Kyle clamouring from his lap into yours. He finds you looking at him curiously, a strange expression on his face and he tilts his head to a side, asking silently if you are ok, before darting his gaze to Emma who immediately turns her attention to Liam.

You nod, with a slight tilt of your ahead, signalling that you are fine before you turn your attention back to Kyle who is describing to you, in vivid detail the chocolate cake that he chose.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?” Jake asks you for the tenth time since you had both left the house, “you’re already in the car.”

“I don’t,” you shake your head as you watch him glance out the side mirror, checking for cars, before he makes the turn. “You should spend some time alone with them before they go back.”

It had been a Seresin filled week, with you spending almost all of your time with grandma Doris, Grace, Emma, Liam, Kyle and Layla during the days, with Jake joining the group only in the evening once he had managed to get out of work. He had however, managed to spend an entire full day with the group yesterday, a Saturday, which largely comprise of him and Liam, chasing Kyle and Layla around the beach, while you, Emma, Doris and Grace watched on, chatting idly.

Emma and her family had left earlier in the morning, but his mother and grandmother who had booked themselves into a later flight, scheduled only for the late afternoon, had asked Jake to meet them for breakfast.

Jake opens his mouth to say something as he glances at you, and you shake your head again, pre-empting his response, your tone firm.

“No Jake, they deserve your undivided attention.” You knew you were always welcome with the Seresins, but you had wanted to give grandmother Doris, Grace and Jake the time they deserved together. You hadn’t made mention of it to Jake, but had gathered from their previous trip to see you in New York (sans Jake), that they missed Jake more than they cared to let on. It wasn’t easy having a grandson and son far from you; what more one that was a Naval Aviator who could be deployed for 6 months, to an undisclosed location at the drop of a hat. You had missed Jake yourself, worried about him during his stints of deployment over the years, even if were both already separated by state, so it was easy for you to empathise.

The seriousness to your voice makes him shut his mouth, choosing instead to reach across the center console and place a hand on your thigh, fingers squeezing lightly in understanding.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” You ask, and Jake shakes his head no.

He had sent his truck off to the workshop, only to have it grounded for a couple of days. You had tried to strong arm him into taking your car, seeing that he was due back to TOPGUN for an afternoon of flights, despite having been able to wrangle a few hours off to spend with his mother and grandmother before they left, but Jake Seresin, if anything, was a stubborn man, who had refused, not wanting to leave you inconvenienced. You had both reached a comprise, being that he would drop himself off to meet the Seresins, and grandma Doris would get her car to drop Jake back at TOPGUN before she left. It wasn’t the smartest solution, but it was the most he would budge on it.

He pulls up kerbside, in front of the hotel his grandmother and mother were staying in and shifts the car into park. You both exit, and Jake waits for you beside the door of the driver’s side, holding the door open, while you step in and up into the seat and buckle yourself in.

“See you later?” He asks, a rhetoric question, but you nod anyway and he kisses you swiftly on the corner of your lips before shutting the door on you and jogging over to the kerb. You duck your head to peer out of the window on the passenger’s side and he winks at you. You press a kiss to your fingers, blowing it at him, and it earns you a wide smile, the sides of his eyes crinkling. You let yourself take it in, Jake smiling, with his hair combed back, uniform hugging him in the right places, before you lift a hand in a wave and drive off, thinking to yourself, god was he handsome.

“You’re eating too little.” Grandma Doris asks, eyeing the bowl of yogurt, and granola in front of her grandson.

“Don’t want to be throwing up mid flight.” He explains before popping the spoon into his mouth. “I’ll have more for dinner.”

She hums in acknowledgement, settling back into her chair, while taking a sip from her tea cup, eyes studying her grandson.

“So,” she starts casually, almost too casually for her, and it makes Jake drop his spoon as he leans back to take her in, “were you planning on keeping your poor grandmother in the dark forever?”

Jake knows what she is referring to, but opts for raising brow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“That you both finally became more than just friends.” Grandma Doris stretches out the word finally, and Jake raises his glass to his lips, but his smile is barely covered.

“What gave it away?” He asks, after taking a gulp of water and setting his glass down.

“You did be blind not to know,” Grace scoffs, taking a sip of coffee. You both had hid it well, but a mother always knew her son.

The relationship you and Jake had, was something that had always been special - he was more himself around you, more the Jake that Grace had knew, loved and known from the first day she had held him in her arms, and you, well, you somehow managed to tolerate him, during the good and the bad, accepting him for both his good and bad; but this time, this was different.

Grace had always seen a glimpse of something more in her son’s eyes when he looked to you, only when he knew that you weren’t watching, but this time - she had seen it in his eyes, when he had looked directly at you, and had seen you meet his gaze with the exact same look, of equal intensity in your eyes. She had seen the quiet, content, smile that flickered briefly across both your features, and she just knew.

Her suspicions had been confirmed the night before when Grace’s own mother had nudged her and motioned out the window of the hotel lobby, both of them watching, just in time to catch you run a finger over the the sunburn blooming along the bridge of Jake’s nose, laughing about something they couldn’t hear, to which Jake only reached out to pull you towards him, your face colliding with his chest, body shaking with laughter as he planted his lips on the top of your hair, while saying something that caused your shoulders to shake even more.

“Weeks,” he says vaguely, not bothering to count the detailed specifics, not because Jake didn’t care, but because he didn’t need to with you - not when he was sure you were his forever. He had expressed outrightly that you were his girl - because even when you hadn’t been, you had somehow, always been his in one way or another - and Jake hadn’t asked you explicitly, the question of “will you be my girlfriend?”, but it hadn’t mattered to either of you; the question seemingly unimportant and trivial, when you both already just knew.

Grandma Doris observes grandson from her perch across the table, the light in his eyes that she had always saw when he looked at you had finally come to the front, and it was dazzling. She places down her teacup, fingers of her right hand working to slide the ring she had the fourth finger of her right hand off. It was the simplest of the rings which adorned her fingers, a plain band, holding a single jewel, with the words “timeless” scratched onto the inside of the band, the engraving now dulled from years of wear, but still visible. She places it on the table in front of Jake, who looks down at it, and up again at his grandmother in surprise. He had never seen her take it off since he could remember.

“Give it to her,” she says simply, the implication behind her words clear - marry her. To anyone else, it might have been strange, but grandma Doris understood, it was Jake and you - she had watched quietly, as you both danced around each other for years. “There isn’t any reason to wait when you’ve already known something your whole life.” She say simply.

Jake picks up the ring, flipping it in his fingers, running the pad of his thumb over the engraving on the inner band, before reaching into the shirt of his uniform, tugging out the chain with his dog tags, before undoing it and stringing the ring on.

“Well, this is me,” Jake bends down and kisses Grace’s cheek while engulfing her in a hug.

“Come back home soon,” Grace orders and Jake raises a hand to his head to giver her a mini salute.

“Yes M’am.”

“Everyone misses you,” his grandmother says as Jake bends in turn to hug her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Your grandfather and father miss you.” His mother says, and Jake meets her gaze in understanding with a small tip of his chin.

Jake stands back, with a last wave, watching as his mother and grandmother enter the car, before the driver shuts the door.

Tash: Your man is an idiot.

You swipe open the message from Phoenix to come face to face with a picture of Jake and Rooster’s side view, each man decked out in their flight suit, sunglasses on their face, middle fingers flipped up at each other. It makes you roll your eyes as you shoot back a text.

Is Bradley an idiot as well?

She replies almost instantly.

Tash: The biggest.

You grin, shooting back a reply.

Lies. By the way, do you know what time you’ll be done? My idiot needs a pick up.

Tash: Come now, I’ll get Mav to abuse his “power” and sign you in.

“I’m not betting those 200 push ups today,” Fanboy’s voice crackles over the comms as the three planes, him and Payback, Mav and Jake push through the air. It was the last scheduled flight of the day, not entirely necessary because there weren’t any trainees scheduled into the slot, but it hadn’t stopped the four men from jumping into the plans to run the same training simulation of the day. Mav’s time old favourite, dogfighting - two against one.

It earns a laugh from Mav, and Jake snorts.

“C’mon boys, wussing out?” Jake drawls over his comms as he levels his jet with Fanboy and Payback, grinning out the window towards the two. It earns him double middle fingers from the duo.

“I’m not letting you hang us out to dry, Hangman.” Payback says disgruntled. It was undeniable that Jake had proven himself to be a team player from the uranium mission, but it didn’t change the fact that Hangman, being Hangman, still enjoyed blazing his own trail, particularly during simulations such as this where a run was just a run, and nothing was at stake. He would have them eating his dust whenever he could.

“How about a beer instead boys?” Mav asks, grinning lazily out of the window of his jet.

“I could live with that,” Payback jumps and latches onto the lower stakes, before clarifying the safety of his own wallet, “just among us four.”

“Game on,” Jake hooks his mask to his face.

True to her word, and you are not entirely sure how, Phoenix gets you signed into TOPGUN, meeting you at the guard house, and jumping into your car, directing you onward. She ends up leading you towards the control room, which she informs you, is filled with themselves and the trainee group today due to the afternoon long simulation flights they had been running. She scans her pass against the electronic lock and holds open the door for you while gesturing you in. You slip into the control room ducking your way past a few trainees, to come to a stand beside Hondo, who is flanked on his other side by Rooster and Bob.

“What did I miss?” Pheonix asks, and Hondo points towards the screen.

“They just bet Mav a round of beers if they beat him.”

“Do we all benefit?” Phoenix asks, hopefully.

“Payback made it very clear that it’s just between them.” Hondo grins, and it earns a dismissive snort from Phoenix

You can’t see the Naval Aviators up in the air, apart from the diagrams of little jets beeping on the radar alongside a counter, and a whole host of numbers you don’t understand; but you can hear them over the speakers in the control room, the sounds of breathing, and chatter.

“Where is he?” Payback asks.

“I can’t see him,” Fanboy.

“Probably hiding beneath us,” you hear Jake, “old man never changes his tactics.” He says, a jab at Mav, and the tone of his voice, makes you shake your head slightly; even you knew, to someone who didn’t know any better or who wasn’t used to him, Jake could very well rub people he didn’t know well the wrong way with his words.

You hear a set of three yells and curses, as Mav’s diagram reappears on radar, a set of numbers alongside the screen rapidly jumping as Mav angles his jet to shoot up between the other two.

“And yet, this old man’s tactics work every time.”

It earns a fist pump from Hondo, and you lean over towards the older man.

“Does he truly do that every time?”

“Works like a charm,” Hondo says, leaning back over to you simultaneously, headset still nestled in his ear, with a nod of his head.

“And they don’t learn?” You ask in slight disbelief at the fact that some of the best Naval Aviators in the country would fall for the same trick more than once.

“Kids,” Hondo laughs with a shrug and a waggle of his brows, and it makes you laugh out loud as you think back to a scene where you had been sitting with the lot, after dinner, watching them argue over which superhero, as portrayed in the movies, would come out on top, because you couldn’t agree more.

Jake hears it, clear as day, as he rights his jet, holding back on the acceleration into the planned tactic he was going to go into, even though it was just a soft crackle over the background his comms. He thought he had been dreaming that he had heard your voice, until the point he heard your laugh - he would recognise that laugh anywhere - your laugh.

“Babe?” He says into his comms, and it has Payback and Fanboy looking at each other within the confines of their plane, Mav looking out of the window from above, down towards Jake’s jet, the men all holding in the air, surprised at the sudden call from Jake. All heads in the control room swivel towards you.

Hondo slips the headset off his ear and passes it to you, nodding for you to take it, and you do, slipping it onto your own ear, taking a step forward, closer to the screen even though you can’t see him.

“Jake?” You say, your eyes focused on the mini green outline of his jet on the screen, his call sign flickering beside it.

“Yeah babe?” Jake says again, louder, more sure this time, his face breaking into a wide grin beneath his mask. In that moment, Jake feels like he is at the top of the world, despite having just been spun around in the air by the force of Mav’s jet - he is seated in a jet high above the ground, doing something he had willingly devoted his life to, with your voice in his ear at real-time, knowing that you were watching him.

“Give him hell.” You say, and you hear a roaring laugh of response through the headset in your ear, loud, open, unadulterated, genuine, every note of it being entirely Jake. It is familiar to you, but the heads moving back and forth in the room, eyes coated in surprise, tells you that it isn’t for everyone.

“For you darlin? Anything.”

It earns a whoop from Coyote who is standing to the right of the control room. Jake, who is up in the air grips his center stick, wide grin still on his face. He can feel the ring, dangling from the chain beside his dog tags, a cool circle pressed against his chest. He takes a deep breath.

“Alright boys, hope you’re ready, because Hangman’s coming.”

“Tone!” It is a span of mere minutes, where you hear a mix of shouts, grunts and yells coming from the four men in the air, before you hear a loud prolonged beeping sound, and Jake’s voice crackle over the comms, shouting out the single word with a whoop. It earns wide eyes from around the room, and approving nod from Hondo who is behind you, a “yes” from Coyote and a clap from Bob.

“Fucking Hangman,” is what you hear Rooster murmur from behind, clearly impressed.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Tash mumbles as she walks up to you, before clapping her hand on your shoulder. She knew Jake was good, heck - everyone knew, despite having only been selected as Dagger Spare for the uranium mission, he was the only one among them (not counting Mav) who had a count of two confirmed air combat kills, but to get tone on Mav, something none of them had yet to be able to achieve - now that, was impressive.

“Can we get her in the room everytime he flies?” You hear Cyclone mumble to Warlock from his position in the centre of the room, arms still crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the green on screen.

It makes you smile.

You make your way down along with the rest of the group, the only civilian amongst the group of Naval Aviators, hanging to a side with Coyote, Bob, Rooster and Phoenix as the jets grind to a slow stop and into a park. You can hear the chatter of the trainees, standing around as you watch while the top of Jake’s jet pops open, before he hoists himself out of the seat, stepping onto the wing to hop down onto the ground.

Jake yanks his helmet off his head, and you see him, grinning widely, from ear to ear, his hair sticking up, a sheen of sweat across his forehead, in his element, euphoria unmatched. It’s infectious and you feel your face break out into a matching grin, as Jake begins striding directly to you, helmet in his hand. He moves like a man with a mission, focused entirely on you, and the smattering of trainees move to a side as he approaches, it being clear that he has no intention to stop for anyone in his way.

You see him unzip the top of his flight suit, and reach beneath the black shirt he has on underneath, fingers pulling his dog tags out before he tugs them over his head.

“Jake?” He is three steps away from you, and the group behind you has involuntarily taken a step back, not sure of where this is going, allowing you both your space, and then, it happens.

Jake drops his helmet to the ground, the object rolling an inch away before it settles on his side. You are forced to look down as Jake drops a knee to the ground. He leans his elbow on his other knee, which is bended, propped up by a boot that is pressed flat to the ground, and raises his hand towards you, fingers holding out a ring, still hanging from the chain of his dog tags, with a single jewel as the centrepiece towards you. You recognised the ring at once, having seen it as a permanent fixture on grandma Doris’ finger.

“Jake what are yo-” You start to say, but he cuts you off, answering your question at the same time.

“Marry me.” He says, a statement, not quite an ask as his eyes search yours, a smile, genuine, excited, earnest on his face. “Marry me, because I don’t want to have to spend another day not being able to call you mine.”

It’s a big ask, after only weeks, you both jumping the step where he had even asked you (officially) to be his girlfriend, but this was Jake, the man you knew better than anyone else; the man who you understood, and who understood you, without having to even use words; the man who you would do anything for, and who would do anything for you; the man you had spent the past few weeks finally getting it right with; the man you would say yes to in a heartbeat.

You search his face, his eyes now fixed on you, watching as you take it in, take him in. Jake has never been so goddamn sure of anything in his life. He had been sure the moment his grandmother had slipped the ring onto the table; sure from the moment he had kissed you at Annie’s wedding; sure from the moment he had asked you to come out to San Diego for 6 months; perhaps even sure from way before; but hearing your voice over comms, just your voice, pulling together his focus, grounding him, both literally and figuratively propelling him to greater heights, made him realise that he had already taken too goddamn long to do this, and that he would be a fool to wait even a second longer.

“I’m already yours.” You breathe out, pushing out the breath of air you hadn’t even been aware you were holding. It is enough for him, and Jake reaches forward to tug your hand towards him before he slips the ring on. It fits your finger like a glove, his dog tags still dangling from the other end of the chain still attached to the ring, like a part of him to you. He stands, holding your hand in his, pulling you close so that your body is flush against his. Jake smells of jet fuel, sweat and soap. He reaches up with his other hand, to cup your jaw in his palm, a thumb running over your cheekbone.

“Jake?” You say, softly, as he leans in an inch.

“Yeah.” It makes him stop, face slightly apart from yours, but so close that you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours, and the warmth of his breath on your skin.

“I love you.” You say out loud for the first time, and you see the wide smile break across his face as he presses his lips to yours. You love him, you’ve loved him, just as he love and has loved you.

“I know baby.” Is what Jake says first against your lips, in true Jake Seresin fashion and you can still feel his smile, as he finally says, “I love you too.”

You hear the thunderous sound of cheers in the background, the loudest coming from the group of Naval Aviators you had come to know and love. A plane flies past, roaring overhead in the sky, and you kiss Jake back, one of your hands still gripping his, the other on the back of his head, feeling the damp roots of sweat in his hair, pulling him into you. You feel like your heart is soaring, your flyboy in your arms.

>> EPILOGUE

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f1daydreamers · 10 months

Text

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 [𝐋𝐒𝟏𝟖] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

photo credits: Pinterest

Pairing: Lance Stroll × Fem!Reader

Summary: Asking the driver of the team you work for to attend a wedding with you as your fake date is possibly one of the dumbest ideas you've had ever.. but also one of the best.

Warnings: angst, lottssss of fluff cause u guys deserve some, lots of mentions of alcohol, basically a party lmao

A/N: I’ve got ideas for a mini-series with Lando and one-shots with Max but I need to finish this off before I get carried away elsewhere!! ALSO, super sorry for the late update but it’s been a hectic last few weeks with weddings (summers are BUSY) but yep, finally dialled down and ready to post!

Listen to 'Ho Hey' by The Lumineers during the dancing part, it's such a feel good song :')

Word Count: 3.4k words (12 mins reading time avg)

…

"Ow." You say monotonously as Lance rewraps the elastic bandage, then loosens it amidst your very nonchalant way of expressing agitation.

"The bruising's little better, you just gotta try and keep it straight." You nod, turning your attention to your sister who slid her chicken off of her fork by her teeth.

Lance turned to face his body forward again, tugging the sleeves of his blazer down. He watched as you directed your gaze towards your knee, carefully adjusting the bandage a couple of inches higher to prevent any itchiness.

"Can't believe you hurt it the day of the wedding." You shrug, fiddling with the hem of your dress and stretching your leg out, being careful as to not collide it with someone else's foot beneath the table.

"Just my luck," you settled on an answer and took a sip from your wine glass which desperately needed refilling if you wanted to let the thoughts of your damned knee waft out of your mind.

As if on cue, the waiter who was serving your group tonight popped open and poured a few inches of content from a fresh bottle into your glass. You refrained from asking him to hand you the entire thing. Once he'd began tending to someone else, you spared no moment in taking another sip, though this one was much longer than the previous one.

It didn't slip your notice how Lance leaned in, his words laced with a faint concern.

"You do know alcohol slows your healing down." You only give him a side eye, your lips touching the rim of the glass. Maybe you paused for a brief moment to register what he'd told you, but it didn't matter because you resumed consumption of the liquid seconds later.

He chuckled, shaking his head. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something else but his eyebrows raised in attention as his head whisked to meet your brother.

"Try some of the sushi mate," he prodded hospitably, but Lance brought a hand to his stomach, "I'm not a fan of it. I'm sure it's been well-made but I've tried it a few times in the past."

"Ah." He paused before your mum cut in, she was dabbing her napkin to either side of her lips. "Y/N, you should've told us. I would've asked for something else to be made." You really wanted to roll your eyes, she definitely wouldn't have. In fact, had she known, she probably would've asked for just seafood to be made.

"No harm done." Lance smiled, seeing the impatience with your mom already bubbling up evidently on your face. "Do you cook?" Your mother didn't stop there though as she recaptured his attention.

"I do sometimes, yes." His response took you by surprise, you'd never pegged him as the cooking type. Yet, the revelation only added to his allure in your mind.

"What, tea and toast?" She covered with a laugh though you knew it was a subtle dig, it didn't seem to occur to the man besides you as he only breathily laughed with her, assuming lightheartedness but there was nothing lighthearted about her.

"He can make plenty of things." You added, injecting a touch of seriousness into the conversation. Lance's eyes briefly flickered towards you, his eyebrows furrowing in a slight downward motion.

"Oh?" She sounded surprised, he was quick in interjecting to downplay the sudden admittance. "Y/N's hyping me up," he smiled then continued, "um no a-a couple of things sure. Just practical stuff."

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, noting his growing nervousness as he struggled to comprehend the atmosphere surrounding the conversation. You could sense the tension in the air, a feeling that lingered.

Releasing a sigh, you made a conscious effort to ease the growing awkwardness, forcing a smile as you lifted your gaze once again. "A man of many talents," you commented, aiming to lighten the mood.

Lance smiled at your compliment, remaining modest as he nodded appreciatively in your direction. It was evident that he was grateful you didn't let your mother's remarks affect your mood.

...

A few of the guests were beginning to leave the dinner table, the party now beginning to bleed on to the dance floor. You were slouched in your chair, going through your Instagram when Lance stood up.

"Where you going?" You asked him, though soon to be regretting it when his smile widened. "To dance. And you're coming with me."

Your eyes widen in horror, "I don't- no. I-" He doesn't let you finish your sentence, already tugging your hand up as you slide your phone flat on to the dinner table.

"My knee." You say in a matter-of-fact tone but you know it's not nearly as bad as it was earlier, the compression doing wonders for it.

Lance sees right through your lies because his grip on your hand doesn't loosen, "I'll be careful." You quickly join the assumption that he wanted to dance with you, not just have you up there to lessen his own embarrassment.

"I-" He tuts, "come on."

"Go have fun Y/N. It's not like this opportunity'll come 'round again." Your aunt wags her eyebrows suggestively, and Lance tilts his head towards her, wordlessly agreeing with the cheeky grin on his lips still very much prominent.

"You've definitely had more to drink than I have." He laughs, successfully helping you stand up and guiding you to the dance floor. He moved to the rhythm of the music, already grooving as he walked.

Suddenly, he tugged on your hand, causing you to turn towards him. Your eyes locked as his gaze swept over your body before returning to meet yours. With a playful smirk, he lifted your hand and drew you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist.

As the beat pulsated through the air, he began to shimmy his shoulders, a glint in his eyes. A smile adorned his lips when you instinctively started swaying your hips, matching his energy.

"I don't know where I belong, I don't know where I went wrong, but I can write a song," Lance sang along with the words, his voice as silky as butter. Oblivious to the effect he was having on you, he seamlessly continued on to the chorus, his energy contagious and captivating. You struggled to keep up with the whirlwind of feelings surging through your veins.

A genuine smile graced your lips as Lance playfully tried to engage you in the dance, guiding your arms and encouraging any movement. Laughter bubbles forth as he effortlessly twists you every which way. In the midst of the moment, the encounter with your mother fades into insignificance, and any lingering irritation dissipates.

You're overwhelmed with appreciation for the lengths your 'boyfriend' is willing to go to keep up an appearance.

Lance extends his arm, spinning you around before pulling you close, your bodies meeting. Your forearms align with his chest, and his hands firmly hold yours against his body as he continues to sing.

The lyrics escape his lips, "I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart," and in that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance that feels like pure magic.

You're already breathing a little heavier after the song had ended, beads of sweat trickling down your forehead but the man who'd constantly been spinning and twirling you around looked effortlessly handsome still. The perks of being fit, you supposed.

"I love this song." You listened a little closer then laughed when Lance began singing again, but messed up the lyrics a little.

"It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something stu- dumb to do." The note way off-key meant you couldn't help but chuckle, finding his imperfection endearing. Your head naturally found its place nestled in the dip of his collarbone as he joined in with your laughter.

Moments later, you lifted your head, resuming the dance with him. Once the chorus had begun, he quickly found his rhythm, the music guiding his movements flawlessly.

As the DJ continued to spin songs perfectly suited for a lively and exuberant wedding reception, a few guests eventually broke off from the floor to take a break or grab another drink.

However, you and Lance showed no signs of faltering. Fuelled by the atmosphere, you both remained in sync, undeterred by the fact that it'd been a while you'd been dancing. The music seemed to invigorate you, carrying you both through the night as you danced with unwavering enthusiasm, creating sparks of energy and joy on the dance floor.

As you settle onto a stool by the bar, your now sister-in-law taps you on the shoulder, holding a drink filled with clear liquid in her hand. Leaning down to ensure you hear her, she whispers, "you guys look great together."

Despite mustering a smile, a sour feeling comes over you. On one hand, it feels amazing that you and Lance have managed to convince everyone of your relationship, but you know it's not real. Your feelings for him are genuine, but he remains your colleague and friend — nothing more.

"I don't know how much it means coming from me, but he seems like a really good guy." You look up to meet her gaze, she tugs her dress closer to her legs to sit on the stool opposite you. "Can you tell my mom that?" She smiles, remaining cautious but you understood why. That is her mother-in-law now.

"I don't get the ex thing. The way you look at Lance, I don't know, you never looked at Thomas that way." She leans in to add convincingly, she was only dating your brother during the brief time you were seeing your ex, but the fact that she sees right through you makes you wonder just how obvious your attraction really is. To Lance especially.

You smile appreciatively nevertheless, at least someone's in your corner.

When you feel a presence come up behind you, you don't hold back a grimace when Thomas steps forward. You mouth 'save yourself' to your sister-in-law who chuckles, giving you a small hug before being whisked away by your brother, her husband, as he invites her to dance.

He takes her spot on the stool and you move to get up but he grabs your arm, "five minutes." You shrug his grip off of you and sit back down, pushing your stool a little back to maintain some distance. "Two."

"You're not serious about the F1 bloke, are ya?" You sigh, wiping the tip of your nose with your thumb to catch the tiny drop of sweat.

"I don't have to explain my life choices to you but just so you know, yes, I am serious about him." You state as if it should be clear, although maybe it was. In another reality far from this one, nobody would bring their partner to a family wedding unless they were truly committed to them.

"I know he's not your boyfriend, Y/N," Tom stares at you intently as he finishes his sentence, clearly anticipating any change in your demeanor or facial expression, causing you to suppress any visible reaction. But you're quite certain that your internal organs momentarily ceased functioning.

"What're you on about?" You question him.

He scoffs, as if you're just prolonging the inevitable truth. "At best, he's a friend. There's no way that dude's your boyfriend." You want to ask him how he caught on but didn't know how to word it so you chuckle instead, albeit a little nervously.

"You're funny." You say bitterly but Tom shrugs, a smirk on his lips, oozing confidence and surety in what he was saying as if he was aware this wasn't alcohol talking but the facts he'd built up since this weekend began.

"Come on. The air mattress in your bedroom, obviously has been slept in. On top of that, I haven't even seen you kiss the guy, just hugs and hand holding. People manage that with their mates."

You're beginning to get angry and you wonder if the two minutes you'd allowed him had grown to pass, "perving on my bedroom are we?" You suggest disgustingly through gritted teeth and Tom rolls his eyes, knowing you were stalling to gather a possible answer.

"I went to the bathroom, door was wide open. It's not like you tried to hide it." The smugness in his voice made you want to slap him but out of the corner of your eye, you saw your sister-in-law tap Lance's arm and point in your direction. You hid the relief washing over you, and swallowed your words.

"I couldn't give a shit about how you feel about my relationship." The anxiousness settling into the pit of your stomach caused you to feel a little nauseous.

"Mm-hmm, 'relationship'," he says, using air quotes with his fingers as he takes his hand off of his glass, followed by a playful wink directed at you. The feeling of nausea grows stronger, but you distract yourself when Lance places his hand on the small of your back.

Without wasting another moment, Tom leaves when Lance glares at him, leaving the two of you alone. He immediately redirects his attention towards you, his gaze fixed, wordlessly asking if you're okay.

"He knows," your voice shakes as you meet his eyes.

"Who?" He asks.

"Tom. He - figured it out. He knows we're not dating, he knows about the extra mattress in my room, he knows." You find yourself repeating, your mind in a frenzy as you whisper whatever you recall of the situation to the man currently hovering over you.

Your eyes glance behind Lance's body as you watch your ex go over to Kevin, interesting him in a conversation that you have no doubt is about his recent discovery.

"He's going to tell my brother, he's going to tell everyone-" You cut yourself off when Lance pushes his hand into your back, forcing you to meet his eyes again. Though this is not the time for it, the contact causes somersaults to erupt in your body.

"No he's not. He's not going to do anything, don't let him fuck with you." He reassures you, advising you to try and forget the encounter but it's all that is playing on your mind. You can't have him unwrap this entire weekend like a present waiting to be opened and showcased to everyone.

"Come on, it's the slow dance." You huff, finding right now a pretty stupid time to join your date for a dance. He sensed your hesitation, pulling you up by the hand much like he did a while ago.

"Isn't now a good as time as ever to convince everyone we are in love?"

You think about his question for a while then realise he had a point, you nod and let him guide you back to the dance floor, in a crowd full of many other couples doing the same thing.

You interlock your fingers around his neck, his hands finding their rightful places on either sides of your waist. You both begin to sway and you can see Tom standing just off of the floor, his eyes obviously trained on you and the F1 driver.

Lance looks down into your eyes to break your concentration, there was a subtle softness in them that you knew you could only claim as your own.

"What if he does tell everyone?" You whisper to him but he only smiles, contrasting you massively. One thing that differed between you was the lack of anxiousness in him and the load of it inside of you.

"A mattress can easily be explained, and he has nothing to prove that we're not dating." You swallow, remembering the other point Tom made in the short conversation.

"H-he said we haven't-" Lance's eyebrows furrow as your speech falters so you decide to rephrase it. "We only hug and stuff, to him couples do more than that."

"And to you?" You meet his lingering gaze, "what?"

His eyes fall to overlook your expression before catching your stare again, "what do you think couples do?" You subtly shrug when Lance tugs you closer to him. "I-I don't know. Traditional couple stuff." You curve around the obvious answer and he chuckles, nodding his head.

His eyes flicker to your lips and you could swear your heart skipped a beat, or maybe multiple beats. Your heart was fluttering vigorously within your chest, its rhythmic pounding so intense that you wondered if Lance could hear it if he focused hard enough.

You gazed at him, momentarily lost in admiration without any specific thoughts occupying your mind.

He observed you attentively, analysing you with deep contemplation. There was obviously something playing about his mind, but you couldn't decipher it, he'd never been one to read easily. He tucked in his bottom lip.

No words were exchanged but your chest was conveying more than enough, just as Lance's was. His emotions seemed to be a mix of nervousness, anxiety, and perhaps even panic. He couldn't understand why, this would only be a justifiable favour.

His gaze again shifted from your eyes to your lips, and the agitation in your body reached such a level that you felt your ribs may explode from the sheer feeling pent up inside of you. Raw emotions surged, unearthing feelings that perhaps you hadn't been sure about before. They were springing to life, blooming ever so confidently.

But so were you, every new sensation coursing through your veins made you feel alive, but frightened you too. It was powerful, overwhelming and a sensation that had never quite been matched with previous boyfriends.

You noticed the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. In response, you leaned in closer. You didn't want him to retreat from this proximity, despite the anxiousness gripping you.

You couldn't help but wonder the potential consequences that could arise. Any platonic friendship you'd built up until this point would be shattered. Lance sensed your distraction and squeezed your waist in response, "how's the knee doing?"

You sigh out an unsteady breath, "g-good." Your gaze was darting between his eyes, barely formulating a clear response to his question, obviously lacking confidence. You knew the song was only a couple of moments away from ending, though there was no countdown, everything felt perfect enough for it to happen now.

Your face began to warm up, "I-I'm not the only one who's having all these feelings, am I?" You asked ambiguously, half-fearing his response.

Lance knew exactly what you meant, it seemed a little inconclusive to make assumptions on such an open-ended question but the breathless look on your face and the glint in your eyes both served as hints.

"No," the ends of his lips curve slightly into a smile, only to serve as assurance that he wasn't answering for convenience but because he was telling the truth and he too was sick of having to hide it.

Lance moved maybe a centimetre or an inch closer to you, his proximity was so close that the tip of his nose brushed against yours, causing your eyelids to flutter. His hands slid slowly from either sides of your waist to your back, interlinking.

Your lips parted instinctively, your mind becoming clouded, and any trace of logic vanishing from your thoughts.

His bottom lip skimmed over your top one and you could've sworn your body had turned into jelly, you could feel him smile faintly before his mouth closed around yours. For a moment, neither you or Lance breathed.

Perhaps to give the other ample time to process this was really happening. A blush crept on to your cheeks, his lips began to move, enticing you to join him in an illusive dance.

You released a content sigh through your nose which only offered Lance more assurance, continuing to kiss you with eagerness you didn't know he had. You toyed with a few strands on the back of his head, gently tugging at his neck to urge him closer.

He hummed in response, happily complying with your unspoken command. You pulled away to catch your breath, he allowed you to step impossibly closer to him as people began curving you to go back to their seats as the next song began.

You took the minute you had to appreciate just how good he looked, his eyes light, his lips pink, and his fair skin glowing even under the DJ's overhead spotlights.

You met his lips again, remaining there for a few seconds before he moved against them, kissing you a few times. "God, you're amazing." He whispered when you detached for the final time, blushing but making no effort to conceal it anymore.

...

Part 7

Masterlist

Two more parts to go!

Taglist: @fantasticbouquetwitchsthings @topguncultleader @spicyclover @amirahart @softiecaro @alilstressyandlotdepressy @eugene-emt-roe @e-lisa-bettan @strolleclercs @jjsprobablywrong @carmelita-holland @flowerchild-96 @rd14 @honethatty12 @gaslysainz @pierre-gasssllyy @lestappenloverr @secretlyangrymagazine @chiliwhore @mentallyunstablebish @mcmuppet @xscorpioxmoon @ferrariloverr @rivivie @starkeyellow @vanillascreams @tororossoseb-blog @hiphopdancer101universe @hc-dutch @love4lando @chonkybonky @angstyeighteen @natasharomanoffisbaebby @little-angel-07 @voidskywxlker @vildetry-06 @sharllec @aundercover @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @spicyclover @mloyer @alesainz @hockey-racing-fubol @cinnamonroll2003 @honeyric3 @nikki01234 @purplephantomwolf @mindflay3r @ttzjune @xitsyaiizax @dylylylylyly @junhuilvrrr @f1-hyperfixation

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jaegeraether · 3 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 48)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (43) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson Mini (5)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**Just a little one tonight...I've been busy. Also it's very emotional...Sorry!**))

“Tell me everything.”

Leah downed her second drink in a row. “The awards are going to start.”

“Not for another twenty minutes…”

The England Captain sighed and put her head in her hands for a minute or so, YFN leaving her to her thoughts until she was ready. She came back up with decisiveness, looking at YFN.

“The first I heard of Mark was when I was promoting my book last year. I was promoting it around social media and all that, and one of the things I did was a sort of sit down talk with JK Rowling about it. She’s a children’s author, my book is for children, it just made sense to everyone, including my publishing agency. Anyways, Joe’s team were confident that it would be a massive boost for her after the previous comments she’d made. They planned it so that doing this little interview with me would make people start to like her again and boost her reputations back up and… well Mark didn’t like that. He approached me without my team around and told me to make sure the interview never came out. I talked to my team and Joe’s team and they didn’t seem surprised he’d done that. My team told him no. The next thing I know, he approached me with a video of…” Leah closed her eyes and shook her head as if to rid herself of the memories.

“Leah you didn’t…” YFN stopped herself.

“No! No, I didn’t cheat on Jordan. The video was of Jordan and I, but you couldn’t tell it was her. You could definitely tell it was me.”

YFN heart sunk and she reached out to touch Leah’s arm reassuringly. “How.. how bad was it?”

YFN could see the tears forming in her eyes. She pulled her head back almost looking at the ceiling as she tried to keep them at bay and dabbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, this is relief more than anything. You’re the first person I’ve told.” She met YFN’s eyes again with a small smile that wasn’t fooling anyone. “It was bad. You can see most of me naked and the back of Jordan’s head between my legs, though it just looks like it could have been anyone. The problem was me obviously coming on camera. We were near a window in a high-rise so the only thing I can think of is drone footage… I didn’t see it…”

She was the first person she’d told. Leah had kept it all to herself. She squeezed her arm.

“It’s not illegal to video someone inside their home, but it’s a strong case for being unethical..”

“Yeah, my lawyers eventually worked that one out. But I didn’t want to drag Jordan down in my mess. I thought I was going down, and I..” she looked over at Jordan. “I didn’t want to drag her down with me. She deserves better.” She looked back at YFN. “You would have done the same for Lucy.. I know you would have.”

It all started making sense to her then. Leah’s talk to YFN when she was arguing with Lucy about ‘don’t fall into the trap of pretending it’s for the best when it’s not. I’ve made that mistake and can’t watch you do the same..’

Leah broke up with Jordan because of this. Because of Mark. Her eyes searched for him in the crowd as she spoke.

“So you broke up with Jordan because you were worried he would make it public and ruin your career and Jordan’s by association. It’s taken your lawyers a little over a year to win the rights to the video, so you’re trying to win Jordan back, and now he’s threatening to leak it out of spite?” Her words were said between gritted teeth.

Her eyes scanned over Lucy, only pausing long enough to see her look of curiosity and worry at the expression on YFN’s face which she guessed was fierce.

“That sums it up pretty well actu-“

Leah cut herself off when YFN stood and left, walking towards the man she’d finally spotted in the crowd. She didn’t care where she was.

“You!” She said, standing in front of him. “You like threatening people and ruining relationships, do you? What exactly do you want?”

Mark looked a little embarrassed and waved the people he was talking to away. “Leave us, I’ll find you.” He turned to YFN. “You want to do this here and now?”

“You fucking started it.”

A hand grabbed hold of her arm and she didn’t have to look to know it was Lucy.

“YFN, don’t. It’s not worth it.” Leah pleaded from YFN’s other side, her hand also finding her arm as she murmured the next bit quietly. “Let the lawyers handle it.”

“I want to know,” she said, fists balled up. “What do you want?”

He looked around as if to make sure they weren’t making a scene before he bent down. “You know what I want. Joe-“

“Joe has nothing to do with us, and even if she did, we don’t represent whatever she did to hurt you. So leave us alone.”

Mark laughed. Actually laughed. “As if you don’t have enemies as well, YFN?”

“That’s enough,” Lucy growled over her shoulder.

“No,” he replied harshly with a glare at Lucy before his attention turned back to YFN. “This world is built on enemies. Take a think about those photos of you and your girlfriend at the airport, hm? I don’t live in Barcelona. None of the people who work for me do. So take a moment to rethink… do you have any enemies? Particularly ones in.. oh I don’t know… Barcelona?”

Her stomach dropped lower. The photos hadn’t been the best quality, and she’d wondered if they were taken from a phone. Of course they would have.

“K…Kristie?”

“Not so innocent, are you?”

Lucy took a step forward when they were interrupted.

“Lucy! Leah! It’s good to see you again!”

They turned and paled as William and Catherine approached. They looked stunning, William in a tux and Catherine in a dress.

The five of them composed themselves quickly enough that the tension went unnoticed.

Lucy greeted the pair first and then stepped back, placing a reassuring hand on YFN’s lower back. She was the only person who knew that Catherine was her ‘Joe’. Leah greeted them next with a textbook smile, teeth showing, followed by Jordan. Mark had managed to sneak away, but not before flashing YFN another look as if he’d won. She pretended not to see. After the pair greeted the three lionesses, William’s attention turned to her.

“YFN, right?” She curtsied slowly to get her thoughts together. How did he know who she was? Luckily he continued as he shook her hand with a smile. “You’re the manager of Lumos, the new company for women’s sports, yes?”

YFN nodded. “That’s me. Lovely to meet you.”

“Fantastic work. Absolutely fantastic. I’m into football myself, if you can’t tell,” he joked, gesturing to the three lionesses beside her. He stepped just far enough to the side for Catherine to give her a similar greeting. Gosh, she was good at pretending they didn’t know each other. YNF shook her hand also.

“William is a sports fan but even more so a football fanatic,” she explained as if she didn’t know. The eye roll really sold it.

YFN had done her research and knew that William was the President of the Football Association, amongst his other titles.

“Catherine spotted some football stars, knowing I couldn’t resist coming over and saying hello,” he grinned. Ah, that made sense. This was Catherine’s way of intervening. She must have seen. “Anything to get out whatever we were previously talking about.” He was cheeky, which was refreshing. “Have you heard of Lumos?”

Catherine nodded. “Yes, they seem like a wonderful new start up,” she turned to YFN. “Is it just for women’s football or will it be for other things?”

“Starting off with women’s football. Aiming to have full coverage over all leagues and internationals by the middle of next year. Following that we’ll expand to other female sports which are lacking attention like cricket and tennis, and from there we’ll see. As of right now its main purpose is to bridge that deficit of coverage of women’s sports.”

“That’s excellent,” William said. “And much needed. Women’s sports have a lot of supporters and it would give young girls better access to sportswomen to idolise growing up. I remember you all saying how difficult it was growing up without that..”

The lionesses nodded, and Leah stepped in as Captain, supporting her and mentioning how Lumos was already becoming very popular with the players around England.

They spoke for a little longer, the conversation made easy by William. He was great at talking in general and holding interest. They had to leave after five full minutes of conversation, apologising as they were expected to meet some more people before the awards started. YFN was fine with that, she had too much on her mind to be entertaining a conversation when she felt like she needed to be sick.

“Fucking Kristie,” Lucy growled when they’d left.

YFN didn’t say anything, the feeling of dread sitting there.

“What are you going to do?” Jordan asked softly.

“She violated her restraining order. I’m going to get airport footage of her there.”

YFN was almost zoned out, barely hearing as she tried to find Mark again. Kristie hovering around them left her nervous and scared, but she couldn’t get over the feeling that came with knowing what he’d done to Leah and Jordan without caring. Her eyes wandered but couldn’t find him and regardless, the trio wouldn’t have let her confront him again anyways.

“It’s not worth it,” Lucy said again. YFN looked at her harder than she ever had so she knew she was serious.

“Yes, it is.”

Her message got across and Lucy looked to Leah who was biting her lip. Jordan saw Leah hesitating and shook her head. She was done. She walked off. Lucy went to follow but YFN stopped her and her hand found Lucy’s, entwining their fingers. Lucy softened.

YFN turned to Leah. “We have ten minutes until we need to be seated, Leah.”

“I don’t deserve her,” she whispered. “I can’t drag her into this mess..”

“Leah…a mistake repeated more than once is a decision. Don’t make her decision for her again. Give her a choice, and give her the truth.”

Leah’s lips parted and her face fell as the words hit her hard. She nodded and walked over to Jordan. Lucy and YFN found a comfortable spot of their own and YFN told Lucy at the exact same time that Leah told Jordan. Lucy’s face fell and her head whipped around to find Mark, but was stopped by YFN catching her cheek with the palm of her hand.

“No, Luce. Not tonight.”

She planted a soft kiss to her cheek as Lucy calmed herself, turning to watch Leah tell Jordan. They’d never seen Jordan’s face drop so fast. She was distraught. Leah hadn’t left her because of her. Leah had left her to protect her. Jordan’s lips trembled and for the first time in a long time, she let Leah hold her, and stroke her back as she cried. Finally. Catharsis.

They’d all managed to tidy themselves up before the awards and they sat together in pairs, YFN noticing Leah’s hand was made open and available to Jordan which she eventually took. Their fingers laced together like Lucy’s and YFN’s while they listened to speeches and only then did she let herself relax and enjoy the fact that Lucy was here. She couldn’t help the looks of adoration.

“Your boxing class,” she murmured during a break.

“Pushed it to tomorrow,” Lucy smirked. “Figured some cardio on the day before El Clasico would be a good idea.”

YFN hummed her approval and gripped her bicep with her spare arm. “You came.”

“Of course I did, little one,” they shared a look, not really caring that they were in public. “Besides…I’m glad I did with this drama.”

“I’m glad you did too,” she sighed, her eyes finding Jordan and Leah again. “I really needed you tonight.”

She needed her every night, but she wasn’t about to admit that.

The awards were a nice distraction and they caught up with a few of the other lionesses: Alex Scott, Chloe Kelly, Mary Earps, Jill Scott and a few celebrities outside of football Leah introduced them to. After the drama of Mark, they’d all fallen into the enjoyment of the night and each other’s company. Most people left the venue quickly, however the four stayed and enjoyed the soft music and relaxed atmosphere as opposed to the chaos of the after party. YFN found herself slow dancing in Lucy’s arms, joined by several other couples who preferred that to a night club scene. They whispered sweet nothings to each other as they swayed, giving Leah and Jordan time to speak quietly at a table alone. Only when the conversation appeared to be ending, did they stop and join them.

They stopped for takeout on the way home, looking incredibly overdressed as they did so which amused them all. They sat and ate at the takeout place which was far too dirty for their clothes, but again, they were enjoying themselves and the company of each other. Somehow with all of her condiments, Lucy had managed to not drop any onto her outfit, and the trio let her know just how impressed they were. The table she’d been leaning over though…that needed a bucket and a mop. Her excuse was that she hadn’t eaten since lunch, though they knew her better than that.

They arrived back at Lucy’s house late, undressing, showering and getting into comfy clothes.

“I want to see it,” Jordan said.

Leah didn’t bother arguing. She knew she’d been wrong to keep it from her. She looked at YFN and Lucy who were already giving them space. It was none of their business.

Jordan watched the video with fear. It didn’t go for long, and it was exactly as Leah had described. They were in a high rise apartment they’d booked for a romantic night together in London. Leah was naked and propped up on pillows on the couch, and Jordan’s mouth was on her. It was impossible to tell it was Jordan as the couch arm cut off all of her body besides the head as it moved, her hands gripping Leah’s hips as she ate her. Leah was a mess at this point. Her hair was out and she was desperately chasing the high that Jordan was pushing her towards. She was a sweaty, moaning mess, unable to keep still, her hands finding Jordan wherever she could. The end of the video was Leah orgasming, her back arching and a whimper torn from her throat, her nipples excited and pointing to the ceiling. It was confronting to watch, even without sound.

They didn’t speak when it was done. Jordan handed her phone back wordlessly and Leah picked up her bag. Jordan walked her to the door. There hadn’t been any discussion on Leah not staying, it was just something they both knew was right.

“I love you,” Leah said from the doorstep, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I made a decision without involving you. I thought I was protecting you, but I took your choice away. I never stopped and will never stop loving you. I can’t change the past, but I can tell you here and now that I’ll give you everything, all of me, and I’ll never make a decision without you again. I’ve lost a year with you, and I can’t stand to lose another second. If you take me back and realise you can’t trust me….then I’ll bear that burden of pain and I need you to know that I’d never beg you to stay just for my feelings. I’d hold the door open and offer you everything I had, because you deserve everything, Jord. Just…think on it.”

Leah leant down slowly and kissed Jordan on the cheek one long, lingering kiss. Jordan’s head turned into her and their foreheads met, lips hovering over each others. Leah cupped her cheek and wiped away the tears that her words had drawn from Jordan. She was tempted to kiss her, but she was not going to make another mistake. It was Jordan’s choice from here on.

“You’re my person. I love you, Jord.”

And with that, Leah was gone, Jordan watching as she did. She watched her open her car door and toss her bag in. She watched her sit in her seat and put her seatbelt on. She watched her lips tremble as she exhaled her emotions, gripping the steering wheel. Her red eyes found Jordan on the doorstep with her arms wrapped around her body to shield herself from the cold. That should be her keeping her warm. She started the car as her own tears fell. Jordan watched until she could no longer see her car, her heart aching for those happy years with Leah again.

She went back inside and YFN was waiting for her with her arms out. Jordan planted herself there, letting her emotions out in loud sobs. Lucy came past and wrapped her arms around them both tightly, kissing Jordan on the head.

They ended up on the couch, Jordan crying herself to sleep in YFN’s arms, Lucy tucking a blanket over them. She settled herself on the adjacent side of the L-shaped modular couch, her head near theirs and her pinky finding YFN’s.

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #engwnt #jordan nobbs #lionesses #lucy bronze #woso x reader #wsl #leah williamson #arsenal women #aston villa women #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader

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