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lavenderspence · 1 year ago

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To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other.

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

masterlist

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started.

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds.

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost.

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain.

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go.

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair.

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true.

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list.

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone.

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment.

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?”

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him.

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest.

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico.

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other.

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped.

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking.

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes.

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been.

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside.

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore.

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud.

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did.

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you.

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him.

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her.

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough.

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier.

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking.

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt.

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more.

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again.

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say.

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight.

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight.

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him.

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive.

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends.

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in.

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take?

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared.

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you.

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote.

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num.

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same.

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card.

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again.

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused.

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different.

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit.

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy.

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years.

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt.

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown.

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place.

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly.

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one.

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth.

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness.

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine.

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both.

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt.

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled.

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him.

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed.

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that.

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time.

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out.

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure.

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn.

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly.

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over.

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did.

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see.

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over.

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out.

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them.

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms.

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation.

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now.

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned.

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth.

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet.

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face.

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry.

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined.

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to.

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him.

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment.

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of.

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes.

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own.

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much.

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline.

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head.

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him.

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you.

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other.

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand.

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent.

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in.

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again.

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice.

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it.

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto.

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head.

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering.

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to.

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became.

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace.

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it.

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real.

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple.

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?”

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you.

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss.

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time.

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy.

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process.

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices.

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived.

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours.

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go.

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching.

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together.

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered.

“I love you.”

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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writingsonsaturn · 1 year ago

Note

Tim's fiancee gets arrested when a cop (let's say Lucy or someone) (this is after they are rookies) arrests her because she looks like a suspect they already caught, his fiancee told them she was engaged to Tim but they didn't believe her and Tim gets mad at the officer - <3

wrong place, wrong time - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: very sorry about how long its taken me to write, had a lot of stuff to do this week lol! this ones a little short <333

word count: 850

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Waking up with Tim being gone was normal, even after he had left the military his day continued to start at 6 am sharp. Although on weekends he would cut himself some slack to hold you until you were ready to get out of bed and begin with your various tasks you two needed to get done.

Today didn’t start off any different, waking up only a few hours after Tim had, at a ripe 8:30am.

Rubbing your eyes you flung your legs to your left, your warm feet chilling almost immediately at the cold wooden flooring of you and Tim’s shared bedroom. A shiver shot through your nerves and up your spine, you sighed lightly at the shift in temperature and made your departure to the bathroom.

The spring air seeped into the sunlit room, the fresh morning breeze filling your soul with flowers and bright colors. Music filled the house whilst you finished your morning routine making breakfast and feeding Kojo.

You started out your afternoon deciding to head to the local library, wanting to return a book you had borrowed before you were charged with a late fee.

The library wasn’t full since it was the afternoon and school was still in session, “hello! i’m here to return a book” you said in a chipper but quiet tone. The librarian smiled and took the book, checking it back into the system and sending you on your way.

Your next stop was a supermarket, you had only a handful of items that were needed. Tim had run out of coffee filters this morning and you needed more shampoo, you also opted to get a new water bowl for Kojo, not that he needed one, you just thought it was cute.

As you walked out to your car you were stopped with a taser pointed directly at your torso, “get on your knees with your hands up!” a woman yelled.

Your confused manor caused your reaction to be delayed, causing the police officer to yell once again. “Get down on the ground with your hands up, now!” you immediately get down to your knees and put your shaking hands up.

“You got the wrong person, I swear! Call Tim Bradford, he's my Fiancé!” you pleaded, the cop with the name ‘Chen’ on her shirt just scoffed and laughed you off while stuffing you in the back of her squad car.

The ride to the precinct was uncomfortable, the cuffs were digging into the skin of your wrists. “Officer please, I'm not whoever you think I am. All you have to do is call Bradford, he’ll tell you exactly what I'm telling you know” you tried to plead your case once again, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Tim doesn’t have a fiancé, he was my T.O, i think i would know a big detail like him having a girlfriend” she laughed, feeling as though it was ridiculous to even entertain your words.

As you were brought into the station to get your picture taken and be put into holding, Chen passed you onto another officer and went to tell Grey about her catch.

To Lucy’s surprise everyone had already been packing up the evidence and started paperwork, “what’s going on?” Lucy questioned, “we caught the killer, she was at her parents place shooting up when we got there” Tim explained. Lucy was confused, “so if you caught the killer, who do i have in holding?” the question hung in the air, Tim looking at her with perplexed eyes.

Lucy walked Tim over to holding and that’s where Tim saw you, “oh thank god!” you exclaimed seeing Tim. He hurried over to you taking your cuffs off and waving off the other officers. “Chen, why is my fiancé sitting here in cuffs?” Tim sternly asks, Lucy looks down, stuttering and trying to explain herself.

“Tim it’s fine, she was just doing her job” you did your best to defend Lucy, “No y/n, this is not okay, if it had been anyone else this would be a lawsuit” he turned his body at you but his tone was directed at Lucy.

“Tim i’m sorry, I didn’t know we had already caught the suspect and she looked exactly like our suspect” Lucy tried to explain, stumbling over her words.

“You are going to go to Grey and explain everything, lucky for you, y/n isn’t going to file a report against you” Tim assigned Lucy, to which she scurried away. “Are you okay? oh christ your wrists,” his questions and concerns came at you with speed.

“Tim, baby, I'm okay,” you smiled trying to calm him down. Tim held your wrists in his hands, and kissed them. He hoped his love would be enough to soothe your angry red skin, “i’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened” he persisted.

You shut him up with a kiss, “drive me to go pick up my car” your smile made him relax. “Yes ma’am” he laughed, telling Grey where he was going, and walking out hand in hand with you, still profusely apologizing.

#tim bradford x reader #reader insert #the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford x you

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mind-intheclouds342 · 7 months ago

Text

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Warning: Mention of rape.

You let out a sigh, as if you had held your breath for a few seconds upon seeing him there.

The only thing you could recognize was that blue eye color he had.

You were in a conflict, you didn't know what to do at that moment, your eyes filled with tears in an instant.

Before you knew it, you were walking towards him, your body aching, but the pain was secondary at that moment.

You leaned over his bed to see him up close, kneeling to be face to face with him.

If he could express any kind of emotion on his face, you would say he was terrified that you finally saw him, your eyes were focused on him, and you didn't say a word.

Until you smiled.

"You're really alive..."

You murmured and covered your mouth when you started to laugh, the mix of emotions at that moment was a disaster, between laughter and sobs, you didn't know what to do, whether to feel happy because he was alive, or feel sad about the state he was in.

You slapped your cheeks hard enough to leave them red, trying to reason with yourself while listening to Curly's whimpers.

"Okay- okay- let me help you- I know they've been giving you painkillers for your pain, just let me give them to you"

You mentioned that upon hearing those sounds, you quickly looked for the pills and took one to be able to give it to him.

You moved your fingers nervously as you brought your hand closer to his jaw, his exposed teeth were something unpleasant to see, and the smell of burnt flesh was even worse in the room.

"I see why Anya looks so terrified... It must be difficult for her."

At one point, you pushed the pills down his throat and tried to move him a bit so he could swallow without choking.

In a short time, their whimpers ceased.

You noticed the robe you were wearing and decided to take it off to put on your uniform that was next to the bed where you woke up.

Curly inhaled sharply when you changed, seeing how almost your entire body was covered in bruises.

When you finished, you took a chair and sat down next to your husband.

They both looked at each other in silence.

"I understand why you didn't want me to see you like this... I really thought I would wait until you gave me permission to see you... I didn't expect to end up here in the nursery just like that..."

You looked at your hands and arms, well aware that they were covered in bruises that were now hidden by your clothes, but they were still there, and it hurt so bad. You took one of the painkillers and swallowed it, hoping the pain would go away soon.

"Do you have any idea why Jimmy hates me so much? Maybe he wanted to marry you."

You joked, leaning back in the chair, waiting for the medication to take effect.

"I think I found a way to get back, we are heading to a Pony Express station, it seems you were able to reactivate the autopilot in the cabin before the explosion, we will get there in three months, I'm sure we can communicate with someone so they can come and rescue us."

Even when he didn't respond, you enjoyed this conversation you were having, you were happy to be able to talk to your husband again, and you knew very well that he could hear you, by the way he looked at you attentively.

Anya: "Curly, I'm sorry for being late, I-"

You turned when you heard the door open and smiled upon seeing that woman, who immediately looked surprised to see you.

"Hey Anya~ woah-"

You were greatly surprised when she jumped at you to hug you, you pressed your lips together to avoid letting out a whimper of pain, reciprocating the hug in confusion.

Anya: "I was so scared—I thought you would never wake up! I thought you were bleeding inside - we didn't know what to do - it happened -"

Immediately, you took her by the shoulders to make her separate and looked her straight in the eyes.

"How long was I asleep?...."

Anya wiped her tears and took a breath before answering you.

Anya: "Three weeks..."

You immediately got up from your seat, ready to leave the nursery.

Curly immediately started making strange sounds, looking at the door and Anya, as if he were begging her to go with you.

The woman looked at him strangely but soon began to follow him.

Anya: "(Y/n) - please wait -"

"Where the hell is Jimmy?"

You stopped and turned to look at her seriously.

Anya: "Why are you looking for him?..."

"I'm sure that son of a bitch tried to kill me, I don't know what he's planning, but whatever it is, it ends here and now! Who knows what other damage he has done here on the ship and-!"

You fell silent upon noticing his face, a mix of sadness and hope now that you were saying that.

"Anya... please... no..."

Anya: "I told Curly but... He didn't do anything... I... I'm pregnant."

You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, but you just pressed your lips together, turned slowly, and took a few steps before starting to run in search of that man.

Daisuke: "Swansea, I don't think you should drink that-"

Swansea: "We have no escape from this place now! Bah! Without the captains, there's nothing left."

He commented, taking another sip of the mouthwash they had found in the cargo.

Jimmy: "I remind you that I am the captain now, so-"

"CAPTAIN MY ASS!"

You arrived furiously in the room where everyone was gathered, you didn't even wait for him to respond, you took a chair close to you and hit him on the back with it.

Daisuke: "Woah! What's happening?? (Y/n)! How long ago did you wake up? Why-?"

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

When the boy tried to approach you, you pushed him away, ready to hit Jimmy again, who was on the ground in pain.

"DON'T TOUCH ME! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!"

You started to shake as you felt the arms of both males holding you, preventing you from continuing to hit the other.

Swansea: "What's happening with you?!"

"HE RAPE ANYA!"

You shouted, exposing him in front of everyone, all of them speechless at the revelation.

They slowly released you, and when you saw Jimmy move, trying to get up, you kicked him in the mouth, making him fall to the ground again.

"You are disgusting, disgusting! Aren't you ashamed?! You've already done too much damage, you're on my damn ship! You're not going to do anything else here. And when we return, I will make sure you ROT IN JAIL."

You shouted this last part in his ear, grabbing his hair to make him lift his head, and then you slammed it against the ground again.

"Killing you would be showing mercy on you."

You spat on his chest and left him there for a few seconds, you were going to have to find a place to lock him up.

#mouthwash #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing x reader #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #captain curly #captain curly x reader #mouthwashing curly #do it for them mouthwashing

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 22 pt.1- Plus One

Summary: One weekday in September, you and Javi learn that your family is getting a very welcomed addition to your family

Word Count: 15.2K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, breeding kink (listen... she's already pregnant, but Javi's an optimist LOL), general talk of pregnancy, doctor's appointment, nausea/morning sickness, Dad to be!Javi makes me weak in the mf'in knees (I'm being so fr, the man is built to be a dad), The Murphy's/Chucho/Your family may have a gambling problem

A/N: This is me bracing myself for y'all to throw rotten fruit at me in the public square while you boo and his because this literally took 6 months AND I AM SO DEEPLY, TRULY SORRY ABOUT IT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Me and this chapter have been in a wrestling match since November, but she's finally here!!! I'm planning on splitting up Javi and Osita's pregnancy journey by trimester, so this chapter is months 1-3, next chapter will be months 4-6, etc... I know I sound like a broken record, but the love that you guys have shown this story and these characters legit makes me want to cry, I think part of the reason this took so long is bc after this, there's only two more chapters before NTL is a wrap, and that's a very weird thing to say. So regardless, I just wanna say I love y'all and love getting to share this story with you and I'm just feeling really sappy about it 🥹💛 OKAY ANYWAYS, YOU CAN CONTINUE WITH THE BOOING AND TOMATO PELTING, I'M SORRY AGAIN!!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Month 1

“I swear to God, if I’m already getting sick two weeks into the school year, I’m gonna cry.”

Finding yourself hunched over your toilet bowl at 6:30 A.M. was not the way you were planning to start your Wednesday morning, but after tossing and turning for the past hour in bed with a terrible pit in your stomach, you didn’t feel like you had much of a choice.

Being the light sleeper and worry wart he was, Javi was up with you, despite your best attempts to tell him to go back to bed, considering there was nothing he could do for your upset stomach besides watch you vomit repeatedly into your toilet. Trying his best to stay awake without his mandatory dose of morning coffee, Javi sat on the bathroom floor next to you, still in nothing but his boxers as he simultaneously rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with one hand and your back with another.

“I think I’m just gonna start wearing a hazmat suit to school.” You sighed, sitting up a little straighter, starting to feel at least a little bit of relief after feeling like you had finally emptied the last of anything left in your stomach. “I think that’s the last of it for now. Fuck, I gotta take a shower before I do anything else to get ready.”

“Get ready? Osita, you just spent an hour throwing up. You should be taking the day off.” Javi shot up, your proposition now making him fully awake, shocked that you would even consider going into work after the events of this morning.

With a remorseful grunt, you pushed yourself off the bathroom floor, trying to stretch and shake out any remainder of your sickness as you stepped over Javi to turn on the shower.

“Jav, it’s more work for me to call in sick and make sub plans than it will be for me to just go into school. I don’t even have my normal plans ready since it’s the beginning of the school year. Worst case, Maria can watch my class if I need to throw up again, or very worst case, I bring in the rolling TV cart and put on Bill Nye the Science Guy for them.” You sighed, stripping yourself of your pajamas and tossing them on the floor before pushing open the shower curtain and slipping under the steaming flow of hot water.

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration at your stubbornness. “Honey, I’m just worried that-”

“Javi, I’ll be fine. You gonna write my sub plans and teach for me today? If that’s the case, go right ahead and I’ll stay home. Seriously?” You snapped, a little more sass in your tone than you had intended, your frustrations more at the circumstances of your job and less at Javi’s suggestion. You stood in silence for a moment, the rhythmic splash of the water from the showerhead hitting the floor of the tub as your stomach began to fill with guilt in the way you had responded to Javi after he had spent his whole morning sitting beside you in the bathroom while you threw up.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” You muttered, pushing back the shower curtain to look at Javi, jaw shifting back and forth as he grinded on his teeth, trying his best to make sure his lack of sleep and coffee didn’t turn the rest of the morning into a war zone because of your comment.

“It’s okay, Osita. What can I do to help?”

“Can you make me breakfast?” You asked sheepishly, tears starting to well in your eyes that you had taken your anger out on Javi, and despite that, he was still offering to help.

“Of course, baby. What do you want?”

“Just eggs and toast.”

“Okay. Just worry about getting ready and I’ll take care of everything else. I love you.” Javi smiled, giving your arm a little squeeze.

Suddenly, a wave of emotion seemed to crash through your body, your wet, teary eyes now transforming to full on sobs, feeling such an intense combination of guilt and appreciation for how wonderful your husband was, and how terrible you felt that you had reacted to him the way that you did.

Just as soon as Javi was about to get up and make you breakfast while you fought to get yourself ready for work, he was back, crouched down next to you as he heard the sound of your soft sniffles and tears.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Javi asked, concern flooding his face, reaching up to wipe your wet cheek with his thumb as he cradled your jaw.

“I’m so sorry I was so mean about that, I- I- I know you’re just trying to help. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You sighed, shaking your head and trying to laugh off your teary state. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to get so mad at you, I don’t know why I’m so all over the place right now.”

“Hermosa, it’s okay. I promise. Why don’t you get in the shower, I’ll make you breakfast, and pack up all your stuff for this morning.” Javi smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss into your messy, morning bed head before exiting the bathroom, leaving you to finally start getting ready for the day.

After a pain-stakingly nauseous shower, followed by eating approximately two bites of toast and no eggs, you somehow managed to make it to school on time, but spent the entirety of the day fighting for your life as waves of stomach pain and exhaustion crashed through you. As if teaching wasn’t tiring enough in itself, trying to wrangle 26 3rd graders while holding back the little you ate of your breakfast was enough to completely knock you on your ass by lunch time, leaving you to lock yourself in your room after dropping your students off at the cafeteria, praying that the hour of peace and quiet would help you make it through the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, even with your door locked, your nosy co-workers needed to investigate why you hadn’t shown up to the staff lounge to eat, and were soon knocking on your window to demand answers for your absence.

“Mija, what’s going on? Why aren’t you at lunch?” Maria demanded as she barged through your door, quickly followed by Estelle and Linda. “I’ve been dying to tell you about what Carlos’s younger brother did today during math and- Oh, cariño, you look terrible.” Maria’s train of thought seemed to come to a complete halt as soon as she locked eyes with you, hunched over your desk with heavy eyes and grimaced face.

“Rude, Maria, dios mío.” Linda groaned, giving Maria a sharp jab to her ribs at her friend’s bluntness before looking over at you, trying her best not to comment as directly at your disheveled appearance. “No offense, honey, but you look like you do not feel well at all. Are you okay?”

“It’s fine, I feel terrible so I’m sure I don’t look any better.” You huffed, scrunching your face as you stood up, trying to fight your nausea as you came to your feet. “I’ve been throwing up all morning, and when I’m not throwing up, I feel so nauseous that I want to throw up.”

“Mija, why are you not at home?! I need to come over and smack some sense into that husband of yours for letting you go to work today.” Maria scolded, glaring at you with disapproval, arms crossed against her chest.

“It’s not Javi’s fault, he tried to get me to stay home today too, but you guys know what a pain it is to make sub plans. It was just easier to come in today.” You sighed, your eyes traveling back and forth between your co-workers in front of you and the trash can beside your desk, feeling an uncomfortable lump creeping up from your stomach and into your throat.

“So Javi’s not sick?” Estelle asked, shaking your head no silently in response.

“Well it’s probably not food poisoning then…” Linda pondered, trying to diagnose your ailments, “unless you ate the grilled cheese they were serving in the cafeteria yesterday, because that definitely looked questionable. No kids in your class with the stomach bug? Chucho’s not sick?”

You shook your head no again, this time, your eyes solely locked on the trash can, trying with everything in you to keep down whatever was bubbling up.

The women stood quietly, thinking to themselves to try and come up with a solution for your sickness, seemingly stumped, until an ear to ear grin began to creep across Maria’s face.

“Maybe it is Javi’s fault.”

“Aye, aye, aye, Maria, what do you think the man did, try to poison her?” Estelle asked, the rest of you staring at Maria in complete confusion as to how Javi had anything to do with your current state.

It was then that Linda suddenly seemed to catch on to Maria’s subtle suggestion, her smile lighting up just as bright as her co-workers while you stood there in an ever nauseous confusion.

“What am I missing?” Estelle asked, looking back and forth between Linda and Maria, the two ladies both standing with arms crossed and brows raised, smirking and nodding at their friend.

“Mija, any chance that you don’t just feel nauseous, hmmm? Perhaps, emotional, tired, achy?”

“I- I mean, yeah, but it’s the second week of school, Maria, I think everyone is tired and emotional and probably achy, too.” You groaned, scrunching your face and swallowing hard to keep the unpleasant feeling creeping up your throat at bay.

“Oooooooooohhhhhh.” Estelle cooed, connecting the dots of Maria’s cryptic symptom description, the 3 ladies standing in a giddy mutual suspicion for your current state.

You stood there, in a silent stare down of confusion, eyes darting back and forth between your giggling co-workers, waiting in an anxious anticipation for you to read their minds and understand why they were suddenly filled with so much glee watching you practically keel over at your desk.

Suddenly, it hit you.

A final, violent wave of nausea crashed through you, frantically reaching for your trashcan to bury your face in as you threw up what little you had managed to eat today, your newly emptied stomach making way for a new, very different type of wave than the one you had just experienced.

An inevitable wave of clarity. A surmounting wave of realization. A wave of piecing together all of the little clues your body had been leaving you.

Nauseous.

Tired.

Emotional.

Sore.

And now that you were thinking about it, your period was supposed to have started 3 days ago.

“Oh my god…” You whispered into your trash can, hands shaking and heart racing out of your chest. “Do you think- Do you think that I’m-”

“Mija, all I will say, is that when I found out I was pregnant with all three of my boys, I didn’t feel much different from how you are now.” Maria smirked, cutting off the rest of your drawn out thought.

Trying to find any words in your haze of disbelief, the shrill ringing of the lunch bell flooded your classroom, the 4 of you realizing that despite your new revelation, you had classrooms full of children you needed to go retrieve and teach for the rest of the day.

“Oh, of course this is when the lunch bell decides to ring…” Linda huffed, rolling her eyes as the dinging continued, the ladies now quickly scampering towards the door to avoid getting a scolding from the cafeteria workers about being late to pick up their class because they were chatting.

“W-wait-” You stammered, slowly trailing behind them, trying to catch their attention before they were too far gone, “Please don’t tell anyone about this. If Chucho or Javi find out before I can tell them, I-”

“Oh honey, I know we gossip and gab like it’s no one’s business, but all of us have been in your same shoes before and wouldn’t dare ruin your special moment for you, if that’s what it turns out to be.” Estelle smiled, gently rubbing your arm in reassurance, her eyes glistening with a genuine confirmation that your secret was safe with them.

“Besides,” Maria laughed, subtly lifting her gaze towards the sky, “If we ruined this moment for you and Javi, I think Lucia would find a way to come back from the dead, strike us all down where we stand, then drag us all back with her.”

“Thank you.” You sighed, softly smiling at your co-workers, grateful for their understanding, a small twinge of sadness behind all of your laughter, knowing how excited Javi’s mom would have been to find out there was a chance she was finally getting the grandchild she had always longed for.

“Now go, get out whatever is left of your lunch before the kids come back. We’ll get them from the lunchroom. Lord knows that you could be crawling towards your death bead and those little monsturos (monsters) wouldn’t show you any mercy.”

As if perfectly on cue, another unpleasant grumble began to growl in your stomach, hunching back over your poor trash can as your co-workers scurried away, leaving you to ponder how in the world you were going to make it through this afternoon if the nerve wracking suspense, or more likely, knee-buckling nausea, didn’t kill you first.

Some way or another, you managed to make it to the last bell, locking up your classroom and sprinting out to your car before the last busses had even left, driving like a NASCAR racer to the nearest drugstore. You left CVS with no less than 3 different types of pregnancy tests, not wanting to take any chances that something strange or faulty was going to stop you from getting the answers you had been dying to know since lunch.

The rest of your ride home was a terribly unsettling mixture of nerves and anticipation, wondering if the pounding feeling in your gut was because you actually needed to vomit, or you were just so anxious that you felt like you could at any second regardless.

As you pulled into your driveway, you were thankful to find that there wasn’t some strange reason that Javi had beaten you home today, grabbing your shopping bag of pregnancy tests from the front seat, and foregoing anything else you had to bring in from your car as you bolted to the front door.

Your dog, Bear, was ecstatic to greet you upon your return home, his tail wildly wagging and thumping as you walked through your entryway, feeling guilty for not giving him the same amount of prolonged love and attention you normally would when you returned home, rushing him to the backyard to go to the bathroom after being inside all day so you could do the same.

While Bear trotted around in your backyard, finding a good place to do his business, you were rushing over to your kitchen, rustling through your cupboards to find a cup you wouldn’t be mad had to go to waste because it had been filled with your pee. Eventually, you were able to find an old, chipped “Everything is Bigger in Texas” mug, with letters so faded that you honestly were even unaware of its existence until this point. Worst case, if it was a special mug that Javi secretly loved, you were sure a positive pregnancy test would warrant its use to be filled with your urine.

Bear let out a happy bark at the backdoor, stumbling his way into the house and immediately gluing himself to your side, practically in lock step with you as you grabbed your mug and CVS bag before making your way up the stairs to your bedroom, plowing open the attached bathroom door to spread your contents all over the countertop.

Normally, you would have been a little annoyed that Bear had followed you into the bathroom and plopped himself down right next to your feet as you sat on the toilet, awkwardly shifting the mug between your legs, focusing as hard as you could to pee, but there was something calming about your big, goofy, golden retriever settling right beside you, keeping you company.

After you had finished peeing way more than probably needed into the cup, you carefully set it next to you on the counter, grabbing each box of pregnancy tests and opening them to read the instruction manual inside before plucking a wrapped test out of each.

Your hands were shaking so badly at this point, you were shocked you hadn’t dropped anything yet, because knowing your luck, it would have been the cup of pee all over your bathroom floor. Carefully, you unwrapped each of your 3 tests with trembling hands, uncapping each before dipping them into the yellow liquid, ready to embark on the longest 5 minutes and 15 seconds of your life.

“1… 2… 3… 4… 5…”

With all of your tests dipped, you flipped them face down, looking over at the digital clock by your toothbrushes to see its bright red numbers read “4:52”, readying yourself to count down the seconds until it reached “4:57”.

Years may have well been passing with each minute that went by, anxiously pacing back and forth across the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, every single emotion you had ever felt in your entire life now festering at the forefront of your mind, feeling like your life was flashing before your eyes, time ticking down before 3 little plastic sticks determined if the course of your life was about to be forever changed.

The excitement of picturing your belly grow, carrying life that you and Javi had made, knowing what a good father Javi would be, and what an amazing family the two of you, maybe soon to be three of you would have together.

The anxiety of wondering if you were fit to be a mom, all the mistakes you could make in raising a tiny little human and bringing them into a world you wouldn’t always be able to protect them from.

The bittersweet melancholy of watching your friends and family embrace your child into their lives, showering it with love and joy, when some of the people that you and Javi had cared about most wouldn’t be there to partake.

The indescribable feeling of knowing that your life would never be the same- for better, for worse, through the highest highs and lowest lows, your journey would no longer be just about you or Javi, it would be for your own little family.

You could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest as you paced up and down the length of your bathroom, Bear trailing behind you in lock step as you took your final lap, watching the clock finally hit 4:57.

For as badly as you wanted to look, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the first test you grabbed still flipped over in your hands, test results facing the bathroom counter.

You took three deep breaths, each one longer and slower than the last, holding the test in your trembling hands before opening your eyes to see the fate of yours and Javi’s future laying in your palms. Because there in your hands, was the start to the rest of your lives.

Two pink lines.

You almost couldn’t believe it, frantically scrambling for the other two tests, flipping them over much more haphazardly than you had the first, praying with everything in you that the first test wasn’t just a fluke.

Two more sets of two pink lines.

“Oh my god…. Oh my god?!” You whispered to yourself, tears beginning to well in your eyes in blissful disbelief, mouth shooting over your hand to cover the audible gasp that escaped your lips, now stretched in the widest smile to have ever graced your face. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Oh my god?!” You couldn’t stop chanting it, the phrase spilling out of your mouth as the only sentence your brain could manage to comprehend.

Holding each test up one at a time, over and over, you kept inspecting them, making sure your eyes weren’t playing some sort of dirty trick on you, that you were imagining the extra line you had wanted so desperately to be there. After holding up each test in every corner of your bathroom, triple checking under any different lighting you could find, there was absolutely no denying that you weren’t crazy or imagining things in the slightest.

You were pregnant.

You stared at your tests for what felt like hours, so overwhelmed with joy and emotion by those two pink lines, that there was nothing else in the world that existed in that moment besides you and the new life you had beginning to grow inside you. Tears welled in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you tried to process everything you were feeling, body trembling with astonishment and shock.

You were going to be a mom. Javi was going to be a dad.

Javi was going to be a dad.

Javi.

Oh my god, you needed to tell Javi.

The realization struck you enough to rattle you out of your staggered state, heart racing even faster as you came to the realization that you needed to let your husband in on the happiest news of your life.

So lost in your own world upstairs, you had been paying no attention to the time- For all you knew, past 4:57, time simply didn’t exist anymore. But for everyone else that wasn’t living in your blissfully unaware bubble, including Javi, time existed just as it did on any other day, and the all too familiar of his truck pulling into the garage as the door rumbled open meant that the time of day he made his arrival at home had come.

When you thought about telling Javi about your pregnancy, you had imagined some sort of cute surprise for him- Balloons, a cute baby onesie, a pregnancy test wrapped up in a box, maybe even a mug with #1 dad on the side. But as Javi’s key turned in the door, his footsteps trailing downstairs, you knew there was no way you could keep your news a secret long enough to even make it out of the bathroom without telling him, and in all actuality, your body was still in such a state of shock that you don’t think it would have let you move, even if you tried.

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Javi shouted, tossing his keys and work bag on the kitchen counter, pausing for a moment as he waited for your response. Hearing Javi’s voice, Bear barreled through the bathroom door, sprinting downstairs to greet him, leaving you alone, still frozen in place, pregnancy test in hand.

“Hey, buddy!” You heard Javi greet your dog from your statue-esq position from the bathroom, “How’s my good boy, huh? Where’s your mom? Osita? Where are you, baby?” With a few happy barks, Bear was scrambling across the hardwood of the kitchen floor, bolting his way back up the stairs, paws thumping with every step. You could hear Javi beginning to follow behind, pace quickening as he followed the path of your dog.

“Hermosa? You upstairs?” You could sense the concern growing in Javi’s voice at your lack of response, making his way to the top of the stairs.

It was like the pathway from your brain to your mouth had completely shut down, trying to speak, to say anything to let Javi know where you were, but the sudden wave of nerves that had overtaken your body had only left you more stuck, praying that where you were was the first place he’d come to look.

“Baby, are you up here? Are you okay?” Javi asked, hearing his voice travel closer to you as he nearly sprinted down the hallway, finding his way to your shared bedroom. Seeing the light beaming out of your bathroom gave him some sense of relief that he may find you there, trying to steady his nervous breathing as he peeked through the doorway.

“J-Javi-” You sobbed, your tears immediately making Javi wrap his arms around you, embracing you in the tightest hug he could, cradling the back of your head as he held you pressed against his chest.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhhhhh, baby, it’s okay. I’m here.” Javi cooed, gently swaying you back and forth in his grasp, giving you a moment to collect yourself as he felt your tears begin to subside. “What’s wrong, Osita? Got me worried sick when I couldn’t find you.”

His hand shifted to cup your cheek, forcing your gaze up at him, carefully wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumb, the concern pooling in his big brown eyes only overwhelming you with more emotion.

You were honestly shocked that Javi hadn’t noticed the test still in your hand or the other two on the bathroom counter, quietly laughing through your happy tears, making Javi cock his head in utter confusion.

“Osita, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Javi asked, completely puzzled by your response.

You gently tilted your head towards the bathroom counter where your pregnancy tests lay scattered across its surface. At first, you were convinced that Javi was so concerned about you, he didn’t notice anything suspicious, his eyes quickly darting over to the counter before shifting back to you, his face even more confused than before.

You nodded back to the counter again, this time making the motion a little more obvious, staring at the tests until Javi’s gaze wandered in the same direction as yours, heart pounding in your chest as you watched his expression shift from complete and utter confusion to absolute disbelief.

Javi’s hand was trembling as he reached down towards the counter, carefully picking up one of the tests. With two glaringly obvious pink lines staring back at him, Javi’s jaw all but hit the floor while you watched in real time as he put together the pieces of your puzzle.

“Oh my- Holy Fuck. Holy Fuck. Osita, baby, oh my god. You’re- Oh my god. Baby, are- are you serious?” Javi whispered, his voice trembling in disbelief, convinced that what he was seeing was too good to be true.

“I took 3 different tests. They’re all positive. Javi… We’re gonna have a baby.” You smiled, wetness streaming down your cheeks as you beamed at your husband, watching the gears in his mind turn as he processed that what he had heard was real.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” He repeated, whispering it like the world’s most precious secret, the look on his face shifting from disbelief to pure and utter joy with each word.

“You’re gonna be a dad, Javi.”

“I’m- I’m gonna be a dad? I’m gonna be a dad. We’re really gonna have a baby?” He choked out, his smile so wide you were convinced his face had to hurt with how hard it was scrunched.

“We’re really gonna have a baby.” You confirmed, just as much as yourself as for him, reaching up to grab his face, making sure he watched your head nod in the happiest agreement you’d ever made to anyone.

Scooping his arms under your thighs, he hoisted you up to let your legs lock around the small of his back, spinning you around the bathroom, the two of you exploding his blissful laughter, giggles and tears while he peppered kisses all over your face.

“Oh, I love you so fucking much, Osita. I love both of you so fucking much. You're gonna be such a good mom.” Javi beamed, carefully setting you back down as he dropped to his knees in front of you, both hands splayed across your stomach while his peppering of kisses moved to your belly. “Oh my god. Holy fuck. You swear you’re being serious? You’re really pregnant?”

“Yes, I’m being serious, Jav! That’s why I bought 3 different tests. I wouldn’t have believed it either.” You giggled, cheeks sore from your smile.

“When did you- When did you find out?” Javi questioned, expression still plastered with the best bewildered astonishment you could imagine, hand still resting on your stomach as he stood up.

“Literally, like, 10 minutes before you got home. Sorry, I didn’t have a better way to surprise you, I picked up the tests on the way home and I-”

“Baby, why are you apologizing? You literally just gave me the best surprise I could have ever asked for. I’m so fucking happy. So, so, SO fucking happy.” Javi grinned, unable to keep from kissing you, barely letting you breathe with the way he was smothering you with excited pecks of his lips. “Holy shit. I can’t fucking believe it. We’re gonna have a baby.”

You could feel your heart swell at the way Javi’s hand had become instantly glued to your stomach, thumb rubbing across the cotton of your shirt, over and over, already filled with so much love and adoration for the soon to be new addition to your family.

“Makes a little more sense why I was such a jerk to you this morning when I was getting ready to leave.” You sighed, apologetically rolling your eyes at Javi for your snappy behavior before leaving for work.

“Honey, first of all, you were not a jerk, second of all, you’re pregnant, and even if you weren’t, I felt bad and just wanted to help you feel better.” Javi smiled, boyish grin still stretching ear to ear as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Is that what made you take a pregnancy test when you got home?”

“Oh you’ll get a kick outta this one.” You laughed, playfully raising an eyebrow at Javi, “Obviously I felt like shit at work today, which makes sense now, but the rest of my team came in during lunch time and were asking me how I could have gotten the stomach bug if no one else I knew had it, and you weren’t sick either, so it couldn’t have been food poisoning, either. Then of course, someone-”

“Maria?” Javi scoffed, knowing exactly where your story was heading

“Are we shocked? Yes, of course it was Maria.” You shook your head, the both of you laughing, “Anyways, she asked if I felt anything other than just nauseous, and after thinking about it, I realized that I’ve been crying at everything, my boobs hurt like a bitch, and I was supposed to get my period 3 days ago. She may be crazy, but sometimes, she knows what she’s talking about.”

“At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she insisted that regardless of being a boy or girl, this baby needs to be named Maria.” The two of you chuckled, Javi’s hand never leaving your stomach, thumb gently stroking over your t-shirt, his goofy grin subtly shifting to a more serious scrunch.

“You okay, Jav?” You asked, tilting your head at Javi’s new look.

“We should call the doctor’s office, right? Do you think they’re still open? Do we have to schedule an ultrasound or do they do that? Do you want me to go get you vitamins or did you already start taking those? Should I-”

“Easy, Papa Bear.” You snickered, somehow not surprised in the slightest that Javi had shifted into “Dad Mode” immediately, his mind automatically shifting to what would become the never ending worry of making sure that you and your baby got everything you’d ever need. “We can call tomorrow. We won’t even have an appointment for the next few weeks so it’ll be okay.”

“Few weeks? What do you mean?” Javi replied, looking even more distressed.

“Normally you don’t have an ultrasound done until like, 8 weeks along.”

“That’s way too long. 8 weeks?! How are we supposed to know everything’s okay?!”

You knew Javi’s panic was genuine, but you couldn’t help but giggle. You were well aware that Javi would make a great dad, but you had no idea that his protective dad instincts would set in only minutes after finding out the news that you were pregnant.

Your laughter only lasted so long until the same, uncomfortable feeling began to build in your throat, reaching down for the trash can next to the sink, wrenching up the nibbles of your lunch you thought you’d managed to keep down.

“Oh honey, shit- it’s okay, Osita.” Javi cooed, gently rubbing your back with your face still buried in the trash can.

“This is really adding to the magic of the moment, isn’t it? Oof, this baby is gonna give me a run for my money, huh?” You grimaced, pulling your head out of the waste basket, one of Javi’s hands on the small of your back, the other over your stomach.

“Nah. I do think she’s gonna end up being strong willed like her mom, though.” Javi smirked, gently kissing your forehead.

“Javi, I’ve been pregnant for all of 30 minutes, there’s no way you know if it’s a girl or not.”

“She’s a girl. I have a feeling.”

Month 2

“Javi, baby, I love you, but if you keep holding my hand this tight, I think you’re gonna break it.”

You were almost positive that Javi had been keeping a better track of the days counting down to your first ultrasound appointment than you had. He had even insisted on taking the entire day off work even though you weren’t leaving school until 12:00, and your appointment wasn’t until 2:00. Now that it was 2:15, sitting in your OBGYN’s office, waiting for your name to be called to see your doctor, it was clear that your husband was much more of a nervous wreck than you figured you needed to account for.

“S-sorry. Sorry. I just really wanna see ‘em, ya know? Make sure everything’s okay.” Javi sighed, knowing he most definitely was more anxious than he needed to be, the hand not easing its grip on yours, gently rubbing your nearly invisible bump.

“I know, me too.” You smiled, rubbing your thumb back and forth across his palm for a few moments before lifting it up to your mouth to kiss it.

“Peña?” a voice called from the front of the waiting room, you and Javi perking up instantly at your last name.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the fact you knew it was taking everything in Javi not to sprint to the door the nurse was holding open for you, so excited to see your baby for the first time, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he would have jumped up on the exam table himself once you got to your room.

“How’s it going, Mom and Dad?” The nurse asked, smiling at you as you followed behind her down the hallway leading towards the exam rooms before stopping at a small cove at the front of the path. “We’re just gonna take some quick vitals and then we’ll get you all set up in the room okay?”

“It’s been good! Well besides feeling super nauseous and exhausted all the time, but ya know.” You laughed, giving the nurse a little shrug as you sat down in the chair next to the blood pressure machine as she began to take your vitals.

“But that’s normal though, right? Like, we shouldn’t be worried about that?” Javi asked, leg bouncing as he stood next to you, propped up against the wall.

“Yes, it’s all perfectly normal. Unfortunately, growing a baby isn’t always the most pleasant experience, so it’s very common, especially in the first trimester, for Mom to feel pretty worn out.” The nurse nodded, writing down some information before gesturing for you to step on the scale, taking a few more notes.

“Told you I’m okay.” You snickered, giving Javi a little nudge.

“I know, I just feel awful that you feel so miserable, ya know?” Javi sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling that this would be the first of many worried I told you so’s during this appointment.

“Alright, well we’re just gonna draw some blood and take a urine sample, and then we will have you all ready to meet with Dr. Davis, okay?” The nurse grinned, helping you back over to the chair to have your blood drawn, cocking her head at the pained look on your face.

“Is it um- can I do the urine test first? I need to pee so bad.” You grimaced, not wanting to throw off your nurse’s pattern of practice, but also worrying you were going to pee your pants if you didn’t go to the bathroom in the next thirty seconds.

“Oh, of course, my bad, go right ahead. Down the hall and to the left.” She smiled, handing off the collection cup as you practically sprinted down the hallway, your nurse and Javi laughing at your need for speed.

“First baby?” Your nurse asked, smirking at Javi, nervously gnawing on the inside of his cheeks.

“Y-yeah. How’d you know?” He asked.

“I’ve been doing this job for a long time, honey. Nine times out of ten, the dads are way more nervous than the moms are.” She grinned, tilting her head with a little shrug.

“Yeah, I’d uh- I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared out of my mind, but I- um, God, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to be a dad.” It’s a good thing you were still in the bathroom, because seeing the way Javi was beaming from ear to ear at finally becoming a father probably would have sent you into a spell of hormonal sobs. In the past few weeks, his adamant enthusiasm about his journey into fatherhood had you on the brink of tears nearly every day from how thankful you were for your amazing husband.

After your return with your very full cup of pee, and squeezing Javi’s hand extra tight through your blood draw, you were escorted down to your exam room, leaving you and Javi to patiently wait for your OBGYN’s arrival to let you get a first glimpse at your baby.

“You look really hot in that paper skirt.” Javi teased, raising his eyebrows at you, gently tugging at the thin covering you’d been offered for your bottom half to give your doctor easy access for your exam.

“You just like it because you can keep peeking underneath it and I don’t have anything on.” You sighed, playfully rolling your eyes back at him. You paused for a moment, taking a quiet deep breath as you stared down at your feet, Javi immediately picking up on your silent shift in tone.

“You okay, Osita?” He asked, gently grabbing your hand and interlocking it with his while his free hand splayed across your stomach.

“Yeah. I think all the nerves are actually starting to really kick in now, ya know? Like, we’re about to see our baby today for the first time.”

It would have been easy to blame your pregnancy hormones for the emotional rollercoaster you were experiencing in the OB’s office, but with the way Javi’s eyes were welling with tears too, you felt a little less crazy for being so overwhelmed by the thought of getting to see the tiny human you were growing inside you.

A quiet knock on the other side of the door was enough to startle you and Javi, turning your attention as a figure peeked through the small gap with a soft, and sweet voice.

“Mr. and Mrs. Peña?”

“H-hi, yeah, come in.” Javi stammered, eagerly inviting in your doctor, Dr. Davis.

“Hello, it’s so nice to see you two! How exciting that we’re here for our first visit!” Dr. Davis grinned, giving you and Javi each a friendly nod before settling into her rolling chair next to her desk, “How’s everything been going so far?”

The way Javi had begun to squeeze even tighter on your hand was making it nearly impossible not to giggle, giving him a little pinch of reassurance back before answering.

“Good so far. I mean, tired and nauseous, but other than that, can’t complain. I mean, obviously nervous, but also just really excited too.” You beamed, Dr. Davis smiling at your response before looking over at Javi, anxiously drumming the fingers of his free hand against his leg.

Well that’s good to hear. It most certainly is a very exciting and nervous time, especially with your first. How about you, Dad? How have you been doing?”

“Oh- m-me?” Javi asked, pointing to himself, shocked that Dr. Davis would have any interest in asking how he’d been, “Oh good, yeah, I mean, nervous as hell, but like, the good kind of nervous. Just wanna make sure I’m doing whatever I can to help.”

“Well Mr. Peña, it seems like you very clearly care about your wife and your baby, and if you keep that up, you’re doing everything you can.” Dr. Davis grinned, shooting you a little wink at the providing the reassurance your husband very clearly needed. “Alright, well I know one of our nurses already took some blood and urine samples, but we’re just gonna check a few things out and ask some questions, but after we finish with that, we’ll do our first ultrasound and get a chance to look at Baby, okay?”

“Okay.” You and Javi answered in sync, smiling at each other from your timely response.

It seemed that Javi’s nerves had at least eased a little bit, until you watched him fumble around in the back pocket of his jeans, face growing panicked at the lack of whatever he seemed to be looking for.

“You okay, Jav?”

“Yeah, I just, shit-” He paused, grimacing at his empty pocket, “I thought I bought a notepad and pen to write stuff down on, but I must have left it in the car…”

Quietly chuckling to herself, Dr. Davis reached into a drawer in her desk, pulling out a sheet of blank paper, along with one of the pens from her coat pocket to pass over to Javi.

“T-thanks.” Javi sighed sheepishly, trying to hide his embarrassment as he took the pen and paper.

“Mr. Peña, if there is one thing you most certainly do not need to worry about, it’s how loved this baby of yours is going to be.”

While you had truly considered giving Javi shit about how hell bent he was on documenting every single word that came out of Dr. Davis’s mouth, 45 minutes into your appointment, you couldn’t have been more thankful you had someone there taking notes for you, all of the information, questions, and hypotheticals of bringing a new baby into the world making your head spin.

All of the questions you had planned had seemed to have magically disappeared from your brain, overwhelming anxiety about trying to plan for the health and safety of your future child throwing everything else in your mind out the window.

While it had taken a moment for you to even realize how stressed you were, Javi had picked up on it immediately, suddenly shifting to become the anchor in your storm that you had been for him. With one hand on your stomach, and the other furiously scratching down notes, Javi had managed to remember every question the two of you had talked about, making sure to have Dr. Davis elaborate on anything you even seemed slightly concerned about.

Even though you had felt like a terrible mother for already being too overwhelmed to remember a few simple questions, the way Javi had switched into Dad Mode without a single thought or ask had filled you with such calm and relief, falling even more in love with him at how immediately protective he became without so much as a second thought.

After an hour and two full pages, front and back, filled with Javi’s chicken scratch, Dr. Davis had finished with her part of the exam, and Javi had asked enough questions to fill a small book. You weren’t sure it was because you physically couldn’t fathom coming up with another question to ask, or if both of your brains were just too overwhelmed with information to come up with anything else, but after a confirmation you and Javi had nothing else to ask as of right now, she lit up as she asked the question the two of you had been dying to hear since you booked your appointment.

“Would you like to see Baby Peña for the first time?”

Despite how badly your hands were shaking, as Javi intertwined his fingers with yours, you were convinced his were trembling even worse, his eyes locked on on every move Dr. Davis had to make as she set up for your ultrasound.

“Alright, this is going to be a little bit cold here, sorry.” Dr. Davis apologized, squirting a small glob of gel onto your lower stomach, trying your best not to squirm and giggle at the ticklish sensation.

After a few more clicks on her keyboard, Dr. Davis had grabbed the ultrasound transducer, gently beginning to rub the tool back and forth across your belly as fuzzy, black and white images began to appear on her screen.

“Now, with you almost being nine weeks, we’re most likely only going to see a blob of a head and a body, but I’m hoping that we may also get to hear Baby’s heartbeat for the first time as well.” Dr. Davis smiled, watching yours and Javi’s faces light up.

“I’m sure whatever they look like, they’ll be the most perfect little blob I’ve ever seen.” Javi grinned, squeezing your hand even tighter, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve never been more excited to see a black and white blob in my entire life.” You giggled softly, Javi and Dr. Davis snickering right along with you.

“Oh, give me one second, I think we found ‘em.” Dr. Davis muttered to herself, clicking on a few more buttons on her keyboard and turning the screen back towards her to get a better view.

In the few moments of silence, you looked up at Javi, trying your best to fight the tears you had welling in the corners of your eyes at the thought of finally being able to see your baby for the first time. As Javi looked back down at you, you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at the way his eyes were already welling too, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from bursting into full blown tears.

Although you had never known Javi before his newly settled life in Laredo, it was moments like these where you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that a man who had once chased down the most hardened Cartel criminals in the entire world, who had written off any chance at a ‘normal’ life for himself, had turned out to be the biggest softie in the entire world, head over heels in love with you, trying to keep from sobbing as he prepared himself for seeing his baby for the first time.

Watching you snicker to yourself, Javi rolled his eyes, shaking his head as you teased him, quietly mouthing a playful “Shut up” to you, knowing damn well he was already a mess without even seeing your black and white blob for the first time.

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Peña, are you ready to see your baby?”

The two of you quietly nodded, each taking a long, shaky deep breath as Dr. Davis slowly turned her screen back towards you, finger pointed at a small shape in the middle of her display.

“There’s Baby Peña.” She smiled softly, gently circling around where her finger had been pointing.

As yours and Javi shifted your gazes from each others’ to the small screen beside you, a tiny, bean shaped form appeared, gently shifting with the black and white static of the machine.

There, in front of you, was your baby.

“T-that’s- that’s really them?” Javi stuttered, eyes excitedly darting back and forth between you, the screen and Dr. Davis, smile beaming so wide, you wouldn’t be surprised if his cheeks hurt for weeks after.

“That’s really them.” Dr. Davis answered, smiling at the pure bliss radiating off of you and Javi.

“That’s our baby, Jav.” You whispered, disregarding any attempts to keep from crying, too overwhelmed with the joy and excitement of seeing your child for the first time, “That’s really them.”

You and Javi could have stared at the screen for hours, taking in every single detail your minds could commit to memory, streams of happy tears continuously flowing from the both of you, completely overjoyed to finally get the first glimpse at the life you had created together.

“Would you two like to hear the heartbeat? I think I’ll be able to pick it up!” Dr. Davis asked, clacking on a few more keys.

“Only if you wanna make me cry more.” You sniffled, “God, sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Honey, after 20 years at this practice, I’ve seen just about every reaction under the sun. Do not worry. I was the same way when I had my first, too.” She paused, typing on a few more buttons and focusing on her screen, giving Javi a few seconds to help console you with sweet kisses across your temple, “alrighty, baby seems to be cooperating, so here is the heartbeat!”

You and Javi held your breath, time standing still, until a light, rhythmic thump began to echo throughout the room, eyes going wide hearing your baby’s heartbeat.

“Holy shit…” Javi whispered in disbelief, looking down at you with an ear to ear grin and watering eyes. “Baby, holy shit, that’s- that’s ours. That’s our baby.”

You and Javi sat still, time seeming to freeze around you as the soft thump of your baby’s heartbeat flooding you with a wave of love and excitement you had never felt before, so overwhelmed with euphoria, you could have sat and listened to the sound for hours.

“Everything about the baby looks absolutely great so far. Glad we were able to catch the heartbeat as well. I’m guessing you’d probably like some ultrasound pictures to take home with you?” Dr. Davis asked, smiling with a grin that very clearly told you she already knew the answer.

“Yes.” You and Javi agreed in unison, barely letting Dr. Davis finish her sentence before you answered.

“Alright. Let me capture a few images here,” Dr. Davis paused, focusing in on the screen while moving the ultrasound around on your lower stomach before saving the image displayed next to you, “and we should be good! We’ll have these ready for you when you go to check out. Any other questions before I send you two, or should I say, three, off today?”

“N-no, I think I’m good. You have any other questions, honey?” Javi asked, interlacing his fingers with yours before gently kissing your forehead.

“Well, um- actually- I uh, I guess I do have one more.” You stammered, quietly laughing to yourself, catching Javi’s attention, “Is it um- It’s okay for us to have sex still, right?”

You looked over at Javi with a sheepish grin, snickering at the way his eyes had gone wide in pleasant surprise at your question. With how nauseous and tired you had been feeling, combined with Javi’s rampant nerves that even if you were up to it, he was going to hurt the baby, it had been over a month since the two of you had last gone at it. Sweet Javi had never brought it up once, so concerned with your well being that you knew he’d stick to taking care of himself by himself as long as he needed to- a small price to pay for you literally growing his child inside you. But now that you were finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel for feeling like you had been hit by a bus every day, you knew it wouldn’t be much longer until you were going to need to break your self-induced run of pregnant celibacy. And when that time came, you knew even then, Javi wasn’t doing anything unless it had a doctor’s seal of approval.

“Perfectly normal question. Yes, as long as you feel up to it, it’s absolutely safe. If you feel any discomfort or pain during intercourse, just give us a call and let us know and we can schedule an appointment, but other than that, yes, it’s perfectly okay.” Dr. Davis smiled, laughing at the way Javi was trying his best to keep from smirking.

“Y-you’re sure it’s okay to-”

“Yes, I’m sure, Mr. Peña.” Dr. Davis chuckled, cutting off Javi’s sentence before he could finish asking his question. “Alright, why don’t we get you two checked out, and Laura at the front desk can get your next appointment scheduled for you. Have a wonderful rest of your day, and I’ll see you soon. Feel free to call if you have any questions.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, you and Javi both giving Dr. Davis a wave as she exited the room, letting the door quietly close behind her.

“I hope you know I would fuck you right here, right now in this doctor’s office, paper skirt and all.” Javi smirked, eyeing you up and down as you slid off the edge of the table, bunching up your thin, crinkly covering to throw into the trash before reaching for your pants folded up on the chair next to you.

“I knew the doctor’s office paper skirt would really do it for you.” You giggled, shimmying up your underwear and pants as you playfully rolled your eyes at Javi.

“I hope you didn’t ask because of me. You know I’ll do whatever you need me to. If you don’t want me to touch you for the next 7 months, I truly am okay. I just want you to feel comfortable, baby.” Javi sighed, his tone shifting to genuine and sincere, hitting you with his big, brown puppy dog eyes as he wrapped his arm around your waist, thumb softly stroking your stomach.

“I know, Jav. Now that I’ve actually been starting to not feel completely awful and can focus on something other than not needing to throw up every 5 minutes, I wanted to make sure that I had the okay, so, ya know.” You grinned, raising your eyebrows at Javi, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Let’s go get this paperwork.” Javi smirked back, giving you a quick peck on your lips and a playful wink, collecting all of his notes as he opened the door for you, making it incredibly obvious that he was checking you out as you passed by him.

“Horndog.” You giggled, pretending to scold him.

“I’m not the one who asked, Osita.”

You were positive that Javi’s hand hadn’t left your hip, hand, stomach or thigh from the moment you had left the doctor’s office, his thumb gently rubbing in soft circles against you, accompanied the dimple creasing in the corner of his cheek from the way his boyish smirk was plastered across his face the entire drive home.

It was almost comical at the way Javi was so eager to help you out of the car and into the house, carefully helping you to put away everything from the appointment, asking you if there was anything that you needed, following you around the kitchen like a wide eyed puppy.

You felt butterflies swirl in your stomach in a way that wasn’t about to make you vomit for the first time in weeks, heart swelling at the way you could tell Javi was patiently and nervously waiting for you to make a move before he dared to do anything, knowing he would keep good on his promise to let you take the lead.

“Y-you sure you don’t need anything else? Lunch? More water? A nap?” Javi asked, resting his hip against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, trying his best to act nonchalant as you approached after noting down your next appointment date on your calendar.

“Nope.” You grinned, popping the “P” at the end of the word, reaching out to grab at his waist, toying with the belt loops of his jeans, watching the denim of his pants begin to tent.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. Just because the doctor gave you the okay, if you’re not comfortable, I-”

Before he could finish, you cut him off with a kiss, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your lips lock with his, practically feeling him melt under your touch as his bulge poked at your thigh, continuing to grow as you rubbed against it.

“Javier Peña, if you don’t take me upstairs and put your dick inside me right now, I swear.” You giggled in between kisses before you let out a gasp, Javi scooping his arms under your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist, frantically but carefully carrying you across the living room and up the stairs, letting his back push open the bedroom door.

Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, caging his body over yours while he planted soft kisses down your neck and chest, feeling his lips smirk as they gently pressed against the barely there swell of your stomach.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” Javi murmured under his breath, fingers toying with your waistband to tug your pants and underwear down your legs, letting them fall into a crumpled pile on the floor below you. “So fucking beautiful growing our baby.”

Javi settled himself between your thighs, gently parting them to reveal the mess of slick and arousal coating the inside of them. You propped yourself up on your elbows, breath already heavy as you watched Javi run his fingers through your soaked folds, throwing your head back in delight while he slowly began to rub at your throbbing clit.

Because you had been so preoccupied with the constant nausea and fatigue from the first few weeks of creating another living human being inside of you, it wasn’t until now you were becoming blatantly aware of how much more sensitive you were down there, your stomach already swirling with heightened sensation after a few seconds of Javi touching you.

“Holy fuck-” You stammered, jaw going slack in pleasure, immediately catching Javi’s attention.

“Good holy fuck or bad holy fuck?” He asked, concern flooding the sweet chocolate brown of his eyes.

“Good holy fuck, oh my god. I feel like I’m about to cum already.” You whimpered, the worry washing from Javi’s face at your response, his once furrowed brow quickly replaced with a delighted smirk you could practically feel as buried his head between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit.

If his fingers weren’t enough to make you feel like you were already on the edge of collapse, the slow and calculated drags of his tongue up and down your cunt most definitely were. One of your hands was instantly shooting down to brace yourself in the thick curls of Javi’s hair while the other one fisted at your bedsheets for dear life, readying yourself to face the rapid tingle growing at the base of your spine.

The response to warmth and wet of his tongue swirling against your sensitive bundle of nerves was enough to make you whimper like he had been fucking you with his mouth for hours, not mere minutes, coil tightening in your stomach with every lick.

“Fuck, Javi. Oh fuck, baby.” You moaned, grip tightening around your bedsheets, soft fabric curling between your fingers.

All it took was a little more pressure from the flat of his tongue before you could feel yourself on the brink of collapse, pleasure starting to creep up your legs and through your core.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck- fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-ahhhh!” You sobbed, throwing your head back in bliss as your orgasm crashed through you, every inch of your body lighting up as you came. You could have sworn you were seeing stars, cutting some slack to your pregnancy hormones after weeks of being keeled over in exchange for one of the most intense orgasms you’d had in a while.

Javi pulled his head out from in between your legs, smirking in awe of the way your moans fell from your slack jaw as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, mustache soaked with your slick.

“You okay, baby girl?” He asked, peppering soft kisses to the insides of your thighs as you came back too, emerging from your post orgasmic fog.

“Javi, holy fuck.” You gasped, still panting, “Oh my god, that felt so good.”

“Yeah? Came so well for me, Momma.” Javi cooed, letting his lips trail up your hips and stomach, taking extra time to let his lips linger on the barely there swell of your belly before shedding your top and bra, dropping them next to your crumpled up bottoms.

“Fuck- Need you to fuck me, Javi. Please, baby.” You moaned, reaching out to unbutton Javi’s jeans, erection already straining at the denim and zipper of his pants. Javi grinned, happily helping you tug his pants and underwear from his hips, quickly followed by his shirt, giving you a chance to gawk at his handsome, naked figure.

You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his already hard length, pumping him a few times with your hand before gently guiding him towards your entrance while both your bodies fell towards the mattress, Javi hovering over you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Javi whispered against your skin between gentle presses of his lips against your neck, “If you’re uncomfortable or anything, just let me-”

“Javier Peña, if you do not put your dick inside me right now, I might cry.” You giggled softly, giddy smiles growing across both your faces as Javi ran his tip between your folds, collecting the slick pooling between them.

Gently, Javi pushed himself inside your heat, letting him slowly pump in and out of you a few times before you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with a confused stare, feeling that something was off.

“You can put it all the way in Jav.” You laughed, realizing Javi was barely pushing himself inside of you with each movement of his hips.

“I don’t- I don’t wanna hurt the baby.” Javi grimaced sheepishly.

“Javi…” You giggled, titling your head at him, “Baby, you’re big, but you’re not that big.”

Javi sighed, quietly laughing to himself at your playful scolding before leaning down to softly press his lips to yours.

“Just trying to be gentle, Osita.”

“I’m pregnant, not made of glass.” You teased, biting down on your lip as you laughed, only for your jaw to drop as Javi slid deeper into your cunt, pressing his entire length in you.

“Fuck, Javi…” You whimpered, head hitting the back of the mattress, trying to compose yourself from falling apart right then and there.

“Fuck, I missed this.” Javi whispered, nibbling at your ear as he slowly began to thrust his hips, taking his time with each stroke. “Driving me crazy every fuckin’ day with how beautiful you look carrying our baby.”

Javi’s hand trailed down your front, softly splaying across your stomach while his thumb circled your skin, the familiar movement catching your attention enough to peak your head up at your husband, looking almost as disheveled as you in terms of self-preservation.

Javi took a long, deep breath, furrowing his brows in concentration as he stared at the ceiling, the rhythm of his hips coming to a standstill.

“You alright there, big guy?” You giggled, knowing damn well the cause for the holdup.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I feel like a fucking teenager. First time we’ve fucked since we found out you were pregnant and I’m about to show up like some sort of fucking two pump chump ‘cause I can’t keep it together.” Javi groaned, eyes still glued to the drywall above him in embarrassment.

“Javi, baby, look at me.” You smiled, smirking at him.

“I can’t, unless you want this to be over right now.”

“While that’s very flattering, I find that very hard to believe, considering I threw up twice before we left for this doctor’s appointment and ate half a jar of pickles on the drive home and smell like I’ve been living inside a pickle factory for the better part of the past year.”

“Jesus Christ.” He laughed, your joke enough to make him break, shifting his gaze down back at you.

“Baby, you’re fine. Considering you deliver 99.9% of the time, and this is the first we’re having sex in a month and a half, I was planning on cutting you some slack.” You teased, giving him a little nudge, “Also, did you forget how you made me cum like, crazy hard 5 minutes ago? I didn’t realize how sensitive I was gonna be, and not to boost your ego any more than I have, but it’s not gonna take much for you to get me there.”

Javi smiled, pecking kisses along your neck and collarbone as he brought the pads of his fingers to your clit, circling with just enough pressure to already send you reeling, beginning to pick back up the pace he had forgone.

Your breath instantly hitched in the back of your throat, sucking the air out of your lungs as the head of Javi’s cock rammed perfectly into your g-spot. That, accompanied by the pads of his fingers swirling against your clit, had you absolutely reeling, whimpering and moaning with each snap of his hips.

“Fuck me. Feel so fucking good, Osita.” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, his free hand running up the back of your leg, gently pressing your thigh closer to your stomach, stretching you out in the way he knew drove you absolutely crazy.

“Oh Javi, fuck, baby, holy fuck-” You whined, pleasure already swirling in your stomach.

“That's my girl. Fuck, I can't wait to get you pregnant again, let everyone see how you're all mine carrying our baby. Gonna be such a good Mom, giving us a family, making me a dad. Oh fuck-” Javi groaned, his words hot against your skin between kisses along your neck and shoulder blade, shifting his grasp to cup one of your swollen breasts in his palm, fingers gently toying with the hardened buds of your nipples.

The added sensation was all it took to send you over the edge, orgasm crashing through your body with an unforgiving wave of intensity, pleasure radiating through every inch of you as your cunt clamped down around Javi's cock, gushing with your arousal as you came.

Knowing you had reached your end, Javi began to chase his own high, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as your body melded with his, nearly going limp in his grasp from how good he had made you feel.

“Mierda- fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up, I have- fuck- so much cum for you, and I- oh fuck!”

Before he could ramble on any further, it only took a few more thrusts of Javi’s hips before he was spilling inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls as he came, palm splayed across the barely there swell of your stomach, holding you in place against the mattress.

Your chests heaved in sync, breathless from a fast and furious performance after weeks of no sex, the both of you laughing at yourselves for your record breaking timing of the events that had just occurred.

“That may be the fastest that either of us have came.” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge before your face fell from a happy grin to sheepish frown, “Sorry that it’s been so long. You’ve been so patient, and with how nauseous I’ve been and-”

“Nuh uh,” Javi shook his head, the plush of his bottom lip in a serious pout, “None of that. You do not need to apologize for anything. Honey, you’re growing a whole person inside of you. Our kid. All I wanna do is be there for whatever you need. Regardless of if that means this or not.”

It should have been no surprise to you that tears were already beginning to well in your eyes, Javi’s consistently gentle and caring demeanor towards you with anything you’ve needed these past 8 weeks bringing you to the verge of tears from his sweetness practically on demand.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s good tears,” You sniffled, sighing at your own dramatics from your hormones as Javi wiped the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumb, “You’re just always so good to me, and I love you so much, and you’re gonna be such a good dad.”

“I love you too, Osita.” Javi smiled, softly cupping your belly in his grasp, “Whatever you need, you know I’ll always be there, okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled back, rolling over to press your head against his chest, laying for a moment in serene silence until a low and long grumble sung from your stomach. “Does that include bringing me up the bag of sour gummy worms so I can eat them in bed and then take a nap?”

“Of course it does.” Javi chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pressing himself up off of the bed with a grunt and slipping his boxers back on, “Anything else Baby wants?”

“Whatever’s left of that chicken sandwich I had yesterday. And a glass of water. Please.” You grimaced sheepishly, shrugging at Javi as you tacked on to your list of requests. “And can you make sure the water is, like-”

“90% ice cubes and 10% water?” Javi smirked, finishing the rest of your sentence and laughing to himself as you nodded your head. “Be right back.”

Hey, Jav?”

“Yeah, baby?” Javi answered, peeking his head back in the door he had just exited from.

“We love you.”

“I love you both of you too, Osita. More than you fucking know.”

3 Months

“I swear I think they already know.”

“Honey, how could they know?”

“I don’t know, Connie just keeps giving me this look like she knows something.”

After last year’s Thanksgiving extravaganza at Chucho’s ranch, where your family and the Murphy’s had joined together to celebrate your engagement, it seemed like an easy choice on everyone’s part to rinse and repeat for this year.

It had been killing you and Javi to keep Baby Peña a secret for this long, but now that you had finally broken free of the first trimester and everyone you wanted to be the first to hear the news gathered together, Thanksgiving had seemed like the perfect day to announce that in a few months, a third member of the Peña family would be arriving.

That is, if someone didn’t spill the beans on your surprise based on their intuition.

With you and Javi alone in the kitchen finishing up the rest of the mashed potatoes before dinner, he discreetly ran his hand across your stomach, smiling at the barely there bump hidden under your sweater.

“It’s just Connie being Connie.” Javi smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “Besides, won’t be a surprise for that much longer.”

“There’s a surprise?!” Your niece Olivia exclaimed, her sister and the Murphy girls barging into the kitchen behind her, scaring the daylights out of you and Javi.

“Holy sh- cow, Liv, I didn’t see you there, sweetie!” You gasped, clutching your chest in shock, Javi’s hand immediately dropping from your stomach and diving into the pocket of his jeans.

“Surprise?” Steve asked, following behind the girls, arms crossed over his chest, “is the surprise that your aunt and uncle are actually cookin’ instead of smoochin’ back here?”

“Ewwwwwwww!” The girls exclaimed, giggling as they stuck out their tongues before scampering away back to the living room.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Javi replied dryly, rolling his eyes at his friend.

“Glad to see we’re keepin’ it PG in here.” Steve chuckled, giving Javi a little nudge of his elbow, “Seriously though, is there a surprise I should be knowin’ about?”

“The surprise,” you grunted, lifting up the giant pot of potatoes you had just finished mashing and passing them off to Steve, trying to catch his balance with the newfound weight in his hands, “is that you get to carry these potatoes out to the table! Thank you so much!”

“Pretty shitty fuckin’ surprise, if you ask me.” Steve groaned, scoffing at his newly appointed task while you and Javi laughed.

“Tell everyone it’s time to eat, too. We just have a few more dishes to clean up!” You added, smirking at Steve’s annoyance.

“Now I’m on wranglin’ duty, too? Damn, I regret ever comin’ in here.”

With Steve mumbling to himself as he wandered out of the kitchen, potatoes in hand, you and Javi found yourselves alone again, smiling at each other and shaking your heads at your close call encounter.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m sure Steve has no fucking clue, and it’ll be a complete surprise to him.” Javi chuckled, grabbing a few dishes off the counter and throwing them into the sink.

“Now that, I’ll believe.” You giggled, nodding in agreement as you brought the last of the pots and pans over to be washed. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous to tell everyone, I should feel relieved that we don’t have to keep this a secret anymore.”

“Because it’s kind of a big deal, mi amor.” Javi laughed, giving you a little nudge, “I’m nervous too, but excited nervous, ya know? Can’t wait to tell everyone about ‘em.”

“Stop it, or you’re gonna make me cry!” You sighed, trying to hold back your tears and Javi’s sweet smile. “Okay, everything’s good to go right? We should probably get out there before Steve comes barging in again.”

“Good to go, Osita. Let’s get Baby some mashed potatoes.”

Thanksgiving at Chucho’s was quickly becoming your favorite new tradition, your heart overflowing with so much love and joy to have everyone you cared about together in one place, the best parts of your life overlapping so perfectly.

On top of your meal being absolutely delicious, your family, the Murphy’s and Chucho nearly had you shooting the better part of your spoonful of mashed potatoes out of your nose, hearing the story of the time a toddler Javi nearly got his head stuck in a Thanksgiving turkey.

If you weren’t already pregnant, you had most certainly eaten enough food for several people, thankful you had chosen a dress instead of any sort of pants where you’d have to wrestle with the better part of a waistband for the rest of the night.

Despite their hungry appetites, all of the kids at the table had disappeared post-dinner time, running off the rest of their energy before dessert, leaving the rest of the adults at their seats, still weighed down by their digesting dinner.

“Damn, that was so good. Props to you on the turkey, Chucho, that bird’s about to put me in a coma.” Your brother David sighed, leaning back in his chair to unbutton his pants.

“Jesus Christ, you animal, we are in someone else’s home! Button up your goddamn pants!” Your dad groaned, slapping David in the chest and nearly knocking him out of his seat.

“No, he’s onto somethin’. I’m ‘bout to do the same. Shit, I’m stuffed.” Steve agreed, trying to reach down to unbutton his own pants, quickly stopped by Connie with her own slap to the chest for her husband.

“Don’t encourage him, Steve. He’ll be pantless before you know it, and when he is, that’ll be your problem.” Your other brother, Charlie laughed, making David roll his eyes to the back of his head.

“Not my fault! I feel 9 months pregnant after eating all this, and after dessert, you can all meet my adorable food baby I’m about to give birth to.”

David’s comment had you and Javi nearly choking on your food, trying your best to conceal your coughs of shock and surprise at his comparison. It didn’t take much for the entire table to swing their heads towards the both of you, concerned by how you’d suddenly been so off-put, your food had become indigestible.

“Oh my gosh, are you two okay?” Connie asked, her nurse instincts kicking into high gear at the way you were trying to dislodge the chunk of mashed potatoes from the back of your throat.

“Yup- uh- yup, yeah, all um, all good.” Javi coughed, letting out one last hack, trying to make as little eye contact as possible, hoping they would assume the redness in his cheeks was from his poorly swallowed food.

“Yup, we’re uh- all good. Totally fine.” You chimed in, sneaking a desperate look at Javi as if to say “I swear they know and they’re just not telling us”.

“Jesus, don’t die on us. Didn’t know the birth of my Thanksgiving food baby would be so upsetting to you. Rude.” David teased, giving Charlie a little nudge as the two chuckled to themselves.

Despite the fact that you and Javi were planning on telling everyone about the addition to your family any minute, the shock and timing of it all seemed to have both of you frozen, eyes peeled to the ground and faces flushed, unsure of what to do.

The seconds of your silence seemed to drag on like hours, the both of you panicked as your eyes darted back and forth between each other’s, unable to do anything but shrug and let out a half laugh as your bodies grew hotter and hotter.

“Wait…” Connie hummed, her breaking of the awkward silence filing the room gathering everyone’s attention, watching her silently piece together everything that had just happened in her head. You knew it didn’t take long for her to solve the puzzle, her once confused demeanor now shifting as an ear to ear grin spread between her cheeks in delight, “Are you?”

“Is she what?” Steve asked, still completely oblivious to the clues Connie had been unraveling.

After a few more moments of staring at the two of you, one by one, you could see the subtle changes in everyone’s expression, now all looking at you with intense interest, ready to hang on your every word.

Well, everyone besides your brothers, dad, and Steve.

“What the hell do all of you know that we’re not getting?” Your dad asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“Javi, you in on this, bud?” Steve questioned, observant enough to at least recognize the smirk Javi was trying his very best to hide.

“Steve, seriously?!” Connie sighed, rolling her eyes at Steve’s utter lack of ability to read the room, “David just made a comment about being so full he felt pregnant, and the two of them just about choked on their food.”

“I dunno?! I mean, they ate a lotta food, too? Why are y’all actin’ like I’m supposed to be a fuckin’ mind reader?” Steve protested, trying to save his own ass from looking like a complete idiot.

After a few more seconds of more intense thinking than should have been necessary, you watched your brothers start to comprehend enough that they had begun smiling and nodding along with everyone else.

“No wait, I get it, ‘cause like, if she was pregnant, that like, she’d probably be all thrown off that I said something, right? So I mean-” David paused, a lightbulb finally going off in his brain, sending him into a wildly frazzled state, “Wait. Wait. OH MY GOD!”

At this point, your shock had disappeared, giggling and grinning at everyone’s realizations, looking over at Javi with the happiest of smiles as he splayed his hand across your stomach.

“What in the actual fuck am I missin’ out on?!” Steve groaned, still bewildered how everyone else at the table had seemed to figure out whatever mystery was unfolding before him.

“Jesus Christ Steve, I love ya, man, but this is almost getting physically painful.” Charlie laughed, giving Steve a little nudge.

“Lord help me.” Connie sighed, shaking her head as she grabbed her husband by the shoulders, “Steven Murphy. If they were shocked about David’s joke about being pregnant, that could probably mean that the two of them are…”

“WAIT, HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT, ARE YOU TWO HAVIN’ A BABY?” Steve exclaimed, shooting up out of his seat, at long last putting together everyone’s hints after everyone at dinner needed to all but spell it out for him.

“Took you long enough.” Javi smirked, laughing at his friend as his thumb rubbed gently over the swell of your stomach.

“We’re having a baby.” You grinned, everyone standing up and cheering in excitement for the both of you, rushing to where you and Javi were sitting to wrap you and Javi up in a smushed blob of a group hug, gently shaking you in their grasp.

You could feel your heart swell at the overwhelming love and joy that filled the room, tears pooling in your eyes at how much your future baby was already so loved by so many people.

“Oh honey, we’re so excited!” Your mom squealed, kissing both you and Javi on the cheeks as she wrapped the two of you in a bear hug.

“Does that mean we’re the aunts now?!” Olivia screeched, pointing at herself, her sisters and the Murphy girls with a giddy grin spread across her cheeks.

“Guess so, Kiddo.” You beamed, rustling her hair with one hand as the other wrapped around her to squeeze her in your grasp.

Despite the overwhelming chatter and excitement buzzing around the room, you couldn’t help but notice a soft sniffle of tears somewhere behind you, turning around to see Chucho, eyes watering and a smile beaming from ear to ear.

“Oh mis hijos (my children). I am so happy for you both. So happy.” Chucho hummed, gently wiping the tears streaming down his cheeks. You and Javi both stood up from your seats, letting Chucho’s arms wrap around you, pulling you in tight, “I never thought I would live to see the day I would be an abuelo (grandpa). Lucia would- dios mío (oh my god), she would be so thrilled. I know you two will be the best parents. I already love my nieto (grandchild) more than words can say.”

“Thanks, Pops.” Javi nodded, trying his best to fight back his own tears, looking back and forth between you and Chucho, overwhelmed with the love and joy of a life he’d never thought he’d live 10, 5, hell, even a year ago. There was never a world in which he thought he’d be happy, let alone in love, married and a father.

“She would be so proud of you, Javier. Your mamá would be so proud of you. And mija, I know she must be up there with your brother, the both of them smiling down on you with the biggest grins. Perhaps they didn’t have a chance to meet in this life, but I know without a doubt they are together, celebrating, and they will be every step of the way. ”

Chucho’s sweet sentiment had nearly everyone in tears, well, everyone but you, your tears shifting to full blown sobs from the overwhelming emotion and pregnancy hormones of knowing that even though two of the most important people in yours and Javi’s lives were no longer here, that there were still so many who loved your growing family with all of their hearts.

“Damn, who’s cuttin’ all the onions in here?” Your brother, David, asked, trying to laugh off the obvious tear lines streaming down his face, his joke enough to lighten the spirits of the rest of your friends and family, now all following suit with their soft chuckles and face wiping.

“Y’all gonna let us have a Thanksgiving where we don’t cry about how happy y’all are?” Steve joked, stepping over to give Javi a little nudge.

“Well, maybe next year. At least we can promise you the baby won’t steal the show and be born on Thanksgiving.” You chuckled, shaking your head at Steve’s ask, not realizing that everyone had gone back to a suspicious silence, looking around at each other, like they were all in on some secret you weren’t supposed to know about.

“So…. When’s uh, when’s the baby supposed to be born?” Your dad asked, raising an eyebrow at you and Javi.

“Oh Greg, seriously?” Your mom asked, slapping your dad across the chest.

“What?! Like you weren’t thinking about it, too!”

You looked over at Javi, the both of you confused why everyone suddenly now seemed to be doing silent calculations in their head, counting across their fingers until their conclusion either lead to hope, or disappointment.

“I’m already out, I know it.” Your brother grumbled in disappointment, consoling with your nieces, also shaking their heads.

“I gotta good feelin’ about this one.” Steve chuckled, rubbing his palms together in excitement, nudging a very clearly embarrassed Connie.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, scrunching his brow in confusion at everyone in the room.

“Oh my god….” You sighed, finally putting all of the pieces of the puzzle together, “Is this about your stupid bet that you made about how quickly we were gonna have a baby?!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that it’s stupid if I win my two hundred dollars…” Chucho admitted sheepishly, almost giggling at the way you and Javi rolled your eyes to the backs of your skulls that every one of your friends and family knew the two of you had about as much self control as two pent up, horny teenagers.

Next to you, Javi’s head was buried in his hands, cheeks bright pink with embarrassment, glancing over at you with a sincerely apologetic grimace that couldn’t help but make you laugh.

“Okay fine,” You sighed, everyone’s eyes lighting up as they waited on your every word, “we’ll tell you, but whoever wins this stupid bet better be buying us something incredibly nice for our baby shower. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, tell us so can profit off you two goin’ at it like rabbits.”

“Steven Murphy!” Connie scolded, stiff arming her husband, almost as embarrassed by his comment as you and Javi were by this whole ordeal.

“Sorry, sorry! Yeesh, god forbid a man give his buddy some shit! C’mon! Spill the beans! As long as the due date is the closest one to May 15th.”

“July 4th! July 4th! July 4th!” Your nieces and the Murphy girls began to chant, unsure if they really understood the concept of the bet at hand, or if they really just wanted to pick the Fourth of July because they liked it.

“Unless you’re growing the world's tiniest baby, I’m guessing it’s not April 22nd.” David sighed.

“Exactly nine months from our wedding? Really David?” You groaned, unamused by your brother’s prediction.

“What?! Miracles do happen! And it’s best that they happen when I’ve got money on the line!”

“Jesus Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, the two of you having no choice to laugh about your current predicament. “Fine. You wanna tell them, honey?”

“Okay. Baby Peña’s due date is….” You paused, playing into the anticipatory silence, “June 7th.”

“YES! I KNEW IT! PAY UP SUCKERS!”

With everyone’s teasing and taunting about the state of this bet, Connie Murphy’s voice would have been the last either of you would have guessed to be so excited about having the most educated guess about the day your baby was conceived.

“What?” Connie asked, giggling at your shock and surprise, “Can’t blame a girl for making an educated guess! And yes, I will buy whatever you want off your baby registry, fair?”

“Fair.” You and Javi agreed in unison, glad to at least be the bearer of some benefit from your embarrassment.

What you hadn’t noticed was the pack your brothers, Steve, Chucho and your dad had formed, quietly whispering to one another, nodding their heads in agreement as their eyes darted back between the group and you.

“What are all of you up to back there? Because if I know anything about the 5 of you, it’s probably nothing good.” You sassed, arms crossed over your chest, tilting your head in disapproval at the sheepish crew.

“Well… Do y’all know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“We lost all of our bettings on the due date, we need to make it back up somehow!”

“Plus, 50/50 is pretty damn good odds, if you ask me.”

“You all need help.” Connie sighed, pointing to the boys with a disgusted look on her face, making everyone else laugh.

“Says the lady who just won a bet we all were in on!” Steve retorted, throwing his hands up in defense.

“Well at least I wasn’t harassing them about it!” Connie protested, scolding the five with a stern look before turning back to you and Javi, “I mean… they do have a point though, 50/50 is good odds and I’ve already got a winning record.”

“You all are the worst, I hope you know that.” You sighed, shaking your head at everyone, unaware of the goofy grin spread across Javi’s face as he stood behind you.

“Oh! Oh! He knows somethin’!” Steve stammered, happily pointing at his friend and his ear to ear smile.

You couldn’t help but smile too, heat creeping through your cheeks at Javi’s adamant prediction and how happy it made him.

“I swear he doesn’t,” You promised, despite Javi’s glee, “Javi’s just absolutely convinced it’s a girl.”

You swore Javi’s smile grew even wider as his hand slid across your stomach, gently cradling it in his grasp as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I’d bet all my money it’s a girl.” Javi grinned, sweet brown eyes locking with yours, twinkling with enthusiasm at the thought of having a daughter.

“Better save that money then, Peña.” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “I hate to admit it, but you’re sure as shit never wrong. And lord knows if you’re endin’ up a girl dad like the rest of us, you’re gonna need to save all the money you can get.”

Giving your belly the softest squeeze, Javi looked you up and down, in complete adoration and shock that somehow, regardless of money, he had ended up the richest man alive with you by his side, and a baby on the way.

“It’ll be worth every fuckin’ penny.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle

@the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper

@nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

@msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler

@burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring @meetmeatyourworst

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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ladysharmaa · 4 months ago

Text

Wild Hearts

Jasper Hale x original character

Summary: When a new girl arrives at Forks, she seems to catch Jasper Hale's attention. However, he and his family are hiding a secret. What they don't know is that Evelyn has a secret of her own

Evelyn woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. She had slept in Jasper's room, asking him to stay until she fell asleep, but then he could join the rest of the vampires in the living room so he wouldn't be bothered by her sleeping. However, Jasper stayed with her the whole night, his fingers gently tracing the contours of her face, recording every detail in his mind.

The girl jumped out of bed, going downstairs and seeing the whole family in the living room, Emmett and Lucas playing a video game while Rosalie and Alice read a fashion magazine. Carlisle must have gone to work already.

"Morning! Where's Jasper and Esme?"

"They're in the kitchen making you breakfast." Lucas informed, his tongue hanging out in concentration as he tried to outwit the other vampire.

Evelyn nodded and then went to the kitchen. There Jasper had his eyes fixed on the frying pan while he stirred the eggs, Esme was giving him advice over his shoulder. "You're cooking breakfast? For me?"

"Of course, Lyn. At least I'm trying." Jasper appreciated the girl's looks as soon as he woke up. She was beautiful at any time of the day, but here everything seemed so normal. As if they had a normal relationship. "Did you sleep well?"

Evelyn yawned. "Yes, thank you. What did you do while I was sleeping?"

"Alice and Lucas went hunting. And Esme took the opportunity to teach me a few things about the art of cooking." Jasper informed, Esme had a big smile when she saw her son kiss Eve's forehead. "I want to know how to cook for you."

"Well, I'm sure I'll like everything you cook for me."

"Don't be late for class." Esme warned, before leaving the two alone in the kitchen. Jasper presented the dish to Evelyn, a proud smile on his face as she complimented the food.

"Now you'll have to cook for me every day." Evelyn teased, finishing her meal and putting her plate in the dishwasher.

"With pleasure."

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

A week later, Edward returned. The reactions were mixed, everyone was happy to have the vampire back, because that was the only way the family would be complete. However, they were also worried about the future. Especially Rosalie, who feared the consequences that Edward's obsession with the human could bring.

Evelyn stayed away from the discussion since it was a family problem. But she felt sorry for Edward, so many years living alone must be challenging.

Of course, Bella noticed Edward's return right away and the two exchanged intense looks all day. When leaving school, Jasper had an open umbrella protecting him and Evelyn while they followed the rest of the vampires to their cars. In the distance, Evelyn saw Bella looking at them.

"I'm just going to talk to Bella. I haven't done it in a long time, I don't want her to think I'm ignoring her because of Edward." the blonde warned.

"Take your umbrella," Jasper said, not wanting her to get caught in the rain and risk catching a cold.

"It's not raining that much. I'll be fine."

"How stubborn." Jasper groaned much to the amusement of the others who watched the demigod hurry to Bella's car.

"Hey, Bella. How are you enjoying Forks?"

"Hi, Evelyn." Bella smiled, a little embarrassed at having been caught staring at them. "It's fine. Not sure about the ice."

"You'll get used to it in no time, trust me." Evelyn reassured. "We haven't spoken in a while, you and Charlie have to go to the dinner sometime. I've already memorized your requests to make it quicker."

"Thanks." the brunette chuckled. Her father talked a lot about Evelyn and how Bella should try to be her friend, as she would be a good influence.

However, before Evelyn could continue the conversation, Bella's eyes widened and she took an instinctive step back, running into her car.

Evelyn, who had her back to the situation, realized a little too late that a car was coming towards them, out of control due to the ice. With her demigod instincts, she was going to push herself and the other girl away, in order to avoid being hit, but before she could do so, she felt a force come against them both.

As Bella fell to the ground, Edward's arms cushioning her fall, Evelyn hit her head on the pavement, immediately feeling a pain spread through her head. She looked around, her vision a little blurry, and saw the vampire's hand against Tyler's car, making it dent with an inhuman force. Bella looked at him in shock, as did Evelyn, although they had different motives.

When he smelled blood, Edward quickly turned to Evelyn, examining her injuries. He immediately felt a great deal of guilt for not having tried to break the demigod's fall, but he knew that she was less likely to be hurt than Bella, given her skills as a demigod.

In a flash, he stood up and left, leaving the students who had watched the assailant to run and surround the two girls. Standing up with some difficulty, Evelyn left the circle they had formed to try to find Jasper.

"Don't worry, Eve, we're calling an ambulance!" Jessica's voice could be heard from afar.

Ignoring her, Evelyn looked towards the parking lot. On the other side, still in the same place, she saw Jasper being held by Emmett and Lucas while Rosalie and Alice looked at her with concern and anger in their eyes because of what Edward had done. Jasper was breathing heavily, even though he didn't need to, trying to free himself from his brothers' grip. Why had they stopped him from running to her and saving her? He needed to get to Evelyn.

"Jasper, stop! Look, there's Eve, she's okay. Relax." Emmett tried to bring Jasper back to reality.

Finally, his amber eyes and Eve's blue ones met. Jasper stood completely still, his eyes scanning her entire body for injuries, finally stopping at the small cut on Evelyn's forehead. He clenched his jaw in anger. Before he tried to go to her again, she assured him, "I'm okay. I'm okay."

With one last look, the Cullens got into the car, probably heading to the hospital to talk to Carlisle. Evelyn sighed, knowing the trouble this would bring.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Evelyn just wanted to sleep. She had been taken by ambulance with Bella to the hospital, where Carlisle examined them. Neither of the girls had any serious injuries, just minor bruises from the fall and of course Evelyn's cut that only needed to be disinfected.

While Rosalie, who hugged her fiercely when she saw her, assuring her that she was fine, stayed talking to Carlisle and Edward with Bella, Evelyn left the hospital where Jasper was waiting for her.

When he saw the blonde, the vampire closed his eyes in relief, feeling that he could finally relax a little. Although all his family had already said that she was fine, Jasper had to confirm it with his own eyes. He met her halfway, bringing her into his arms, and letting her rest her head on his chest.

"You're okay." He kissed her hair, inhaling her scent.

"It was my fault. I let my guard down, Jasper! I should have heard the car arrive sooner, and then I could have pushed Bella and you wouldn't have had to put yourselves in danger." Evelyn explained, visibly upset, while Jasper tried to calm her down with his gift. "I'm sorry."

He grabbed her chin gently and forced her to look into his intense eyes. Instead of saying anything, he brought their faces closer until their lips brushed against each other. "May I?"

Evelyn didn't answer, she simply put her arms around Jasper's neck and connected their lips. It was an explosion of emotions, neither of them had ever felt anything like it. Evelyn's lips were soft, and Jasper's were cold, but that only made the girl want more. Jasper's hands were on Evelyn's waist, squeezing her waist gently. They never wanted to be apart, but the vampire knew the demigod had to breathe. So he pulled away a little, bringing their foreheads together.

"That was…" he murmured.

"Yeah." she agreed, biting her lower lip. She brought him in for another kiss.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The two of them had gone to Cullen's house, since the vampire insisted that Evelyn had to sleep. Now, she was in Jasper's room, in the bed he had bought specifically for her, and covered in huge blankets that Jasper insisted on putting on her. It was funny how her body was used to warm temperatures, but she craved the vampire's cold touch every moment of the day.

"How are Bella and Edward?"

"They're at the bottom of my list of worries," Jasper stated, still angry with his brother. He paced the room, eventually kneeling in front of Evelyn after placing a glass of water on the bedside table.

"Jasper, I'm fine. I promise. I've had much worse, this is just a small cut." Eve assured the worried man. "And I'm still sorry, I could have done more."

"That doesn't make me feel better, darling. And stop apologizing, I won't hear more of that. It was not your fault." He sighed, stroking Evelyn's wavy hair and lulling her to sleep. "You'll never leave my side again."

"So dramatic." Evelyn whispered, unable to fight the wave of sleepiness that was invading her system. With one last small smile, the demigod let herself fall into a deep sleep.

After spending a few more moments with Evelyn, who was looking extremely cute sleeping with a small pout on her lips, Jasper went to the living room where the rest of the family was. In truth, he wanted to stay by Evelyn's side, the events of the day had brought out his most protective side.

The blond had been so scared when he realized that a car was heading towards her and that her back was turned. He immediately tried to run to her, but Edward was faster and hit him on the shoulder as he passed him, which made Jasper lose his balance. This allowed Emmett and Lucas to grab him so they wouldn't have to find excuses for both him and Edward.

Jasper didn't even remember their grip, he could only focus on the commotion of people, and how he couldn't find Evelyn in the middle of the confusion.

When he saw her, he didn't think he had ever felt so relieved. But that cut on her forehead tormented his mind. She shouldn't have any wounds on her perfect skin.

Now in the living room, everyone was sitting on the couch, except for Rosalie who was pacing back and forth. They were all waiting for Edward and Carlisle to come back from the hospital.

As soon as the door to the house opened, in a flash Jasper was in front of Edward and threw him out of the house again with extreme force. Edward, unprepared, fell to the floor but quickly got to his feet ready to defend himself from Jasper who was even more frightening as he was protecting his mate.

Without giving Edward a chance to explain himself, Jasper punched him hard enough that the skin on his cheek shattered like porcelain. Jasper, in the distance, could hear Esme's gasp but he couldn't stop.

"Jasper, I'm sorry." Edward said sincerely, his arms outstretched in front of him as he took a step back. "I wasn't thinking straight, but since Eve is a demigod, she had a better chance of not getting hurt. Bella is just a human."

"Do I look like I care?!" Jasper asked with irony, his voice threatening and authoritative. "My mate could still die like a human. She could still die from head trauma. Just because she's tougher than a mere human doesn't mean you can just stop me from helping Lyn."

"I didn't mean to," the other vampire tried to defend himself. "I was just focused on getting there, I didn't realize you had the same idea."

"Get your priorities straight, Edward. I hope there won't be a next time like this. I won't be as forgiving." Jasper threatened, and with one last look that would make the bravest of people cry uncontrollably, Jasper walked back into the house and to Evelyn's side.

"What he said, honestly." Rosalie had to add, crossing her arms and glaring angrily at Edward who was now fine again, without any trace of Jasper's punch. The rest of the family sighed, this was going to go badly.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x oc #jasper hale #jasper hale x y/n #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight x reader #twilight #jacob black x reader #edward cullen x reader #jasper cullen x reader #twilight x oc #twilight saga #twilight x y/n

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paleprincessturtle · 2 years ago

Note

Heyy! I love your writing and was wondering if you could write a piece where Mike thinks Harvey is a loner so he goes and asks Donna, but Donna tells him he’s been in a super serious relationship for a while. Mike doesn’t believe her so she tells him to go see for himself. Mike goes to Harvey’s place and sees him being super domestic and fluffy with reader.

Aww thanks! And also thanks a bunch for the request. I'm sorry it took so long. But here we go and enjoy!

Note: I'm really sorry for others who already sent me other requests, it might take me some times to post again since I'm in the middle of writing my thesis. Thanks!

Sunny Disposition

Pairing: Harvey x Reader

Mike walked with spring in his steps. It's been approximately 10 hours since Harvey snapped in his face and gave him a direct order to not leave the building unless he found anything they needed for the hearing next Monday. Mike was bummed that he had to cancel tonight's dinner with Rachel. They made an agreement to always have dinner somewhere new every Friday. But here he was. Stuck with piles upon piles upon piles of documents. Nevertheless, he found it. This could be a breakthrough in court. They could win easily with this. But as he got closer to Harvey's office, he slowed down. Frown graced his face. The door to Harvey's office is closed, lights off. Donna was the only sign of life near Harvey's office. Even Donna was getting ready to leave. He walked faster to Donna's desk before she got the chance to leave. "Where's Harvey?" Mike asked, confusion apparent in his voice. "He left at 6," Donna said nonchalantly as if the information wasn't odd at all. It was odd to Mike. Harvey left at 6? Was his place on fire?

"He left at 6? Why did he leave at 6? I have a girlfriend at home, who had dinner alone because Harvey told me not to leave this building. He had a cactus you left him, just that." Mike said in disbelief. Donna chuckled and got back to gathering her things, ready to leave. "Why has Harvey never been in a serious relationship?" Mike asked, all curious. "Last was with Scottie, right? But it wasn't that serious. Though Harvey snapped at me over a pencil after the breakup. But it wasn't that serious from what I see." Donna watched the younger guy rambling. "I can't imagine being Harvey, get home only to a cactus." Mike closed his eyes and shook his head, imagining his home without Rachel. "Harvey is in a serious relationship, Mike." Mike opened his eyes so fast, his hand covering his mouth. "Get out," Mike said in disbelief. "He's been in this relationship for over a year. In fact, he just proposed to her last month, on her birthday, in Florence." Mike's brows knitted together as he tried to remember if there was anything different from Harvey last month. He did take a week vacation, and he dodged questions about his holiday. When he got back he brought with him a beautifully hand-carved pen for Mike. It did creep Mike out. Harvey and souvenirs just don't bode well. He shook his head. "Lies. You said that just to make me feel bad for getting pissed at Harvey because he went home early." Donna rolled his eyes, "If you don't believe me, why don't you give him a visit, and see it for yourself." Donna said as she left her desk.

Mike knocked after he tried the door and failed. He was ready to face Harvey with a glass of whisky in his hand. What he didn't expect was a woman opened the door for him. She dressed in Harvey's dress shirt, black leggings, and an apron. The smell of deliciousness came out as she opened the door. She smiled brightly at Mike. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" she said in all friendliness. Mike snapped out of it and offered his hand, "I'm sorry, I'm Mike Ross. I work with Harvey, I'm here to drop some important documents." Mike explained, confusion still thick in his head. Was Donna telling the truth? Before none of them could say anything, he heard Harvey call from inside. "Sweetheart, who is it?" Mike looked at her in surprise. Sweetheart? Now, sweetheart and Harvey Specter doesn't bode well even more. The woman in front of her ignored Harvey and instead of shaking his hand, she hugged him. "I've heard so much about you! Harvey won't shut up. It's great to finally put a face to a name, and please come in. We are just cooking dinner. Harvey must've confined you in the office. Come in, please," she moved aside to let Mike in. "Harvaroooo" she called out as they entered the kitchen. Harvey turned from the stove and locked eyes with Mike. Harvey frowned and seemed caught off guard. Mike almost laughed at the sight of Harvey standing over a stove, bare feet, holding a spatula. "Harvey baby, look who showed up on our doorstep!" she walked past Harvey as Harvey stood there in confusion. She retrieved a wine glass. "Harvey, why don't you sit down with Mike while I finish up dinner? He mentioned important documents," Harvey nodded, "Mike, you fine with red?" she brought the bottle over her head for Mike to see. "Yes, of course," Mike said slowly, eyes still locked on Harvey's. She brought the glass over to Harvey. "Here, go sit down with Mike," she said, and again, Harvey nodded. This woman can order Harvey around and she's not Jessica, Mike thought. "You sure you don't need help? I can help you finish dinner. Mike can wait. Right, Mike?" Harvey called out. "Yes," Mike answered shortly, still in a daze. "No, baby. You and Mike go out sit on the balcony, and talk about..." she trailed off then smiled, "Talk about whatever you need to talk about while I finish dinner. It shouldn't be long anyway." Mike saw Harvey look down at her. He whispered sweet nothings in her ears as she giggled. He pecked her lips before turning to Mike, he handed him the glass of red and gestured outside with his head. "Wow," Mike said in amazement as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. "Perks of being successful, I can afford this view," Harvey said, leaning on the railing beside him. They both have the view of the kitchen, with the mysterious woman taking an extra plate for Mike. "When are you going to tell me that you're actually engaged?" Mike asked, turning his head to look at Harvey. "I don't mix her with work. When I pissed people off and they found out about her, they will use her against me. I won't let that happen on my watch," Harvey said solemnly. A small smile crossed Harvey's lips as he looked inside at his girl. Mike didn't miss it. "She's beautiful," Mike said, patting Harvey on the back. "Congratulations," Mike said as he pulled him into a hug. Before Harvey could say anything, she opened the sliding door to tell both men that dinner was ready.

Harvey put his hand on his lower back as they walked to the dining table. "You should've told me to help you set the table," Harvey said and she waved him off. "It's fine, Harvey." Harvey pulled the chair for her and kissed the top of her head as she sat down. Mike smiled at the interaction. No matter how much Mike denied it, Harvey is his friend. Mike cared a lot about him and to know that Harvey found her, put Mike's mind at ease. "Oh, I hope we knew you'd come. I hope you're fine with ravioli?" she asked and Mike shook his head. "Please, if anything I'm the one ruining your night with Harvey." Mike gave her a reassuring smile. "It's not like Harvey is an angel and didn't keep you in the office away from your girlfriend," she looked at Harvey and swatted his shoulder, "You should stop doing that, Harvey!" Harvey laughed as he caught her hand and gave it a kiss on the inside of her wrist before letting it go. "Harvey never told me about you," Mike started as he took a bite of the ravioli, "Damn, this is the best ravioli I've ever put in my mouth." Mike closed his eyes as he savored the flavors. "My girl here is the best cook," Harvey said proudly and smiled at her and she laughed. "Harvey never told you about me because I'm a mere mistress," she shrugged as Mike laughed. Mike glanced at her ring finger, adorned with a huge diamond ring. Harvey must've spent a fortune on that. "Sunny, can you pass me the pepper?" Harvey asked her as she passed him the pepper. "Sunny?" Mike asked, eyebrow raised. "Sunny is his silly nickname for me," she waved him off. "Just like Harvaroo?" Mike joked and Harvey choked on his food. The two of them laughed at the even sillier nickname. "It's not a silly nickname," Harvey said after he regained his composure. "Harvaroo?" Mike asked, amusement glinting in his eyes. "That's a silly nickname," Harvey scoffed. "Sunny is not a silly nickname," Mike looked at Harvey, asked him to continue. "She's the ray of sun amidst my storm. I wouldn't know simple happiness without her." Harvey said as he leaned forward to kiss her. Mike watched the two of them and smiled. Relieved washed over him, knowing Harvey, the loner he thought, was actually very much in love.

MASTERLIST

#harvey specter #harvey specter fan fiction #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter imagines #harvey specter x reader #suits harvey specter #suits tv

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rapz-rites · 2 months ago

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Damian Wayne x Reader

For someone big on social media, you would’ve never expected this side of it, and love it

A/N: … So… I'm in college… idk how consistently ill be able to post. I thought I could do every week but ig that's not possible for me as I'm taking 6 classes 😭 My goal is to post at least once a month to put something out. That highlighted part is from when I had about 85% of this done MONTHS ago. And I'm finishing this during spring break 2025, and mind you this was asked September 2, 2023… IM SO SORRY 😭

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warning(s): none I think…

As someone with almost 100 million followers across several social media platforms, to say you’re relatively active is an understatement. You’re practically always working. As a part-time college student, it took a while for you to find a good balance.

You would post at least 2 YouTube videos every month, usually vlogs, TikTok’s every few days, sometimes a few days straight if you have enough content, an Instagram post every now and then, and posting on Twitter and Snapchat are rare unless something big is happening. On top of that, you have a monthly performance meeting with your team. You talk about how your engagement has been and ways to increase it. At the last meeting, they thought you could reply to more comments and videos you’ve been tagged in.

You were chilling with Titus on Damian’s bed, knowing well that Titus isn’t allowed on the bed, waiting for him to return from Patrol. After almost 3 years of dating, it has become routine for the two of you at this point. After editing and posting for the day, you would spend the night at the manor, and the next day you had off, you spent it with friends/Damian.

As you were waiting you took it upon yourself to scroll through comments and videos you’ve been tagged in. While scrolling through the comments of a video you posted of you and Damian doing one of those game interviews, you saw a comment that confused you.

Wifeofyn: I can see the edits already 😃

Edits? Like the ones you would see when a new movie or show came out? Due to the people you follow and the type of content you and them post, you rarely ever see them. And you never spent enough time on your for you page to get them either, so you searched it

Search: Y/n edits

You scrolled and scrolled. You were completely mesmerized as you watched the TikTok edits of yourself for the first time. You watched in amazement as you saw how people turned your everyday life into something straight out of a movie, albeit you have made cameos in movies before and had some minor roles but it was nothing like this. You got so caught up in the videos, your excitement bubbling over, that you lost track of time and everything else around you. You didn’t even notice Titus had gotten off the bed and went to sleep in his and Damian had returned from patrol.

It’s only when you feel the bed shift and see Damian lying next to you, freshly showered and awaiting your attention, that you realize he’s back. You realized that he’s probably been watching, and most likely studying, you for God knows how long.

He saw the excitement in your eyes every time you watched an edit. He heard your laughs as people used funny or sarcastic things you’ve said before in intros of edits. Of course you thought they were hilarious, no one was funnier than you… He even saw when you rolled over on your stomach and started kicking your feet in the air when you discovered the couple edits your fans made of you and Damian. You snap out of your TikTok trance with a start, your face flushed. You turn to him with an apologetic smile, eager to share your newfound excitement about the edits.

Over the next few days, you spend some of your spare time watching edits. It didn’t matter where you were, on the toilet, in the car, at a cafe. You LOVED them.

It had been a few days since you had “discovered" the edits of yourself. You’ve been commenting and “reposting and sharing the edits you’ve seen.

Secretlifeof_y/n started a live: Revolutionary Discovery

You look at your phone and watch as the number of viewers is increasing.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna let more people join before we get started”

Y/n_lover: omg your reposts

You continued to see comments come in regarding your reposts on TikTok.

“Wow! 10 thousand people in less than 15 minutes”

ButtercupBriii: is it me or has she not been on live in a minute

777.Marley: @ButtercupBriii no you’re right it’s been like 3 weeks

You read more comments of people agreeing that you haven’t been on live as much. That was the whole reason you were on live now.

“Now that we have more people in here, HIIIII!”

You watch as comments flood in of people greeting you and asking many questions. In the back, the viewers can see that you're in Wayne Manor, as you have gone live there several times before, and Stephanie is searching for something in the pantry.

“I’m trying to read all the comments coming in but you guys are too fast,” you say as your eyes skim the bottom of your phone screen. Accidentally letting out a snort, you slap your hand over your mouth. “Someone said Stephanie in the back looking for food is giving big back. Yall are evil !”

Stephanie pops her head out of the pantry giving the camera a confused look. “They said what about me?”

She walks to you with a large metal mixing bowl filled with baking supplies. You move the camera back so she can place the items onto the counter while also giving the camera a greater view of your surrounding area. Noticing candy in the bowl that you know she got for the two of you to snack on, you opt not to say anything about it. You clap your hands together while standing straight and slightly popping your hips out.

“Okay guys. Today Steph and I are,” You start. Stephanie moves close to you and in unison the two of you enthusiastically state “Baking brownies!!”

“So,” you start. “While we’re mixing everything, neither of us will be able to read comments so we’re just gonna talk, and while the brownies are baking we can chit-chat.”

As you and Stephanie pour ingredients into the mixing bowl and mix them, you talk about how the night you first saw the edits of yourself. You explain how you saw a comment referring to them and got curious, prompting you to search “Y/N edits”. That’s how you ended up with over 50 reposts of edits of yourself and various friends and family.

You pour the mixture into a flat pan and Stephanie goes to put it in the oven. While Stephanie does that you start reading comments aloud to answer.

“Who’s my favorite editor? Wifeofyn. But yn_lover is up there too.”

You and Stephanie continued answering the comments until you heard voices from the foyer. Sure enough, it was your boyfriend and his brothers returning from one of their excursions. You could listen to them bickering, which was normal, considering that's how they communicated 70% of the time.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your boyfriend as he and his brothers walked into the kitchen. Everyone started getting comfortable, especially Dick with the camera. You move towards the back of the kitchen with Damian. He wraps his arms around you from behind and you instinctively relax into his embrace. You let your head fall back while he nestles his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent.

“You smell delicious,” your boyfriend mumbles into your shoulder. You couldn’t help but giggle at him, “I smell like flour.”

“You still smell good.”

The two of you remained in the same spot and position for several moments in silence. It was moments like these you loved: in Damian’s arm, in a comfortable silence, watching life happen.

You notice Jason is staying away from the camera. This peaking your interest, you question him. As you’re asking Jason about his seeming distaste for the camera, Damian kisses the side of your head as he let’s to know he’s going to retire to his room for the night.

“I’m not getting in frame because people will make edits and every single one you see you’ll send it to me and next thing you know I have 42 edits of myself to watch” Jason states.

You gasped, acting offended, but you knew he was right. You also knew people were probably editing this live. You rolled your eyes at him and walked back to Stephanie, who was downing some brownies with Tim and your phone.

“Guys so the brownies are done and I miss Damian so I’m going to bring him some. I promise to go live again soon,” you finish off by blowing a kiss to your viewers.

LIVE ENDED

Tag List:

@firephoenix2020

@devotedlyshadowytheorist

@Manonptv

@inmymonologue

@Findingnolia

@thereal5limshady

@blackrockshooter780

@lillian-morningstar

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

Hope you enjoyed this and so sorry it’s late to the person who requested it

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x you #batfam #batman #requests

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revasserium · 1 year ago

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hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

#opla #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece netflix #one piece fluff #sanji opla #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #opla x reader #opla x you #opla fluff #x reader #floofy floof floof #scheduled post

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thewintersoldatt · 1 year ago

Text

SORRY, NOT SORRY -RAFE CAMERON

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!listener

Summary: Rafe can be a “good” boyfriend when he wants to be… with a sprinkle of manipulation of course.

Warnings: Naughty language, Fluff low-key from our toxic daddy, ft. JJ being a chaotic mess.

notes: This audio is set during 1x05. Instead of it being midsummer's, it's the listeners birthday! I've been working on this all week and I'm tired of listening to it on repeat, so if something doesn't add up, it's because I got lazy. And I wish Rafe told me he loved me. 😭

word count: Its audio, my panties are wet and so are yours.

Scene one

JJ: Ah, would you look at this! It's our birthday girl!

You: What are you doing here?

Our cutie patootie rambles on then walks off with the security guard.

During this pause count to about 6 or 7.

You: What the hell did you guys do to his face?

Rafe: We didn't do anything… his face was like that when he…showed up.

You: Well, why did you guys corner him in here?

Rafe: We were just making sure... he knew his place. And that he's not allowed here. If anything, we were doing you and your parents a favor, I mean, god knows what he already took.

You: You promised me you wouldn’t start anything tonight, Rafe.

Rafe: Can you give us a minute? I'd like to talk to my girlfriend... alone, so get out. Alright, um, can I speak first since you wanna do this right now?

You: Go ahead.

Rafe: How long have you lived here?

You: I was born here.

Rafe: Yes you were born here, but where - where did you grow up?

You: Figure 8.

Rafe: Yes, you grew up on Figure 8. And where did... our pal JJ grow up?

You: The cut.

Rafe: The Cut. and that's exactly my point, baby. We're kooks. And... what is JJ again?

You: Jesus, Rafe don't start-

Rafe: Come on, you wanna talk, let’s talk. What about communication? Isn’t that what we're supposed to be working on?

Count to 3 during this pause.

You: He’s a pouge.

Rafe: See that wasn't so hard, now was it? Now, let me make something clear, and stop me if you get a little confused - you and me. We’re practically royalty on this island. We’re together for a reason. And before you saying, yes I do love you. I always have and I always will. You’re mine. You’re it for me, sweetheart. And… you’re a kook. So, start acting like one before I do something about it, mkay?

You: God, you’re a dick you know that? How about you leave too.

Rafe: Ugh, look I’m sorry, alright? It’s just… it’s just when I saw him on the patio talking to Sarah I lost it. This is supposed to be your day and I didn’t want him ruining it. Kind of like when… uh… we switched out the coke with flour and gave it to Top because he ate your cupcakes.

You: And how is that relevant to this?

Rafe: It’s sorta the same thing. You - you worked hard on those. Uh, he ate them. I was pissed because they were for me. And you were upset because I wanted to punch him in the throat. Tomato, tomahto. Blah, blah, blah. See you’re smiling, I love it when you smile.

You: You’re such a sap.

Rafe: I love you.

You: I love you too.

Rafe: And again, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene, I just didn’t know how else to get him to leave. You know how JJ and his friends are. All of them are drawn to us like a moth to a flame. Now, uh, can we put this behind us and get back to the party?

You: Thats the smartest thing that’s come out of your fat mouth all night, baby.

Rafe: By the way, I really do think he took something from your bedroom.

You: What?

Rafe: I saw him come down from the hallway, unless he took something from your dad’s office?

You: You’re serious?

Rafe: As a heart attack.

You: But… I’ve never done anything to him.

Rafe: That’s what they do though. You should know this by now. They butter you up, just to take whatever they can right from under our noses. It’s sick, if I’m being honest.

You: So much for trying to be civil.

Rafe: I know, yeah, I’ll talk to your dad, and um, see what we can do. But for now, let’s go celebrate. It’s not everyday someone turns 17.

@rafesapologist @rvfecamerons @sadfury @rafesthroatbaby @rafesaddiction @hockeybabe87 @rafeinterlude @starkeyisthelastname @secretly-tumb1r @kingkylie444 @stayonmars @maybankswhore @barbiiecams @princessmisery666 @ilovebarrykeoghan

If you would like to be tagged, I gotchu sis.

#drew starkey #ai generated #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #i’m in love #my original post #my original writing #enjoy the audio

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boiohboii · 2 years ago

Text

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

#f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #charles leclerc #f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles x yn #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc twitter au

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underoospeterparker · 1 year ago

Note

okay i really hope this makes sense because i love your writing - shy!reader x remus <3

reader is in the wrong place at the wrong time and gets detention for something she didn’t do - too shy and nervous to speak up for herself. when reader doesn’t meet up on time with remus he begins to worry

thank you for requesting! writing in the actual harry potter universe is tough, but i really like how it turned out!

grumpy!remus lupin x shy!fem!reader, 0.7k words

Remus paced back and forth in the hallway, frantically trying to think of an excuse as to why you might be late. James and Sirius watched him, clearly amused at his antics.

"Moony," James spoke up, "might I remind you that she's only ten minutes late?"

He turned around with an annoyed look on his face, a frown turning the corner of his lips downward. "No, you may not."

Sirius burst into laughter, clutching at James's blazer to steady himself. When he took a look at Remus's face, he fell silent. "Sorry," he murmured, "that was not funny."

"She's never late," he said, mostly to himself rather than to his best friends, "maybe I should check her classroom?" He paused, then answered his own question. "Yes. I'll do that. See you later, guys," Remus added, before heading off in the opposite direction of the Great Hall for lunch.

James sighed in mock disappointment. "Now what'll we do?"

Sirius played along, grin wide on his face. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "we'll have to follow him. I mean, what else could we possibly do?

You sat, hands shaking, in front of your professor. The only sound was the clicking of his pen as he surveyed you. "I don't understand what I did wrong," you managed, looking at your lap because you could not meet his gaze.

Snape stared at you, an incredulous look on his face. "You don't understand what you did wrong?" He repeated your statement. "Well, let me remind you, (Y/N). A student told me that she saw you in the bathroom, attempting to perform an expulso curse."

You didn't say anything. You knew it was Pansy, but if you said anything, which you wouldn't have done anyway, she would do much worse to you. "I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice quiet.

He nodded, a stern look on his face. "Do not let me catch you doing that again," he said, then paused. "Detention, then. Two weeks, starting today. 6'o clock. Don't be late," he added, then motioned for you to leave.

Packing up your things, you left in a hurry. You bumped straight into Remus, who had been making his way to your classroom. He steadied you, setting a hand on your hip. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Hey, where've you been? I've been looking for you everywhere, I-"

He was cut off by you promptly bursting into tears, hiding your face in the crook of his blazer. "Oh," he murmured. He wrapped his arms around you, hand going up to soothingly scratch at your scalp. "Oh, angel, you're okay," he murmured softly. "It's okay."

You sniffled, and the sound made his chest hurt as you burrowed your head further into his jacket. Then, you pulled away, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your eyes hastily.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. You tried to explain yourself. "I was in the bathroom at the wrong time," you said, and Remus raised an eyebrow. "Snape thought I was trying to do an expulso curse."

"But you weren't," Remus said slowly. "Of course you weren't. Must've been Pansy, the little git." When you nodded, he asked, "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shook your head. "I didn't want to get in more trouble."

You looked up at him, and his eyes softened. "I get it," he said, although if it had been up to him, he would have blamed it on her to get you out of trouble. Remus swung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you back into his chest, which you went into gladly. "So, how many days of detention?"

Wincing, you replied, "two weeks."

He groaned, then said, "how am I supposed to go that long without seeing my best girl?"

You laughed. "You'll see me at lunch, and at Charms."

He pressed a kiss to your head. "Nope. I gotta get into some sort of trouble so I can be in detention with you, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened when James and Sirius popped out from behind the corner, identical mischievous grins on their faces.

Sirius was the first to speak up. "Did someone say trouble?"

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sunshine-theseus · 10 months ago

Text

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #wsl #womens soccer #arsenal fcw #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross

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