#but also I just got a bunch for helping someone with something last minute so

[bunnygirl678]

It knows I want green cause it gave me these two assholes, I have no interest in either of you. Let me have green!!

Also…. It’s a good thing I just got a bunch of peer rewards points at work cause I’m gonna need some spending money lmao

[katiascraft]

༄“I would set the world on fire for you” | LN4 ⟢

Parings: lando norris x gf!reader.

Summary: after the Brazil GP, lando comes home to the worst week of his year. Also, it was his birthday. So even though the world hates him, you wanna make sure he is loved and he did nothing wrong. And that if you could you would set the world on fire for him.

Word count: +5k.

Warnings: written and smau. angst and fluff at the same time. Anxiety attack. Overthinking. Selfhatred. Language. And that’s it. I’m not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: lately I NEED to write things to cope with my feelings so here it is. Hope Vegas is good to all of my boys 💌 don’t forget to like, reflow or comment! Ur support its way loved here. and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

Your heart was completely shattered. Your heart was racing to get out of your car at the airport. In exactly 20 minutes your boyfriend will be back home after the worst weekend ever imagined. You couldn't assist the Brazilian GP because of your work schedule. You had a few meetings after Mexico gp. And you felt so guilty about it. You knew lando would be more protected if you were there. At least in the intimacy of you, emotionally speaking. Having someone there for him to hug and to comfort him. to calm his mind. To stop the self hatred you knew it was playing right now in his head. 

Lando is an overthinker and you get him because you were also one. You knew to which scenarios his mind can travel to and how painful it can be for him to live with himself sometimes. You were fighting your tears reading all of the atrocious things people commented online. You knew that wasn't real life. But you also knew he would see all that and how that would weigh in his heart. They can never let him win. And the worst part was only because it was just him. Other drivers could do or say worse things and everybody would laugh and brush it off. But when it came to Lando, he was a monster, a loser, an arrogant son of a bitch. That hurt deeply. Because in reality lando is the sweetest soul you have ever met. And you knew how vulnerable he could be. Tho you always admired him for that. You always thought that the bravest and strongest people in this world are the ones that admit to need help, the ones that are vulnerable and open about it. In a world this cruel, that was no easy task. But he did time and time again.and he did even knowing how shitty people were gonna be to him. Though, he did it for people he knew that counted on him. Lando always talks about how people sometimes come to him saying he has saved their lives and the impact he had on them. It's something beautiful yet that weighted on his  shoulders as well, you thought. 

You crossed the airport gates. Anxiety shaking your whole body. You wanted to hug him so bad. To tell him everything was gonna be fine. 

You opened the flight information he sent you before his plane took off so you looked for the probable gate he was coming out of when landed. Even though you were anxious you were also relieved that he was home with you.

After a few minutes passed by, a lot of people started coming out of the door you were waiting for. You started gazing at everyone just to find him. After a bunch of people got out, there he was. One of the last ones to go through the door. When you saw him your body almost came undone. You were out of air for a moment while the two of you got closer. When he is finally within reach, you give him the strongest hug you could. He melted on you, hugging you by your neck. Not much time passed when you heard him crying hid in your neck. Your heart that was shattered, broke immediately. You tighter your grip unto him. He started to sob and you couldn't hold your own tears at that point. You knew he had the worst time on that flight, alone with his cruel thoughts torturing him for hours. And there was nothing that you could do to protect him. You couldn't say a word. There was nothing that you could say that it would make things better right now. 

Lando was sobbing and shaking. His levels of anxiety reached a high when he saw you standing there looking for him desperately with your eyes. He needed you. But life’s a bitch and you couldn't stay with him throughout the whole American leg. He came undone in your arms. He needed to hug you for so long. He was broken. His mind replying to all the mistakes he made. All of his wrong decisions. All of the shit he said. He was embarrassed, angry and defeated. He was ashamed of himself. Disgusted. Frustrated and scared.  

Yu rubbed his back trying to comfort him in the hug and trying to not cry so you could be the strong one for him. He needed you, you knew it. And you wanted to fix all of this in a snap of fingers, but you couldn't. 

“It’s okay baby. You are gonna be alright, I promise. I love you. You’re home now ", Yu said, to make him feel at least slightly better. When he heard you he started sobbing even harder. You let him take all the time he needed. While doing so, you tried to see where you were and how you could, if someone was recording and taking a picture. Fortunately you were almost alone. It was the last flight arriving for today. You feel relieved knowing this won't be used against him by the cruel internet trolls. 

(...)

The drive home was silent. No music, no speaking. He didn't even look at you the whole ride. He was looking through the window avoiding any contact with society you thought while driving your Audi R8 V10 GT RWD through the illuminated Monaco streets. It was around 9pm. You had cooked for him some home made pasta you knew he adored. You just wanted him to feel better. 

When you got home, he took his bags to the room with your help. You left his second suitcase next to his wardrobe and saw him lying on the bed.

“I made your fav homemade pasta. Do you want me to bring it here and eat it in bed?” you offered him with a soft voice. He was looking to the ceiling. He did not answer right away, but after a few moments he did.

“I'm not hungry, but thank you. Maybe i'll eat later” he said with a deep cracky voice and turned himself in the bed showing you his back. You frowned a bit. 

He couldn't look at you. He hated that you could see him like this. He was ashamed of himself drawing in self pity and self hatred. He felt he let you down. 

“Aln, did you eat something during the flight at least?” you asked worriedly, walking forward to the bed so you could get closer to him. You sat on the table next to his back looking at him. You didn't want to touch him just because you didn't know if he would want you to. You didn't want to be invasive. You stayed in silence for a few minutes. You understood he didn't eat, that he didn't want to either or speak. So you stood up and let him have his alone time closing the door gently behind your back.

You ate alone that night.in silence just as if you could hear him from your kitchen aisle. The past was really good. You turned off your phone after washing the dishes and tidied the kitchen and living room up. You didn't want to see what social media was saying about your lover before bed. It was already enough scrolling and reading so many people wishing lando to die. That was the hardest part of it all. You left your phone charging on the kitchen counter and went to your shared room. When you entered he was already showered getting into the bed again. You half smiled at him even though he couldn't see you. You put on your pajamas in silence and climbed up the bed. He looked at you while you were getting comfortable next to him. 

Your eyes met. Any of you said anything. Just looked at each other trying to read each other thought as if that was possible. He licked his dry lips. His eyes turned glassy.

“I messed everything up,” he said almost in a whisper. Your heart is breaking again. You shook your head at him getting closer and bringing him into your chest. You hugged him tightly.

“No you didnt baby. Sometimes people are just mean, you know? They will interpret things as the wish” you said softly rubbing his back and arm and caressing his hair gently. He felt a bit better under your frame. He felt protected but as a little kid when missbehaved so now he tries to find comfort. He didn't want to cry.he was trying hard not to let tears stream down his cheeks.  You kissed his forehead and made him look at you. “I know you dont wanna talk about it but i  love and i am so deeply and entirely proud of you” you whisper close to his face. You saw him pout and the first tears coming down his face. You hugged him tightly. He hid in your neck and eventually fell asleep. You wanted to set the world on fire for this. You wanted to ruin every single person who says awful things about it. The comments, the media. You wanted to destroy everything and everyone just to protect him. He doesn't deserve this. He is an angel and you can't believe the world could only see the devil in him. 

Lando tried to sleep but he couldn't. Everytime he closed his eyes, all of the tragic scenes from the race replayed in his mind. How the car felt, the rain, the radio messages, Oscar's voice, comments from his engineer . everything replayed in his head torturing him the worst way possible. He felt like getting down. He felt alone and miserable. He remembered Oscar words replying in his mind over and over again. “You will eventually make it, mate”. It was a positive message but he replayed it like a fucking nightmare. 

What if he never makes it? What if he doesn't have what it takes? What if people are right? What if he is actually a monster and deserves to die? What if he did? Would they like him again or figure him out? Would anyone care about his feelings? Why does it have to be him and not someone else? Why are they all so cruel to him?

He couldn't stop thinking about every single detail about the weekend. He didn't want to celebrate his birthday anymore. He had you there but couldn't look at you. He felt disgusted by himself. He can't control it. He wants to go back into go karts and stop the time when he was actually happy and having fun with his friends. Now that line between friends and enemies is so blurry for him. Max didn't talk to him like before when all of this shit started. He knew Max was really competitive, of course he did, everyone knew it since day 1. But what about their friendship? Lando shit talked, max shit talked. He felt so confused even by his own feelings around this whole shitty situation or championship situation. Whatever you want to call it. 

(...)

When you woke up the next morning he was gone. You felt kind of confused for a bit. You heard him talking so you guessed he was speaking on the phone. When you got up from bed you walked out the room to find him. When you got closer to the living room you knew he was talking to Max on facetime because you heard his voice. 

“Morning, guys” you said, getting into the kitchen for some water to take your thyroid pills. Lando looked at you half-smile. 

“Good morning baby” he said as sweetly as he could. You smiled at him. Before coming back to your room to shower and stuff you went and gave him a good morning kiss making Max almost throw up when he saw you in a funny way. You showed him the middle finger and disappeared so he could talk in private with his mate. You respected his place a lot. And i guess that’s why you understand so much each other. 

(...)

The following day things got worse. Lando hasn't eaten any meal you prepared for him, didn't even want to have take out or anything. You found him crying in the kitchen and in the garden by the pool of your house. His anxiety was killing him, you knew. The desperation and guilt were eating him alive and you didn't know what to do rather than try to talk and comfort him.

He was sitting on the sofa in the living room. His sight was fixed on the floor without moving. You got alarmed because you knew what was going on. You got close slowly to not trigger him even more. His face was red, his hands sweaty and shaking. You sat on the floor diagonal from him looking at him. Slowly and gently you grabbed his hands trying to capture his brain's attention and get him out of the fog he was in. You were almost sure he was having an anxiety attack and he started because of your touch. You gently rubbed your fingers in his hands. He was out of breath for a moment and you got scared so you tried to do as your therapist told you in case someone you know goes through this. 

“Lan, can you hear me? Try to pay attention to my voice okay? I'm here and I'm with you dull be alright” you said really softly trying to make him look at you. You looked for his eyes with your gaze. “It’s not as terrible as you think, baby, I promise. You aren't all of those things people comment” you used your words carefully. His hands caught your strength and so you reassured him. You saw his pout becoming deeper. You hurt to see him like this. It was so unfair. He doesnt deserve this, god. And he broke. He broke down again. His tears streamed down his face. Sobbing in so much pain. You sat next to him to hug him tightly once more. But now you knew it was worse. He was shaking under your arms.you let him go through this. So he can let go of all of this shit inside him. “I promise lando, you aren't all of those things. People are just mean and cruel. You are a good baby and so talented. Gifted. You have it in you I promise, I can see it” you tried to comfort him with your words as well, trying to distract your mind from the tragic thought he was dealing with by himself. A few tears fell down your face. It was a hard time. And you were trying to be strong for him. 

“I'm so stupid I'm sorry” he sobbed and you shook your head. 

“No, Lando, you aren't. I promise okay? Believe me.i know you and you aren't. And this will pass. All the people that know you for real, we love you and we are so proud of you. You had an amazing year. You are fucking fighting a three time world champion, even sooner than he did with lewis back in 2021. That’s huge my love. Your dream is near, I just know it. Because I know you, and you’ll make it, baby. You didn't let anyone down. You're getting stronger so when you finally make it, all of these moments will make it taste so much better and sweeter” you explained while rubbing his back. Your words made an effect on him. Heslowly calming down. He didn't want to let you go. He wanted to just stay there in your arms. Where he felt safe and sound. Noone could hurt him there. That was what made him fall for you. You saw him. You knew him. And you care about him. He was finally important for someone for being lando, and not lando norris formula one driver. His past lovers left him feeling confused whether they loved him for him or their idea of him. You came outta nowhere and blew him away. You were brutally honest, no filter yet so gentle and caring with your words. He thought his perfect girl didn't exist but then there was you, listening to him for hours if he needed to. Giving him the best advice and clearing his perspective. Always cheering him up. Cracking jokes so he could distract and feel relaxed. Heknew he was in love with you the moment you offered to give him a ride because he was drunk as well at a new years party. It was normal but the fact that a stranger could do that for him blew his mind. He never admitted afraid people would think it’s weird. But it is what it is. Your smile ended him right there and when you started cracking jokes he didn't want to live in that damn car for the rest of his life. So here you are 4 years later,and you still be the greatest person in the world and the one who knew him the most. He felt your lips on his forehead. For a moment he thought about leaving racing. What if his life was better without it in it? He could go back to Bristol and be with his friends. With you. Maybe start a family and have a normal job so you could spend each day together. He started crying again at that thought. He loved racing but this year was the hardest yet amazing one. 

He finally calmed down after a few minutes in silence. He looked at you with puppy eyes. You caressed his face gently brushing a few tears falling down still. 

“Would you be there with me? Could you?” he asked, making you a bit confused. And he noticed. “To the races. I need you there. Please. To every race and when I become a champion,would you be there with me? You could feel he's scared. You half smiled at him melting as his comment.

“Of course I'll be there, baby. I’ll always be there for and with you. If I could , I would set the whole world on fire just for you. Never doubt it, okay?” he nodded and you pulled him closer to give him so many little kisses around his whole face making him gigle a little. 

“I love you, y/n” he said looking at you fondly.

“I love you, lando. Everything’s gonna be alright” you said, assuring him and gave a peck on his lips. “Go have a shower and dress cute im gonna take you out on a date before your birthday” you said more lighful to cheer him up and his face lit up.

“Really?” you noddedat him and send him to shower agin funny. Before going with him so yhou both looked facy, you needed to say something to the world. You couldnt stay crossed arms and do nothing about it. 

── .✦

yourusername uploaded a story

view story replies

maxfewtrell: I CHOKED

norrisfan: omg thank u queen for this

user45: ur as dumb as he is. you cant defend him. he sucks and thats it darling. don lie to yourself.

── .✦

You turned off your phone once again. You were already so fed up with it all. Let them talk. You were sure they would choke with their own shit eventually. 

but  continued with the day. Lando was still a little off but he was looking better so maybe he is actually feeling better. You took out to dinner at a restaurant he always dreamed of going to. He was so happy to be there. The food was delicious. It was near the beach though it is colder here so we looked at it through the glass window. You gossip and talk about anything and everything as if everything was alright. And it was a fact it was. Because this is real life. Not social media. A few people stopped you while eating to ask for pictures and Lando said yes every time you even became a photoshoot photographer. Nice people telling him nice things was what he needed right now. Plus, you would never be pissed off by his fans. You were actually grateful for them. Of course, some can be disrespectful but you knew the real one was it. You really embraced Lando's life even though it’s nothing like the life you’d dreamed of to have one day. But he is the boy of your dreams so why would it be a problem. 

November, 13th

When the clock hit midnight, the restaurant made a cake for him so we all sang him happy birthday. You chose his favorite type of cake. He giggled all nervous and shy. His cheeks red while his eyes showed a little sparkle while watching the candles. He blew them. You recorded the whole thing and took so many pictures. He thanked the staff and staff of the restaurant and they let you enjoy the cake in comfort. Your heart was full to see him a little back again. 

After The restaurant kicked you out because they needed to close, you decided to do a road trip through the mountains of monaco. You always enjoy a good ride with good music and good company. And you also had sex in the car. You kind of guessed he needed to take his frustrations out somehow because you had the rough sex you really enjoyed. He joked it was his best birthday present making you laugh. He was joking again. 

“Thank you” he said while gently rubbing your naked chest. You were seated on him. You smiled and leaned for a soft kiss on his lips. You really loved him. And all you wanted for him was happiness and well being. And you would do anything to make sure he is okay. 

You came back home and had another round of sex. Enjoying yourselves in intimacy. Lando finally fell asleep after a terrible few days, in the calm of your body. His face on your bare chest. You clothed him and fell asleep relieved.

── .✦

yourusername made a post

liked by maxfetrell, f1, maclaren, francolapinto, and others.

yourusername: What can I say about you? There's no words that can describe your greatness. Or my feelings for you. I'm so grateful you were born on November 13th. 25 years ago my best friend and the love of my life was brought to this world. And sometimes what unfair is that, right? A world that is so cruel to you. A world that doesn't deserve your greatness and kindness nor your attention. You are the greatest son, brother, uncle, friend and lover. Anyone who says otherwise doesn't actually know you. We are all so lucky that you choose us to spend your time on this world with. Thank you for being who you care. For caring about the people you love and making sure we are alright and happy. Thank you for being the light that you are for so many lives. Thank you for being vulnerable. I admire you so much, lan. You are the strongest and bravest human I know. so honest and open. Anyone who says otherwise, actually, doesn't know you. I know this is not the best birthday of your life, but I promise you I'll try to make it better. Thank you for being who you are to me. I promise I see you and I care. You're the love of my life. And I'm so lucky you love me over any other human out there. So happy birthday to the prettiest and most genuine, real, fun, kind, warm person I have the chance to call mine everyday. Hope you have the best day you can have right now. That’s the least you deserve. I love you forever bestie. Don’t ever change.

tagged: landonorris

comments on this post have been disabled.

── .✦

── .✦

So you had a master plan for Lando's birthday. You went to the Hilton hotel for some coffee with Max and Lando of course. We lied and said pietra couldn't make it because she had a meeting and Lando believed. Truth was, you have contacted all of his friends and arregened flights so everyone could make it to Monaco on time. Pietra was the one in your house. You left her a spare key yesterday evening after coffee with alex. You gave her the directions and the idea of what you wanted while you and Max distracted Lando until 7pm, she decorated the house and received all of his friends. Lando had no clue of what was going on but he was so happy it was the second cake you brought to him. You recorded the moment and seeing him smile made your heart melt. 

── .✦

yourusername uploaded a story

view story replies

landonorris: I love you greatest girlfriend there to exist. Thank u for everything and specially for making this day so much better. Ur an Angel ❤️‍🩹

⤷ yourusername: I love u more Angel ❤️‍🩹 the least you deserve is to be loved and happy.

User33: 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Landostan: THANK U FOR EXISTING AND TAKING SUCH CARE OF HIM UR A QUEEN I LOVE U WE LOVE U

carlossainz55: ur the best 🫶🏻

⤷ yourusername: te extraño hermano we need to double date with Rebecca again asap!

── .✦

When 7pm came around we all “decided” to go to your house and eat pizza for dinner. Lando even said to me that they could do a stream and have fun for a bit. You agreed and all knowing that wasn't gonna happen. The ride home was so much fun. You spent the 20 minute ride screaming a one direction song from the top of your lungs. You sang Lando ‘through the dark’ And he sang ‘You and i’.it was lovely, Max almost threw up when you kissed. Luckily he was driving so he hadn't watched much of your pda. 

You got out of the car trying to play it cool though you were so nervous. You saw Max texting Pietra that you were close.the lights were off. And silent. Your nervousness took over you when you tried to open the door but let the keys fall nervously. Thankfully Max and Lando were discussing which type of pizza they would order. Finally you opened the door, lando behind you and so you turned on the lights.

Everyone jumped from everywhere saying happy birthday in unison. Yoursmile was so big but when you saw lando his smile was even bigger.

“Surprise!” you said and lando was still processing it. But when his friend started hugging him he started crying out of joy. He thought his friends weren't coming this year because of their busy schedule.but that was a lie you made them tell so lando wouldn suspect anything. Fortunately, they all kept the secret safe. Lando was so happy. 

You all spent the night playing poker, drinking gin and tonics and surrounded by laughter and love. In the moment, around everybody, you felt lucky to be there. Especially to be in landos life. Everyone was so sweet and good just like him. He deserves the world.

Everyone went home around 2 am. You were exhausted and tipsy at the end of the night. So you put your pajamas on and sled straight on the bed. Lando wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Thank you for everything. It was a great birthday. Thank u for always taking care of me always.you make me the happiest” he said under a whisper looking at you. He looked so gorgeous with that little smile and tired eyes. You stroked his cheek gently, smiling. 

“You deserve to be happy darling. You are unstoppable. Better days at work will come,I know.but im grateful that you have so much love surrounding you. I love you” he smiled widely listening to you and leaned to kiss you with so much feelings and passion. You were the greatest thing that ever happened to him and also the greatest decision he has ever made when he asked you out.

── .✦

f1gossipofficial made a post

liked by user3423, user96849, user334, yourbff and others.

f1gossipofficial: here it is @/yourusername at the McLaren garage ready for fp1 cheering for his 4 year boyfriend @/landonorris! Lando was asked about the whole drama around the Brazil gp and his birthday and her statement and he said ‘I’m lucky to have her. I would set the world on fire for her. So yeah. We are the same that is why we work so well. It was a great birthday though. She brought my whole group of friend to Monaco for a poker night so yeah’ also he said that if it wasn’t for her he would’ve collapsed on his overthinking but thankfully she was there. We love a power couple on the grid!! What do we think about all of this? #LasVegasGP2024

view more comments

User1873: they are both the same shit tbh

User23: I LOVE THEM GREATEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

User29873: I don’t like lando but she cute supporting him like that. I saw she gave a kiss to him before getting into the car. They seem in love!

⤷ Usrr988: I KNOW TIGHT I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY I CAUGHT THAT KISS IN THE OFFICIAL TRANSMISSION

Yourbff: she is the greatest person you would know!! Let’s go lan!!!

User564: Max will win the dwc and NOTHING would change that or move me so

User90: omg she is so pretty

y/nstan: how lucky lando is to have her. She is always the sweetest to all of his fans. And also funny. Such a queen!

User897: where are the pictures of them arriving together????????! I NEED THEM

⤷ user45: so iconic need to marry asap

── .✦

It was the day. The day you were back to media duties. Back to being a target for social media. Back supporting your boyfriend no matter what. You even went on media day to be there for him if he needed it. You chatted with everyone around to entertain yourself while he was doing interviews. 

Oscar helped a lot and the whole McLaren team to make Lando feel safe and actually enjoy the weekend. You Were grateful for it. At least they decided not to be dicks in front of his face. 

Fp1 was about to start and you were proudly there in the garage to cheer on him. You were also anxious because you felt things almost like him and this competition is rather never racking. You kissed him gently but shortly. A good luck kiss before getting into the car. He smiled widely. 

“Go be the best you can be. You’re great” you told him sweetly.

“I'll try my best to impress you,” he replied, letting go of your hand. 

“You already do everyday babe” you said smiling making him grin before walking into the car to start the first session of the weekend. 

You watched from there how fp1 unfolded hoping this would be a great weekend.

── .✦ FIN

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[inkskinned]

the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

[tinfoil-jones]

Has Stan ever questioned Jerk Ford the reason why he is the only person he isn't a jerk to, since he's an a-hole even to the other members in their family?

"You don't know him like I do."

- Both Stans at the same time.

On Jerk Ford:

Throughout their lives, Stan insisted that just because Ford’s a jerk, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about anyone. He does care! Really! He just has a hard time showing it. No one ever believed him. You could just say that it’s a twin thing when Stan says something along the lines of “You don’t know him like I do” and they’re like well no shit he’s not a jerk to you. But, give Stanley some credit here, he’s more observant than you think he is.

---

Retired tech billionaire "Old Man" Fiddleford Hadron McGucket starts his mornings as he often does; going into his garage/workshop with a cup of coffee so he could re-tune his banjo for a few songs, quietly so as not to wake his wife.

He almost drops his cup of coffee when he see's theres something on his workbench that wasn't there last night.

A multitool.

One he hasn't seen in thirty years, but recognized instantly.

Carefully, he picks it and and inspects it, maybe it's just a replica.

FHM

Engraved in his late fathers handwriting, a loose scrawl that almost looked cursive if it weren't for the letters not being attached.

It's the same multitool. It's in pristine condition.

---

When they were just little boys, they were hiding behind the counter as their Pa was arguing with a customer, who ended up calling Filbrick a word they never heard before. Filbrick kicked the customer out, but it was clear he was more upset than he let off, in fact, he seemed almost sad, something neither twin had ever seen from their Pa. Filbrick then gave them a lecture that they can never repeat the word they just heard the man call him, because it was a very bad word that people used to insult and put down people 'of their faith'. 

A few minutes later, that same customer slipped on a banana peel that ‘came out of nowhere’, and sprained his ankle.

When they were a little older, Caryn was taking the twins out for a walk, when they passed a construction site and the construction workers started whistling at her, and giving her ‘compliments’ that she didn’t seem to like. She ignored it, but her little sons noticed her pace sped up and she almost rushed them away. 

That night, as those workers were double checking the work they’d done for the day, they were baffled to find that the concrete hadn’t set; the concrete had been tampered with, as if someone had poured a bunch of sugar in it while it was mixing. They’d have to redo it all over again, and it’d cost the company extra for the wasted concrete.

When the twins were in high school, Shermie, who had long since moved out but was visiting, was in tears telling their parents that his boss refused to give him the day off on the day his wife was due to give birth to their baby.

A week before the baby was born, his workplace was suddenly so badly infested with termites and roaches, that it would need two weeks to be properly fumigated, so the workers didn’t have to work while the fumigation was going on, and they’d still get paid because they were salary workers. Shermie was there with his wife when she gave birth to their son, and he got to dedicate a few days to just being with his wife and baby.

Their Ma would help out with Shermie's son sometimes, because both parents worked, but she also worked and would have her two younger sons help out with babysitting as well. And although Ford would gripe and complain about 'dealing with a brat all day', Stan had seen more than once that Ford would put the baby to sleep more than once by simply holding him in his arms and lying down with him, and also falling asleep.

In Backupsmore, Fiddleford was being bullied by a professor who looked down on him for being ‘a hick from an inbred, uneducated family’, and he was told to suck it up when he tried reporting her because she was tenured. In the middle of the year, she was unexpectedly replaced by a new, and much nicer, professor, and they were told their original professor was taking ‘an extended leave of absence’. 

She never came back, and it later came to light later on that the dean found a box full of documents and VHS tapes under his desk that hadn’t been there when he left his office the night before. All of which were extensive proof that the professor had been secretly embezzling the schools budget. 

When Ford comes back to their dimension after thirty years in the multiverse, no one who knew him from before is surprised that he’s still a huge indiscriminate jerk, and people who hadn’t personally known him but knew about him because of their yearly holiday that celebrated his disappearance were unpleasantly surprised to find out he was as bad as everyone said he was. And Stan didn’t necessarily disagree, but even after decades apart he could still see right through his twin as if he were made of rude glass.

Dipper's pens are suddenly indestructible to his chewing habit so no more mouthfuls of ink, and Mabel mysteriously never runs out of glitter; lately, it's also been more shimmery and almost... magical?

It doesn't matter where either of them fall asleep, they always end up waking up tucked into their beds, even though they told Grunkle Stan in the beginning of summer that they were too old to be carried and to just leave them wherever they’d crashed. 

Soos had been complaining all summer about his van making weird noises and having really poor mileage. Out of nowhere, Soos’s vehicle starts running like a dream and he’s getting ninety miles to a gallon, when it’s been twenty to the gallon at most as long as he’s had it.

Also, he didn't remember when he'd upgraded the graphics card of his home computer, but he sure is loving the higher FPS when he's playing video games.

Wendy is beside herself distressed and crying to Stan, Soos, and the Mystery Twins that her house had roof leak when a surprise summer rainstorm hit, and her favourite framed photograph of herself with her late mother was water damaged beyond repair, and is nearly unrecognizable.

The next day she asks her father when he’d made a copy of her photograph, and he replies that he has no idea what she’s talking about. She then takes a closer look at the newly framed picture she'd found on her desk that had been placed right next to her damaged one- did someone paint this…?

People assume that Ford only cares about his twin brother and no one else, because he's the only person he's never been a jerk to. But Stanley knows that isn't true; Ford loves just as strongly as he does, he just has a hard time letting people know.

As for Ford not being a jerk to him? Why would Ford bother, when Stan can see right through him? His twin is the only person who can see him, really see him.

---

Hours after Fiddleford had stormed out of the cabin with his bags in tow, Stanley looks over disheartened when he see's Stanford calmly place the multitool onto his own workbench.

"There were other ways to make him leave, Ford."

"I needed to make sure he wouldn't come back. That was too close of a call."

Ford had intended to give it back when the project was over, too bad it was on his belt when he was pushed into the multiverse.

[therealcocoshady]

RED CARPET APPEARANCE 🎥

Eminem x Young Actress Reader

This is Part 2 of Daddy's Spaghetti 🥰

Synopsis : You argue with Em about a red carpet appearance at the Oscars.

The last thing you wanted was to argue with your boyfriend right before going to the Oscars, but there you were. Lately, the two of you had been arguing quite a bit. To be fair, both of you were working a lot and being in a long distance relationship didn’t help. Not only did you have to manage hectic schedules, you also had to deal with time difference and last minute changes in plans. You had been dating Marshall for a few months now and you weren’t too sure how long things would last. Sure, when you were together, things were great, but actually getting together seemed impossible, these days. Right when you thought you could both make time, there was always something coming up, like an unplanned studio session, a meeting, or God knows what else. It didn’t help either that Marshall was paranoid about the two of you being seen together. 

After more than a decade in the spotlight and living in Los Angeles, you were used to paparazzi and having your picture taken whenever you were running errands. Of course, sometimes, it was annoying, but you had learned to live with it. Marshall, on the other hand, in spite of having a career lasting over twenty-five years was as paranoid as one could get. It was one of the many reasons why he hated being in Los Angeles and always tried to get you to come to Detroit instead, along with the weather being too hot. In truth, you didn’t mind going to Michigan or spending a lot of time inside, just the two of you. This time, however, you wished he would be the one making an effort. You were nominated for an Oscar for the first time and it was a big night for you. You knew he wasn’t a big fan of public appearances but you wished he would agree to coming with you. After all, he was a nominee himself - for the same movie as you, mind you - and everyone pretty much knew about your relationship, even though none of you had officially confirmed it. To you, there was no reason not to walk the red carpet together. However, when you asked him if he would be your date to the Academy Awards, he wasn’t too enthusiast. In fact, all you got from him was a « erm, I don’t know. We’ll see. Let me think about it. ». And after giving it some thought, he decided not to go with you, breaking it to you over FaceTime, three days before the event. He brought up a bunch of reasons, like having a studio session with Dre that might run late and prevent him from making it in time, hating the red carpet anyway and not wanting to be paraded in a suit that made him look like a penguin. He did not seem to care that you having to take someone else as your date would mean you wouldn’t be sitting next to each other or that you would have wanted him to be by your side. You were mad. You had always known he didn’t really care about awards and public appearances, but you wished he would make an effort for you. Him being set in his ways made you feel like he wouldn’t put you first, just for once. 

Do you even want to be with me ? You blurted out after he told you to find another date. 

What the fuck ? He asked with disbelief all over his face. What does that have to do with that damn red carpet, Y/N ? 

You cancelled the last time you were supposed to come to LA, you’re never available and now you won’t even make an effort for me, you explained. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just say so… 

You’re so dramatic, they better give you that Oscar, he groaned. Not everything is about you, you know ? I’m working my ass off to get the album done in time, I don’t need you complaining over a stupid red carpet appearance. 

Oh I’m being dramatic ? You asked as you stared at his face on the screen. I’ll give you drama : you can book a hotel room and forget about all the nasty things you were planning on doing to me in bed for next time we were supposed to see each other. 

Whatever, he said as he rolled his eyes. Just go and rehearse your acceptance speech. I have to go anyway. I have Dre calling on the other line. I’ll call you later. 

He did try to call you a couple of hours later, but you didn’t feel like picking up. You were still pissed off and, frankly, a little stressed out too. After all, he hadn’t answered your question about wanting to be with you. You knew you’d have to talk to him at some point - and get to the bottom of the situation, but you also didn’t want to break up over the phone merely three days before one of the most important events of your life. Whatever it was, it could wait until after the Oscars. 

You ended up walking the red carpet with your older brother as your date. The two of you were extremely close and he had always been your plus one to events. It sort of made sense to go to the Oscars with him, even though you would have loved to have Marshall by your side. Your big brother was all smiles as he watched you pose for the photographers in a stunning custom Alaïa dress. However, your attire or possible Best Actress win wasn’t exactly the main focus of the journalists, who were yelling questions about your boyfriend who was nowhere to be found. 

Where is Eminem, Y/N ? One asked. Is he coming tonight ? 

Are the two of you together ? Another yelled. 

You didn’t answer the questions about him, only the ones about your nomination, how you’d feel about winning, the movie and your outfit. You tried to focus on the positives and everything this night meant for your career, but you had a hard time focusing. All you wanted was Marshall’s hand in yours and him to be by your side. Hell, you had even picked the dress color because you thought he would like it. You knew that blue was his favorite color and had figured that, if the two of you were to walk the red carpet together, it would make his eyes pop. 

Breathe, your brother said. You look tense. Is this about Em ? 

Just call him by his name, you said as you rolled his eyes. You’ve met him. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be your date and enjoy the open bar, he continued, but you look… upset ? 

I think he wants to break up with me, you said nervously. 

No he doesn’t, your brother scoffed. Where did you get that from ? 

Well, he’s never available, he didn’t want to be here with me tonight, and he called me dramatic, and… 

First of all, you are dramatic, your brother chuckled. Also, you know he’s working a lot… 

I should have known better than to ask his biggest fan for support, you said as you rolled your eyes. 

Just shut up and focus on your big night, sis, he said with a smile. My baby sister might be getting the biggest award there is for being dramatic, tonight. Now, I think we should focus on that, as well as the fact that stylists managed to make you look presentable. 

Your brother’s weird encouragement was a good way to make you smile, and the glasses of champagne waiters kept on handing you did a great job when it came to taking the edge off. You were taken to your seats and the ceremony began. You kept nervously searching for Marshall in the crowd but you didn’t manage to spot him. Was he skipping the whole thing ? Your mind wandered as the ceremony unfolded and you were soon on autopilot. It was your first time attending the Academy Awards and this had to be the longest ceremony ever. The only entertaining things were the various performances. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the music of Marshall’s song - the one he had written for the movie. He was not supposed to perform tonight - this had not been announced - but he was on stage, rapping the song that got him his second Oscars nomination exactly twenty years after winning Best Original Song for Lose Yourself. The crowd was wild and you were excited as well. Seeing him on stage made you forget how mad at him you were and you were back to being his number one fan, gushing over how good he looked and rapping the lyrics at the same time, like the groupie you very much were. His performance got him a standing ovation and, twenty minutes and a commercial break later, he was back on stage, accepting the award for Best Original Song. Only this time, he was conforming to the Academy’s dress code, looking dapper in a tux. He might hate this type of outfit, but no one could deny he looked absolutely incredible. One detail did catch your eye : the bow tie he was wearing was made of the same fabric as your dress. He was matching with you ! 

When you wouldn’t return his calls, he called me to ask who you were going to wear, your brother told you. 

He did ? You squeed. 

Yep. Not the kind of thing anyone who wants to break up with you would do, I think. I’m not supposed to tell you, but he’s got another one to match your second dress, too… 

You couldn’t help but smile. The fact that he would go out of his way to call your brother, as well as the dressmakers to have a bowtie matching your dress was absolutely adorable. You couldn’t keep your eyes off Marshall, who was giving a heartfelt speech about how great it felt to have the Academy acknowledge hip-hop and how grateful he was to have the opportunity to be on this stage, two decades after Lose Yourself won. His speech was just like him : elegant and understated. When he went back to his seat, you could see him search for you in the crowd and you waved quietly, sending him a kiss. You couldn’t wait to go and hug him. 

Can’t you behave ? Your brother chuckled. There’s cameras, Y/N. And try not to eye fuck him or drool, this time, will you ? 

I’ll try, you giggled. 

You were almost in agony the rest of the night and the two of you kept looking  and smiling at each other. As always when the two of you were in the same room, you were unable to take your eyes off him for a single second. You didn’t pay much attention to anything else that was going on, so much so that you almost missed your name being called for Best Actress. Everyone around you got up and cheered for you and you were lost. You had actually won an Oscar ?! You ? It didn’t feel right. Bit it was indeed, your name on the screen, and people kept on looking at you. Your brother had to help you get up as you came to your senses and realized that your childhood dream had come true. You made your way to the stage as tears of joy were welling in your eyes. You were almost shaking with nerves as you started your acceptance speech. You had one written and memorized but you couldn’t remember it for the life of you. You spotted Marshall in the crowd, who was smiling and looking at you with pride in his eyes, mouthing a silent « I love you ». 

I… Wow, you said nervously into the microphone. I can’t believe this is happening. I had something really heartfelt, clever and funny written but I can’t remember a single word so please bear with me. Hum… Standing here, on this stage, holding this award is a childhood dream come true. First, I want to thank my family who has always supported my passion, and I’d like to thank everyone in Hollywood that gave me a chance to act. And everyone who didn’t. In fact, I want to acknowledge every person who doubted me. And every boyfriend of mine who called me dramatic. There have been a few, and you best believe I’m creating a group chat tonight and telling them that I actually got an award for being dramatic and made it my full-time job. Um… What else ? Oh, uh, thank you to my manager, assistant, glam squad… Shout out to Alaïa for getting me into this dress tonight, and shout out to Marshall Mathers who will be taking it off me tonight. Dreams do come true, guys ! 

The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter and you could see Marshall laughing before you exited the stage. When you made it backstage, you took a moment to sit and realize what just happened. You had won an Oscar. Oh, and you had accidentally mentioned Marshall taking off your clothes. On stage. While million of people probably watched the ceremony on TV… Oops. A few people came to congratulate you, though you were quickly ushered back to your seat for the remainder of the ceremony. The movie you were in did not end up winning Best Picture, but you easily got over your disappointment. When the ceremony ended, you were swarmed by an army of people who came to congratulate you. You even got to hug Meryl Streep and tell her how she was the one who made you want to act in the first place, and this was definitely the highlight of your night. Your brother had gotten out of your sight and was enjoying the open bar, as he always did whenever he came with you to an event. When the crowd began to vacate, you had a moment to yourself. That’s when you spotted your boyfriend. 

Congratulations, he said as he pulled you into his arms. 

Congratulations to you too, you said giddily. You were amazing on stage ! 

As were you, he replied with a smile. Great speech, by the way… 

Oh my God, I am so sorry, you said. I forgot my speech, and I-I… Are you mad ? 

It’s fine, he chuckled. You’re way too adorable for me to be mad. 

Really ? You asked nervously. I know how you are about privacy… 

Really, he said reassuringly. And with you looking like this… ? I am glad everyone knows you’re spoken for. 

I think they got the idea when they saw you matching with me, you said with excitement. 

You like it ? He asked with a smile. I had to ask your brother and harass the dressmakers. They hate me. 

He told me, you said giddily. And I know you have another one to match my dress for the afterparty, too… 

If you still want me as your date, that is, he pointed out. 

I do, you giggled. But I’m going to need your help to get out of this dress and into the other… 

Let’s go, then. 

He grabbed your hand and you walked out of the theater, holding your awards, while an army of journalists were screaming to get your attention. You half-expected Marshall to let go of your hand, knowing how guarded he was when it came to the press, but he only squeezed it tighter before grabbing you by the waist as you made your way to a car. 

Em, how are you feeling tonight ? A journalist asked. 

Have you seen my date ? I’m great, man, he grinned as he looked at you lovingly. 

VIDEO : WATCH AS EMINEM GUSHES OVER Y/N AFTER THE OSCARS

Eminem & Y/N have officially confirmed their relationship ! The couple did not walk the red carpet together but they certainly made a memorable exit, as Eminem gushed over his date to journalists while not letting go of her. This happened after Y/N hinted at Em taking her Alaïa dress off her in her acceptance speech. While the Rap God did not mention his girlfriend in his own speech, he certainly appeared in love. While known for his stoic face, he was seen smiling all evening, especially when they made their way to the Vanity Fair afterparty (almost an hour late, mind you…)  in matching outfits. And if he does not seem like one to kiss and tell, no one missed Y/N’s lipstick all over his mouth, nor the hickies in his neck. 

That night was a big one for the rapper and the movie star, as they both took home statues, respectively for Best Original Song and Best Actress. And from the looks of it, they certainly celebrated. 

[innerfare]

Eustass Kid Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Eustass Kid angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Lectures you on your fighting form, tears into you for taking any unnecessary risks, gets on your case about not seeking medical attention fast enough. Tells you to get some rest, sits at your bed side until you’re better, claims he’s not there for you and is just resting his own eyes. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Was always too ADHD to stand in front of the mirror for a full minute brushing his teeth, always ended up wandering around the ship while brushing and then forgetting to finish; only started staying put when you began joining him. 

Flowers: 

If it’s at the point where he’s buying flowers, this man is so far beyond pride he won’t flinch at purchasing a bundle of pink tulips, even if they clash with his outfit/aesthetic. He also presents you one night with a bouquet of metal flowers he made himself. He spent ages on it, but he really didn’t mean to. He intended to make one but got absorbed in his work and made an entire bundle of dainty little metal flowers. He’s oddly proud of himself for making something so delicate and would be crushed if you ever got rid of them. 

Type of Date: 

He’ll take you to a concert, best seats in the house. He would prefer rock, but he’ll go to any concert you want. Honestly has no qualms about pulling up to an Ariana Grande or Taylor Swift concert with you, won’t go so far as to learn the lyrics but will nod his head and dance with you because he doesn’t believe people should be ashamed of their music taste (that being said, he can’t help but be embarrassed by just how much he likes Olivia Rodrigo; Sour is punk rock and Brutal is his favorite song, no matter what Killer says). He’ll buy you two matching t-shirts, too. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

It’s as messy and ostentatious as you’d expect, but he sheepishly tries to fold the leopard-print blanket crumpled on the bed and put some laundry in the hamper, though you quickly deduce he has no clue which clothes belong in the hamper and which go in his closet. It’s shocking to see him care what someone thinks. He has a pile of lipstick and nail polish on his desk and an impressive collection of weapons he’s stolen from various pirates; he could probably open a museum with all the weapons he has. Also has lots of tools he forgot were in there. TBH, he’s probably as shocked as you are by the state of his cabin because he spends most of his alone time in his workshop, anyway. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

Actually loves to fight, lives to butt heads. Has a notoriously bad temper, meaning the two of you often fight. Serious fights usually happen because his temper got him into trouble. The number of arguments you’ve had while you’re patching him up because he got in a nasty bar is unreal. Your argument always over something stupid, at least in his opinion. He usually ends up storming off and locking himself in his workshop because he doesn’t want to yell at you too much but he’s furious with you and still has a bunch of adrenaline flowering through his bloodstream from his last fight. Alternately, he’ll start fights with you when feels like you’re keeping something from him, even if it’s something small, because it drives him crazy and he thinks you should be an open book. He's not really the jealous type when it comes to physical stuff, but he does get upset when you seem to have an emotional or intellectual connection with someone else, and that can cause some arguments. Oh, and fights are most definitely foreplay, so you can conclude how the two of you make up. 

Paradise 1: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Paradise 2: 

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again. 

Nightmares: 

It’s never like it happened with his first love, Victoria. And it’s always some way new. You fall overboard during a storm and drown, Kid diving into the water to save you but sinking due to his devil fruit ability, Killer diving in to save him but leaving you to die. You get deathly ill and he enlists the help of his ally, Trafalgar Law, to save your life, but he betrays Kid and kills you. He gets captured by a crew of enemy pirates, and when the crew comes to save him, you get killed in the crossfire. The nightmares just keep coming like this, you dying because he couldn’t protect you or expected someone else to do it for him. And each time he wakes up, it is with a renewed certainty that the only way to keep you safe is to do it himself.  

I Love You: 

You say it first. You say it a couple of times, actually, before you ever hear it back. You’re sitting in his workshop watching him build something, and you just sort of blurt the words out. You swear Kid hesitates before picking up the next piece of metal, but he gives no real acknowledgment you uttered those three words. Knowing exactly the sort of man he is and not expecting to receive anything in return, just wanting him to know how you feel in the moment, you aren’t actually offended, but you are wondering if he didn’t hear you. So, the next day in his workshop, you say it again, once more receiving no response. The third time you say it to him, catching him while he’s painting his nails, you receive a grunt in response (Kid is a man of grunts, not a man of words). Only in the heat of battle do you hear it back. He catches you around the waist and picks you up, and you fight thinking it’s an enemy, only for him to say, “I love you,” in your ear before deflecting a canon ball headed straight for the two of you and then setting you on your feet like nothing happened. From that point forward, he’ll say it, but only at inopportune times.

You’re Jealous: 

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[archangeldyke-all]

in my mind sev is such a bookworm so what about her and a reader who’s a baker and they live in the apartment above this really cute bookshop/bakery/cafe that they run and it’s like really cute and really gay and like i can see sev getting so excited whenever someone buys a book she likes and like youve got to stop her from spoiling the whole plot to the poor customer and she so steals all the pastries and cookies and cakes like no sev that’s for the cafe tomorrow and idk how bookshops work but i’d imagine they get books shipped in a few days before they release so they can stock them on release day so sevvy would be so excited to get to read whatever sequel or new book she’s looking forward to early idk this idea just feels really cute to me

just so fucking cute.

men and minors dni

sevika really tries to hate you.

when you move in to the vacant store next to hers and open your bakery, (when you move into the apartment next to hers upstairs) sevika decides on night one that she's going to hate you.

because, unlike a bookstore owner who can flop out of bed and open the store in her pajamas at ten, a baker has to be up at the crack of dawn to prepare for the day ahead.

which means at three in the morning, sevika wakes up to the sound of you showering on the opposite side of the thin wall separating your apartments, and then she's woken up again at four when a delivery truck full of flour and sugar stops outside your shops.

her grudge doesn't last long, though.

she doesn't even manage to hold it for a solid twelve hours, because during lunch, you close your bakery for thirty minutes and pop in to her little bookstore, asking for a recommendation from her-- 'something easy to read when there's a lull.'

sevika can never help herself from gushing about a good book. so you crack her grumpy facade a bit with that.

and when you offer to pay in fresh baked chocolate chip cookies-- sevika falls head over heels in love with you-- grudge completely forgotten.

it doesn't take long for the two of you to make it official. and it doesn't take long for you to turn your two separate businesses into one.

now, people can come into your bakery for a treat, grab a book, and find a cozy nook in the vast store of winding shelves and fluffy cushions to read and snack in.

now, sevika's most loyal customers can grab a snack while they sit at her little check out desk and discuss plot points with her in hushed, excited tones.

now, sevika can trudge downstairs with you when you wake up in the early morning and sleep on one of the couches near your kitchen, keeping you company with her snores as you knead dough and scoop muffins. (she can also send you up to take a nap when you inevitably crash around two in the afternoon after all your pastries are baked. 'you already cooked 'em babe, i can't burn 'em now. i know how to use a cash register-- go rest.')

and i can just imagine that as time passes and your seperate apartments upstairs turn into one home-- the backyards of your little shops would turn into one big garden, where sevika can sit and read to you in the evenings as you both sip on tea and share a new recipe you're experimenting with. (you grow all the berries you use in your pastries right there, all the herbs you need for your teas, a bunch of edible flowers for fancy displays and for your bees-- where you get your honey. you grow some veggies for sevika too-- she loves making you dinner after you've been in the kitchen all day.)

ugh. imagine how many store-cats you'd have. SO CUTE.

so cute. omg.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

[justnatoka]

Creatures of the night

Poly! Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: It's finally done! I had so much fun writing this! I would love to expand more on this idea. Let me know if you would be interested in that, or if you have any ideas for it. Maybe I'll write something that focuses more on the reader's relationship with the boys next. Also, I tweaked the timeline a bit for the sake of the story. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Sam wants to save his brother, so he asks for help from the Frog brothers. What he doesn’t anticipate is that they introduce him to you, the person who taught them everything about vampires.

Sam didn’t have many choices. Michael had been turned into a bloodsucking creature of the night, and as much as he wanted to help him – not least for his and their mother’s safety – he knew he couldn’t do it alone. So he went to the two people he could (hopefully) count on. If someone told him a few days ago that he would turn up on the doorstep of the Frog brothers’ comic book shop for advice on how to terminate vampires, he would have laughed in their face. But alas, here he was.

After listening to every detail about the recent changes in Michael’s behaviour, not to mention last night’s events – Nanook attacking his brother, seeing his half faded reflection in the mirror and the levitating act he performed outside Sam’s window – they took a moment to take everything in.

“This is serious, man” Edgar finally said then he turned to his brother. They exchanged a silent look and nodded before turning back to Sam.

“We’re gonna take you to someone” Alan announced.

“They taught us everything we know about vampires” Edgar explained solemnly.

Sam gulped. If this person is some kind of vampire expert, they could definitely use their help. He didn’t want Michael to be killed, but he couldn’t stay a bloodsucker either.

“Alright, take me to them.”

He got suspicious when they turned up at a totally normal looking house, and his apprehension only grew as the Frogs rang the doorbell. He waited with baited breath as a minute passed by without anything happening. Then finally, the door opened. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe someone with military style clothing that screamed “tough guy” – similar to what the Frog brothers tried, and ultimately failed to pull off in his personal opinion – but with big bulging muscles, who could knock out any vampire they saw. Or even a shady character with nervously twitching hands and a conspiratory look in their constantly moving eyes who’s always looking around for danger. But the person standing at the door was none of that. In fact, they were just… a normal person, around his brother’s age. He shot the Frogs a confused look, but they didn’t pay him any attention as they were too busy snapping their heels together and saluting with a unanimous,

“Good morning, boss.”

Their “boss” leaned against the doorway.

“’Sup?”

The reply was so casual, none of the Rambo wannabe bullshit the boys always used. That’s it, Sam was even more confused. They came to see this person?

“We need your help, boss. Seriously confidential business” Edgar explained. They nodded and disappeared inside.

“Come on in then.”

You led them up the stairs and into your bedroom for some privacy, then shut the door just in case your Dad left his workroom at the end of the hall. You sat down on your bed, the boys settling down on the carpet. Sam looked around. The bedroom was pretty normal as well, with a bookcase full of horror novels as far as he could see, a bunch of CDs next to a CD player and band posters of the walls. Although he spotted a few comics on the nightstand that looked similar to the ones the Frogs gave him.

“So,” you rested your arms on your knees and laced your fingers together, glancing between the boys. “What is it?”

The brothers turned their heads towards Sam. You’ve been wondering how Edgar and Alan knew him since you first saw them standing in front of your house. His clothes were fashionable, his hair styled. He wasn’t exactly the type of person the boys usually hang around.

“How do you know each other?” he asked instead. Looks like he was thinking along the same lines.

“I used to look after them when they were younger” you answered casually.

He blinked before directing his growing exasperation towards the brothers.

“Your babysitter? You brought me to your babysitter?”

“Former” Alan added as if that was the biggest problem with this whole situation. Sam let out a frustrated huff.

“And how exactly are they supposed to help my brother? Don’t tell me that all your knowledge comes from these” he waved his hand in the direction of your bookshelves.

“Actually, most vampire related media is full of bullshit” you interjected.

He froze. “How did you…?”

“…know that your brother was turned into a vampire?” You finished with a smirk. “I know a lot about what goes on in this town. I know who turned your brother and most likely how they did it. I know he’s been googly-eyed about a girl who hangs around a rather questionable crowd. He’s been acting strange ever since he met her, right?”

Sam just gaped, not knowing what to say before shutting him mouth and nodding. You gave an understanding nod in return.

“Is he fully turned?”

When a confused frown appeared on his face you added, “Has he taken any blood? Killed someone?”

“No, I don’t think so. He’s a jerk, but he couldn’t kill anyone.”

You smiled at the sibling banter. “Then he’s only half. The way things stand now, there are two options for your brother. One, he eventually loses the fight against the bloodlust and ends someone’s life, becoming a full-fledged vampire. Or two, you find the head vampire and kill him. That way, every half-vampire that was turned using his blood will become human again.”

Silence fell on the room as they mulled over what they just heard. It was Edgar who spoke up at last.

“Then we have to find the head vampire. Do you have any ideas who it is?” he turned to Sam.

“Maybe” he hesitated. “But I’m not sure.”

You reached across to your nightstand, grabbing one of the comics lying there and handing it to them.

“This might give you some ideas.”

Sam took the comic into his hands, eyeing it skeptically.

“Didn’t you say that most vampire related media is full of bullshit?”

“Not this one” you reassured him.

“How do you know?”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “My dad writes them.”

You thoroughly enjoyed the surprised look on his face before he opened it and turned a few pages.

“Hounds of Hell” he read aloud before glancing back at you. You could already see the gears turning in his head, a thought forming behind his eyes, something akin to recognition, but not fully there yet.

“Thank you. Let’s go guys, we have to make a plan” he gestured to the other two then rushed out the door. Edgar and Alan hurriedly got to their feet, and with a quick goodbye they ran after their friend.

They failed massively. Sam was so sure about Max being the head vampire, however he passed all their tests. And above that, his mom got mad at him for ruining her date night. Again. But now they were getting ready to head to the hideout of the group that turned Michael. The Frogs reassured him that they’re coming armed with stakes and other weapons to kill the head vampire. Meanwhile, Michael can go and rescue his girlfriend. One thing was for sure: this time they were finishing the job.

You let out a shaky breath as you put down the phone. You just received a call from Alan, telling you that they are going to the vampire hideout. They planned to kill off who they thought was the head vampire. They wanted to let you know in case anything happened to them. You were cursing out loud while you shrugged on your coat in a hurry and ran out the door. This isn’t how things were supposed to play out. They were blindly walking into a den of wolves, having no idea what they were up against. This situation could only result in someone getting hurt. All you could hope was that you got there in time, before they did something stupid and irreversible.

Edgar and Alan led the way down the stairs and into the cave. It had a bunch of warning signs, and looked like it has been abandoned for decades. However, as they entered the gaping mouth into the darkness, they arrived into a space that resembled a hotel lobby, albeit all messed up and crumbled, but still in a pretty good shape. It would have been a very cool hideout, Sam thought, if it didn’t belong to a bunch of nightcrawlers. It was sure as hell that this place was lived in.

He helped Michael get down the sloping entrance, just as the Frogs discovered Star sleeping in one of the corners.

“Don’t you touch her! You stay away from her!” His brother could barely stand on his own two feet, yet he scrambled over to the girl.

“The rest of them are gotta be around here someplace. Let’s find them.” Edgar motioned for Alan.

“I can’t let you do that” came a voice from behind then. Startled, they turned around. There you stood near the mouth of the cave, your form half in the shadows. “I can’t let you kill them.”

“Why not? They are bloodsucking monsters!”

You stepped forward, shaking your head.

“My answer is still no. Take the girl and the little boy, then leave. They will go after you to try and bring them back, and you’ll probably have to fight them. But you can’t kill them here and now.”

Sam looked over to the Frogs and couldn’t believe his eyes when they seemed to hesitate.

“No! This is crazy! We have to end them now. This is our best chance while it’s still daylight. Come on, guys.”

“You can’t kill them all at once. Not like this. You’ll need a more solid plan for that than a few wooden stakes. If you end one of them now, they’re gonna come for you with even more vengeance. They know this place like the back of their hand, and you don’t. There’s a high chance you won’t even make it out of this cave alive.”

It certainly made sense. The more Sam thought about it, the more ill-prepared this all seemed. If they are really such bloodthirsty killers like Michael told him, maybe it was better to rethink their strategy instead of just rushing headfirst into a dark cave full of dangerous vampires.

He was still a little disappointed they couldn’t just end it here and now, but as he turned to the Frog brothers, he saw it in their eyes that they cracked. They will follow what their “boss” told them to do.

“Alright. What do we do?” he sighed.

“Let’s regroup somewhere safe. Then we can come up with a plan for tonight. As soon as they discover you took those two, they’ll come after you. That only leaves a couple of hours to prepare for an attack.”

“We can go back to ours, fortify the house.” You and Sam exchanged a serious look as you nodded.

“Sounds good. Let’s get going.”

The boys helped Michael carry Star and Laddie, as he was rapidly losing strength. When they passed you on the way out, Sam was sure he heard you let out a relieved sigh. He guessed you were worried about Edgar and Alan running into danger. You certainly looked like you cared about them. Shortly after they got up to the car, you also joined them. They didn’t question what took you so long, they didn’t have to know about the note left behind.

As you got into the driver’s seat – seeing as Michael was in no shape to drive – Sam wondered about how lucky they were to have you on their side. Someone with knowledge about vampires, who could also be the voice of reason if need be. It could have ended a lot worse if they got into a fight with those bloodsuckers in the tight corridors of the cave.

It was over. The last few hours have been a flurry of rushed preparations that morphed into total chaos as the vampires came. Sam was still reeling from all the running and fighting and screaming, the feeling of victory as they took down all of them, followed by the chilling panic as Max made his appearance, finally showing his true face. But it was over now.

His mom and Michael were hugging him, Star was hugging Laddie, and he could have sworn he heard the Frog brothers saying something about charging them for this, but he honestly couldn’t care less. Grandpa made his way into the kitchen, opening a beer and grumbling about all the damn vampires in Santa Carla.

They were all too busy with relief to notice you standing back, anxiously gnawing at your lips, waiting, listening for any sound from other parts of the house. Then a groan came from the workshop, and a smile spread on your face.

Everyone else jumped, the Emersons huddled together with Grandpa peeking out from the kitchen. Michael drew Star closer to him, Laddie clinging to her other hand. The Frog brothers were on their feet in an instant, taking up some improvised fighting stances. All staring cautiously towards the workshop, they collectively almost had a heart attack as they watched David sit up on the table with another grunt. After some struggling he slipped off the horns piercing through him with a sickening wet sound. He cracked his neck and let out a satisfied sound from deep in his chest. The puncture wounds on his torso already started to heal. They frantically turned around as more footsteps were heard approaching from different parts of the house. Sam looked at his brother in a panic. How is this possible? They were sure they killed them. He saw Michael tense up. He was pulling what little energy he had left together and getting ready for another fight. The problem was, he turned back into a human as Max died. They probably wouldn’t be able to fight them off in the state they were in, tired and bruised.

The rest of David’s gang emerged, a little worse for wear but healing rapidly.

“Look out!” came Alan’s frantic voice when he saw the three vampires approach you from behind.

“You okay, babe? Hope we weren’t too rough on ya.” As Paul sneaked an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, you leaned into him.

Everyone just stared at you in dumbfounded silence. David’s footsteps thudded loudly as he circled around their group and stood beside you and his brothers. Without even looking, you laced you fingers together with his. It seemed so natural. That’s what went through Michael’s mind as he watched the little show of affection between you and the vampires. This didn’t happen yesterday, this has been an ongoing thing for a while.

Alan was the first to voice what everyone was wondering.

“How is this possible? We killed you” he pointed an accusatory finger at the bloodsuckers.

“That’s gonna stay our secret” you stated. “I might have taught you everything you know about vampires, but I didn’t teach you everything I know.”

“So you were with them all along?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“Of course I was. How do you think I know so much about the creatures of the night?”

“Boss… you really betrayed us for the enemy?” Edgar’s voice sounded so hurt it almost broke your heart.

“Max was the enemy.” Your matter-of-fact tone did nothing to ease the situation. In fact, it only made the boys angrier.

“But they hurt people!” Alan shouted. Dwayne took a step forward and Marko let out a low growl at his raised voice. You quickly let go of David’s hand and gently put it on Dwayne’s arm. You made sure to give Marko a reassuring glance as well before continuing.

“You don’t have to agree with my actions. I love them, and that’s enough for me.” You turned toward Michael. “At least that’s something I think you can understand.”

He gave you a silent nod as he held Star closer to his side.

“For what?” Sam mumbled. “You put your friends in danger” he motioned to the Frog brothers, his voice rising in volume, “but for what? What was the point of this whole thing?”

“First of all, they were never in any real danger. Except when you planned to ambush David and the others in the cave. That could have ended really badly.”

“They planned to do what?!” Marko almost lunged at them again, but Paul held him back.

“Come on, bud. It won’t do any good, if we kill them now” he tried to reason with him.

“To hell with that! We were holding back all the while they tried to kill us multiple times. Tried to ambush us! I say we finish them now.”

David’s cool voice broke through the argument.

“As much as I’d like to do that, you’re forgetting the fact that they are Y/N’s friends. They asked us not to hurt them.”

Marko seemingly realized his mistake, glanced at you and hung his head. He let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry, sugar” he mumbled.

“Is that true?” It was Edgar who spoke up this time. He was looking at you intensely. “You told them not to hurt us?”

You nodded.

“They were never going to kill you, they just had to make it believable. Like I said, Max was the enemy. We knew he planned to turn Michael’s family, and we saw an opportunity. You wanted to turn your brother back” you turned to Sam, “and the boys wanted Max gone. Our problem was one and the same. And now everyone got what they wanted.”

“You pointed us towards Max. With the comic” Sam realized.

You nodded again.

“Things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but it turned out fine in the end. I knew Max would come out of hiding if the boys were in danger. So I left them a note in the cave about the change of plans. Max was smart. We had to make it look like they died for him to appear.”

You could tell your explanation didn’t exactly placate them, tensions were still high, but that was okay. You anticipated their anger. You didn’t mind it so long as everyone was alive.

“If you would excuse us, this has been a long night. Me and my boys will leave you to be.”

You sent a sad smile towards Edgar and Alan as you walked past them. You could tell they still had some things they wanted to say, but decided not to, at least not now. It really has been a long night, and everyone just wanted it to end already. Your departure was followed by a long silence as they were trying to make sense of everything. Eventually, Grandpa spoke up.

“Those damn vampires, I’m telling ya.” He just shook his head and headed for his workshop.

You were also silent on your way back to the cave. Paul nudged your arm.

“You okay, babe?” he asked with a hint of worry on his handsome face.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you sighed. “I just hope I didn’t ruin my friendships.”

“They will come around” he reassured you. “And if they don’t, you still have us” he sent you a cheeky smile.

The corner of your lips finally turned upright.

“Thank you” you whispered as you leaned into him more.

“Don’t mention it, dollface.”

You looked over at your lovers, resting your gaze on all their faces for a long moment. You were just happy they were all okay.

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! halloween headcanons ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

i know it’s july, i just love halloween time and it’s basically around the corner now that i think about it :3 but anywho here are some of my silly headcanons of what costumes/activities the haikyuu characters would do on halloween ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

characters: tsuki, kuroo, bokuto, sugawara, semi, osamu

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

tsukishima

probably thinks halloween is lame and doesn’t want to participate but i feel like you could convince him

at MOST he might put on some face paint or animal ears

would rather stay in and watch scary movies

probably randomly starts ranting about how halloween is a capitalist holiday or something

buys a huge bag of candy but only eats all the strawberry starburst and leaves the rest for you

when you’re at a suspenseful part of the movie he screams just to scare you

makes fun of all the people in bad costumes passing by his house with you

kuroo

has the ugliest costume ideas ever

bro is pulling up to the function as papa smurf

i know he’d be such a huge halloween fan

he lets you paint him blue 😭

probably invites you to a festival or party

takes 1000 pics of your night together

offers to carry your candy and literally just starts eating yours instead of his

tells scary stories all night and ends up scaring both of you guys

constantly talking about how good you look, bro is a sweetie pie

eats so much candy and goes home with a stomach ache

bokuto

i feel like he’d like halloween because he’d like dressing up but at the same time he would literally just wear any costume

i feel like his costume would also be really low budget and last minute but still cute

imagine bokuto as finn from adventure time ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

challenges you to see who can get more candy but somehow loses (eats) most of his candy by the end of the night

participated in every festival activity, like he is NOT playing about that sac race

i also feel like he might participate to be the person that sits in that dunk tank while people try to throw a ball at the target and make them fall yk?

someone gave him raisins and he was genuinely distraught

makes akaashi go to booths he already visited so he can get more candy (they stopped giving it out to him)

sugawara

he does NOT play about his halloween costumes

imagine suga as mr fox from fantastic mr fox :3

would probably make a million silly tiktok’s

also participates in every festival activity

he’s the one who hits the target and dunks bokuto into the water tank

offers you a bunch of his candy and then says you guys shouldn’t eat it because it’s bad for you

also eats like 3 caramel apples in that same breath

wants to end the night watching a horror movie and also jump scares you during suspenseful moments

semi

would probably throw a party and invite you ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

probably just does cool skeleton face paint or something

plays the best music and has the best food

dedicates like half of his whole night to scaring you and gets tendou to help

leaves someone else in charge of the party while you two sneak off to his room with a bunch of snacks and drinks

maybe he even plays a song on guitar for you :o

he puts on a genuinely scary movie that has both of you in tears 😭

osamu

forgot to get a costume so he went as atsumu 😭

invites you to a halloween festival with him, not because he likes them but just to hang out with you and some of his friends

he and atsumu keep challenging each other at games and they both keep winning stuff

wins so many prizes at the booths and gives all of them to you

i feel like he’d only eat the twix bars he gets and no other candy

he’d probably want to leave the festival early bc he got bored

gets you guys junk food on the way home bc he’s tired

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,218

Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.

He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.

So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.

As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.

These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.

By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”

Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.

"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."

Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."

"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."

"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."

"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."

The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.

"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.

It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You know the important things, you think.

You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.

The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

Perma Tag List: @Mbioooo0000

[petew21-blog]

Can you do an old man criminal young soldier body swap, please?

Ben, the freshly enrolled cadet, had to wake up early that day. Why? Because some old dipshit had to escape prison few days ago and was rumored to be in the area nearby. The military was there to help the police in order to capture this escapee.

The split into groups. Ben's group got the forest. They got near an old cabin that has been abandonem many years ago

They searched the area and entered the building. Besides discovering some voodoo rituals they also found proof of someone squatting here not that long ago. There was a warm lighter on the doorstep of the backdoor entrance.

Ben's P.O.V.

"He can't be far. Must have heard us closing in." one of my firends screamed out.

The group got out of the building. I stayed behind to take photos and look for more evidence for the police. What I didn't expect was that he run out of the secret room beneath the floor and jump me.

He was strong for an old man. But he had an advantage, because I honestly had no idea that he was there. I have to get him or I'll get in trouble.

A fight followed. He managed to get me on the ground and choke me. Then he pulled away a bit, because he resched for the voodoo totem in the middle of the ritual. He snapped the totem in half. Bunch of mess, dust and something smelly fell directly into mine and his face.

The last thing I remember was him laughing hysterically. Then, darkness.

I woke up to the sound of my group approaching. They must have heard the screaming and the old man's laughter. I opened my eyes and then pain followed. My face was pressed on the ground. My hands behind my back, handcuffed.

"Now you'll go back where you belong fucker." I heard a VERY familiar voice.

I turned my head and saw my own body talking to someone. At that moment, I don't know what came over me. I got hysterical. Maybe if I explained who I am and gave them some details, then they might have trusted me. But I only screamed and cried and scream again.

The police arrived and the last thing I saw was my body looking at me with a mischievous grin, grabbing my body's crotch and winking at me.

This can't be happening

Abraham's P.O.V.

I am finally free. The escape was only a small part of the plan. The bigger one was to get all the ingredients to do the ritual and swap with someone. Poor fucker, he's gonna get a proper beating in jail. Well that's not my problem now. My only goal is to go unnoticed and start my new young life.

Ah, man. I can't wait much longer. They have to leave now or else I might explode all this cum right here in these clothes.

It took them 30 more minutes before they left me alone. I didn't have any chores as a reward for capturing him. Heh, right you fuckers. I won't be staying much longer.

I collapsed on the chair. Pretending to be someone else is surprisingly more stressful than I rememeber.

Anyway. Time to explore this new body! Wait! This guy seems strong. Let me just try something

Holy shit. What a stamina. It doesn't even hurt to lift myself. And those abs. Yeah. I'll be enjoying this. I laid down on the bed.

These are so hot man. I have NEVER in my life had these before. He must be in great shape overall.

I took off my shirt and decided I want to have some fun

Let's show these fucker's who's really storno. I got into the gym to show off my new body. Some of the guys tried not to look at me, but others just kept staring.

I went to the showers to enjoy myself in the mirror. Someone left their shaving cream and I could already feel the need to shave.

"Man, I look great!"

I took off the rest of the clothes and hopped into the shower. Being this fit is truly awesome. The tightness and horniness that I feel from beeing this strong is undiscrabable. I started jerking my new cock. Which was nicely curved, not that big, but wide enough to please some of the women I'm about to fuck. Or men, who knows.

I masturbated with no shame at all. Someone even came during my session and rather left instead of watching me enjoy myself. I finished all over the floor and just left it there.

Before the end of the day I was released from my duties for many inappropriate behavioirs. How should I know that those guys don't like to experiment with each other. I don't know what their issue was.

Anyway, I got on the nearest bus to get into town. Found the nearest shop and got me some fine cigarettes.

"I have missed this so fucking much" I said before coughing rapidly. "Not used to it, huh boy? Well don't worry, that's about to change" I took a puff of my cigarette heading of to the nearest bar.

A new life begins!

[absurdthirst]

The Cinderella Effect {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.2k

Warnings: Stranger sex, fingering, angst, slightly cum kink, semi-public sex, handjob, oral sex (female receiving)

Comments: Meeting up with your boss at a masked ball at the Embassy,  you indulge in a night you never dreamed would happen. For his womanizing, Javier Peña never looked at you. So you never figured that he would go looking for you the day after. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Javi is bored, sick of these functions for the DEA. If only these department heads actually went out in the field, they wouldn’t be enjoying these swanky parties while their men and women risked their lives, he knows it firsthand how dangerous it is and if he knew how these assholes were partying it up while he was chasing down Escobar, he would’ve lost his shit. Still, he’s one of them now. Lost in the fucking bureaucracy since he’s “too old” for the field. 

He leans against the bar, face itching from the stupid mask he has to use that his assistant bought for him last minute for this masquerade ball. Bunch of bullshit if you ask him. Until he sees her. This woman walks into the ballroom and he is swallowing harshly. Her dress is form fitting but not tight enough to be inappropriate. He can’t help the way his feet move towards her.

**** 

You are nervous as hell, walking into the ballroom, and suddenly your dress feels too tight and the mask is too itchy. You want to rip it off but you can’t, knowing he will recognize you. Your boss, Javier Peña, has for the better part, been the reason you have remained at the DEA. You shouldn’t want him but you do. As his assistant, you help him every day but he doesn’t notice you, too busy with his work and those hookups you know he has with the women from the FBI. He won’t fuck within his department. He’s made that very clear. So tonight is all you have to enjoy yourself, deciding that you’d attend since it’s a masquerade and you can hide behind the mask and hopefully avoid seeing Javier. You want to enjoy yourself tonight, be someone other than yourself.

Javi moves between the couples, touching shoulders and parting the way to where she is standing. She’s aloof, looking around like everyone in the room is beneath her. Maybe they are, although Javi never likes pretentious assholes, she seems regal - like a princess. He snorts to himself, scoffing internally at the idea that a princess would ever attend a DEA function, but still he has to talk to her. She is the one person who has captured his attention and he wants to see if her allure was just skin deep. Making his way to her side, she doesn’t see him at first, allowing him to lean in close and catch a whiff of her seductive perfume. “Looking for someone?” He asks quietly. 

You manage to swallow your gasp as you turn to look at Javier, certain that he will recognize you. “Uh, no - no one in particular.” You answer, wondering if he will recognize your voice.

There is something familiar about this woman, but he can’t put his finger on it. Carefully examining the eyes doesn’t bring any recognition, so he leans a little closer, confidence building now that he knows you're alone. He’s got charm and knows how to use it when he wants to. “Then it’s a good thing that I found you first.” He flirts, keeping his dark eyes on yours beneath the masks. 

You exhale shakily, the words on the tip of your tongue to tell your boss it’s you but you don’t. Maybe tonight, you can be on the receiving end of his flirtations instead of having to manage them for him once he gets bored. You are here tonight to be someone else and that’s what you are doing to do. “Definitely a good thing. Except I need a drink. Would you mind escorting me to the bar?” You ask, a smirk playing on your lips.

The invitation came easy and it makes Javi send you a smirk of his own. Nodding his head to the side, he offers you his arm to take. “What else can I do but escort a beautiful woman?” He asks, pleased when your fingers wrap around the juncture of his elbow. “Although, I would like to know your name.” He turns and steers you towards the open bar in the far corner of the room. 

You let him guide you and you know you can’t give him your name, it would give you up. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t recognize you, honestly telling you that you don’t matter to him other than in a work capacity, but you’d already known that and tonight is about being someone else. You click your tongue, “ah ah ah. You have to earn my name. I know who you are…the infamous Javier Peña. Maybe I’ll tell you my name once you’ve earned it.” You tease as you approach the bar.

He’s disappointed you won’t tell him your name and slightly uneasy that you know his. His reputation is one that has followed him like a cloud, and he hadn’t done much to change it. Instead of letting it get to him, he grins. “Then I will just have to make sure I earn it, hmm?” He raises a hand when the bartender comes over. 

“What can I get for you, sir?” 

He turns to you, wanting you to order whatever you want first. “Lady’s first.”

You smile at him before you order a whiskey, neat. You want something you can sip and not drink too fast. The last thing you want to do is get drunk and end up telling Javi who you are. He'd be halfway across the room before you can finish your name. He seems impressed with your drink order and you lean against the bar, admiring his profile as he orders the same. 

"So...do you work for the DEA?" He asks, trying to figure out who you are. Maybe you're just party crashing. Which honestly, he would think is hilarious considering the 'security' the DEA tries to uphold. 

"I work for the DEA." You confirm and he tilts his head, "which department?" 

You shake your head, "now that would ruin the mystery. Come on, let's just enjoy tonight." You plead softly, not wanting him to continue his interrogation.

There is a slight pout on his face, but he doesn’t press the issue. “The fact that you don’t want me to know who you are makes you even more impressive in this crowd.” He tells you, glancing around. “All of these fuckers can’t wait to tell you who they are and how much power they wield.” It’s refreshing, although frustrating. He wonders if you are someone he’s slept with in Colombia, narrowing his eyes at the thought. “You were never in Colombia, were you?”

You shake your head, “no. No. I’ve been in D.C for years. As for these men…most of them are insecure and have small pricks that they inflict on their poor mistresses while their wives go around D.C hobnobbing with their counterparts comparing their latest purse their husband bought after his latest affair got discovered.” You snort, having first hand experience. 

You’ve ordered enough “I’m sorry” bouquets for half the men in this room. You have never done that for Javi. As much as his reputation precedes him, he has always been upfront about his intentions, never bs-ing about how he wants a relationship before he turns around and fucks someone else.

Javi chuckles and has to agree. “Sounds like you know all of that firsthand.” He wonders if you are a secretary for one of them, trying to remember what a few of them look like. He’s quit trying to sweet talk any of them, and he doesn’t sleep with anyone around the office anymore after it back fired on him. 

He should have already said a polite “goodnight” to you and walked away, but he finds you irresistible and you don’t seem tired of his company. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Men are assholes. I say that as one myself.”

You chuckle, “the women are no better. Most of them try to prove themselves by stepping on each other to impress their male bosses which is bullshit to me. People should get their jobs based on their merits, not if they have a cock or not.” Your eyes widen when you realize how brash you’re being. “I, uh, sorry. Office hierarchy isn’t exactly a party conversation.” You fluster, taking a sip of your drink.

Javi smirks, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “that’s what’s making this fun.” He leans back and takes a sip of his drink. “I admire someone who cuts through the bullshit.” He tells you. “I fucking hate politics.” It’s laughable, considering he had come back to this, unable to settle down and help his pop run the ranch in Texas. 

He knew he hadn't; he couldn't do field work again, but he had taken up the DEAs offer of a position in D.C. wondering how long it would be before his ass landed in hot water again for running his mouth.

You know how much he hates bureaucracy, giving you all of his files to type up because he hates reports. “Me too. All the lies and deception and for what? The bad guys to just have more time to do bad things while we have to cut through the red tape.” You shake your head, “to hating politics.” You toast and he clinks his glass against yours. Your heart thumps at the soft look in his eyes, knowing he has never looked at you like that when you are working with him as his assistant. You swallow another gulp of the amber liquid, ignoring the burn in the back of your throat. 

“You wanna dance?” He asks and your eyes widen. 

“Me?” You ask and he chuckles. 

“No, the gorgeous woman behind you.” You see him roll his eyes and you chuckle nervously, setting down your glass. 

“Sure.” You tell him, taking his outstretched hand.

The song ends and the next one is slower, sensual. Perfect for pulling the mysterious woman into his arms and using it as an excuse to press close to you. Feeling the lines of your body mold against his and leaning in close enough that he could taste the whiskey on your breath. His hand is splayed low on your back, not enough to get him slapped, but enough to feel the curve of your ass. 

“So you hate office politics, like whiskey and keeping a man guessing.” He hums playfully. “What else should I know about the woman in my arms?”

You smile wryly, loving how you have him on edge for a change. “Well, I love having a man on his toes.” You tease and grip his shoulders a little tighter, deciding to be ballsy. “And I - I have always wanted you to touch me.” 

He chuckles, sliding his hands a little lower, “I am touching you.” 

You shake your head and chuckle, “no. No. I want you to touch me.”

Javi’s nostrils flare, picking up on your meaning. “You’ve wanted me?” He asks, thrilled when you nod, his hands tightening on your ass. Blowing out a harsh breath, he looks around for the nearest exit. He knows that he would fuck you right now, his cock is already half hard. “Why don’t we get out of here?” 

You whimper at the way he grabs you, unable to believe he wants you like that. Well, he doesn’t want you. He wants this mysterious woman. For a moment, you panic because you know if you go back to his place, he will want your mask to come off and then he would turn back on fucking you. “Follow me.” You order, grabbing his hand to guide him through the crowd until you are on the balcony that overlooks the Mall. No one is out here, it’s slightly chilly and dimly lit, almost dark.

“Here?” Javi smirks as he looks around, noticing that it deserted beyond the two of you. 

“Here.” You sound almost breathless. He reaches for the bottom of his mask, ready to pull it up and kiss you. “Keep your mask on.” You demand suddenly, making him frown but he doesn’t pull it up. 

“You want to keep the mystery, chica?” He coos, enjoying the playfulness of the situation. It’s been a long time since he has been carefree. This might be exactly what he needs,

“Come here, baby.” You order, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him close and you tilt your head just so you can press your lips to his. It’s thrilling, knowing he wants you. Well, this version of you. He doesn’t want his mousy assistant. You sigh into the kiss when he responds, grabbing your ass again.

Javi presses you up against the stonewall of the building, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a groan. Grinding against you and pressing his hard cock against your hip. “Fuck.” He pants into your mouth after he pulls back slightly.

You cling to him, sliding your hands along his jacket until you can get beneath it, desperate to untuck his shirt so you can touch his skin. His lips are kissing down your neck and you are lost in the sensation of his mustache tickling you. “Oh God, Javi.” You whimper, sliding your hand lower to squeeze his cock, gasping at how big he is.

He groans, wishing he knew your name so he could give you that same feeling, the way he shivered when you moan his name as he pulls your dress up. “Gonna fuck you right here.” He promises, forgetting everything but the way that you are letting him touch you however he wants.

When his fingers slide under your panties, you bite your lip to conceal your moan but he tuts, reaching up with his free hand to release your lip with his thumb. “I want to hear you. No one else can hear you but me.” He assures you and you moan when his fingers slide through your soaked folds until he is rubbing your clit. Your hands shake as you work on unbuckling his belt, anxious to touch him, feel him in any way you can.

Javi bites his lip, loving how wet your cunt is and he can’t wait to slide inside you. It’s been a long time since he had been this eager. Keeping his thumb pressed against your clit while two fingers slide deep inside after circling your entrance to gather up your wetness. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He hisses, pumping his finger into you to stretch you out as he kisses along your neck.

“Oh shit.” You moan at how thick his fingers feel inside of you. It’s incredible and you buck down onto his hand. “I- oh God. It’s been a while.” You admit, having spent far too much time lusting after your boss. You manage to pull his zipper down, reaching in to squeeze his cock. “God you’re big.” You hiss when he curls his fingers just right.

He grunts, not unhappy that you think that he’s impressive. He’s just never really worried about that, but he twitches in your hand. “It’s okay.” He promises. “You’ll cum on my fingers before I fuck you.”

You struggle to pump him with the way his fingers are curling deep inside of you, and you hiss in response, unable to believe how good it feels. “Yes. God, gonna make me cum.” You whine, worked up from the fact that your boss is fingering you.

“Good.” He groans, kissing your pulse before he scrapes his teeth over it. His fingers continue to pump into you frantically, wanting to make you cum. “Want to feel how tight you get.”

You squeeze his cock before your grip slackens as you cum, clamping down on his fingers. “Oh fuck. Jav- oh.” You gasp into his chest as you lean forward to smother your moan. He works you through it until your legs are shaking and he pushes you further into the wall to keep you upright. “Please fuck me.” You plead breathlessly, wanting him inside of you. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

It’s music to his ears, pulling his fingers out of you and wrapping them around his cock. Using your juices to slick himself up and shuffles closer to you. His other hand cups your chin and he makes your eyes meet his. “I want to look in your eyes when I slide inside you.” He tells you as he lines himself up and starts to push inside you.

You lift your leg to hitch it on his hip to allow him more access to your pussy as he pushes into you. It takes your breath away and you are speechless as he stretches you out. Your eyes are on his brown - nearly black - ones and you can’t look away as he groans softly. “Javi.” You moan, eyelashes fluttering with the effort to keep your eyes open.

He knows that voice. He’s heard it, but right now all he can focus on is the way that your cunt grips him. Your whimper when he is firmly buried inside you is beautiful and he pauses for just a second, enjoying the way you flutter around him before he starts to move. Hard, deep thrusts, designed to get both of you off before anyone comes outside.

You pant as he starts to move, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out too loudly, and you cling to him, arms wrapped around his neck as he moves his hip. “Oh God. It’s so good.” You whine, already close because of the way he’s grinding deep.

He groans, loving how vocal you are being. The solid slap of his hips muffled by the rucked up material of your dress and his suit pants. “Tight.” He hisses, turning his head and kissing along your jaw before he bites down on it gently. “So fucking tight.”

The way he bites your jaw and the unhinged sound of his growl has you cumming. Clamping down on his cock as you surge forward to bury your face in his neck, muffling the cry of his name as you soak his cock, your leg shaking as you try to remain standing.

Eyes closing, Javi pushes his hips harder, sloppily chasing his own end while you cling to him. It’s wet and tight, making him grit his teeth while he pushes into you despite the tight grip of your walls around him. “Fuck.” He hisses quietly, feeling his own body start to cum. He pushes deep, grinding up into you as he remembers that you said you are on birth control. Gasping in your ear while his cock twitches, sending ropes of his hot seed deep into your womb.

You sigh in bliss when his cum paints your walls, loving the grunts and groans that escape him. You’ve always wondered how he sounds when he cums. “So good.” You coo, rubbing his shoulders as he stills inside of you, riding his high.

Javi loves kissing when he cums, loves having his lips on his partner in some way. Moving from your ear along your jaw, he kisses his way to your lips and gives you a surprisingly tender kiss for someone who just fucked a stranger against the wall of the building during a work party. “I’ll never look at Cinderella the same way.” He teases, his cock starting to soften inside you before he gives you one last kiss and starts to slowly pull out of you.

You chuckle, lost in the aftermath of your orgasm until you realize what you’ve just done. You just had sex with your boss at a party. “Oh shit.” You close your eyes and he lowers your leg, adjusting your panties to keep his cum inside of you. “I, uh, I have to go.” You rush out, pushing on his chest to get away from the wall, and you manage to get under his arm as he steps back. “I had such a good time but I’ve got to go, Javi.” You tell him, not looking back as you enter the ballroom, pushing through the crowd to get away from your boss. He can’t find out who you are now, it’s impossible. He would never want the mousy version of you, he has never shown interest. You got one night with him and that will have to suffice.

****

Javi groans in relief as he hears his secretary arrive outside the door to his office where her desk is located. It’s been a long night. After being left by the mystery woman at the party, he hadn’t been able to go home. Instead he had gone to his office, a spare suit hanging in the closet for later, although he’s still wearing the dress shirt and pants from the suit he wore to the masquerade party. The shirt sleeves rolled up and another fucking cigarette between his lips as he tries to search the computer records for every woman who is assigned to the DEA here. He wants to find her again, to ask her why she fled and it’s eating at him.

You are nervous when you enter Javier’s office, then shocked when you see him still wearing the clothes from last night. He never went home. You frown and step closer to his desk. “Good - good morning sir. Would you like a coffee?” You ask. He nods, not even looking up from the screen of his computer. You exit the office without a word so you can get his coffee, coming back to softly set it down on his desk.

Coffee is a godsend. He can’t figure out how to use that new fucking machine in the break room. Too many knobs and buttons. When had coffee machines become so fucking difficult? You put coffee grounds in a filter and add water to a pot, turn it on. So right now, the hot, steaming cup of joe is a lifesaver. He moans happily after the first tentative sip, the scalding liquid providing an instant jolt of alertness. Setting it back down, he calls your name to summon you back into his office. Barely looking up when he sees the flash of movement where you come into the doorway. “I need the files on all the women in this building.” He tells you. “The computer doesn’t provide a picture.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his order, grateful he doesn’t see your reaction. “All - all the women? Why?” You ask, knowing the answer but you want to hear it. You can’t believe he doesn’t feel any recognition towards you but you suppose that justifies your reason for running out. 

“I need to find someone.” He tells you, still not looking up. 

“Yes sir. I’ll work on that now.” You say and walk out of his office, turning to look at him as he scrolls. You sigh, knowing he’d never want that woman if he knew she was you.

Javi sighs, leaning back and reaching up to toss off the drugstore reading glasses you had left on his desk one day. He uses them, even though he hates admitting it. He rubs his eyes, wondering why he is going through this, the woman ran away from him. Maybe it was the fact that she had left, that he had been the one to be left looking at where someone had been. Or maybe it was how unburdened he had felt in those minutes he was buried inside her. He just knows he wants to talk to her again.

You return a while later with his lunch and the files. Javi has the same thing for lunch every day: a couple of cigarettes and a cup of coffee. Sometimes he will stretch to a candy bar from the machine if he’s feeling particularly frustrated. Today is one of those days. You set the files down - conveniently missing yours - along with his lunch and you wonder why he’s trying so hard to find the woman - find you.

“Thanks.” Javi barely looks up, but he flashes you a grateful smile. “I’ll let you know if I need anything else, but you can knock off early.” He has no need for you to hang around when he’s planning on going through these files. Slight waste of government resources but he doesn’t care right now.

You frown slightly, unsure of if you feel relieved or peeved that he is completely dismissing you. Deciding to wallow at home, you accept his dismissal and quickly grab your things, leaving with a soft 'goodbye' to your boss. Once you're home, you sit and stare at the dress, hanging up on the back of your bedroom door and you are reluctant to put it away for surely then you know that last night was a dream, something that will never happen again.

She’s not there. Javi tosses the last file on the desk and huffs in anger. He’s gone through every single one of them, never finding the woman that he had met at the party. Unless she lied about working for the DEA, she wasn’t there. Standing up, he groans as joints pop, twisting his back and groaning in relief when it pops and there is some relief. He’s getting too fucking old for sitting all day. 

Walking out of his office to find the security badge of his secretary sitting on the desk, left behind by accident when you had left for the day. He picks it up, meaning to take it to your house since you will have a hell of a time getting in the building tomorrow without it. Looking down, his eyes narrow. “Son of a bitch.”

****

You are startled by the banging on your front door, grabbing your bat from under your bed, you slowly approach the door, looking through the peephole. When you see it's Javi, you lower the bat and place it in the hall, but you can't deny that you are terrified about why he's here. He knows, he has to know. You clear your throat, gathering your strength as you open the door to your boss. "Javi." You say politely as you keep your hand on the door frame.

His jaw is clenched, brows knitted together and he is pissed that you are greeting him so casually. The badge, the clear picture of you displayed on the front - without the glasses or the timid look on your face - is thrusted towards you. “You forgot this.” He spits it, wondering if you are going to tell the truth or keep playing him for a fucking fool.

“Oh. Th- thank you.” You take it, confused about why he’s so furious. He hasn’t said anything yet and you wonder why he’s so mad. Perhaps he’s disappointed that it’s you. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, jaw clenched and you nod, stepping aside to let him into your home.

Striding in, Javi looks around the small apartment, taking it in, and is surprised that it’s not as mousy as the facade you put on at work. It confuses him, how you seem so timid and unassuming while you have worked for him, only to trick him into fucking you against a wall at work. It was you, it had to be and he was furious that he had broken the one rule he had promised himself he wouldn’t. “Nice place.” He tells you shortly, turning around and looking at you after you close the door behind him.

You sigh, coming to the conclusion that he knows. "What gave it away?" You ask softly, leaning against your front door for support as you feel his dark eyes burn into you. "I figured - I thought it would take you longer to go through those reports and I - my file wasn't in there." You confess, crossing your arms.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He hisses, stepping closer with his fists clenched, angry that you’ve put him in this position. “You tricked me.” He knows that it’s technically not true, you didn’t lie to him, but he wouldn’t have touched you if he had known it was you. He has too much respect for you, not wanting to get tangled up in the mess of an office affair. Or damage your reputation. 

Your mouth opens and closes, tears stinging in your eyes at how furious he is. You wonder if he’d be so mad if he found out it was Karen from HR that he always eyes up. “I- I didn’t - I never - it wasn’t supposed to go that far. I just wanted a night out to be someone - to feel like someone different.” You admit, choking a little over your eyes as you see how clenched his jaw is.

“But it did go that far.” Javi reminds you before looking around your apartment again. “So who is the real you?” He demands. “The woman who lives with bold colors and flare and tricks her boss into fucking her? Or the mousy woman who brings my coffee?” He’s not being fair, he was a very willing participant in what happened, but he ignores that right now. 

You wince at his harsh words. “I- I guess - I guess I am both. To be the woman I was last night…I want that kind of confidence and the mask allowed me to be whoever I wanted to be. I just - I am not beautiful enough to get away with that much confidence in reality. You - men - want some sexy assistant to fetch their coffee and I didn’t want to be that cliché. I wanted to become a field agent but they didn’t think I had it in me so I ended up as a secretary. I have been overlooked my entire life and I wanted one night to be the woman that was wanted, instead of being overlooked because I’m not good enough, not beautiful enough.” You finish breathlessly.

Javi’s frown deepens, shaking his head at the bullshit that just came out of your mouth. “Why me?” He asks. “Or would anyone have worked?”

You shake your head, pushing off of the door to walk towards him. “No. No. I- God. No. That’s not - it has always been you. I’ve always wanted you since I started working for you.” You admit, flustered and wanting him to know you didn’t just want sex. “I didn’t go there to see you. I mean, I hoped you’d talk to me but I- I just wanted to have a good time and dance and - oh God. This is such a mess.” You shake your head.

He knows he’s going to regret it, he always does when he thinks with his cock but it doesn’t stop him from reaching for you. Dragging you towards him and covering your mouth with his own in a bruising, yet passionate kiss. He can’t deny that he wants you, especially since you are the woman who had captivated him after last night and he hasn’t stopped thinking about how it felt to be inside you. 

You are shocked for a moment, his mouth pressed against yours but you soon react, moving your lips with his and moaning into his mouth. Your hands tangle in his hair like you’ve always wanted to do and you press yourself against him, letting yourself enjoy this last moment before he likely pushes you away and fires you.

He hasn’t showered, shouldn’t be touching you, but he can’t help himself. His hands grabbing your ass and hauling you closer and sliding up under your shirt to caress your back. You aren’t wearing a bra, the larger sweaters and drab office dresses exchanged for a t-shirt and shorts that expose so much of your skin. His teeth bite down on your lower lip before his tongue slides into your mouth possessively. 

You groan when his tongue touches yours, your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you cling to him, letting him touch you however he wants. You know you should push him away, make him explain, but your need for him is far too great. This is the last time he will touch you like this, certain to end things after. You manage to untuck his shirt, sliding your hands under it to caress his back while his tongue tangles with yours.

Javi groans into your mouth, shuffling you back towards the couch that he had seen. He doesn’t know if can wait to get you back to your bedroom. Desperate to touch you again and see if your cunt was as tight as it had seemed last night. He kisses down your neck and grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling away to pull it up over your head and expose your breasts to the cool air of your apartment. 

“Oh God.” You gasp when his hands grab your tits after he tosses your shirt on the floor. You feel drunk on lust, unable to believe how good everything feels when he pinches your nipple. You scramble to unbutton his dress shirt, needing it off of him while he walks you back towards the sofa, his hands massaging your tits.

Your moans are driving him crazy, tits hot under his palms and he ducks his head down and takes one into his mouth. He shouldn’t be doing this, but the way your cry fills his ears is almost addictive. Biting down on the sensitive tip and sucking on it to soothe after your fingers tangle into his hair again, abandoning touching his chest after you strip his shirt off. 

“Fuck baby.” You whimper when he switches to the other breast. You stumble back and he follows you as you fall back onto your sectional, his body covering yours, and you feel how hard he is when his groin presses against your thigh. You move your leg, loving the groan he pushes into your flesh and you need more. “Javi. Baby. I- I need to see you.” You beg, wanting to see all of him.

Javi rears back, ripping at his belt just like he had last night. Kicking off his dress shoes and standing up so he can push off the pants, along with the underwear he had been wearing. You are laying on the couch, watching with hungry eyes that makes his hard cock twitch. “Fuck.” He hisses, “take off your shorts.” He orders you, unable to do two things at once.

You scramble to take off your shorts, pushing them down along with your panties. Last night, you’d both been fully dressed but now you can see every inch of each other. He’s gorgeous, muscular, and strong but with a small tummy that makes him even sexier, his eyes nearly black as they trail along your figure once you’ve tossed your shorts on the floor.

“Beautiful.” He promises, swallowing when you spread your legs and he can see the puffy lips of your cunt. “You claim you’re not beautiful, but I see a woman who hides it.” He slides his hands along your thighs as he kneels down on the sofa again, desperate to sink into you again, his lips starting at your breasts and kissing up as he moves into position. 

You scoff, “you say that as you’re about to fu- oh fuck.” Your retort dies on your lips as he pushes inside of you, his lips pressed against your jaw as he sinks deeper into your cunt and you hitch your thigh onto his hip, allowing him to sink even deeper.

He chuckles, enjoying the way that you cut yourself off to moan. His arms hold himself up over you but he ducks down and kisses your lips and then along your jaw. “When do I ever lie?” He asks you, to remind you of how blunt he can be with his other liaisons on what he is looking for. His hips push deeper and he grinds into you before he pulls out of you to push back inside with another groan, delighted to find you are as tight as he thought you were last night. 

You caress his back as he rocks into you, your heart thumping at his words and you force yourself to not read too much into it. “God, you feel so good baby.” You whimper, closing your eyes and tilting your head back to allow him more access to your neck.

He grunts, agreeing with you. You feel like a glove around him, making his eyes close every time you flutter those tight little walls around him. “Fuck.” He breathes against your skin. “Thought about this all night. How good you felt.” He confesses, nipping at your skin again. 

“That- that's why you wanted to find me? Because I’m tight?” You tease breathlessly, stomach clenched from how he’s hitting every spot inside of you with ease. “And you - you wanted to fuck me again.”

“Of course I wanted to fuck you again.” He huffs, lowering himself down to an elbow and presses himself closer. “And you are tight, but I wanted to talk to the sassy woman who captured my attention.” He admits, not sure of what he wanted to do when he found that woman, but wanting to see her again beyond fucking. 

“I’m not- I’m not always that woman.” You confess, looking into those dark eyes as he rocks into you, a moan escaping your lips when he hits something deep that makes your pussy soak him with another wave of arousal. “Because - oh God - because I’m not confident enough.”

“Shit.” He hisses, gritting his teeth at how wet you get. Making him rock into you just a bit harder. “You should be.” He pants out, biting your chin. “It’s sexy.” He has no problem with sassy women, enjoys them over someone who would just roll over for him. A strong woman is one to be admired. 

His words embolden you, making you smile, and you reach down to squeeze his ass, pushing him as he thrusts back into you. “Then I want you to make me cum.” You demand, needing it more than you need air.

Javi groans, reaching down for one of your thighs to press it back, folding it towards your body as he starts to fuck into you harder. Deep, measured thrusts so that he can bottom out inside of you with the loud slap of his hips against yours fill your living room and make your sofa squeak. 

“Oh fuck. Oh my fucking God.” You cry out when he gets a spot you’ve never even felt before. “Javi. Oh God. I’m gonna - I’m gonna -” A strangled cry escapes your lips as you cum, squirting onto his lower stomach and dripping down onto your - thankfully leather - sofa.

“Jesus - fuck.” Javi moans, panting out your name as his thrusts become frantic, unmeasured. Enjoying the way that your cunt sounds as he pushes into it. “Fuck baby.” He moans as he ruts into you once, twice more before he buries himself deep and cums. Grunting as he fills you again like he did last night.

You gasp at the way he cums inside of you again, your nails digging into his back until you smooth your palms over the skin to caress it. Your chest heaving from the pleasure that is now fading and your eyes are still closed as he stills above you. “Fuck that was - wow.” You breathe out, unable to believe how good you feel.

His forehead drops down to press against yours, panting quietly. “Fuck.” He breathes out, body relaxing at the extreme pleasure before he kisses your lips once more. After that, he starts to shift back, pulling out of you and rocking back to sit on the end of the sofa.

You can’t move, body warm and relaxed as you watch him kneel on the sofa. His cum is dripping out of you but you don’t care, too obsessed with the way he looks now that he’s glistening with sweat and his hair is all messy.

Javi leans back, wishing he had a cigarette. He could definitely use one after that. “Fuck.” He sighs, looking up at the ceiling and giving a small chuckle. He had been furious and now…he doesn’t know what he is except tired. He hasn’t slept in the past two days. His hand is on your knee, stroking it idly while he closes his eyes for just a second.

You watch him, wishing you could stay in this moment forever but eventually, you know you need to talk at some point. Talk and not yell. “You want a smoke?” You ask, remembering your stash in your kitchen for when you’re particularly stressed. You have never been an avid smoker but sometimes the occasion calls for it. He nods and you shift, legs shaking as you stand up, “I’ll go get them. They’re in my kitchen.”

Javi shifts, reaching for his pants and sliding back into them. Looking around again and wondering where to go from here. You are still his secretary and he doesn’t know what you want.

You come back a few moments later with the cigarettes and the lighter, searching for your glasses as you watch him light a smoke. “You want one?” He asks and you shake your head, pulling on your oversized t-shirt and panties. 

“I, uh, I know you don’t want to get involved so we can - we can forget this ever happened…if you want.” You fidget, watching him blow out the puff of smoke.

“It’s too late for that.” Javi tells you bluntly. “I’m still your boss and I know how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He sighs, blowing out another breath of the cigarette smoke. “It’s something I’m going to be hard pressed to forget.”

You swallow, part of you thrilled he won’t be able to forget, the other part terrified that he hates the very idea. You bite your lip, knowing you could never have him the way you want him but you could have a part of him. Anything is better than nothing when you’ve been wanting him for so long. You walk over to stand in front of him, the smoke from his cigarette curling up into the air. 

“Or we could continue doing it…having sex. No one has to know except us. I’ll be professional at work, business as usual, and after…you could come over here and fuck me however I want.” You could’ve said “how you want” to sweeten the deal but honestly, you’re sick of denying yourself to please others, it’s time you pleased yourself.

Javi lifts his brow, shocked you had proposed something like that. He had taken you for a relationship or just type of girl. “We could do that.” He tells you, nodding slightly. “I- if people find out about us, they will judge you.” He sighs. “I don’t want that for you.”

You shake your head, stepping closer to run your fingers through his hair. “No one will know. I can keep it a secret. I don’t - I don’t want to stop doing this.” You admit, “and I can make sure we aren’t caught. This remains between us.”

He looks over at you again. “Are you sure you want that?” He asks softly, knowing that most women wouldn’t be happy for that kind of arrangement. “I don’t want you to be unhappy with it, or me.” He flashes you a grin. “You might poison my coffee at the office.”

You chuckle, “no. I wouldn’t do that. I’m a big girl, I know what I’m getting into. I’m not - I’m not dating and I don’t care about chocolates and flowers and dates. I just want you in my bed.” You are truthful to some extent, knowing that this could hurt you but it’s worth the risk, he’s worth the risk.

“Okay.” Javi nods, watching you carefully to make sure you just aren’t saying that. When he’s satisfied, a yawn interrupts what he was about to say, suddenly ready to drop off to sleep now that his search was at an end. “I should go home.” He tells you reluctantly.

“Oh yeah. You must be tired. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You step away from him and walk towards your front door. You’re not expecting a goodnight kiss, but when he just walks out of your house after picking up his things and grunts out, “see you tomorrow,” you can’t help but sigh. Shutting the door, you walk back into your place and wonder if you’ve done the right thing. Can you keep your heart intact? After washing off, you get into bed and decide that you can stop yourself from getting hurt by remembering who he is…the infamous Javier Peña.

****

Javi leans back in his chair. He’s early, just like he has always been. You aren’t in yet, your desk chair empty and he wonders how you will act when you get there. Last night he had slept the best he had in months, thinking of you when he had closed his eyes.

You carry Javier’s coffee in one hand, the files he wants in the other and your purse slung over your shoulder as you rush down the hall. You’re running late since your alarm decided to reset itself overnight. You exhale shakily as you enter his office, wondering if he will be full of regret now but he offers you a stiff smile as you set his coffee and files down. “Sorry. My alarm didn’t go off.” You reveal, adjusting your purse now that your hands are empty.

His eyes run over your form, knowing how that body looks under the loose dress you are wearing. His cock twitches and he knows that you are so much more than you show everyone else. “It’s fine.” He tells you, nodding. “Go settle in and I’ll call you if I need you.” He tells you as he opens one of the files and picks up the glasses to slip on the end of his nose.

You nod, nearly tripping as you walk out of his office. Cursing yourself for thinking how handsome he is wearing those glasses instead of focusing on walking. You roll your eyes at yourself and sit down, manning the phone and typing those reports he’d given you yesterday. When the intercom buzzes a couple of hours later, you stand up and brush your dress down as you make your way into his office. “Yes sir?” You ask. “Can you get me those files on Santiago?” He asks and you nod, turning around to get them after you say “yes sir.”

It’s been hours since he’s seen you and you’re already a problem. The second you showed up in his doorway his cock started to harden. He had known this was going to happen, that he was going to want you right here. The idea of taking you on his desk was vastly appealing, letting you sit outside his office with his cum dripping out if you. Ten minutes later, you come back with the file and he stands up. “Close the door.”

You shiver at the command in his voice, obediently shutting the door behind you, and you make your way over to his desk. He doesn’t waste a moment, grabbing your waist to pull you close until his lips crash against yours, desperation and need apparent in his touch. You moan softly into the kiss, grabbing onto his dress shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

He’s not thinking about anything but bending you over his desk. “Turn around.” He pulls away and turns you himself, not giving you a chance to do so. “Driving me crazy in this fucking thing.” He huffs, kissing along your neck. “Want to see what you’re wearing underneath it.”

You gasp when he pulls your dress up to expose the lace panties. You need to do laundry and these are among your last pairs - the sexier kind you haven’t worn for a while because they aren’t comfortable. His groan of appreciation is worth it though and you wet the lace immediately, unable to believe he’s doing this but fuck you love it.

“Fuck, I knew it.” He groans again against your neck, hooking his fingers under your panties and pulling them down to your knees. “You’re dirty under that nice, mousy little facade.” He growls in your ear, kicking your legs apart and reaching for his belt buckle. “Fucking love that I get to know that. Gonna fuck your pussy full of my cum and you’re gonna sit it in while you answer the phone.”

You swear you nearly cum from just his words. A whine escaping your lips as his belt buckle clinks and you wiggle your ass. "Please. God, please. I need you to fuck me." You plead and gasp when he smacks your ass. "Yes. Javi. Please." You whine and hiss in relief when his cock slides between your ass cheeks.

“Fuck, you’re so eager.” He would chuckle, but he’s too busy biting back a groan as he feels how wet you are. Apparently you get turned on really easily or he affects you like this. “Be a good girl and take it.” He grunts as he pushes inside you.

You fall forward, his files beneath you as you take his cock like he orders. It's intoxicating, feeling his length fill you up in a way you've never felt before. It takes your breath away. Sex has never been this good. "Javi." You moan, fluttering your walls around his cock to get him to move.

“Shit.” He hisses, immediately rocking back to slam his hips forward and filling you again. “God, you feel good.” You bite your lip to keep from moaning and he appreciates that. “Gonna have to be quick.” He pants, reaching around you and starting to rub your clit frantically as he rocks into you.

"Oh fuck." You hiss, grinding back against him and when he hits just right after five or so thrusts, in combination with his fingers rubbing your clit, you climax. Gripping the edge of his desk and biting your lip hard to smother your squeal, you clamp down on his cock and shake as you cum.

It’s quick and dirty. He doesn’t have enough time for it to be anything else. Groaning when he feels you come apart around him. “Fuck yes.” He hisses quietly, grinding into you harder. “Gonna cum.”

"Cum for me." You plead quietly, loving the way his hips slam against your ass until he finds his own high, his hot cum painting your walls while he softly groans your name. You slump against his desk, reveling in the sensations surging through your body, and you close your eyes for a moment. "So good." You whisper, loving how intense the sex is.

Javi sighs and leans down to kiss the back of your neck before he pulls out of you. Slapping your ass before he tucks himself away and pulls your panties up while his cum is dripping out of you. “It was good.” He comments as he pulls your dress down over your ass. “Now you get to feel me for the rest of the day.”

You giggle, loving how cheeky he can be and you gather the strength to stand up straight. “I’ll get you your coffee with your cum sticking to my thighs.” You quip as you stand up, quickly pecking his lips. “I’ll head back to my desk, sir.” You offer him a soft smile then walk towards the door. 

He calls your name and you turn to look back at him. “Call me Javi, not sir when we - you know.” He rubs the back of his neck. 

“Yes si- Javi.” You correct yourself and slip out of his office, taking a seat to continue typing.

****

It continues on. Quickies over his desk, dragging you back to his house on occasions, but most often, he’s at your apartment after work. Fucking you in every conceivable position and on every surface. Even staying the night once on a Friday when he was too tired to drive home after spending hours between your thighs. Everything is going great, he’s even gotten comments on how he’s not as much of an asshole as before. The arrangement he has with you is perfect.

The arrangement Javi has with you is a nightmare. Every single time the man is between your thighs, all you want to do is tell him you're in love with him. Between quickies, he brings you coffee instead of you getting it for him. He buys you lunch and one time he even brought in a pair of his aviators because you told him you wouldn't mind a pair so he gave you a pair of his. 

He professes to be an uncaring asshole but you see a different side to him. Tonight, you decide you're going to end it. He doesn't love you and you know you're just gonna break your own heart eventually so you decide to end it. When the doorbell rings, you swallow nervously and open the door. Frowning when you see how distraught he looks. "Javi? What's wrong?" You ask.

Javi sighs in relief, even though he knew you would be home. Walking in with the weight of the world on his shoulders when you move back to let him in. “The mission that I authorized went south.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion. “Two agents are dead and the other is in surgery - and it’s not good.” He closes his eyes and feels useless. He’s half a world away and he can’t do a goddamn thing, but he is responsible.

You respond immediately, surging forward to wrap your arms around him. "I'm so sorry baby. Come on, you need to relax. I have whiskey and I'll run you a bath." You pull back to cup his cheeks, "this wasn't your fault. Shit - it is dangerous and the agents know that. You knew that. It's a risk, every mission is a risk, and you did what you thought was best. Now, sit down, lemme get you that drink and you can relax in the tub."

It’s stupid but he doesn’t want to be alone. He had thought about not even coming over, knowing he would be shit company but he needed you. He tells himself that it’s so he can fuck you and forget about his problems, but right now he’s not even thinking about that. A bath sounds amazing. He snags your arm as you turn to get him a drink, stopping you. “Will you- will you get in the bath with me?” He asks, wondering why he’s so shy about asking for you to take a bath with him when he knows your body like the back of his hand.

You nod, knowing it's best to not say a word as you reach out to caress his cheek, a move you wouldn't normally dare to do but it seemed right. He releases you and you quickly set about running the bath, putting plenty of bubble bath in it, before you work on getting his whiskey. "Here you go." You hand him the drink, “take a few minutes to relax then come meet me in the bathroom.” You want to light some candles, really create a relaxing atmosphere.

Javi feels better just being here, watching you as you rush around to help him. He leans back and takes a sip of the whiskey, closing his eyes as he replays the audio feed from the mission and his stomach drops again. He shouldn’t have let them go tonight. It takes a few minutes, but he gets up, groaning as he gets to his feet. The idea of getting drunk in the bath with you holds enormous appeal, and he shuffles towards the bathroom.

You test the water, making sure it's not too hot, and you turn to look at him as he enters your bathroom. "I bought this house because of the tub." You tell him, unsure of why you've told him that but the look in his eyes is haunted and makes you want to comfort him. You reach out to begin unbuttoning his shirt, working fast to strip him off. "Come on, get in." You order, taking the glass from his hand to hold it while he gets in the water.

He obeys your order without thought, getting into the tub with a groan of appreciation at the hot water. Cupping his cock and balls to protect them from the heat until he gets underwater and then he takes the glass from you. “Get in with me.” He nearly begs it, wanting you here with him, the physicality of touch is what he craves, even if he’s not even hard right now.

The look in his eyes has you immediately stripping off, patting his back to push him forward so you can get in behind him. He shifts and you sigh as you step in, settling behind him. You reach for him, pulling him back into your chest, your hands immediately running through his hair. "Relax." You order, loving the way his muscles stop tensing as he relaxes against you.

Leaning back against your shoulder, Javi sighs and closes his eyes. “I- I know it’s stupid.” He murmurs softly. “But I had hoped the guilt would go away, being out of the field.” He tries to focus on your touch, the way your fingers feel on his skin and in his hair. The soft press of your breasts against his back. “I just feel guilty for not being there. For leaving them alone to die without trying to save them.”

"I understand. Well, I haven't been in that environment so I don't understand, but I recognize how you are feeling. Javi, the job you did, the job they did...it's dangerous. You know that when you take up your post and it - the mission you authorized...it looked right on paper. You weren't there. There was nothing you could do. Nothing you could've done. I know you and you will beat yourself up but it wasn't your fault. Those agents knew the risk and you know how desperate you can get to get the bad guys." You caress his chest, cupping the water in your hands to wash his chest, feeling his heart thump beneath your touch.

He sighs, knowing what you are saying is true and he feels emotional about the fact that you are trying to comfort him. It’s been a long time since he’s opened up to someone but you know what he does. You see everything that crosses his desk and you are a damn smart woman. Should have been an agent yourself. “Very desperate.” He acknowledges that as the fact that it is.

"You need to relax. Get your mind off of things you cannot control." You murmur, kissing his neck as your nails scrape his nipples. The little sigh he releases makes you hum in approval and you slide your hand lower until you are wrapping your fingers around his cock - half hard - but you grip him and kiss along his neck.

He whispers your name, body reacting to your touch like you’ve learned he likes. He’s probably in over his head but he slides his hand down to cover yours. “You don’t- I didn’t-” He doesn’t know why he came here, but for the first time, it hadn’t been to fuck you. He just needed you and it scares him. “You don’t have to.” He murmurs weakly when you squeeze him.

"I want to. You need to relax. Stress isn't good for you." You don't move, allowing him to remove your hand if he wants but when he doesn't, you begin to pump him. His body practically melts into yours as you lazily pump his cock, wanting him to feel good after such a bad day. "You're so good, Javi. You think you're a bad man but you're not. You care so much about people and it shows every single day. You're good. You're funny, sarcastic but funny. You are furiously loyal and constantly smell like Marlboros and whiskey but it suits you. You are a good man and you can't keep beating yourself up for something that was out of your control. Relax baby. Let me take care of you." You know your words are way beyond those of fuck buddies but you mean every one. Your feelings that you thought could be contained are breaking free and that terrifies you.

It’s the first time he’s let you take control. Yes, he gave you pleasure, reminding himself that it was because you allowed him to touch you. He stayed in charge, breaking you down and making you cry out while he also chased his own release and burst of endorphins. This is the first time he’s given himself to you and it’s shockingly easy. His head rolls to the side and his lips graze your jaw as your hand slides up and down his cock, the water sloshing against the side of the tub and the precum spurting into the hot, fragrant water while all he can think about is how good you feel. “Fuck.” He groans. “So good to me.”

“That’s it baby.” You coo, kissing him softly on the cheek as he completely slumps against you. Groans escaping his lips and you hum in delight that he is finally relaxing. “Gonna make you feel good.” You promise, twisting your wrist just how he likes. You know his body as well as your own by now, swiping your thumb over the head when the foreskin is pushed down.

“Shit.” He hisses, bucking his hips up slightly to chase the feeling. Groaning when your hold on his chest tightens. “Don’t move, baby.” You whisper in his ear. “Let me take care of you.” His eyes close again and he throbs in your hand, never hearing those words in a way that felt anything more than sexual but it sounds like you want to care for him. Something he desperately needs right now.

You work his cock, caressing his chest and kissing along his neck as you listen to his breathy moans. His eyes close as he lets you work him closer to an orgasm. The hot water sloshes onto the floor but you don't care, wanting to make him feel good.

You don’t say another word, focusing on making him cum. You nibble on his ear, groaning at the way he moans your name. You twist your wrist just right and the whimper he lets out tells you he’s close. He grunts, hips bucking as he cums, cock twitching in your hand as you kiss along his neck, loving the way his chest heaves as he lets go of his demons for a moment.

It’s probably the hardest he’s cum in God only knows how long. His mind was completely blank except for the pleasure roaring through his veins, ears filled with white noise and shuddering through the aftershocks. He practically whimpers your name as he slumps back down against you again. “Holy shit.” He pants quietly, your hand stilling and the silence deafening except for his labored breaths.

You love how he melts against you again. You caress his chest, letting go of his softening cock to wash his chest. You kiss him over and over on the neck and jaw until you allow yourself to relax too. “You want me to-?” He rasps and you shake your head. 

“No. This wasn’t about me. It was about you.”

Javi bites his lip, unable to believe that you don’t want anything in return. Swallowing down the sudden emotions, he sighs and reaches up to cover your hand with his and squeeze it in thanks. “Thank you.”

You kiss his cheek and cup his jaw to turn your head so you can kiss his lips. He groans into the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and you're unhurried, lazily kissing him as you let him just enjoy being relaxed.

The two of you kiss until the water starts to cool, he feels the way that his toes are starting to prune up and he sighs. Pulling away, he nudges his nose against yours. “Can I stay tonight?” He asks, not wanting to go home to his empty place and keep himself company.

You’re surprised but you don’t let it show on your face as you look at him. “Are you - yes. You can stay.” You amend your response, not wanting to freak him out by overthinking it. You are soon out of the bath and dry, offering him a pair of sweatpants that you kept from your ex. “Sorry. This is all I have.” You fluster. “You want some water?” You ask, suddenly exhausted and ready for bed.

“No.” He shakes his head, ready to crash with the emotional upheaval of the day and actually feeling like he will be able to sleep. “I’ll just wear my underwear.” He tells you, not wanting to wear another man’s clothes. He reaches out and touches your arm. “Thank you.” He offers. “For everything.”

You nod, offering him a small smile before you head to the kitchen to get a water bottle for you both. Returning back to your bedroom, it is bizarre how comfortable he looks in your bedroom. Like he is always meant to be here. You push that thought aside and hand him the water then get into your bed. “Night Javi.” You say as you get under the covers after turning off the light. 

He pulls you back into his arms, curling around you. “Night hermosa.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder and you close your eyes, reminding yourself that he doesn’t feel the same way.

Crawling out of your bed at five in the morning was probably the hardest thing he’s done in a long time. He was careful to ease out of the bed, not wanting to disturb you so you could sleep until your alarm went off. He had slept like a baby, and felt refreshed despite what happened the day before. Closing the door to your house softly and smirking to himself as he makes his way to his car. He will have to make it up to you today, spread you out on his desk and have you for lunch.

When your alarm goes off, you expect to see Javi still asleep beside you but when you don’t, you know you will never truly have him. Not like you want. You’ve tried to convince yourself that sex is enough for you but you love him. You’re in love with him, every stupid detail like the annoying way he chomps on his food to the way he holds his cigarette. It’s impossible not to fall in love even more and you know that it will be your downfall. 

He doesn’t love you, doesn’t want you for more than sex, and you knew this going into the arrangement. It’s not his fault nor are you blaming him for how you feel. You can, however, handle it by deciding to take some time. You decide to hold back the tears and get the yellow pages to call the directory. You know who will help you out for a couple of weeks while you get your head together.

Javi frowns, the door to his office open as he waits to see you come rushing up. More than likely apologizing for being late although he never cares about that. The disposable cup of coffee he had picked up on his way into the office sits on your desk, waiting for you. His own already drunk and tossed into the wastebasket while he crushes out the second cigarette of the morning. After showering and changing, he had come straight to the office, starting the endless reports he needed to fill out about the botched arrest. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late Mr. Peña. I didn’t get the call until this morning.” The young man stumbles into his office. Javi narrows his eyes at the man, immediately demanding to know where you are. “She called out sick. I- I’m here for the rest of the week. I’m an intern down in the basement working with HR so it will be fun to have some experience with the higher ups. My name is Jason. I can get you a coffee. She said that you take it black.” He rambles and spins on his heel, leaving before Javi can say anything.

Sitting with his mouth open in shock, he slumps back in his chair. You hadn’t been sick when he left. Why did you call out? He snatches up the phone, punching in the numbers for your house and presses the receiver up to his ear and listens to the ringing on the other end. “Pick up, pick up!” He hisses angrily. 

Your phone rings and you know it’s him but you can’t answer. You need to detox yourself from Javier Peña. That night of the fundraiser was your chance to cleanse yourself of your feelings but he charmed you even more and got you into this mess. You need space and you need time to figure out your heart, to break it and mend it before you go back to work and end things for good.

By lunchtime, Javi is furious. He called you every half hour and you haven’t picked up. He doesn’t believe that you are sick, but he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. Pushing back angrily from his chair, he snatches up his coat and storms out of his office. “Go home.” He barks at Jason, making the man jump as he makes his way to the elevator, determined to go see if you will answer your door. 

You are sitting on your sofa, glass of wine in your hand, as you try to ignore the way your heart aches. Your phone hasn’t stopped ringing and he left several messages telling you to phone him. You ignore them all, trying to figure out what you’re gonna do next.

Sitting in front of your house, he doesn’t get out and immediately storms up to your door to beat on it. He knows you will just ignore it, like you have been ignoring your phone. He has to be calm, to try to understand why you had called out. Gripping the steering wheel, he looks over at the bags he had stopped and picked up, the soup and medicine a handy excuse for why he would be knocking on your door, given you had said you were sick. Although you both know you aren’t sick. Sighing, he reaches for the bags, and pushes the driver’s side door open to make his way to your door. 

When your doorbell rings, you freeze. Wondering who it could be - surely it’s not Javi, he would still be at work - you think it’s the mailman and make your way to your door. Eyes sore from crying your heart out, you don’t care as you open the door. “Javi?” You choke, clapping eyes on the very man you’ve been trying to get away from, to try and forget.

You look sick. Sick with heartache or worry. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, are swollen with tears still left un-shed and red rimmed from the ones you had spilt. Worrying has him stepping closer, brow furrowed and he’s reaching out for you. “What’s wrong?” He asks, cupping your cheek. “What happened?” 

You pull yourself away from his grip, knowing you’ll give in if you let him touch you. “You - you need to go, Javi.” You plead and he shakes his head, stepping closer to you again. 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” He insists and you choke on a sob. 

“Please. I’m trying- I’m trying to stop - we can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep sleeping with you.”

His hand falls back down to his side, eyes widening in shock and he’s stunned for a moment. The happiness and security that he had felt right here last night is gone, ripped away. He wants to ask why, what changed in the hours that he had left your bed and now. Swallowing, he drops the bag's hands from the take out bag he had brought you on the door knob of your front door. “Feel better.” He manages, turning on his heel and hurrying away from your door.

You are so frustrated, the emotions bubbling up inside of you and you can’t hold it back anymore. You can’t stop yourself as you scream at him while he makes his way to his truck. “I’m fucking in love with you!” You shout, eyes widening after a moment when you realize what you just screamed, covering your mouth.

He is two steps from his truck when he hears your screamed confession. Freezing and turning back to see you covering your mouth, wide eyed in horror. Gripping his keys tight enough that he swears he might cut himself. Breaking out into a run, headed straight for you as fast as he can. “What did you say?” He demands, reaching you and pushing you back into your house and against the wall, holding you by your arm. “What did you just say?” 

Your mouth opens and closes, unsure of what to say, shocked from your own confession and you’re certain that he hates you now. You swallow harshly and he squeezes your arm. “What did you fucking say?” He demands again and you close your eyes, unable to look at him and see any anger because you’ve broken the rules. 

“I’m in love with you.” You whisper, terrified of the imminent rejection.

“Fuck.” Javi lunges forward, kissing you with a kind of frantic desperation that shakes him to his core. Knowing that everything that he has been feeling and trying to ignore was exactly what you had just said. He’s in love with you too. Letting go of your arms and wrapping them around your back, crushing you against him while his tongue slides into your mouth. 

You are shocked by his reaction, certain that he was going to reject you, laugh in your face, and never speak to you again. The way his tongue caresses yours has you melting into him again. Your hands tangle in his hair to pull him even closer, your chest pressing into his.

Javi groans and he presses closer to you, breaking away from your mouth to start kissing along your jaw up to your ear. “Idiot.” He huffs, unable to believe that you would think that he doesn’t care about you. “I love you.” He murmurs. “Baby, I’ve been in love with you.” He confesses, finally able to see it for the truth that it is. He’s been in love with you.

You inhale sharply, unable to believe he wants you like that, that he loves you. “I- God. I was scared you’d hate me for loving you. I know - I know you don’t like entanglements and - oh God - baby, I love you. I - I need you.” You plead, wanting to feel him and you slide your hands under his shirt after tugging it out of his pants.

He smirks against your skin, sucking and nipping it with his teeth before he pulls back. “Yeah? Been ignoring me all day and now you need me?” He huffs, letting you continue to undress him. “Ruined my plans for today,” he grumbles. “Was gonna spread you out on my desk and have you for lunch.”

You giggle, almost high from him saying he loves you. You work on his belt next after he reluctantly lets you go so you can shove his button down off. “You can still do that. It’s lunch time.” You glance over at the clock on the wall, a grin that you can’t seem to wipe off of your face makes him wink at you and he grabs the back of your thighs, making you squeal.

Javi grunts, picking you up to carry you the few steps to your sofa and drops you down on it. “Take your fucking shorts off.” He growls, shoving down his pants and kicking them off.

You move fast, kicking your shorts and panties off, tossing them across the room and you have no idea how you don’t get used to seeing his body, his cock. He’s so beautiful and he takes your breath away every time. You inhale sharply and watch him, a smile on your lips after you quickly remove your shirt.

You look incredible, spread out. Javi takes a moment to just look at you, eyes softening from his normal dark gaze. Kneeling down and running his hands up your thighs. “I love you.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your knee and shuffling closer.

You gasp when he kisses along your thigh. “I love you too.” You whimper, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have him, this beautiful man loves you. When his breath hits your hot core, you fidget and he swings his arm over your stomach to keep you still.

It’s not that he’s never eaten pussy before, but he’s not gone down on you. Most of your encounters were just straight sex, he never even asked for a blow job. The hand job you gave him yesterday was the first time he hadn’t finished inside you. But right now he wants to do this. He looks up at you, dark eyes boring into yours as he flattens his tongue against your clit.

“Oh God.” You gasp, your entire body lighting up from his touch. “Javi.” You keep your eyes on his, feeling like you are the only woman in the world with the way he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “It’s - wow. It’s so good.” You pant softly.

His hands push your thighs apart, eager to get more access to your cunt. Wanting to hear you and make you feel like he had last night. His nose presses against your clit while his tongue curls up inside you, keeping his pace light because he’s in no hurry to make you cum.

You moan his name, bucking your hips up into his mouth to grind on his tongue but he won’t let you move too much. His nose pressed against your clit has you gasping for breath as he expertly works your cunt. The way his hands are caressing you combined with his eyes has your heart thumping. There is no doubt about how he feels about you.

He can’t believe that this is how far this has come. The woman who had captured his attention was his assistant, his assistant who he loves. Javi groans into you, squeezing your hips and focusing on the way your eyes flutter with every flick of his tongue inside you.

He’s slow, working you up with laps of his tongue and rubs of his nose. No frantic fucking, this is romantic and takes your breath away. It’s not long before he sends you over the edge, clamping down on his tongue with a moan of his name.

Grinning into your cunt, he works you through it until you are trembling and gasping his name, hand pushing at his head. Kissing along your inner thigh and up over your mound, he rests his chin on your pubic bone and sends you a lazy smile. “That’s what I wanted to do at the office today.” He murmurs, squeezing your hip again.

You smile, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “Would’ve been sexier on your desk.” You tease, watching him as he shifts to kneel between your legs and you drag him down on top of you, pressing your lips to his and uncaring of tasting yourself on his tongue. “Make love to me baby. I want you inside of me.”

“Make love to you.” Javi likes the way that it sounds. Curling an arm around your back to hold you close while he uses his hand to guide himself to your core. “I like that.” He presses his lips to yours and starts to push inside you. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You gasp when he pushes inside of you, making you cling to him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. You kiss along his neck, sighing his name as he starts to slowly move inside of you. “I’m so sorry for all of this mess.” You murmur, making him pull back to look at you.

“What do you mean?” He frowns, stopping his movements. 

“The fundraiser, pretending to be okay with just sex. I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

Closing his eyes, he leans forward and kisses your forehead and presses his win against yours. “It’s okay.” He promises you. “Things happened how they needed to. We don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

You smile, grateful he’s not mad at you, and you kiss his lips when he begins to move inside of you again. You roll your hips to meet him, slow and not in a rush. So unlike the other times you’ve been together. “It’s always so good.” You sigh, closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of him above you. The weight of the moment rests on you both but it’s not suffocating.

Grabbing your hand, he laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand while he slowly rocks into you. His lips press to yours again and again, keeping it light and not deepening it but the emotions are there. “So good baby.” He promises. “From the first time. Knew it from the first time I felt you around me.”

“As me, or as the woman at the fundraiser?” You tease, caressing his back with your free hand and you squeeze his other hand.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you. “Aren’t they the same?” He asks, grinding his hips a little deeper. “The mousy assistant is the act. The wild, wonton woman at the party is the real you. The one that only I get to see.”

You grin, realizing he truly knows you. “Yes. Only you get to see me. The real me. God, you bring the best out in me. I’m so - so wanton around you.” You hiss when his cock hits deep. “Fuck. Love you and love this cock. Makes me feel - feel so good.”

Javi chuckles and makes sure his next thrust is nice and deep, loving the way you clench around him. “Always want you to feel good. Love the way you feel when you cum, love you.” He picks up the pace. “Want you to cum now.”

The way he grinds into you, his pubic hair rubbing your clit and his cock pressing deep, it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. With a gasp, you clamp down on his length, soaking him with a soft cry of his name. The orgasm is slow, overtaking your entire body until you feel boneless beneath him.

“Yesss.” He hisses, loving the way that you shatter under him and he keeps grinding into you, chasing his own release. “Good girl, God you get so wet for me.” He’s suddenly stiffening, moaning your name as he fills you up.

You sigh in bliss at the way he fills you up, making your back arch beneath him and you kiss his jaw as he pants, relaxing above you. “Love you Javi.”

“I love you.” He pulls out of you gently and moves to the side, curling around you. Reaching up, he cups your cheek and kisses you again. “Janice in HR is going to be pissed.” He chuckles and kisses your nose. “Told her I wouldn’t fall in love with my assistant and I lied.”

You giggle, shifting to curl into him, caressing his neck and running your fingers through his hair. “She had a feeling it would happen? Or is your reputation that bad?” You joke, making him snort. 

“Probably both.” He retorts.

You sigh in contentment before you kiss his jaw. “We will figure it out. If I have to switch to another department or - or if I have to quit, we will figure it out. I don’t want your job to be in jeopardy.”

“It won’t be.” Javi promises, closing his eyes and sighing softly as he leans back. “I’ll make sure of it and I don’t want you to stop being my assistant. You- you’ve changed my life in so many small ways, I didn’t realize how much until you didn’t show up today. I hate Jason, by the way.”

You roll your eyes playfully at that, “he’s sweet. Just - he gets flustered. I’ll call him and tell him he can go back to the basement.” Javier chuckles at that. “As for you, I’m glad you finally started wearing those glasses. Your squinting was ridiculous.” You joke and it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Maybe that’s why you didn’t recognize me that night.” 

He shakes his head, “no. I just - I should’ve opened my eyes and seen you, my beautiful assistant.” He admits and you smile, kissing his cheek. 

“Well, I’m here now baby. Your mystery woman unveiled.” You tease and he caresses your side. 

“My very own Cinderella.” He grins, knowing that the night you walked into that fundraiser changed everything.

[claraswritings]

Conversation

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Reader

Warnings: spoilers for S1 and S2, miscommunication, (kind of) enemies to lovers, language, a few plot changes, mutual pining and one or two mentions of Jamie’s dad being a prick. Also I accidentally wrote something in this that is minorly similar to a scene in S3…but I wrote that bit AGES ago. Just signposting it as last time I didn’t someone got shitty with me

Notes: this is so much longer than I planned lmao so that explains why it took so long to post. Also not betad or spellchecked yet as it’s late here!

I don’t even know if I like this… I might delete this…

Title inspired by Conversation by Catfish and the Bottlemen

**

You’d been the player liaison officer at AFC Richmond for two years and for the most part, you loved your job. A lot of it involved what was referred to as “general life admin” for the players, as you sorted out everything from banks to home viewings to car collections to visas to schools for players with kids.

Most people would think looking out for a bunch of millionaire footballers would be a stressful job but you didn’t mind. The players had, for the most part, always been nice and you’d even started helping to show the new signings around, offering to recommend them restaurants or bars and you’d even become friendly with a few of them over the course of your time at the club.

Or at least until you encountered the clubs new loan signing. It had taken four weeks of his season long loan before you’d first spoken to him, and from the ten minutes he’d spent in your office, you’d gotten the same impression everyone did of him.

Jamie Tartt was undoubtedly the one of the biggest pricks you’d ever met .

Twenty minutes later than agreed, he’d sauntered in to your office, moaning about his teammates, discard the print offs of flats and houses you’d spent ages looking into for him, grabbed a card with the requested time and date of a collection of an Aston Martin you’d arranged for him without so much as a thank you, before asking if you could fix a modelling gig for him. With your arms folded across your chest, you’d firmly told him that was you were player liaison and not PR and that there was no way you’d be arranging his shirtless photoshoots or his latest perfume ad and he’d left with a comment about your job being “pointless” leaving your door wide open.

***

The next time you spoke to him was when he’d let a door swing in your face, as he stormed through the car park still furious after the loss to Crystal Palace. You held back from walking out as you could over hear him rant to the reporter from the Independent about…everything. An exclusive straight from the car park, Jamie Tartt was a journalists dream.

“Hey.” You caught up to him in the car park, “Talking to the press? Really?”

“Do I know you?” Jamie stared at you with a blank expression “Are you a fan? How did you get in here? You want a picture or something?”

“A fan? Of you? No. I work for the club. I’m the one that arranged your car, your flat, your VIP booth at the bar you’re off to. Most people say you’re welcome by the way.” You waved an arm in the direction of his sports car.

“Right.” Jamie continued to stare at you like you’d grown a second head before shrugging “Did you need something?”

Un-fucking-believable. In that moment, you’d never disliked him more.

You considered telling him how stupid it was to run his mouth off to the press, how much it would hurt his teammates, his manager, the fans to hear their star player dragging the club down but as you watched him chew his gum so casually, you realised he didn’t care and it was too late, and it was probably too late. Trent Crimm was already heading back to his car, statement no doubt being composed and ready for the morning papers but it was doubtful Jamie even registered anything other than himself and his massive ego. How could you possibly expect him to care about anyone else.

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter. Don’t think you’d understand it. Have a nice night.” You turned on your heel and were safe inside your own car before you finished the sentence “Prick.”

***

Ever since your little argument in the car park, you’d made it your absolute resolution to keep your contact with him to the bare minimum until the end of his loan when he’d become whatever poor player liaison officer Man City had.

You managed this pretty effectively being that he’d decided not to train until you’d received a call from your boss late into the evening one night asking you to come by the training ground. Usually a call in the evening was one of the new players wants a dinner reservation and didn’t know where to book or occasionally ordering a cab when one of the players had forgotten what hotel they were staying in the night before a game.

You absolutely not been expecting it to be ‘please can you swing by Colins and get his spare car keys…’ Nonetheless you’d agreed.

The scene unfolding before you when arrived the training ground was like something out of a fever dream. The players celebrating on the training pitch, a burning bin obviously a major part of whatever bonding exercise Coach Lasso had come up with. A scan of the field resulted no sign of Colin. You could see Dani Rojas, running around with Bumbercatch and Richard as if he hadn’t just been in the treatment room a mere 24 hours ago and Issac downing the last of a bottle of Mezcal back and forth with Richard whilst Ted and Beard watched on, laughing as Zoreaux choked on a swig of the liquor.

Nearest you and staring into the fire, beer bottle in hand, was the last person you wanted to see. Jamie Tartt. Of course it was. It would be so typical of your luck that it would be.

“Colin about?” You resolved yourself to asking him, wiggling your hand as the spare key jangled between your fingers. “Got to give him these.”

“Inside.” Jamie nodded “He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Humming in acknowledgment, your eyes fell to the flaming bin and curiosity got the better of you and you had to ask “Do I want to ask how he lost his keys?”

“Burnt them in that.” Jamie gestured at the flames he was staring at. When you didn’t reply, his eyes found their way to yours and he explained the whole process.

“Oh.” You were surprised. “I didn’t think team bonding would have been your thing.”

Jamie hesitated. He couldn’t argue. You were right, he hadn’t been much of a team player

“I wasn’t gonna but…thought maybe I should show my face” he shrugged, hoping you wouldn’t question his bravado. He pointed at the fire. “Do you wanna throw something in? Everyone else has.”

“I think it’s already worked…” you gestured with your arm at the field. “but yeah why not?”

You thought for a moment… you hadn’t brought anything except your phone and your own keys which… you didn’t fancy throwing in. Unlike Colin you’d have to walk home and get your spare set and walk back to the car park, which wasn’t particularly appealing in the dark.

Suddenly an idea struck you, you unclipped your necklace and extended out your hand, letting it slip, dangling in your fingertips for a few seconds before dropping it. “Hopefully this helps with the luck.”

“You don’t need luck if I’m playing.” Jame replied, a smirk on his lips. You held off rolling your eyes at his cockiness. Sometimes you really didn’t get him. Mere seconds before you’d been having a semblance of a civil conversation and then he was right back to arrogant arsehole.

“What is it?” He questioned. It had to be the first time he’d asked you anything about yourself.

“Necklace. It was my nan’s… she…died when I was 15.”

“Oh shit sorry.” It was probably the most sincere you’d ever heard him. If it had came out of anyone else’s mouth, you might have bought it as genuine. “Wasnt like anything bad, was it?”

“It was a long time ago, she was sick for a long time and…” you stopped yourself suddenly aware that this was Jamie Tartt you were talking to and any minute now, he’d probably resume his usual self centred personality. “Sorry, long story short, she passed away a while ago but… I don’t think she’d mind. Grandad was a Richmond fan.”

“What did you…put in?” you asked, swiftly changing the subject. You were half expecting the answer to be his little black book of desperate instagram girls or some signed picture of himself from one of his many magazine photoshoots. It would after all be completely on-brand for him.

“Erm…football boots, ones my mum got me. She got me into playing…” he said it trying to be casual and keep his cool. “She just wants me to enjoy playing yeah? So good motivation and that”

“I’m sure she’d be really happy for you, Jamie.” You looked over to where Colin was remerging back from the building looking extremely relived to see you. “I have to go give these to Colin. It’s why I was called out here in the first place. Have a good night.”

Truth be told, you were a little skeptical. Of both the ritual and of Jamie showing an interest in anyone else other than himself but you figured if the whole team had given the ritual a chance, maybe just maybe, Jamie Tartt had developed the capacity to care about other people.

You found out the next morning that he was on his way back to Man City when you’d received an email from his agent asking you to arrange termination of his house rental agreement

***short time skip***

When your doorbell had gone off late into Saturday afternoon a few weeks later, Jamie Tartt had been the last person you expected to see.

“Richmond said you had the stuff from my locker.” He said, leaning instantly on the door frame as soon as you answered without so much as a hello. “Said you was going to send it to the guy who does whatever it is you do at City but I called Issac, Jeff and Keeley and they’re all busy so thought come get it. Nothing better to do.”

A house visit hadn’t been on the agenda but you figured it was marginally less awkward than him swinging by the training ground so you’d taken it and had been talking to the player liaison officer at City making arrangements to send it up.

“Well I’m flattered to be your fourth choice. Coincidentally probably your first words to Pep.” You couldn’t resist the dig. Ever since he’d left, Richmond had struggled but being that he was now Man City’s problem you didn’t have to mince your words.

“Yeah well, I’ll be first choice soon. Scored today didn’t I…,” he clicked his tongue and gestured at himself. “Best goal of the match as well.”

“Wouldn’t know. I was watching Richmond.” You folded one arm over the other. A part of you enjoyed the flicker of surprise that crossed his face, but you gave him a tight smile as a somewhat attempt to be civil.

“Heard old man Roy scored yesterday. Must have taken it out of him.” Jamie rested back on the heels of his expensive trainers “Bet he’s gonna be in that ice bath for hours.”

You ignored the dig at the Richmond captain “Had the game of his life actually…like someone turned back the clock. Heard from Sam that Nate had some real words of wisdom.”

“Nate? Nathan? The kitman?” Jamie’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you in shock. “We thinking of the same guy? Him!?”

You laughed, knowing that the idea of Nate who always seemed so unassuming and quiet giving Roy Kent, footballing legend, a piece of his mind was crazy. If you’d heard it from anyone other than Sam, you’d probably have thought it was an elaborate joke.

“Apparently so.”

“Fucking hell.” His eyebrows shot up “Kinda wish I’d seen the old man’s reaction.”

“Yeah well…you weren’t…I’ll get your stuff. Probably a bit weird for you…being at a woman’s door when you haven’t slept with her.” You tapped on the door and grimaced. You knew the team would miss Jamie for his ability on the pitch.

Jamie shrugged, before he was distracted by his reflection in the window. He adjusted a stray hair then slowly turned back as of pulling his gaze away from himself was particularly tough “You would though wouldn’t you?”

A singular laugh left your throat coming out harshly. “No. Nothing personal…Zoolander” you paused as you realised that wasn’t completely honest. “Well its a little personal…but…I don’t date footballers. Went out with one once. Played for another club. Was at my friends for a weekend. He slept with six other women in two days.”

Jamie pursed his lips and let out a low whistle almost like he was impressed.

“What’s that…Rookie numbers for you?” You called over your shoulder as you stepped to the side of the door to pick up the box that had been sitting in your hallway for the past week and a half.

“Nah…even I’m not that bad” He clicked his tongue and winked “Most of the time.”

“How lovely.” You deadpanned turning back to him. “Suppose you slow down once you run out of every woman in SW16?”

Jamie looked you up and down “You always like this? All Cruella DeVille and that”

Ignoring his playground like insult, you moved one hand back to the door handle, the box balanced on your hip with the other. You were hoping you’d be able to close the door quickly and force him to go off elsewhere. “You left my club, I’m allowed to be a little mean to you.”

“Lasso sent me back. Said he didn’t need me but obviously he does though cause you were losing until today” A cocky smirk on his face, he pointed at himself “Could have used me in those other games.”

“What?” You frowned, eyebrows knotting in the centre. “What are you on about?… of course we needed you. You’re a fucking twat but you’re good. Why wouldn’t he want you in the team” You didn’t like paying him a compliment but you felt it was the only way to get a reasonable conversation out of him

Jamie almost rolled his eyes and you were unsure if it was because he thought you were stating the obvious or saying something stupid.

Noticing Jamie’s childish reaction, you called him out.

“Ted’s a really nice guy, you know. Maybe cut him a little slack?”

Ted had always been friendly to you. Giving you a good morning when he arrived and a good evening with a bright smile when he left and even talking to you about favourite books when he’d brought ones in for the team. If you offered help with setting things up, he would always tell you not to worry and he’d sort anything out himself… More often than not he was back at your office with 15minutes talking a lot about how different things were to Kansas and asking for help.

Despite being new to the sport, never mind the Premier League, Ted was at least trying. It somewhat bothered you that Jamie seemed so intent on being disrespectful.

“Knows fuck all about football though.”

“And you know fuck all about how to talk to people. Maybe you could have learnt from each other.” You snapped back before you could stop yourself. “Just an idea. It’s how adults talk.”

Feeling the exasperation levels rise and wondering how you’d even gotten this far into a conversation with him, you tossed the box of his stuff in to his arms and he managed to steady it despite being caught slightly off guard.

“Goodbye Jamie. See you next season”

And with that you slammed the door shut forcibly before he could reply.

*** time skip***

“I’m just going to get a drink, you want one?”

You offered to your friend and her boyfriend, as you slid out of your booth. Truth be told, you didn’t need another drink, you just wanted to escape for a few moments and work out if it had been this loud when you were a Uni student or if you’d just become accustomed to pubs over clubs in the years since you’d left.

With the team settled into the season, and the new signings all set up, you decided to take a week off to go visit some old friends in Manchester and against your better judgement you’d been dragged to a bar by your friend and her boyfriend.

In response your friend waved her half full, bright blue cocktail, letting you know she was good for now and you made your way across the dance floor and up to the bar, ordering the strongest cocktail on the menu not paying much attention to what was in it.

You’d only just picked up your drink when you heard it. The familiar voice causing you to whip around so quickly that you were impressed you didn’t spill anything.

“[Name]? That you?”

“Jamie Tartt.” You replied, as you took a long drink of the freshly replenished cocktail “Nice to see you.”

You were, of course, being sarcastic. You didn’t try to hide it this time. You didn’t have to. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been assisting in the game that sent Richmond down. Well… that and when your friends had sent you numerous clips of him making an arse out himself on Lust Conquers All and asking you if he really was that much of a twat in real life, to which you’d reply no, he was actually a bigger twat.

“How come you’re in Manchester?” He asked, catching you off guard. Jamie had never cared about seeing you, let alone it being ‘good to’ and now here he was making small talk like you were old friends.

“I’m visiting friends from when I lived here.” You told him keeping your answer short “Look if you want someone to sort out some private booth for you, firstly I’m on holiday and secondly I work for Richmond…you don’t…so…” you paused and gazed around the busy bar, looking for someone to pass Jamie on to “ask the barman.”

“You lived in Manchester?” Jamie tilted his head, genuine surprise crossed his features, as if you’d been withholding some crucial information. “I’m from here.”

“I know you are…“ you took another long drink, feeling like you’d need it if you were about to have another frustrating conversation as your patience was slowly slipping away. He’d completely ignored your previous statement and carried on with the small talk he’d never shown any need for before “What do you need Jamie?”

Jamie looked stunned. “I didn’t know you lived in Manchester. How come you never said?” He replied with a question in response.

“It’s a big city Jamie. You never asked me about myself, surprised you even remembered my name. You don’t need to feign interest in me. Just tell me what you want.” Patience now completely gone and just keen for him to get to the point, you downed the last of your drink and turned to place it back on the bar, only just missing the slight look of guilt he gave you.

“I just, um,” Jamie hesitated, unsure as to how to start, he bit his lip. There was no way he could just come out with it.

He’d tried Keeley but she’d told him to talk to Ted which… he really didn’t want to do. He knew he’d have to eventually but he didn’t want to have to ask especially after how they’d left things in person. Jamie knew from the tiny army man and note that Ted held no resentment but approaching him was a completely different ask so he’d headed back to his mums in Manchester first to weigh up his options.

He considered messaging one of the team but knew after his assist to send Richmond down, they likely would not want to speak to him…so he went through the staff- Kitman Will was a no go, Nate an even bigger no, he didn’t even think he had his number. Jamie went through a few of the back room staff before the thought of you crossed his mind and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner.

You fixed everything. Player needed a mechanic, you had one around within an hour, one of the coaches needed a caterer, you could arrange it, any player needed schools for their kids, you had uniforms by the end of the day. It was, at least to Jamie, like you could fix any problem…so hoping you could fix his big one, he looked you up on instagram and seeing that you’d posted only two hours ago, he clicked to view.

You were laughing and clinking glasses with another girl and a guy and had placed a tag in the corner indicating what bar you were in. Jamie could barely believe his luck when he clicked on it; as if by chance, as if this was confirmation that he had to talk to you, the tag showed as a bar only fifteen minutes away. He’d left within five. He didn’t know why you were here in his home city but to Jamie it felt like a sign so he’d threw on a coat and headed out to find you.

“It’s nice to see you Jamie but if you’ve got nothing to say, I really need to get back to my friend.” It was a small lie, you could not have cared less about running into him.

“Wait.” He protested, reaching for your arm before pulling back, barely grazing you. “Can we have a drink or something?”

“I’m not a waitress Jamie. If you want a drink, you’ll have to get one yourself like a big boy.”

From the vacant expression that had taken over, he clearly no idea what you were talking about and was waiting for you to fill in the blanks.

“It was a joke. At the charity event, you gave me twenty quid and told me to get you a drink. I told you I wasn’t a waitress and you said ‘same thing’… then I took the £20 and used it for my taxi home… you obviously don’t remember.”

Jamie felt discomfort twist in his chest as he averted his eyes to the ground for a few seconds. Had he really said that? You said it so casually like it was normal.

“Look…please can I just talk you? I’ll…pay for your drinks.” He attempted a peace offering, only for you to wince.

“I can get my own drinks.” You stated bluntly, with a half hearted smile. “I’ll see you later, I’d say good luck for this season but Caths a United fan”

“I’m sorry…uh, I fucked it alright? I don’t…City don’t want me back.” Jamie slid in front of you quickly to try slow your move to the table down. “And I didn’t win Lust Conquers All…”

“I’m sorry to hear you didn’t win your show. Maybe there’s another you can rate strippers on or something.”

“It’s all I’m actually any good at.” His voice was far more subdued, far more quiet than you’d heard him before so much so you would have missed it if it wasn’t said in a seconds pause between songs.

“Rating strippers?” You made a joke, lips twisting up as you raised an eyebrow. However Jamie in response still looked deadly serious, so much so that something inside made your resolve falter. It was not like Jamie Tartt to be remotely serious.

You sighed, eyes skimming over the room to your friend, who was trying to wave you over with a questioning look on her face. Holding up a few fingers, you indicated to her you’d only be two minutes. She shrugged and went back to whatever conversation she was having with her boyfriend.

“Please.” He asked once more and you knew would kick yourself if this turned out to be an act. “I swear down I’m being serious”

You glanced back at Jamie who looked so utterly defeated, in a way you’d never seen him. He looked a million miles away from that cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen last time.

“Fine. We can talk but… outside…” you threw your hand up and jerked your thumb at the door. “I’ll meet you out there. I need to let my friend know I’m leaving.”

**

The cold air hit you suddenly as you stepped out of the busy bar, squeezing by a hen do and heading down the stairs. Jamie was already waiting outside, shifting from one foot to the other, looking even more on edge that he had done inside. Having seen his adverts, you knew he was not that good of an actor, whatever was going on it had to be at least a little bit real.

“Alright. I’m all ears.” You stated as you reached the bottom.

Jamie found himself talking and talking to you as you walked through the city without any real direction. You asked the occasional question but besides that you were mostly just listening. He was stalling, putting off asking you for help by just relaying the drama between leaving City and being voted off the show. You could tell there was something else. There was no way he’d drag you, someone he barely knew, barely liked, out into the city streets to question the voting public for picking some guy called Danthony over him.

“They offered me a reality show…when I got kicked off but I’d have to do ecstasy and shit and…” Jamie trailed off, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his designer puffer jacket. “Didn’t want that.”

“Drugs too far?” You joked, not wanting to show that you were actually pleasantly surprised that he had a limit as to what he’d do for fame. His eyes caught yours and he shook his head.

There was a beat, a few seconds of only the city sounds, you spoke again, your voice and your eyes more sympathetic this time. “I’m glad you didn’t take it. It would be a waste of your actual talent if you did. You’re way too good at football to piss it all away for some shit show…Why did you leave City anyway? Thought you had it all worked out? And be honest with me, I’m not thick, I’ll know.”

Jamie caught your eye, your gaze on him was questioning, but not in the demanding, scrutinising way he was so used to. You were looking at him in such a way, If you didn’t hate him, Jamie could almost convince himself you were asking because you cared. The slight softening of your look on him made him drop what was remaining of his facade and tell you the truth. “I thought it’d piss off my dad.”

“Ah,” the sound was small, “Is your dad…?”

“A prick?” Jamie stated bluntly before you could finish “Yeah. On me all the time, over everything. Always has been. Always got something to fucking say. Got sick of it. I know it’s stupid but…”

“It’s not stupid…well it was a stupid thing to do…” you pulled your coat tighter against the wind. “but you’re not stupid. I understand. I think most people would. I’m sorry your dads an arsehole.”

“Thanks” He commented with a tight face as you rounded the corner. “But I’m used to it”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

You stopped as he could see your hotel lit up ahead on the street you were now walking down and somehow you’d ended up back where you were staying and you felt a little bit sorry to leave him. A small, tiny part of you thought about inviting him up and offering to continue the conversation but this was Jamie and you had a feeling he would definitely get the wrong idea.

“Erm… this… this is me.” You tilted your head up ahead at the hotel door “Thank you for walking me back Jamie. Even if you didn’t mean to.”

“Do you think Richmond would have me back?” Jamie asked quickly, fearing he’d lose his chance at getting out what had been lingering on his mind since he’d walked out of the meeting with his agent. “I could really really use Richmond now. And I think Richmond need me?” He gave you a tweak of a smile, more hopeful than arrogant.

Ah of course. That was it. He did need something after all. Despite this, you didn’t feel any resentment, you actually felt a little bit bad for him. Jamie had been a first class twat but he also seemed to be genuinely trying to reach out.

You gave him an apologetic smile. “Look, I wish I could help but…you’ll have to talk to Ted. I don’t have any say it in. I can give him a heads up but at the end of the day, he’s the manager, Jamie.”

“Yeah. Keeley said the same thing.” He looked dejected, reluctant even. “Don’t know why I thought you’d say anything else.” He dragged one of his expensive trainers against the concrete pavement and you winced at thinking how they probably cost a substantial chunk of your wages.

“I’m not surprised. She’s smart, makes me wonder why she went out with you.” You took the opportunity to lightly tease him although kept your tone completely deadpan.

“Oi come on! I’m being nice!” Jamie’s head shot up, ready to protest until he could see you were smiling and his shoulders loosened.

“I know I’m messing with you.” You replied “but seriously Talk to Ted. He’s usually at The Crown and Anchor. He’s a nice guy, Jamie. Give him a chance.”

“Fine. Thanks.” Jamie shrugged, looking like he’d rather do anything else. “If it works, can I have my old house back?”

“I’ll sort something…Goodnight Jamie.”You reached over and squeezed his arm “and good luck.”

***

Jamie’s reintegration was not going as smoothly as he’d hoped. With the rest of the team being somewhat reluctant to forgive his attitude from his last spell in at the club, Jamie was now getting the cold shoulder.

“Shit!” You jumped when you walked into you office. “How long have you been here? How did you get in?”

“No one likes me.” Jamie muttered from the spare chair opposite your desk. He didn’t answer your question but from the lost look on his face you didn’t feel like pushing it. He was slouched so far over your desk, he was practically lying on it, training jacket pulled up over his face and his chin in his hand

“Can’t say I blame them. You were kind of an arsehole last time you were here.” You placed your bag on the spot on the desk not occupied by Jamie.

“But like I’m actually trying and they’re… are all being dickheads about it.” He sat up suddenly, throwing his arms back as he slumped back into the chair.

“Again I don’t blame them.”

“Colin said I was the worm now.”

You cocked your head confused “I’m not going to ask…but I probably don’t blame him”

“Even the new lads giving me stick”

“Yeah, word travels, you’re… kinda infamous here now”

“Yeah I know…” Jamie clicked his tongue as if you were stating the obvious “but why do they hate me… when I’m trying?” He held out his hands and looked over at you, waiting for your clarification.

“Jamie. You got us relegated, you were a bad team mate and a bit of a shit…”

“Alright, alright.” Jamie shrugged “just you’re the only one whose nice to me…except maybe Ted but he don’t count he’s nice to everyone and Keeley but she’s my ex ain’t she? How can I make them like me? Get them all something?”

“It’ll take time Jamie… you can’t just make it up to them with gifts…”

Deciding you had to do to something to distract him, you lifted your bag up from the desk again and gestured for him to stand up which he did so reluctantly.

“Right okay, get your keys…I’m not having you moping around my office…let’s go for a walk or a drive or whatever and talk. It’ll help. I promise”

**

It quickly became a regular, daily thing. Jamie would come to your office as soon as the on field training was done. The rest of the team would head into the gym and he’d come wait in your office or out for coffee until most of the others had left and then he’d slip down to the gym to train alone.

You’d were slowly softening to him. He’d even started opening up a bit more, slowly elaborating day by day until he was talking more openly to you than you’d ever thought. Underneath all the cocky bravado, Jamie was a sweet, funny, guy who’d just fallen into the trap of thinking arrogance was a shield against anything the world could throw at him. You liked this side of him far far more and you couldn’t help yourself but think if he’d always been like this, like he was now, you’d have been friends a long time ago.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing when Jamie told you about Ted’s alter ego act. Even more so that he was completely straight faced when relaying how weird it was. You could guess what Ted was doing, but Jamie seemed so serious he had you in stitches.

“Oh and I, erm, I spoke to the, the therapist lady…Doctor Sharon.” Jamie slipped in quickly, before he could change his mind over telling you. His eyes quickly shot over your shoulder to the aerial photograph of Nelson Road that decorated the wall behind your desk and focused hard on it as he waited for your response.

Jamie had no reason to doubt you’d be supportive but still he could have sworn the few seconds it took for you to reply was actually an hour. He worried in those few seconds that he’d overstepped the mark and made you uncomfortable with an over share or that you’d kick him out.

You couldn’t believed Jamie had just spent fifteen minutes ranting about ‘Led Tasso’ and completely neglected to mention that he’d spoken to the new therapist.

“Jamie…why didn’t you tell me!” You exclaimed, nearly knocking over the Richmond mug on your desk over your laptop. “That’s great!”

“Dunno” Jamie managed to drop his stare from the wall to you and shrugged “I erm, didn’t think it was worth mentioning. Keeley dragged me up there and I thought might aswell. Nothing better do to.”

“Course its worth mentioning. Getting help is the best thing you can do… it’s hard to take that first step and reach out. I’m proud of you.”

“Really?” For a second Jamie wondered if he’d hallucinated. He hadn’t heard that. Not those words in that order from anyone in a long time and Jamie liked the thought of you, of all people, being proud of him.

“Yeah! Going…and actually talking to a professional? That’s amazing! Did it help?”

Jamie let your response sink in before he nodded “Uh yeah I think so, spoke to her about like my dad and stuff. She’s really good.” He scratched his cheek quickly before dropping his hands to the table.

“It’s great, everything you’re doing. It’ll take time… but I’m just so happy you’re reaching out.” You leant over the desk and placed your hand over his and gave it a squeeze “you know you’ve always got me but talking to a professional is the best thing for you.” The second you’d retracted Jamie missed the reassurance provided by the warm contact.

“Knock knock” a voice called from the doorframe interrupting and Jamie felt his heart drop as one of his teammates stuck his head around “Hello!”

“Jan! Hi!” You beamed at him, getting up from your desk as Jamie tried not to let his disappointment show at the interruption. “Come in!”

“You ready? You’re always packed up early and ready to go so I thought I would come see” Jan slipped around the door and raised his eyebrows staring at your desk which, as he’d guessed, was already pretty much clear for the day. “Usually in the last hour you don’t do any work.”

You rolled your eyes at his assessment but didn’t protest. You very rarely got anything done in the last hour so tended to scroll on your phone, clear up and wait until you could leave.

“Alright?” Jamie attempted to greet the other man “Is anyone down in the gym, mate?”

Jan shook his head no, not conversing with the other man any more than needed and waited for Jamie to stand up and make his way to the door, stepping aside to let him leave.

“Um, thanks [Name], I’ll see you later yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll come see you later.” You offered “We can go to that restaurant for dinner. The Indian one I was telling you about the other day?”

Jamie nodded and shut the door quickly suddenly all too aware of his teammate watching him.

***

“Why are you friends with him?” Jan asked pointedly as you left the room a few minutes later and made your way to the car park.

“Jamie’s really trying. Trust me last season he would not have even acknowledged me” you laughed and pointed at yourself.

“I don’t like him.” Jan said, looking like you’d posed some sort of serious question before he offered you a sweet from the bag he was holding out “Left you the red ones.” He glanced back into the bag “Well most of them!”

“Be nice!” You jokingly punched his arm before thanking him for leaving your favourites “Jamie’s trying not be a twat…but It’s hard for him. He’s had years of practice.”

Jamie watched you’d leave with the centre back from the open gym door. From your hushed voice, you were doing your best to keep quiet so he wouldn’t overhear but the ‘he wouldn’t have acknowledged me’ stung. Deep down he knew it was true, he hadn’t been nice to you, and you were understandably cold to him.

He’d find himself worried, wondering if you were with Jan, what if you no longer had time for him, what if he lost the one real friend he had. Although if Jamie was honest with himself, he’d liked you as more than a friend for a while.

A few days into his return to Richmond, he’d been unable to sleep. Worrying that the team hated him, would always hate him, was he this pathetic failure his dad said he was, would he ever be considered a talented footballer again or would he always just be a joke who put his ‘brand’ first.

He realised he’d didn’t want to call his anyone except you. He wanted to talk to you. You’d answered on the fourth ring and if you were annoyed at being woken at 1am, you didn’t sound it. You’d been concerned, asking if he was in trouble.

“No…I can’t sleep.” Jamie had said, almost ashamed to say anything more. He worried you’d think it was pathetic, a weak reasoning for calling, but at the same time hoped you’d pick up on the something left unsaid.

You did. “I know what you mean” you’d spoken, sleepily “you want a distraction? I can read to you if you like. My books so boring, you’ll fall asleep.”

Jamie had laughed and accepted your offer and settled in as you’d started to read some story.

When he woke the next morning, you were still on the other end of the phone. You were already awake but you must have stayed on the call with him.

‘Just in case’ you’d told him, the corner of your cheek twitching on one side.

It was the single most simple, caring gesture but it cemented it. In that moment he knew he was gone. You just knew him. When he needed to laugh, when he needed to talk and when he just wanted a distraction. (You’d never tell him how easy it was for you to tell).

The next time, hed offered to return the favour he’d read you the book Coach Lasso had bought him. He’d been reluctant at first but you’d persuaded him, encouraging him a little bit at a time and before you knew it, he’d read it cover to cover.

You were just a kind person, he told himself. You were like that with everyone. He’d see you excitedly trying some Nigerian food Sam brought in or attempt to speak Spanish to Dani, who would be thrilled and offer to teach you, he’d see you talk to Keeley, usually showing each other something on your phones and giggling.

Jamie would find himself analysing every conversation you’d had with him, where you like that with other people and for signs that maybe your feelings were mutual. He would run over everything in his head as he ran on the treadmill or worked on presses so much so that by the time he’d decided to just keep quiet, as he did every day, he’d have done several miles or lost count of the amount of presses he’d done.

Fuck it there was no way he could tell you. You were happy and you were his friend and he’d rather have you in his life as his friend than not at all.

***short time skip***

When Jamie had came into your office in a panic on Christmas Eve, asking you if you’d ever cooked a Christmas dinner and begging for you to help him cook one for his mum who would be visiting, you’d agreed against your better judgement. You’d cooked Christmas dinner twice. Once at University and once when your mum had a migraine and you had to finish off and now you were in Jamie’s house on Christmas Day making what he’d bought from M&S two days before into a Christmas dinner.

“I’m surprised you asked me. I thought you’d be inundated with offers.” You said, only half joking as you turned the parsnips in their tray. Jamie who was mulching the cranberries for the sauce like his life depended on it, just shrugged and muttered a ‘not really’. He wished he’d asked you to actually spend Christmas with him properly and not to do him a favour but doing so now would seem last minute and you’d already told him you were dropping in to the Higgins later.

As if on cue, your phone beeped from across the room and you swung the dish towel over your shoulder, not noticing Jamie staring as you flicked up to read Jan’s Whatsapp, watching your face for any signs. Trying to see if you’d added any little hearts next to his name or if you replied to him with twice as many X’s as you gave anyone else.

Ever since Jamie had realised he’d fallen for you, he’d became somewhat obsessed with trying to work out what was going on between you and his teammate. He’d never ask Jan directly. Having been on the receiving end of one of Jan’s blunt comments, Jamie didn’t want to risk hearing something he didn’t want to. With the team still giving him the cold shoulder more often than not, he considered asking Keeley. He’d seen you and her talking sometimes and wondered if it would be weird to ask his ex before realising if he did ask Keeley anything, there was the risk that Roy Kent would overhear and Jamie couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing.

“Richard brought a girl to the Higgins’ party.“ you laughed, letting Jamie know what was happening “Jan just told me.”

“Of course he did” Jamie laughed “Not surprised. He’d bring a girl to training if thought he’d get away with it.”

“Thought that would have been you?” You teased back only to get an eye roll and elbow nudge in response.

After a few minutes, you walked around his kitchen to check the table was set and were surprised to see he’d done a decent job of it.

“I think you’re all set. I promise you can take all the credit. You just need to take the turkey out when she gets here and put the Yorkshires in. They’ll be done quickly so don’t burn them. Desserts are in the fridge.”

Jamie looked a little reluctant and you had to admit the idea of a footballer who regularly played in front of thousands of people being nervous about presenting a Christmas dinner to his mum was a little funny.

“It’ll be good. Trust me…oh wait!” Your face lit up as you suddenly remembered “I have a present for you!” Before he had the chance to respond you’d dashed out into the hall, retrieved the gift from beside where you left your coat and returned back and pushed it into his hands.

After making a show of rattling it to try sense what was inside, Jamie unwrapped it carefully. Your eyes focused in on his face looking for any sign, hoping he liked the gift and you’d hadn’t made things weird.

In the box was a pair of his boots, the same brand his mum had got him, like his first pair. Jamie lifted them out carefully, and turned them over in his hand to see them.

“They’re obviously not the exact pair but they’re customs, I asked Sam what brand they were and they don’t do the exact ones anymore but I found some guy online and…they’re pretty much the same…If you can’t wear them for games because of sponsorships or whatever, you can maybe use them for training or you can return them, i won’t be offended, I just…”

“Thank you.” Jamie was quiet, staring down at the boots before his eyes turned on you “this is the nicest present anyone has ever given me. I, um… thank you.” He repeated finding himself rendered somewhat speechless at what thought you’d put in and how you were clearly worried he wouldn’t like it.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to do something for you…”

“It’s not nothing, I actually do really like them and I’m definitely wearing them. Next game. Thank you.” Jamie paused, his head was only filled with thoughts of how much he wanted to kiss you here in his kitchen, how much he wanted to ask you to stay with him, to spend the rest of the day with him, eating Christmas dinner with his mum and sharing the big box of Roses chocolates and watching any Christmas special just because and then dancing to whatever Christmas song came on, late into the evening.

“Actually I… I got you something too.”

“You got me a present?” Your eyebrows raised in a playful manner “It’s not like a signed picture of you or anything is it? Because if it is, it’s going on eBay.”

“No. Uh…two minutes alright?” Jamie left the room and returned a few minutes later, a poorly wrapped present in his hands. “Sorry about the shit wrapping.”

You laughed and unwrapped it, your face breaking out into a big smile as you found the present “no way!”“This is the coolest thing ever!”

A quiet, comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you over your FaceTime call, you’d just finished laughing about Jamie telling you how he broke into his schools tuck shop as a kid and stole six packets of malteasers. It should have been just a funny childhood anecdote shared with a friend and yet the comments you’d made a while ago itched at the back of Jamie’s mind. “You never asked me about myself, surprised you even remembered my name.” He’d gotten to know you since of course but he wanted to know more, he wanted you to tell him everything, like he was making up for looking through you before.

“Tell me something funny you did when you was kid” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Oh.” You shifted putting your phone down, thinking for a moment. “Ah okay I’ve got it!” You grinned “don’t laugh!” You made him promise.

“When I was a little kid, like I’m talking pre-primary school age, I had this cream cardigan, big daisies and red roses stitched all over it and I would wear it everywhere. I’d put it on to walk to school and cry when Miss Neil made me take it off, when I came home and my mum had to wash it, I’d sit by the washing machine and then in the garden waiting for it to dry. I’d even wear it when it was summer and it was probably too warm, I wore it even when it didn’t go with my outfit. I was not a fashion forward kid”

Jamie started laughing and couldn’t suppress it even over your protests that he promised he wouldn’t.

“What happened to it? The cardigan? You still have it?”

You pouted half jokingly “It got left on a plane on the way back from Tenerife. I cried so much, my dad rang Gatwick and the airport in Tenerife but no one ever turned it in. I’d have outgrown it but I loved that cardigan so much” you said wistfully “I was so annoyed thinking of some random person with my cardigan… I’ve searched online but there’s nothing like it.”

“Understandable. It sounds peak nineties” Jamie remarked with a raised eyebrow

“Oi. It would be considered vintage now” you laughed “Teenagers on depop would pay mega money for that.”

You picked it up and held it against you before putting it straight on without checking for tags.

“Jamie…” You wrapped it tight and folded your arms around you “You remembered! I feel a bit bad for joking now”

“Don’t…don’t…you don’t need to say anything.” Seeing you happy hit him like a brick wall. All he wanted was you smiling at him like you were doing now. His voice was quiet and he could feel the tension, he needed to do something, anything to dissipate it, if he didn’t…Jamie feared he’d just come out with it. “You have the real deal anyway, you don’t need a photo” He settled for a joke.

“Thank you!” You beamed at him and got up to kiss his cheek. “This is the coolest present ever!”

How was it that he’d never been short on attention from women but a kiss on the cheek from you had the biggest effect on him like he was a teenage boy again the first time he fancied a girl.

“Thank you for mine. And for all this…You really sure you can’t stay? It’ll just be me and mum and she’ll fall asleep after Eastenders.”

“Call me when she does. If I’m up, we can FaceTime” you still had your cardigan on and slipped your coat on over the top. “Maybe we can watch one of the Home Alones or Elf together.”

“I love Elf. It’s like my favourite film after Ratatouille.” He grinned at you and you laughed as you reached up and hugged him.

“I know. Merry Christmas Jamie.” You kissed him on the cheek once more

“Merry Christmas, [Name],”

***short time skip***

The addition of Roy to the coaching staff had gone perfectly…except for the one pretty major hiccup of Jamie clashing with him daily and on one occasion, making his way to your place after training to ask if you thought he had bad hair prompting you to wonder what exactly was going on.

A few days later and you were anxiously waiting on the final whistle in the quarter final against Tottenham, Jamie had played incredibly. A goal from right outside the box and only a minute ago he’d scored what looked like it would be the winner. At the sound of the whistle, you were up on your feet and running down to the tunnel. The moment you saw Jamie you ran to him and pulled him into a hug, him lifting you up and holding you flush against him for a few moments.

“You were amazing!” You enthused, looking up at him as you separated. “That free kick in the first half was one of the best ever seen! And a last minute goal… that’s the best game I’ve ever seen you play.”

Jamie grinned on a high from the result, his performance and now you gushing about him, telling him so earnestly how good he was felt amazing. For a moment he could forget you were in the Nelson Road tunnel with a little over 25,000 people just outside and other players and staff milling around you.

“Thanks. My first goal was good wasn’t it?” He was standing so confidently. It had turned out being a prick worked for him…so long as he kept it to the pitch. You liked seeing him back to the player you knew he could be.

“That’s goal of month, maybe even the season!”You reached up and fixed his hair without even thinking “Go celebrate. you deserve this.”

“Come out with me… I mean come out with us, we’re going out, all of us, you should come” Jamie said all at once.

“Sure I’ll come for one!” You nodded.

*

Across the bar, you could see a girl who looked like she could have walked off the set of Keeping Up with the Kardashians lean over and talk to Richard who was responding by pouring her a glass of wine, no doubt feeding her some sort of cheesy chat up line.

Jamie slid into the booth beside you, and, with the slight contact your knee made against his, he felt himself relax.

“That’s probably the third girl I’ve seen him give his number to tonight” he commented and you laughed, pleased to see him join you in your people watching.

“Welcome to being on this side of the fence.” You leant in close to him so you could talk.

“She not your type?” You asked curiously. “She’s alive isn’t she?” You teased. Jamie hadnt dated since Keeley, or rather, since his stint on the show if you could call that dating. It did seem a little odd to you that he’d never once mentioned anyone despite your fast formed friendship and everything else he’d willingly shared with you.

Jamie shook his head. “Nah i’m…”. How could he tell you he didn’t want anyone else other than you. “I’m not…nah not really doing that kinda thing anymore.”

Even if he tried, Jamie doubted he could bring himself to show any enthusiasm for chatting up anyone else anymore. How could he consider anyone else when it felt like you were the only person in the room who saw him. You actually saw him for him in his worst moments and still wanted to be around him. How could he not want you?

Your heart was beating as you took in Jamie’s response. It was only a short response but it set the smallest of sparks in your stomach and you took a swig from the bottle of cider in your hand to distract yourself from running over what that meant. Was he not interested in anyone? Was there something he wasn’t saying?

Looking for something to change the subject before it became awkward, your eyes fell to your phone, flat against the table, and you started at the clock telling you it was 00:10. Somewhat grateful for the easy out, you picked it up and slipped it into your back.

“I’m going to head home, I have an early start tomorrow.”

“Can i walk you home?” Jamie felt a little dejected but wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend time with you just one on one. “I don’t mind leaving now?”

You were grateful and almost wished you could take him up on it. Maybe when you were alone you could ask him more about what he meant.

How badly you wanted to say yes. Yes to him walking you home and how you’d hope on the walk home you’d maybe have enough courage to invite him in and up to your bedroom. The experience with your ex still lingered and you never ever thought it would be Jamie Tartt of all people to make you want to throw your one rule out of the window.

But he wasn’t the Jamie of old. This Jamie was funny and caring, he’d bring you a tea every morning before training, he’d call you and he’d ask you to go do “intellectual stuff” with him when he was too self conscious to go himself. He’d run through ideas or tactics he had with you and even ask you to watch his highlight reels, not for vanity but because he wanted a fans opinion, he’d get you to come out to dinners with him when he was offered free food at restaurants and throughout all of this, you were just his friend, his loyal best friend, when you were internally screaming that you wanted him.

Realising you hadn’t said anything in a few seconds, you quickly found a response “you’re the best for offering but… Jan’s offered to drive me. He’s not been drinking so it’s fine. He’s dropping off Colin too if you need a lift, I can ask him? I’m sure he won’t mind?” You asked, hoping Jamie would accept and you’d just both get out at his or yours.

Jamie felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

Of course. Jan. Were you going back to his? Did you talk to Jan the way you talked to him? What had happened to “I don’t date footballers” or was that just your way of telling him you’d never want him like he wanted you? There was a part of him screaming to retreat, make an excuse, go home, move on but Jamie didn’t want to do that. He wanted to ask you outright but he couldn’t push the words out. So he did neither and just sat there.

“It’s okay.” He said forcing a smile. “Someone has to look after Isaac. I’ll get a taxi”

“Are you sure? If you want we can-…”

“Hey. Are you ready?” the Dutch centre-back interrupted from the aisle between tables before Jamie could reply “Some of us need sleep.” He teased, pointing at Colin who was leaning to one side, almost asleep on Moe’s shoulder “and I don’t want him to sleep in my car. Last time I had to let him sleep on my sofa.”

You laughed and almost as if he heard his teammate Colin jolted awake muttering he was ready and reaching for his coat.

“Sure I’m ready.” You gave Jamie a hug as you stood up and he watched you go, wishing he’d gone with you the second you were gone.

**

Jamie had been on edge since it was confirmed that the semi final at Wembley would be against Man City. You knew it had to be related to his dad, to his old club, to how everything was building to such a point that he was wound so tight, you were surprised he hadn’t snapped like an elastic band.

In the fall out from the result to Man City and the altercation with his dad, Jamie had come to you before he’d boarded the bus. He hadn’t needed to say anything, it was all over his face. You could see it. Without even needing to ask, Ted had waved for you to get on the bus with the team. Usually the staff would travel separately if they went to games but in this moment, the coach didn’t question it.

You settled in beside Jamie and shifted so he could rest his head on your shoulder and carefully you reached around so you could put an arm around him too and used your other to take his hand and you would stay that way for the journey back to the training ground where the players had left their cars.

Even as you exited the coach, you could tell he was tense, and as you walked him to his car, you could barely hear him when he came out with it.

“Are you okay?” You asked him once he’d done explaining “I’m so sorry Jamie. Your dad really is a prick”

Before Jamie replied, he looked up and over you across the car park, his eyes caught those of his teammate.

“I, uh, I will be. Fresh air is doing me good. I think I need to go home and sleep.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Jamie. I’m not an idiot. You need to talk?”

He pushed a hand back through his hair and with one look in your eyes conceded with a nod

*

After driving back to his and getting into his house, Jamie dropped onto the sofa, not bothering to change out of the training kit he’d travelled in. You made him a decaf tea and took a spot next to him on his sofa and let him lean back on you as listened to him tell you everything

“Was that the first time you’d…”

“Hit him back?” Jamie’s eyes didn’t lift from the spot in the middle distance. “Yeah. Couldn’t really fight back as a kid.”

“I was going to say ‘seen him since you left…” you kept your arm around him, loosely tracing in a manner you hoped was soothing. “But I’d guess same answer.”

Jamie lifted his head off your shoulder for a second. “Erm…” His dad had contacted him a few times whilst he’d played for City. Mostly asking for free tickets, to meet the rest of the team and to get tours of the ground. Jamie had given in reluctantly on the first one and skirted around the final two. “Yeah… I guess he wasn’t arsed about me playing for Richmond. Cant brag about me if I’m in the Championship and he can’t be fucked getting the train down to London”

“Jamie.” You tried “you deserve so much better…He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.” You reassured him “you’ve been amazing these past few months Jamie. The best you’ve played. I know you probably wouldn’t want him at Richmond but still…his loss”

“Only got him the tickets to get him off my back and he didn’t even fucking support me. Went in the City end. Don’t know what I was expecting”

You imagined that must have stung for him. His dad feigning an interest just to turn around and support the team playing against his son. His old club, to add insult to injury.

“How do you feel now?” You asked cautiously. “Must have been hard for you to stand up to him…given how long he’s been…like that for?”

“I mean… shit because he’s my dad but he doesn’t act like he is, but like…I don’t regret it or anything…I just got fucking shit of it yknow…slagging me off, the club off…putting me down in front of everyone…and he’ll show up next time, if we get promoted he’ll be after tickets again…”

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t get near. You never have to deal with that again Jamie. You shouldn’t have had to take it back then and you don’t now”

“Thanks.” He added on “For… not just staying here but…for like always having time for me and that.”

“I’ll always have time for you Jamie.”

***a few weeks later***

The yearly charity gala had come around fast and unlike last year, you had actually looked forward to it this year. In the weeks leading up to it, you’d picked out a new outfit including new shoes.

Jamie had agreed to pick you up, asking you the second you’d said you were going and you’d agreed. Since you’d spent the night at his, completely platonically, Jamie’s already overwhelming feelings towards you had grown even more and you showing up to a charity gala with his teammate was the last thing he wanted and even though he’d spent the entire day telling himself this wasn’t a date, he still felt nervous as he rang your doorbell.

The second you opened it, he couldn’t help but break out into a big smile “You look… really good.” He nodded “this new?”

“Thank you” you accepted his compliment, nodding as you stepped aside to let him in “So do you. Not auctioning yourself off tonight?”

“Nah I’m not feeling up for it this year.”

Your eyes scanned his suit before realising his tie was slightly off “Can I?” You pointed at it.

You waited for him to nod before stepping in to fix his tie, before realising it needed a re-do.

“You know I’ve not had to wear a tie since school, but I reckon I could do a better job of it than this.” You joked, pulling the knot by his neck and re opening the fabric.

“You wore your tie? Don’t think I went a week without forgetting mine.” Jamie laughed.

“I was Deputy Head Girl.” You felt a little bit red, like suddenly you were back at school being paired with the popular boy for a project. “Kinda had to.” You looped it around before sliding it into place.

You shook the thought from your head. This was Jamie. Your friend. He could date anyone he wanted, why would he go out with someone normal and ordinary.

Jamie watched you in concentration for a few seconds before he couldn’t help himself.

“He’s punching going out with you, you know” the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He couldn’t help himself. Jamie didn’t mean it, at least, he didn’t mean it as it sounded. Jan was fine and of course he would be your exception to your rule. He seemed like he’d be your type. Still it stung. He wasn’t used to not getting the girls he liked…but maybe he should have expected it. You weren’t interested in the fame that attracted girls to athletes normally so of course you wouldn’t want him. You probably liked Jan because he was honest, funny and spoke three languages rather than the money and fame.

You stopped what you were doing, hands still on his tie, confused.

“What are you on about?”

“Yknow…Jan. You’re way too fit for him.”

“I’m not going out with Jan.”

You made sure it was centred before letting go of the fabric and suddenly aware of your close proximity, you stepped back.

“He takes you home and stuff…I figured you two were.”

“Shagging?” You came straight out with it, eyebrows raised

“Well…yeah?” He shrugged. “Ain’t you with him?”

Who’d have thought it. Jamie Tartt, who you’d considered the biggest arsehole you’d ever met a few months back, now being protective over you. It was weirdly quite sweet. Truth be told, you’d warmed to Jamie. A lot. If anyone had told you that last season you’d have thought they’d gone mad. When he’d left Richmond, you’d never even expected to see him in person again, let alone be friends with him.

“Jan’s just a friend…Didn’t realise anyone had noticed…also… surprised you remembered my…thing about footballers”

“I’m glad you’re not with him cause, yknow he’s…”

“Are you going to call someone else a prick?” Your head tilted to the side, hair falling with it. “Because if you are, that’s pretty fucking ironic.”

Jamie opened and closed his mouth, ready to reply when he saw you were half smiling.

“I’m messing with you...again” you teased and Jamie remembered the conversation he’d had with you outside the hotel in Manchester. Only this time you were looking at him differently. Back then you were looking at him like he was lost, now he’d swear you were… almost looking at him with affection.

“Nah, hes… he’s alright yknow just he’s not…” Jamie paused. He couldn’t say ‘not good enough’ because if Jan wasn’t the type of footballer you’d date, Jamie knew he definitely wouldn’t be. “Not who i picture you with.”

“Who do you picture me with?”

You were looking up at him, genuine interest on your face like you were waiting on a serious answer.

“I, uh, I don’t know.” The twisting in his stomach had been replaced and now the weight of relief, finding out you weren’t actually with Jan had lifted he didn’t know exactly what to say. With other girls he’d never had a problem asking them out but you? It was always different with you. “Just someone else.”

“Jamie…what’s going on?” you reached up and gently tilted his face so you could look at him. In spite of your confident action, your heart was hammering against your chest.

He let out a deep breath, eyes flickering over you for a moment, before he came out with it

“When I thought you were going out with Jan Maas. It was driving me mad.”

“Why?”

“I…I guess maybe I was jealous or something?”

“Thought you didn’t get jealous.” You’d heard all about his escapades with other women via the press and via various clips people had sent you of him on his TV show.

“I don’t not normally …” Jamie played with the cuff links absentmindedly. He sighed and looked down and then back up at you “I don’t wanna be like that anymore…I just,” he paused.

“Look” you said again “whatever you want to say… you can tell me…”

Jamie didn’t know what was holding him back. “I want to be the kind of guy you’d go out with, i don’t wanna disrespect you, and like I don’t want to ruin us being mates but…I really, really like you.”

“Jamie.” You laced your hand with his, feeling a swelling in your chest “I wish you’d told me sooner…You already are…you are the kind of guy I’d go out with.”

“What?”

“You are…the type of guy that I’d go out with.” You repeated with a reassurance in your voice “How could you not be? You’re sweet, you’re funny, you make me laugh…you listen…”

Jamie felt his heart hard against his chest, barely able to let your words sink in. “So if I asked you out? you’d go out with me?”

“Of course I will.” You squeezed his hand gently and as his shoulders relaxed and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as he dropped his forehead to yours.

“I can’t believe Jamie Tartt was worried about asking me out. You’ve been out with like models and stuff…and it’s me that you were worried about.”

He sighed “Yeah but that’s why I like you…cause you’re you.”

Come on. Let’s go to this auction.”

“Together yeah?”

“Of course. Good job your shirt matches my outfit…or you’d have to change” you teased.

Cue when you walked in hand in hand, Jamie was greeted by about half the team congratulating him on you two finally getting it together, including Jan who’d found it hilarious that Jamie had thought something was going on between you too.

***

Jamie had, with the best intentions, planned a perfect evening. A few days after you’d accepted him asking you out, he’d booked a reservation at restaurant he knew you’d like as a surprise knowing that it was one you’d always walked by and remarked it looked nice but never got around to trying it .

Things had not gone as planned.

After you’d arrived at the restaurant, you’d found out they’d closed due to a leak in the kitchen, you’d suggested going to a local bar and had lasted all of fifteen minutes before a drunk man in a too tight t shirt had knocked his pint over you and staggered off without apologising much to your ire. Jamie had wanted to go after the man and tell him to apologise but you’d just wanted to leave. Only ten minutes after leaving, Jamie had been approached by a group of kids looking for pictures and autographs and only a few seconds later, the skies opened and despite trying to huddle under a canopy of a nearby, closed cafe, you got soaked. Jamie, whilst taking photos with the young kids gave you a mouthed sorry but you told him to carry on knowing it would make the kids day.

Once he was done, he jogged back over to you, now shivering slightly and offered you his coat as you ran back to his

*

“You look really fit in my stuff. You should keep them.” Jamie remarked as you flopped down next to him on the sofa, now wearing a oversized tee and joggers that he’d pulled out for you to wear whilst your actual outfit was in his washing machine.

“Sorry the date was shit.” He added on as he ran a towel over his damp hair.

“Could have been worse” you shrugged with a smile as you dried off your own hair. “I’ve had worse dates.”

He let out a sigh and laid back on the sofa “I just wanted to take you out some place dead nice.”

“Jamie...that’s so sweet but you don’t have to. I just like being with you.” You shifted closer to him and scooted under his arm to rest on his chest. “I don’t care if it’s at a restaurant or like this…”

“I promise we’ll go out somewhere proper next time.” He leant down and kissed you softly. Dating you made Jamie felt like he’d finally got everything he’d ever wanted, and he was kicking himself for not asking you out the second he realised he had feelings for you.

“I could do that all day” You muttered against his lips as you separated briefly.

He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed your hair back before kissing you again. “Don’t think we could do this in the restaurant.”

You smiled against his mouth “well we could but probably wouldn’t be allowed back…”

“Maybe we can go back when they’ve fixed the leak and try?” Jamie made a joke and you playfully swatted him before kissing him again.

“Oh, Im holding you to that…”

***

Dating Jamie was so easy. Much easier than you’d thought. It was just like it was when you were friends but he’d always be taking your hand or wrapping an arm around you or kissing you…and of course you’d spend the night together rather than driving home after meeting up. When people had said date your best friend you’d never actually thought it could be possible.

Any fears or ghosts of your past that lingered over the bad experience with your ex were soon quashed by Jamie. Before you’d got together, you’d found it somewhat bittersweet that it was the former ladies man that you’d fallen for after swearing off dating footballers but now that you woke up to him every other morning and got to see him being the absolute perfect boyfriend to you, it just made sense.

So much so that eventually you’d caved and told him the name of the player you’d went out with before and Jamie had been thrilled to learn your ex was a goalkeeper and had made a promise to you he’d score against him.

You’d found it adorably sweet in the moment and incredibly hot when he followed through with his promise not once but twice, securing a brace and a win in the same game and making a big show of pointing at you and blowing a kiss into the stands. He’d almost been late in the next morning.

Jamie knew he loved you. Maybe it had started when you’d given him that chance in Manchester. You didn’t have to. If you’d told him to piss off, Jamie wouldn’t have blamed you but you hadn’t. You’d seen something in him, maybe believed in him deep down and now he was a better man, in part due to you.

The final game of the season was a whirlwind of emotions and knowing he’d be nervous for the game that could earn Richmond promotion back into the Premier League you’d snuck into the tunnel to see him just before he went out

“Good luck today babe.” You leant up and kissed him gently. “No matter what happens. I’m so proud of you, the player you are and the man you are.”

“Thanks” his eyes met yours “I, uh could have never done it without you.”

“Course you could. The talents all yours”

“I mean the…” Jamie paused, before looking at your shirt. He turned you around. “You’re wearing my shirt” he grinned at you and held up your arm so he could twirl you and see his name on your Richmond shirt. “Looks good on you”

“Course I am. Who else’s shirt would I wear.” You leant in and kissed him once more before the sound of the rest of the team approaching signalled it was time for you to go join the rest of the fans in the stands. “Smash it for me babe.”

**

Upon the final whistle, the coaching staff and bench descended on to the pitch to celebrate and you couldn’t help yourself.

You ran down to the barrier, dug into your bag to flash your work lanyard at a steward and ran on yourself, calling out to Jamie as you approached.

He caught you as you jumped into an embrace, quickly asking if he was okay after he was fouled in the lead up to Richmonds penalty. Jamie nodded.

“Yea yeah I’m fine babe. I’ve never been happier.” He looked breathless, a mixture of excitement, energy and adrenaline from the game.

“I love you Jamie.”

He kissed you deeply, passionately, caught up in the moment and not caring about the thousands of surrounding people, happy to be celebrating with you and the team.

“I love you. Next year I’m going to win you the whole thing”

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3

John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?

Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.

This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.

My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.

John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?

“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.

And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.

Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.

Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?

Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.

Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.

Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.

John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.

Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.

John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.

John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.

You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.

Biconic quote.

Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then

I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”

What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.

Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.

And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.

Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.

"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.

John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.

John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.

Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.

No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.

Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”

Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”

How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”

“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.

But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.

But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.

“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”

[drewsbuzzcut]

So Lovely, It Feels So Right

Mat barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: SMUT, alcohol consumption, and mentions of tattoos (let me know if I missed anything)

Tonight’s the Isles wags’ annual galentine’s get together. It’s nothing fancy, just an intimate gathering at the Martin’s house. There are drinks, snacks, and a small gift exchange.

After laughing so hard your stomachs hurt and drinking various bottles of wine, it’s finally your turn to open your gift. You gently pull out the tissue paper and uncover a black thong with “i ❤️ barzal” printed on the front. You let out an infectious giggle, your cheeks growing red hot.

“Syd! Oh my god. I cannot believe you got me this,” you shriek, hands covering your eyes in faux shyness. You actually liked your little gift- that’d also be a gift for Mat.

“I wanted to get you something on brand for your relationship. We all know you love taking your man to bed. Anyways, soon you’ll be a Barzal,” she points out and you grow flustered thinking about your upcoming nuptials.

Once everyone opens their gifts and finishes their last glass of wine, someone suggests going to a tattoo shop and who are you to not go through with it? Maybe it isn’t the best idea for a bunch of inebriated women to go get tattoos, but you’ll never be one to deny a good time. Mat’s in for a treat later.

-

Walking up to your front door serves as a challenge, your heel keeps getting caught in the cobblestone of your driveway. It doesn’t help that your buzz is still lingering in your limbs. Finally pushing the door open, you sashay into your house. The sting of your fresh tattoo is very well present as you think about what Mat’s reaction will be like.

You walk in looking disheveled but content. Your cheeks are rosy and your eyes are glossy. Your hair is in its signature messy bun, tank top hiked up your chest to hide your newest addition to your ink collection. You don’t get far before you find Mat in the game room, playing around at the pool table.

“Baby,” you announce your presence, slowly making your way towards him.

As you round a corner of the pool table, your fingers trace the “Barzal” engraved in the wood. Your engagement ring catches every angle of the lighting, making it shine and making Mat’s heart race. He cannot wait to marry you.

“Hey, have a good night?” He asks, pulling you into his arms and swaying with you.

“A wonderful night. We laughed a lot. We also had a lot of wine,” you answer with your eyes closed in delight.

“I can tell,” that piqued your interest. You pop a single eye open.

“What do you mean?” You hop onto the edge of the pool table, arms looped over your fiancés shoulders.

“You’re all giggly and touchy. Major signs that you’re drunk,” he explains, kissing your neck.

You stay silent, too focused on his lips on your skin.

“Did Nolan go down easy?” You finally clear your head from thoughts of the man in front of you.

“Of course. He’s the most perfect baby. He had his bottle and I rocked him in the chair for a couple of hours before putting him in his crib. He’s all bundled up, too. He looks so precious,” Mat says and you coo just thinking about your baby boy.

“I’m glad he didn’t give you any trouble with his bottle. He’s been giving me hell just because I try to feed him with the bottle,” you sigh, body leaning into his.

“He’s a little momma’s boy. I can’t blame him.” You definitely agree with that.

Minutes pass by, Mat and you just looking into each other’s eyes. Every now and then he’ll play with your ring. It’s become a habit of his.

“I’m not drunk you know you,” you tut and tilt your head to the side, your eyes playfully glare him.

“Tipsy but not drunk,” you add, your heel clad feet reaching out to rub against his muscly thighs. He immediately catches your hint. You are feeling needy which is a usual occurrence when you drink wine.

“What do you need, pretty girl?” His voice gets raspy and he picks up your legs one by one and takes off your heels.

“You, baby. I need you,” you pull him down into a kiss, head starting to spin when he invades your mouth with his tongue.

His hands caress your thighs over your jeans, steadily rising to the button and zipper. The heat in the room rises and the moisture starts to collect in your underwear when he starts to undo your pants.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs when he sees your specially made panties.

You giggle and pull him into another kiss, this time you’re the one shoving your tongue down his throat. You grip and pull at his soft locks, just the way his touch grips your every nerve ending and sets them alight. Plus, the moans that vibrate through his chest are enough of a reason to not let go.

He guides you back to lay down, your body erupting in chills from his touch on your bare skin and the cold of the table. He softly squeezes at your legs in a subtle tease before pulling down your thong with his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your reaction. Just by the way your chest heaves and your legs subconsciously widen is proof enough that you’re enjoying what he’s doing.

Your core glistens for him and he wants so badly to dive into your wet folds, but he always wants to tease you. If it’s for a minute or more depends on his mood. He’s feeling giving and generous, so he won’t tease you too much but just work you up until you’re antsy. He kneels down, eyesight perfectly level with one of his favorite sights: you, wet and begging. He lays kisses up your legs, nipping tenderly at the stretch marks on your inner thighs. You reach down and intertwine your fingers with his, your ring biting at his skin, a reminder of your future. Continuing on his path upward, he purses his lips and blows a cool stream of air on your wetness, eyes darkening at your whimpers. He lets a small laugh pass through his lips and presses a sweet kiss just below your belly button.

“Do something, please,” you beg, squeezing his hand.

“Do what?” He acts innocent, but you know he’s just trying to get you to voice your needs.

“Eat me out or fuck me. Just do something,” you whine, a low scream falling from your lips as he leans up to mouth at your neck. His clothed cock rubs against your pussy, sending tingles throughout your entire body.

“You’re sexy when you’re bossy,” he whispers in your ear, sending you into a frenzy of sexual tension that’s dying to be resolved.

“If you don’t do anything, I’ll just get myself off,” you sass, closing your legs just a bit.

Mat stops you before you can close them all the way, his fingers opening you up so he can spit on your clit. The feral urge you have for him increases just by the action alone. You lift up your hips, but he quickly pins them down. Your annoyed huff turns into an airy moan when his thick fingers spreading your wetness around your fluttering hole. He delicately kisses around your mound, pressing a loving kiss to your clit.

The few deep breaths you take don’t prepare you for the way pleasure engulfs your body when Mat wraps his lips around your clit. His tongue nudges it while his lips continuously suction around the bud. You tug at your own hair, feeling your mind grow fuzzy when you hear his obscene moans. The vibration feels even better.

“You like that, baby?” He speaks his words into the apex of your thighs.

You numbly nod your head, already high on the overwhelming bliss that comes from his mouth alone.

“Words, baby,” he trades his lips for his finger tip, softly massaging slow circles into your bundle of nerves.

“I love it so much. It feels so good,” you comply albeit being breathless.

Every rational thought flees your head when he starts tracing his name with the tip of his tongue, sending you on a hazy spiral towards your orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. I’m yours,” you chant, knowing he was staking his claim even though he doesn’t need to.

You don’t even realize him pulling away until he’s pushing your tank top further up your chest, unveiling your boobs. He loves when you’re braless. He licks his lips, leaving sucking kisses all up your torso. For a quick moment you snap out of your daze, remembering your new tattoo that your fiancé still doesn’t know about. Luckily, he doesn’t pull your top off all the way.

“Is my pretty girl still sensitive?” He knows damn well your boobs are still sensitive from breastfeeding for 7 months.

You whisper a yes, but it’s quickly replaced with a cry as he softly sucks them into his mouth. It doesn’t last long because you’re still producing milk, so he decides to suck on the flesh surrounding your nipples. No low cut tops are in your future unless you want people to witness the craving Mat’s mouth had. You will definitely be looking like a cheetah after he’s done with you.

You lift your hips up into him, begging for friction, but also distracting him from eventually making his way to your tattoo. You didn’t want him to see it just yet.

He spreads your folds open again, not holding back and he immediately starts lapping up your arousal. The slurping noises fill your ears and his ravenous moans make you even wetter.

“You taste so good, pretty girl. I can eat your pretty pussy all day,” he praises, voice sweet and thick like honey.

“I love you,” you reply.

“I love you.” His words are followed by his tongue entering your weeping hole.

Your body arches off the pool table, screams and moan ripping from your throat as he fucks you with his tongue. Again, your hips lift up, but this time Mat doesn’t press them down. He holds up your lower body, burying his face in your pussy.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”

The vibrations from his moans and grunts make your brain short circuit, the mind numbing sensation has you in its palm.

You reach down, a hand back in his hair and the other planted on his upper back. The cold metal of your ring feels nice against his warm skin.

“I’m going to cum,” you whine, your cunt clenching down on his tongue.

“Not yet.”

“Please,” it comes out in a gasp, Mat’s thick fingers sinking into your pussy.

His fingers move slowly in a come hither motion, dragging out your pleasure and making you wait until you can let that knot in your stomach snap. His tongue flattens against your clit, his face moving side to side to continuously apply friction.

“Maty, please. I can’t do it. I need to cum, please,” you beg, legs closing around Mat’s head.

“I need you to hold it baby,” he whispers against your soaking cunt.

“I can’t. I can’t,” your body is trembling and you’re trying to steady yourself, but it feels too good. Your orgasm is on the brink of destruction.

He sets you down, one hand pressing into your lower abdomen while his fingers fuck up into you. Throwing your head back, both your arms reach out to grip onto something. Tears stream down your face, but you’ve never felt more alive.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess,” he finally gives you the green light.

Everything goes blurry, the pressure in your stomach releases and you feel liquid squirt out of you, and the state of euphoria your body is in is unexplainable. Mat’s fingers work you through your orgasm with slow strokes but still enough to make you twitch.

“You’re so beautiful, my love. I didn’t know you could squirt like that,” he muses, pecking your thighs.

You whimper when he pulls his fingers out. It’s erotic the way your release drips down his hand. For a moment, you think he’ll lick it up, but you’re proven wrong when he gets you to sit up. He guides his fingers to your mouth and you willingly suck on them, moaning at the taste of yourself. Your eyes peer into his eyes, hooded and dark, they reel him in. Out are his fingers, and his lips press to yours. Salacious moans pass between your mouths when he sucks on your tongue. He’ll never get tired of your taste.

“I love you,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, nipping and pulling at your bottom one.

You smile dazedly at him, feeling sleepy and cuddly in his arms.

“Come on, baby. Let me take you upstairs and get you in a bath,” he coos, rubbing at your back.

“In one minute. I want to stay here in your arms for a little while. I missed you today,” you kiss his chin and the side of his jaw.

“Nols and I did, too,” he says.

“Tomorrow we cuddle in bed all day,” you state.

“Whatever you want. Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. I love you,” he tells you.

You look over at the clock hanging on the wall and realize it’s well past midnight.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby daddy. I love you so much,” you kiss him once more.

“I actually have a small surprise for you,” you whisper into his mouth.

“What’s that, pretty girl?” He looks at you expectantly.

You pull your tank top over your head with one hand, so the other can still cover up your tattoo. Slowly, you move your hand away to finally show off the ‘13.’

“Holy shit. No way, babe. That’s hot,” Mat gasps, reaching out to touch it.

“Just for you, baby,” you softly whimper, your skin still sore from the incessant needle.

He looks at you with such tender love and feral, sexual desire. You can feel the tension fill the room again, your cunt begging for him and his cock straining against his basketball shorts. You’re both in for a long night.

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day my lovelies! I hope you know you’re loved so much🫶 I hope you all enjoy!

[juniperss]

Little Sister Curtis Headcanons

these were inspired by this request and co-created with my pal @a-libra-writes!!

Libra and I came up with the name “Sunshine” because 1) it’s adorable and 2) you can’t tell me that’s not a name that Mom and Papa Curtis wouldn’t have had written down on the baby name list. Her brothers usually call her by her first name, but Sunny also works just fine.

Only about a year gap between Sunny and Ponyboy which places her at around 13 if we’re going based off the book’s events (while ignoring certain plot elements that make me sad, thank you)

Sunny is a bit more like Darry after their parents die; she tries to keep the house clean and take over her mom’s responsibilities. Because if Darry is gonna earn the money, maybe she can help this way. Her brothers worry that she’s growing up too fast and try to get her to take it easy (pots meet kettle!!!). 

Darry tries to take her out to the movies when she gets stressed out even if he falls asleep 10 minutes in. She doesn’t really mind that he dozes off, she’s used to it. It's the thought that counts. 

Soda has her come to work with him sometimes and help out on the cars. “Learn something!” as if she doesn’t learn enough at school. Comes home dirtied and tired of Soda and Steve, complains a bit but she's smiling.

Tags along with Ponyboy to anywhere he wants. They usually go for walks and talk about school and the gang. 

If Johnny is the “pet brother” for the Gang, Sunny is the pet sister and has an interesting relationship with the rest of the boys.

Two Bit is viewed as a “decent” brother figure and he at least knows how to act around a younger sister. Probably the most likely out of the group (next to her actual brothers) to look after Sunny like his own kid sister. There’s no antics you can get up to that surprise him anymore than he’s already used to. 

Steve is a pest to her and gets in the way of spending time with Soda. They have a small rivalry but it’s less tense then Steve and Pony’s relationship for sure. Sunny doesn’t tag along nearly as much so it kinda evens things out. 

Dally and Sunny…..are what I’d describe as a Tom and Jerry dynamic but who's Tom and who's Jerry is always changing. Mutual chaos and the source of that chaos switches depending on the day. Dally is on Sunny’s shit list because he made a comment about her cooking once. Which, to be fair to Dallas, the potatoes in the soup WERE NOT cooked through so he was right, but she still holds a little grudge. It doesn’t matter if he was the only person to actually eat all of it. She scolds Dally for putting his feet on the coffee table, he calls her a brat, she aims the football for the back of his head, he pulls on her hair and purposefully calls her by the wrong name. Laughs like a fiend when she yells “Dallas Winston im gonna knock your head right off!". But she also knows that Dallas would be the first person to knock someone’s teeth out if she needed him to. 

Johnny is her pal and she enjoys his company the most of the Gang. He’s a good escape from the rowdy bunch and he doesn’t cause nearly as much damage in the house as the rest, he helps with the dishes and he laughs at her jokes. She likes him and he likes her and they’ve got each other’s backs.

The Brothers are worried about raising a sister. I mean they know fundamentally that she needs what they do and that for the last 13 years they’ve been doing a good job of looking out for her, but all 3 of them are concerned that they’re not enough for Sunshine. Not only did she lose her parents, she lost her Mom and she doesn’t have anyone who can fill that spot. Mrs. Matthews helps when she can and she’s a lifesaver to Darry when he has questions, but he can’t shake the feeling that Sunshine was robbed of better and stuck with them. 

Darry goes a bit easier on Sunshine than he does with Ponyboy. Part of that is because Sunshine and him are more alike than the other two siblings, so they understand each other better. The other part is that Darry thinks Sunshine is already taking on too much responsibility by trying to replace their mom. 

Darry taught her how to fight when she was like 9 and she’s gotten into good scraps with the Gang, but Darry and the rest are adamant that she stay out of fights because she’s too little. Sunshine is all too ready to toss out that she’s only a year younger than Ponyboy! To which the rest of the boys say, “He’s a kid, you’re a baby”. This in fact does not stop her from fighting when she needs to but she does try her best to stay out of trouble for Darry, especially after their parent’s deaths. 

She loved so much. Darry doesn’t say it nearly as much as he knows he should (and that applies to all his siblings) but he goes out of his way to make sure Sunshine has something special just for herself once in a while. Soda routinely suggests getting her a haircut when he notices her messing with it or hears her one off comment about not feeling pretty or looking nice. Ponyboy tries his best to help her out around the house or with her homework. She knows they love her and she loves them.