#it's a name now sure but that's NOT where it came from | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedgito · 2 days ago

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𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 | Javier Peña x reader

summary | Javier needed a vacation, badly.

author's note | for writing through the seasons, hosted by @guiltyasdave (happy birthday bby!!) & @sizzlingcloudmentality. such a beautiful challenge and i really enjoyed writing something a little lighter for javi. and a big thank you to @kedsandtubesocks & @hauntedhowlett for helping me plan this out.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, post narcos s3, old partners, holding grudges, enemies to lovers, javi in shorts, drinking, less than subtle flirting, shower sex, unprotected piv and creampies, some feelings at the end <3

word count — 7k

Being forced out of Colombia had been a blessing in disguise, really.

With an asshat like Javier Peña as the attaché and taking that power to clean house, you had been an innocent casualty among the masses. There were about twenty of you, some lower staff, some agents - like you, but it was all the push you needed to switch gears.

The passion you initially started with had waned slowly, desensitized to every drug bust and dead body; young, old. It was draining, debilitating on some days. Taking a job at the inn had rejuvenated you and washed away the heavy weight of the DEA and all the baggage that came with it.

As for Javier, he spent weeks searching for a proper place to use as his getaway, constant whispers and recommendations from friends about a small island off the coast of Hawaii - discreet, quiet, a place where he didn’t have to be known. He wanted to exist away from home; the occasional spotlight—he wanted to disappear.

It was perfect, walking up the lone inn on the tiny island with a deep, relieving breath and his bag slung over his shoulder, approaching the desk with his natural swagged, the gentle sway of his hips in those figure hugging jeans, fit perfectly to his muscled thighs and a peach colored button-up to match.

Not beach attire, but easily clocked. Your face is buried in the laptop you swing around to the front desk, a faint clearing of a throat coming a few inches away and up, catching a glimpse of the watch, then the plush lips pushed out under a thick mustache, yellow-tinted glasses that hid those pensive fucking eyes.

You both realize it at the same moment.

What the fuck are you doing here?

It’s said in unison, laptop snapped shut as you take in his cliche attire.

In the year since you’ve been let go, he hasn't changed a bit.

“I’ve got a room booked for the weekend,” Javier continues despite your pinched expression, the strong wave of bitterness returning as you glare at him, staring up at the clock that read a quarter ‘til five, only fifteen minutes left on your shift before your next break.

Maybe if you waited him out you could send him on his way, knowing very well there wasn’t any other possible booking on the island and he would have to find a flight back home.

Fuck him. God, fuck him.

As good as you had it now, it didn’t lessen the sting of a career you had worked so hard for, crumbling to nothing with a flick of pen and someone's shitty opinion, crossing your name off like it meant nothing, like you hadn’t done enough grunt work for him to even earn a simple thank you.

You existed around him, not with him.

Even now, he’s staring at you like he’s waiting for you to spin on his axis, tap your fingers delicately against the work computer and handing over his room key with a smile. Practiced, forced.

He could find somewhere else, surely.

He doesn’t realize he let the thought slip audibly until you’re replying with an amused tone, “No, you can’t,” It was cocky, but oozing a venom that Javier knew to steer clear of, “we’re the only place on the island.”

Silently you type in his name, knowing that despite your immediate distaste that returns like a natural, learned behavior—you had a job to do.

But, it doesn’t stop your mouse from hovering over the cancel button for a moment too long, watching his expression turn from smug to pitiful.

It was a glaring dichotomy, personalities swapped, watching a once confident man shrink in shame as he scratches his cheek and looks away, your fingers typing quietly at the keyboard before you eventually disappear without a word, fetching the room key.

It was a pricier suite, unsurprising. Room 213. You swing the key ring around your finger and double-check the information, seeing that he had paid ahead of time and handled all the necessary additions over the phone with a different employee.

“This what you do now?” He asks - it was a question of genuine curiosity, but it comes out judgmental, at least, it reads that way. He takes the key from your extended finger and ignores the obvious tension that was weaving around you both like a tangled mess.

“It’s surprising how hard it is to get back onto a job at the embassy when the head attaché fires you without proper reasoning—overstaffing, was it? Budget cuts?” You tilt your head slightly, staring him down with a polite smile as you slide the paper receipt across the counter, “I guess we’ll never know, huh?”

“Hey, that’s—”

“I don’t care, Javier,” You reply honestly, interjecting before he has the chance to spit out an excuse, whatever it may be, “Yes—this is what I do now.”

So much for anonymity, he thinks.

Just like that, his entire vacation had soured.

And for you, it was the only sliver of peace you had here.

Gone. Vanished.

You watch his walk of quiet shame as he glances over his shoulder briefly before boarding the elevator, his jaw tense and tight as you lock eyes, doors closing slowly before you release a breath you didn’t realize you were still holding.

Fuck.

It was time to take your fifteen.

–

You liked Fridays because it meant relaxation—and drinks, beachside and under the soft, soothing tune of whatever was playing through the bar speakers, the crash of waves on the shore and a misty spray that kissed your skin, sipping silently at your drink as your finger circles the wet ring on the surface of the table.

The sun was setting by now, a few hours since you hated spoken or seen Javier Peña.

It was hitting you now, realizing you never quite processed how hard the lay off had been to process, how blindsided you had been, or how little appreciation was shown in the aftermath.

Right—it only mattered if your name meant something, if it was attached.

You were like mice, rats—taught and trained, scattering to find evidence and intel, return and filter it through your superiors and still somehow manage to not get murdered or discovered in the process and all the while, expected to complete your paperwork on time.

You were used to people taking the credit from you, but with Javier, it was different.

He had a way of making you feel special; always calling you by name, never letting you feel inferior when he needed something, making sure to comment on your appearance in a respectful manner, greet you like you’ve been friends for ages, a mere effort to keep up with his title.

But, you had built a strange kinship over long late night stake-outs, shared nonsensical details about your life - like how you despised the taste of liquor but toughed it out for the sweet aftertaste, enjoyed drinks for the aesthetics rather than the feeling.

Javier was a messy eater, too. Not careless, but rather ravaging. He’d tear into his fruit like an animal finding the first spec of food in a week, juices covering his fingers and oblivious to the obscene sounds he’d make as he chewed, sucked, and licked. It was irritating, but inherently him. He didn’t like music much either, opting for silence instead. It drove you insane on particularly long nights.

It didn’t matter that you had shared nights in each other’s apartments, grueling over dead-ends and lackluster information, sharing meals that would end with both of you falling asleep in heaps, never mentioning them as you woke.

Neither of you had ever crossed that line, too vehemently aware of his title.

Both professional and rumored.

So, when he was the one who signed off after you were ordered out of the office, badge and gun returned by end of day, you didn’t know how to react.

And it was only as he resurfaced now, a year later, that you find all of those bottled up feelings and resentments boiling at the surface.

“Osita,” You hear him greet with an estranged fondness, hating the way it rolls off his tongue like it was normal, “you’ve changed.”

You sip on your drink with disregard, hearing the silent squeak as he takes his seat a couple seats away and orders a plain tequila - nothing fancy, just liquor and a glass.

“Actually, make that a double,” He adds, tapping his wallet idly against the surface of the table as he waits, offering a reserved thank you as the two glasses are slid in front of him.

You pointedly turn away, hoping the fleeing sun and shifting color of the sky; a soft oceanic blue into tangerine skies and the flock of seagulls circling overhead. Unfortunately, it isn’t enough to block out Javier, who when he needs or wants something, is going to get it.

And currently, it was your attention.

“You know that was never my decision,” He deflects, “I’m fed a list and if I don’t sign it I look like I’m not willing to do my job, if I could have suggested they take you off—”

“You should have,” You bite, “if you felt so passionately about it, but as all things go in Peña’s world–if it doesn’t hurt you, then who cares, correct?”

You had only ever known Javier as the serious figurehead above you, not the one of tales told by co-workers, how mischievous he used to be, how daring. Los Pepes had really done a number on him apparently.

“I’m trying to apologize, alright?” He offers weakly - and Jesus, when had he downed the first glass of tequila in the time you had started talking to him? He quickly throws back the second glass and pushes them aside, “I came here because I heard it was a good place to disappear, that I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone knowing my name—and you just happened to be here, I’m not trying to invade, but I’m sure we can just…exist around each other for a weekend.”

When it came down to it, you knew there wasn’t much Javier could have done—sure, a word or two would have been nice in your defense, given how closely you two had worked together toward the end of your career in Colombia, but even then it assumedly wouldn’t have done any good.

You received a good pension and are living nicely now, making enough money to live comfortably somewhat off the grid—you could hold a grudge, it was easy. But, you don’t.

“Yeah,” You offer lamely, “apology accepted, can you leave me alone now?”

“I retired,” Javier slips as he shifts in his seat, “thought you should know.”

This motherfucker—he knew how to reel you in; hook, line, sinker.

“You? Retired?” You scoff, “Who roped you into that? Is someone blackmailing you?”

Javier makes a face of incredulous disbelief, “Blackmail—the fuck? No. I got tired of all of it, all the work we’re doing and half of the government is under the cartel’s dominion. From one extreme to another and there was no change in sight, it was pointless.”

He wasn’t wrong; you constantly put your life on the line for a cause, fruitless and impossible to change, it was like chasing your own tail half the time.

As you finish up your drink you order a beer politely, the bartender offering a flirty smile that Javier catches with a keen eye, but he files it away for another time. The subtle buzz of alcohol was already filtering through your head as you sip from the beer slid into your hand and Javier makes a motion with his finger, ordering a third drink.

“I see you haven’t changed,” You comment slyly.

“You either,” He remarks, eyes shifting toward the bartender.

As much as Javier had his indulgences, so had you.

It was unspoken how you both hid the trauma and stress under alcohol and sex, just never with each other, but this - Javier was reading it completely wrong.

“Oh, gross,” You grimace in disgust, “He’s a friend and I’m almost certain I am not his type.”

As the words leave your mouth, your friend approaches Javier with a third drink, mirroring his earlier actions with you but adding a subtle once-over with his eyes, admiring Javier’s toned physique and tanned skin, years of chasing after cartel members keeping him fit.

Though, his posture is slacking, slumped in his seat as he works on the third glass of tequila, still dressed in his earlier attire and it almost transports you back to the nights spent in his car, a glass of liquor tucked between his legs and his phone and binoculars resting on his thighs.

“Please tell me you brought more than just…that,” You inquired, eyes pointedly dragging over his figure in a less subtle manner, “like—actual vacation clothes?”

“There’s nothing wrong with this,” Javier defends, a confident smirk gracing his face as his hands spread over his knees and curls, gulping down the last sip of alcohol, “it’s fine—ladies love it.”

“Sure, if you’d like to stay stuck in the eighties for the rest of your life,” You jest, “I just—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in shorts, actually…I don’t think I’ve ever seen how you dress outside of work.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love to know,” He teases, watching as you wobbled to your feet and grabbed your wallet and room key, “wait—you’re leaving already?”

“Yes,” You answer blatantly, “I don’t need you pestering me the rest of the night when I could spend it alone, in my room, like I do every night.”

“That eager to run off, huh?” Javier retorts, “God, you must really hate me.”

“Since when do you care what I think about you?” You ask him, genuinely curious. “I haven’t seen you in over a year and you show up here and expect me to fall to my knees and worship you like I did back in Colombia? You’re not my boss anymore and we’re not chasing after drug lords. Go fuck yourself, Javi.”

Truthfully, Javier Peña was only a shell of what he used to be.

He’s softened, far less rigid than he used to carry himself. Working with his father had led him to live a quieter life, enjoy being around his family, and come to the realization that what didn’t want to be stopped, couldn’t be. He’s let things go, moved on, but for some reason—with you, he’s finding it difficult.

He grabs your wrist as you intend to walk past, standing from his seat and turning to you as your body shifts toward his, like being transported back to the work office with the buzz of noise and voices around you, blaming the alcohol in your system for the way your eyes linger on his face, blinking as you take a stumbling step back.

“At least let me walk you back to the inn,” He suggests.

“Worried I can’t handle myself?”

“No,” He answers quickly, fully aware of how easily you could, “I’m just—let me, alright?”

“Fine,” You relent after a long pause, “whatever, but—don’t talk. Your voice is annoying.”

“Oh? Is it?” He responds with a chuckle, quickly realizing that you had no intention to wait for him as you’re already fleeing by the time he turns around to grab his wallet, jogging to catch up with you.

“Keep up, Peña.” You mock him, a subtle grin on your face as you hear his rushing footsteps in the sand, “You’ve really let yourself go, huh?”

Javier scoffs in amusement at your words, but doesn’t answer.

For once, he listens and keeps his mouth shut.

–

You take the scenic route, unusual for you, but with Javier at your side you try to remind yourself to be a decent tour guide—he was here for a vacation after all. There were a few locally owned shops that you suggested for breakfast and souvenirs, home-grown and made with love.

He takes them into consideration, noticing how much lighter you sound as you talk, the alcohol taking your body hostage, aware of how little you needed to consume before you were spilling unnecessary information and giggling yourself into tears. But, in the current moment, it was a quaint relaxation that washed over.

The sun had set now, both of you traveling in the dark as you approached the inn. Javier shared very little about how life has been for him back home, more interested in hearing your stories about crazy guests and cute, older retired couples who needed a week away from the city.

“When I first got here I would spend all of my time in the water, or near it,” You admit, fishing for your keys without much luck, reaching your room on the first level of the inn, “it’s so nice here, Javi—I mean, you think about all the stuff we endured back in Colombia and you wonder how the fuck we survived and suddenly you’re relaxing on the beach like none of it ever mattered.”

“It’s hard to let that shit go,” Javier admits, “still…wakes me up at night, you know?”

You knew well, nodding solemnly as you fumble to find the correct key, swaying on your feet before Javier decides to put you out of your misery and step in, gently prying the keys from your hand as he sifts through to find one similar to his own before he hands it back, shaking your head in amusement as you laugh quietly.

“Still terrible at handling your liquor,” Javier comments, hands hovering around you as you stumble forward, ready to catch you if you fall, luckily you stay on your feet, “wait—do you like, live here? At the inn?”

“For a stretch of time, yeah,” You answer as you step into your room, immediately toeing off your shoes and turning on your heels, hand gripping the doorknob as you face him and rest the knob against your hip, staring him down from a couple inches away, the threshold forcing the distance, “I have a place further in town when we close down for a couple months—you worried about me, Peña?”

He can’t explain why his stomach clenches at the words, an instinct to agree swirling in his gut.

He’s thought about you since your departure, but as he moved back home and forced himself to let go of that part of his life, things had started to fray around the edges of his mind, slowly disappearing.

His non-answer is telling, analyzing your features like you’ve seen him down a hundred times. Usually it was for signs of deception or misleading information, constantly on edge of a possible mole or betrayal. He never fully trusted anyone, but he knows he never sensed that with you.

“I’m a big girl,” You assure him, “I can handle myself.”

“I know,” He replies, his right hand curling around his belt, thumb rubbing against the mix of denim and the leather band, his left hand rubbing over his mustache and chin, “so—I guess I’ll see you ‘round, then? If I don’t, I can’t say I’m upset—I got to see your face again.”

“Cute,” You smile genuinely, head tilting against the doorframe, “All’s forgiven, I guess. I think I’m starting to realize how much of that shit was out of your control.”

“You were a good partner,” He says lowly, a grit to his voice that makes your insides quiver, “If I had a say, you would’ve stuck around.”

His brown eyes were a dangerous weapon, his face softening into that boyish charm he liked to use on you when he needed something inconsequential; a coffee, something he’d forgotten at his desk, or when he needed you to pick up the snacks before a stakeout.

You were definitely going to regret your next words.

“A few friends of mine are having a bonfire tomorrow,” You tell him, “It’s small—but I think you’d enjoy it. Plus, Elio would murder me if I didn’t extend the invitation.”

“Elio?”

“You know,” You tease him, mocking the less than subtle grin and eye drag of your friend back at the bar that makes Javier chuckle, “that Elio. The Peña charm works down here in Hawaii too, I guess. He usually cuts people off after two drinks.”

“It’s about all you can handle,” Javier retorts, your relaxed, drunkish grin growing as you shove weakly at his chest, his hand winding around your wrist with ease, less urgent this time.

Your eyes drag to the touch, lingering for a moment as Javier’s thumb rubs against the inside of your wrist, the rhythmic thrum of your pulse under the surface as your mouth salivates.

You hadn’t felt that touch in months, a gesture that shouldn’t hold so much weight, but brings you back to the constant idiotic decisions you would make with no regard for your safety.

As reckless as you knew Javier to be prior to Escobar’s death, he had changed somewhere between then and when he met you, his touch was the only thing that grounded you in many high stress situations and instances when you felt impulsive - impatient.

But, this touch—it’s different.

“I’m not inviting you in, Javi,” You tell him steadily, eyes still locked on your wrist as his are on your face, “I do still have some respect for you—us, whatever that was before.”

“Sleep well, chiquita,” He says after a beat, turning your wrist in his hand as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand and departs for the elevator, leaving you in a drunken haze.

You almost change your mind, opening your mouth to beg him to stay.

The words never come out.

–

You never told him the exact details of where the bonfire was happening, but as he peeks out of his window the following night - forcing himself to spend the entire day away from you rather than sniffing around for you like a lost, helpless puppy - the fire was enough of a tell.

And you knew you wouldn’t need to tell him, either.

Elio is smirking as he glances over your shoulder, the soft tuft of sand shifting behind you as you peer up, finding a shockingly dressed-down version of Javier sans his tinted sunglasses that were almost a trademark to his look, sitting perfectly on his aquiline nose.

“So, you do have legs,” You tease, catching a glimpse of his uncovered shins as he takes a seat beside you on the towel laid over the sand, greeting your friends politely and shaking hands as they approach him, nodding as one of them shoves a beer into his hand.

“Thank you—” He only processes your words after his first sip, brow furrowing in confusion, “hold up, what the hell does that mean?”

“I’d almost believe you were some type of robot if I hadn’t,” You joke lightly, the teasing falling completely flat as Javier glances down at his legs and bare feet, “sorry–bad…bad joke, it was something people used to say around the office. You never took a break, people thought you were some kind of machine or something.”

“You have not changed,” Javier reminisces, shaking his head with a chuckle to match.

It was your turn to share in the confusion, waving goodbye to a few friends who were wandering off for the night, shooting him a similar expression.

“Fumbling over your words, bad jokes, terrible conversation—”

“Oh, fuck you, Javi,” You shove his shoulder and he chuckles louder, “I can still kick your ass,”

“I don’t doubt it,” He agrees, sharing a brief exchange of eyes that makes your face heat and you’re internally willing the feeling of adoration away.

Not him, not now.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You ask in an effort to change the subject, “Only about twelve hours left, right?”

“And I’m sure you’ve got your countdown going,” Javier remarks, “It’s been good—needed it more than I realized, it’s so fuckin’ quiet out here.”

As your mouth opens, you catch sight of your friend who had been particularly interested in speaking to Javier—or more specially, Javier Peña. “Oh, right,” You interject, introducing him to your coworker turned friend, “he had a few questions about Escobar, figured you wouldn’t mind answering them.”

Javier didn’t necessarily mind, but he knows you’re doing it to irritate him.

As his attention turns away from you, you turn toward Elio who was relaxing nearby, talking amongst a few of his own friends but still vehemently aware of your presence, “If you two don’t just fuck each other already,” He remarks with a flippant, dismissive smile, “—missed opportunity, seriously.”

“Mind your business,” You retorted with no bite.

He shrugs in a matter-of-fact way before disappearing as Javier turns to you again, distraction gone as you meet him with a smile, “I’m gonna walk the beach for a bit.”

“Is that an invitation?” Javier inquires, casually you reach for his hand and tug him along.

The silence that grows as you walk alongside each other vaguely resembles the comfort that those late nights would bring, the gentle ambience of crashing waves that wash over your feet and the low roar of a boat engine as it passes by.

“They’re still trading,” Javier beings offhandedly, “—right in my fuckin’ Pop’s backyard.”

“Boats?” You surmise, never having sniffed out that type of activity on the island, relatively clean from the cartel’s reach. “There’s too many hands in the mix, you know? You were never going to stop that on your own.”

“Tried,” Javier retorts grimly, “Just ended up chasing my own damn tail in the end.”

Eventually, you find a spot closer to the inn - an incline in the sand that you both move to sit and perch, far enough away from the shore that you don't have to worry about getting wet.

“You made the right choice,” You assure him, “I think some of that resentment was only aimed at you, not necessarily my job. I’m happier here, but you—I just—”

Javier’s eyebrows raise in encouragement for you to finish, unsettlingly quiet.

“I think I was starstruck for a time, seeking your approval,” You admit, “but then I realized that we don’t mesh. We work well, but outside of that…I couldn’t match up with the others.”

It was a kinder way of saying that you didn’t like the locker room talk that happened often among his colleagues, often on the outskirts as you listen to them dig into the nitty gritty details that were never work appropriate, bragging and talking over one another. Javier was usually subdued, but he did occasionally make comments that reminded you exactly why you swore of men like him or them.

“You know what I appreciate about you,” Javier begins after a dragging silence, your eyes locking on him curiously, “You didn’t need the approval to do a good job, you just did it.”

It was easy with you.

Regardless of how badly you did want the recognition.

“A thank you would have been nice.”

Javier cracks a weak smile, swiping a few grains of sand from your knee before he squeezes your leg and offers a genuine, “Thank you.”

It was better than nothing, you suppose.

“Also, serious question,” Javier interjects quickly, “What did you mean by mesh?”

You turn to him with a bigger grin, raising your finger to press against the center of his chest, between his unbuttoned neckline, “You - are not my type. At all.”

Javier guffaws at that, genuine disbelief, “I’m everyone’s type.”

“Good thing I don’t have one.”

“C’mon—not even once?” Javier presses, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

You almost considered letting him inside of your room the first night he arrived, some half-assed excuse about respect that Javier knows you could care less about, more-so setting a boundary for yourself, reminding you that this wasn’t something you should allow yourself to have.

Javier was enough of a gentleman to respect that and throughout the entirety of your partnership, had never attempted to make things weird, despite how he may feel.

You were beautiful and he could tell you that to your face, a striking personality and witty humor to match—and he’s never prided himself on respecting the rule about workplace relationships, having dabbled in enough bad behavior with interns and receptionists that filtered through.

You scared him—not in a bad way. But, Javier’s never been quite so intimidated.

“Let me change your mind,” Javier says jokingly.

There’s a brief flicker as he says it, a blip of miscommunication before you realize his tone and you pray Javier moves on—of course, he doesn’t.

“Let me,” He tries again, his voice softer as you find your bodies gravitating toward each other, his hand nudging your chin up like he’s done it before, a practiced motion before your lips are pressing together gently, a small noise behind Javier’s closed lips as you return the gesture tentatively, “I’ll give you a reason to change it, chiquita.”

“Javi,” You plead, not asking for more or less, but rather begging for an excuse; a reason to deny him or a thousand ways this could go badly for the both of you, “we shouldn’t—”

His hand slides down your cheek to your neck, guiding your chin up to allow room for his mouth at your neck, placing wet and open-mouthed kisses against your skin as your fingers wrap around his wrist, a sigh pushing out of your throat as you relax under his touch.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to—”

“Don’t,” You interject quickly, sounding breathless, “don’t say that—just…stop talking.”

Javier chuckles, nosing his way up the side of your face before his eyes peek open, locking with your own as his right hand drifts down your neck to your waist and squeezes, pulling you in with a cocky grin, “Tell me to stop touching you, then.”

“You haven’t changed,” You retorted fondly, the tiniest trace of venom in your tone.

The lack of acknowledgement to his direct command makes his grin grow stronger.

The exchange of lips gains an edge of intensity as your hands reach for him almost on instinct, his right leg slotting between yours where they were spread, a hand wrapping around your thigh as he moves over you, back pressing against the sand while your own hand moves along the back of his neck and through his hair at the nape.

You sigh into his mouth, lips parting as his tongue traces teasingly and slides along your own, silently pushing at the loose fabric of your shirt as it moves up your abdomen, the gentle breezing hitting your skin and you make a small noise, your own fingers curling around the collar of his shirt, fingers fanning out over the tanned, freckled skin of his shoulder.

“Forget the bed,” Javier huffs against your lips, “let’s do it right here.”

You giggle at his insistence and shake your head, nose rubbing against his with the motion as you part, hand against his chest to force some distance as he sits back with a flushed expression, similar to how he’d look after a foot chase but his eyes darkened with pleasure.

“You can’t be serious?” You inquire, a boyish shrug of his shoulders as his teeth peek through his smile, hearing the faint chatter of friends a distance away, both of you perfectly hidden from view. Still, you weren’t that reckless.

“Still have that whole respect thing for us going on?” Javier teases, eyes flicking briefly toward the darkened inn, most of the patrons already tucked in for the night.

You roll your eyes with an obvious fondness as you shove him away, moving to your feet as you brush the sand away, casually holding out your hand as he mirrors your actions, “Not tonight.”

You were almost positive you would regret it later, but for now, you acted on the impulsivity.

–

Javier was as eager as you expect, on you the moment your door clicks shut, holding you close as you stumble backward into the bathroom and flick on the light, equally trading touches as he strips you naked without a word, down to your underwear before you can push him away for long enough to turn on the water.

He strips as you adjust the temperature, “Be honest, was it because I was your boss?”

You give him a look of irritation that is quickly quelled by his touch, wet hand fumbling to grip his shoulder as he strips you down to nothing, stepping quietly out of your panties as he drags them down your thigh, tilting your head down as he stays kneeled for a moment.

“Not even close,” You remark, feeling the emphasis of his intention with every press of his lips; one at your shin, knee, two on each thigh before he presses one gentle kiss at your mound, his bottom lip catching against your skin as he slowly moves to stand again.

Javier strips himself the rest of the way as you step inside of the hot shower, closing your eyes as you wet your hair under the gentle spray, his lips attaching to your throat as he climbs inside and shuts the curtain, hands pressed against the curves of your body, cradling you.

You shiver despite the warmth of the water, your skin tingling everywhere Javier touches. His hands roam your body with a reverence that makes your breath catch.

"Then why?" he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and husky.

You turn in his arms, pressing your body flush against his. Water cascades over both of you as you look up into his dark eyes, clouded with desire.

"Because I knew if we did, it would only make things worse,” You admit, “Sex always complicates things, I like how he worked together without it.”

“Well,” He chuckles, both hands spreading out over your back and down to your ass, gasping at the way he squeezes so greedily, teeth digging into your skin gently, “we’re not partners anymore.”

“No,” You breathe out in a shaky attempt at grounding yourself, his hardened cock nudging at your stomach, “we’re not.”

Javier’s hand slides lower, wrapping around the back of your knee as he guides you back against the cold tile wall in the tight space, gasping at the cool to touch surface and the hand that hikes your leg up, Javier’s foot raising to rest along the edge of the tub.

The hand not occupying your knee slides teasingly between your folds, releasing a shaky sigh as you tilt your head back, the water soaking Javier as it hits his back, dripping down his hair and along his nose, carefully examining the subtle changes in your expression as his fingers graze your clit before he slips his middle finger inside of you, hooking the digit in a way that has you squeezing your hands as they reach for his shoulder.

“Tell me you want this,” He growls, an inflection in his voice you’ve heard before but have never felt aimed at you. It makes your head spin, suddenly dizzy.

Instinctively still, you know what to say.

“I do. I want this. Want you, Javi.”

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, all the pent-up desire from months of working together finally unleashed. You reach for his cock, taking a moment to admire him. It shouldn’t strike you how endowed he is, thick and resting just at his belly button, a couple inches more than you’ve ever encountered before and cut, a protruding vein running along the side of his cock from his shaft to just underneath the head of his cock, running your thumb along the ridge and over the weeping slit, suddenly dying for a taste as your mouth watered.

Javier was too impatient, though.

There’s a exchange of unspoken communication, a simple and subtle head nod as Javier fists his cock, rubbing the head between your folds before he pushes inside of you, a palm flat against his chest as you hiss at the faint sting, a stretch you weren't accustomed to and the nails that dig into his skin shouldn’t turn him on like they do, but he leans into it, shallow thrusts inside of your cunt until he’s fully sheathed and your fingernails are biting into his skin, tiny rivulets of blood washed away by the water overhead.

Javier’s movements are slow and deliberate, using the leverage of your unsteady position as you stretch onto your toes of the foot still pressed against the floor of the shower, the other leg held tight at his hip as he fucked into, careless of the water splashing to the floor where the curtain was set askew by his knee pressing into the fabric.

"God, you feel so good," he groans against your skin, his voice rough with desire. "So tight, so perfect. Knew you’d be perfect.”

“H—how - fuck - how often have you thought about this?” You ask, licking away the droplet of water from your lips as Javier smiles, the kind that only carried mischief, as he noses at your neck.

“Every damn day,” Javier admits, lips dragging along your ear as he fucks you with a newfound furiosity, “—mierda, she’s squeezin’ me so tight—all the time. At the office, those late nights in the car. Thought about—fuck, jus’ bending you over the trunk and fucking you there.”

His hips snap into you with force, driving you back against the tile wall. A gasp rips from your throat, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you on earth, scrambling as you slipped but Javier is already there, steadying as he adjust his position to lock your legs at hips, suspended in his hold as his cock brushed deep inside of you, eyes rolling back.

“All you needed was some attention,” Javier surmises, “someone to tell you how good of a job you were doing, right?”

It would have been nice during your tenure, but now, it feels taunting.

“You’re good,” Javier tells you, “so fuckin’ good—”

“Oh, god,” You moan, hands tangling into his wet hair as his lips find your neck again, the faintest scratch of stubble against your skin, teeth nipping at your skin as he drives his hips into you relentlessly, “Jav—Javi, please—”

“That’s it, baby,” He groans, a soft release of breath, “let me hear you.”

The deep, coiling heat in your belly twists as he presses you tight against the wall, releasing your leg haphazardly to drag his thumb over your clit, the franticness of his movement matching his desperate need for release as he moves his finger in quick, hurried circles over your clit.

Your soft cries are muffled by his cheek as you press your mouth against him, drawn so close that it was near suffocating, “S’right there, Javi—I’m close,”

His groan is deep, hips stuttering with your words, “Where?”

Your eyes connect for a stretch of time - another unspoken acknowledgement as you tug at his hair, walls squeezing tight around his cock and nod, his jaw clenching as his orgasm approaches and he brings you with him.

It’s a sensation that makes your body go taut, his hips slowing as he pushes his seed deep inside of you, moaning brokenly into your shoulder as he eventually pulls out and lowers you back on steady ground.

"Fuck," Javier mutters, breathing heavily as he pushes away from you and notices your sated expression, a subtle smile pulling at your features. There's a softness in his face you've never seen before, a vulnerability.

You continue the shower in a comfortable silence as you both settle, like a well-oiled machine with how easily you both move around each other and with, watching as Javier quietly pushes the damp washcloth between your legs and cleans up the mess he’s made.

As you dress, he’s more subdued. Solemn. Brooding.

This was the Javier you remembered so well.

He’s waiting for the words, fingers working slowly at the buttons of his shirt before you fingers wrap around his wrist, dressed in a thin satin slip you had pulled from your drawers, sticking to your wet skin in all the places Javier’s touched, the remnants of his touch still stuck on your mind.

“Stay,” You insist—watching as he succumbed so easily to your touch, shirt half-buttoned and hanging from his frame, “if you want.”

Nobody ever asks him to stay, always on the other end, begging for a moment longer.

For me, your eyes plead.

For the night, he knows.

But, the words strike deep.

“You’re gonna make it impossible to leave,” Javier comments, smiling at the giggle you let out.

“Good,” You tease him, dragging out the syllable, “more of an excuse to come back.”

Not for his own selfish reasoning.

For you, Javier tells himself.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #narcos #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #my writing #wttschallenge2025

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wayward-dreamer · 2 days ago

Text

Secret

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

WC: ~1.1K

Summary: You and Joel try not to push the short window of time you have together before Sarah comes home. (no outbreak!au).

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, smut: dirty talk, implied (f rec) oral sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it up people), couch sex. Lots of fluff.

A/N: Not sure why it's taken me so long to post a Joel fic, but here we are. I was in my pre/no outbreak domestic Joel feels and this happened. Enjoy! <3

follow @wayward-dreamers-library for notifications of when I post.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

Especially not at this time of day, late afternoon sun rays filtering in from between the blinds and warming your skin. Sarah would be home soon from a friend’s after school, and so would Tommy, no doubt asking his brother why he had left the work site so early. As Joel’s hands softly trailed down your body, rough fingers tugging down the cup of your lace bra and deftly rolling the stiff peak to make that little gasp he loved so much escape your mouth, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. Not now, not with how he was making you feel. Not when his hard cock was buried deep inside you, pressing that sweet spot that drove you insane, his hips thrusting up from the couch to meet yours as they rolled against him in a deliciously slow pace.

You should’ve changed things up, should’ve started bouncing on his dick in order to chase the release and beat the clock, get out of his house with enough time. And yet, you couldn’t.

With his head resting against your chest where your blouse was unbuttoned, rising and falling with each harsh pant from you, his skillful tongue circling your nipple, your hands combing through his dark strands and holding him close – you could never rush this.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, heading lifting up to stare deep into your eyes, his pulled up into a smirk as he saw how dark they had become. “Feel so good, this pussy of yours knows how to treat me right, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around him.

His own came around you as you straddled him, his rough-from-hand-labor palms pressed into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you close, forehead leaning on yours as he gazed into your eyes. Your lips met his in a searing kiss, moans from each of you as tongues mingled and sent shivers down your spine as it added to the pleasure coursing through your whole being. His heavy hand cupped your cheek briefly, peering at you through hooded eyelids as his thumb slipped between your lips, your saliva coating the calloused digit before releasing it with a wet pop. A loud moan fell from you instantly as he brought his hand between your undulating bodies, stroking your clit in precise circles, pushing you closer to that blissful peak once more for the day. His fingers and talented tongue had already done their job very well twice, and it wasn’t going to be much longer before he managed to bring you that euphoria again.

“J-Joel, baby, I-I-” you stuttered, a wanton moan cutting off your incoherent speech.

“I know,” he breathed, his voice rough as he looked up at you with those brown orbs you often got lost in. “Ride me, show me what those hips can do, darlin’. Take what you need…”

You rocked harder and faster against him, relishing the burn in your upper thighs just as much as the delectable sting of your walls contracting with each thrust of his impressive girth. The initial leisurely pace kept your release at bay, but the pressure that built low in your belly was too much now; the barrier holding the dam back threatened to break quickly.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” his deep timbre rumbled against your collarbone as he left small bites up to your neck. “Cum for me, darlin’, want you to soak my cock.”

His thumb flicked over the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs a few more times, before a sharp cry of his name escaped you as he pushed you over the edge. A hard tug of his hair between your fingers and your wetness coating him was his undoing, a strangled grunt against your jaw making you mewl in response as you felt his cum fill you up.

A deep, satisfied sigh left him as he sat back, cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a long, passionate kiss. You grabbed his jaw in both hands and pulled him in, the embrace growing deeper as you kept him from tearing his lips away from yours. You were both testing the limits of how much time you had left, knowing very well that you were cutting it close.

You were strangely used to the secrecy, having been meeting like this or one his job sites, your apartment or occasionally your own workplace, for months since he first asked you out at the bar where you met. With anyone else you would’ve questioned if they were serious about you, but not Joel. The man was telling you about his daughter on the first date, explaining how most women got spooked by that fact within the first hour previously. You told him you didn’t scare easy, with the hope to meet her when things got serious between you.

As he laid back against the sofa, smiling up at you as his hands roamed over your skin and reignited the flame within that burned for him and only him, your own palms sliding up and down his broad chest, you knew he was your person. You knew from the way he looked at you, touched you, cared for you. You saw your future in those deep brown eyes you found yourself falling madly in love with. You held your tongue with that confession, knowing it wasn’t the time just yet.

You redressed as quickly as you could, pulling down your pencil skirt from around your waist and buttoned your blouse back up, your work attire completely disheveled from the rigorous love-making on his leather couch. You felt his gaze on you as you collected your belongings, biting back a huge smile as his arms came around you from behind.

“I’m gonna tell her soon,” he informed you, his tone firm and sure. “This weekend. She’s not going off to any of her friend’s, not that I know of, so it’s a good time to do it.”

“Really?” you asked, letting out a shaky breath.

He sensed your nerves, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against your temple.

“She’s gonna love you. I know it.”

You turned in his arms, finally beaming up at him as you pushed yourself into him, kissing him fiercely. A car door closing had you pulling away quickly, slipping your feet back into your heels before walking to the back door as he followed you.

“I’ll call you,” he promised, pecking your lips through the open door.

With one last, sneaky kiss you left, heart beating wildly as you thought about the possibilities for your future with the most wonderful man you had ever known.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #the last of us au #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fanfiction

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purplereina11 · 2 days ago

Text

Based on this request

Warnings: Smut

Your classic enemies to lovers

Chelseas number 1 goalkeeper breaks the highest transfer fee to join Barcelona where she becomes teammates with Aitana Bonmati who had nothing nice to say in there last champions league meeting

______________________________________________________________

You were stood in the tunnel at Stamford Bridge the who’s who of women’s football around you, to your left Barcelona Captain Alexia Putellas, fully focused on the task in hand to name one of many. Champions League nights were special. You heard every player say the same that was lucky enough to get to play Champions League football. It was the one trophy that left an empty space in your trophy cabinet. It was a hole you looked at every time you were home every year when it slipped through your finger tips the desire to win it grew more and more.

“Y/N” You looked over your shoulder at your goalkeeper coach calling your name, he held up a towel and you shook your head you already had one in hand. Your eyes wandered along the Barcelona line up trying to remember all the studying you’d been doing for yet another meeting with the European Giants, both teams dominate in there respective leagues, they’d won the champions league however. Something Chelsea had yet to achieve.

Your eyes found a pair staring right at you, multi decorated Midfielder Aitana Bonmati, your face stayed stoic as she attempted to stare you out, “I score past you tonight” she mouthed, you got a shit eating grin at the comment before turning your head back where Millie Bright seeing the interaction gave you a stiff nod

“We’ll see” you muttered to yourself, your pride wouldn’t allow her to score past you now after the arrogance was projected towards you, you were billed as the worlds best goalkeeper your ego couldn’t allow it, two greats in there position in the sport, you had to come out on top.

You took a deep breath as the music kicked in and put one foot in front of the other out into a packed out stamford bridge, it would be a nightmare to find your family after the final whistle. But you remained focused on the task ahead, the handshakes went by with no drama, Aitana keeping her comments to herself but making sure to hold eye contact as she passed. You had watched a lot of tapes but it had you thinking you should study whether she did this with every goal keeper before the game to try and sit rent free in there heads.

“They will press high, we know that, they will have a lot of possession, we know that. If we are strong in defence and midfield and we ride the wave, our times will come” Millie started, “We need to be clean and clinical and make most of the chances we get, we can do this team! Blues on three”

“Blues” you called and headed down to your goal for the first half in front of the Barcelona fans who travelled in droves, who were loud passionate and up for a night of football under the lights.

Barcelona came out the blocks quickly it was wave after wave of attacks and shots, you and your defence managed well, they had shots on target but so far none had crossed the line. The Chelsea crowd were fired up after some world class saves from you which was keeping Chelsea in this first leg, you read the game like no other goal keeper from your position. You were in constant communication with your defence making sure they were all on the same page and it paid off you got to half time nil - nil.

You were walking across the pitch as the subs flooded off the benches balls at there feet, you were juggling your towel and water bottle too busy in your head to notice a certain Spanish midfielder had slowed her pace in front of you to let you catch up. “You good” You rose her eyes, “Shame you play for losers”

You found the amusing side, just nodding, “Ok”

“It a fluke” She carried on, “You can’t keep that up in the second half. You loose like you always do, we’re better than you”

You went walking by staring at her as she got to the tunnel Millie Bright waiting, she knew you had a fiery side when pushed and it seemed Aitana was on a mission to push you, “You’ll actually have to have a shot on target next half then” Aitana the only player who got shots off to not get them on target that half, you stared the shorter player down as Millie smacked your back as you went walking by, and into the home dressing room to your manager really pleased with your performance.

You took your seat and tried to not let Aitana in your head, were they better than you? They had beat you every time you’d come up against each other. But you weren’t the same keeper they met in the final a few years back or even last year. You’d got your nutrition right, you’d leaned up gotten stronger your confidence growing and making your abilities grow. You were spoken about as the current best goalkeeper in the world so why was she affecting your mood and confidence.

It was bothering you but you could do nothing to stop her having the effect from two small interactions, there were little ear worms whispering all your insecurities to you during the 15 minute break. As you came back out for an important 45 minutes jogging towards the goal behind the home fans cheering you, you smiled clapping them.

She turned and there was Millie Bright pointing to her head to tell you to get out of it, she knew you too well.

45 seconds later however you had your back to the box hands on hips staring at the Chelsea crowd booing the penalty decision, you shook your head to yourself, as you spun there was Aitana yet again. “All that hard work for your defence to ruin it in 45 seconds” You just held eye contact as you walked by, “Shame”

You motioned with your hand for Aitana to keep talking, “Get the fuck out my box” The referee removed the players from the box as Alexia was placing the ball the referee felt the need to remind you your feet had to be on the line. You bounced around on the line stretching your arms up as you racked your brain from all your studying which way she was more likely to go.

The noise was deafening when you went the right way and swallowed the ball up saving the penalty, “Will you stop antagonising her, it’s making her better” Alexia said to Aitana who looked over her shoulder as she jogged away

“Fuck off” you yelled to no one in particular fully fired up for the next 45 minutes, you were set for a ground breaking clean sheet and draw against Barcelona when yet again a penalty was awarded, you were fizzing it was stupid; reckless, and when a different face stepped up to take the penalty and it went soaring past you even though you went the right way. You were done.

You lay on the grass where you fell stared up at the sky the face you saw was Millie’s offering her hands to get you up.

You knew soon as the restart was taken the whistle would blow so you started gathering your things and sure enough as you started walking out your box there was the whistle.

You slapped the hands of the Barcelona girls Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze stopped you to talk to you. You managed a smile but it soon faded as Aitana was making her way over she greeted both her teammates before turning her attention to you.

“Don’t start” you almost pleaded you weren’t in the humour for what she had to say, Keira and Lucy’s faces were a picture having missed the comments previously made.

Aitana smirked, “Told you we’d win”

“No you said you’d score past me which you never” you were looking down slightly at the shorter women in close proximity.

“You’re defence screwed you”

“I’m aware”

“You need to make big chances before you come for the second leg in Barca”

“I don’t need to do anything” you looked to your England teammates bid them a goodbye but as you started to leave, she of course just had to follow you.

“You need to sort your back line out” you ignored her comment but she said it again, “You need to sort your back line out”

You turned and faced the Ballon d’or winner, “I don’t need to sort anything, she made one mistake and we paid for it, we’re human it happens.” You pulled the locker room door open, “Just go away go celebrate you won yay!”

“Y/N”

You sighed turning back to her, “What?”

“You should come play for Barca”

You screwed your face, “Oh fuck off” your eyes met her captains tapping her side in a silent plea to come away.

“I’m being serious, come play for the winners”

“Broke Barca can’t afford me” you said before going in side the door letting it close behind you, “What the fuck was that?” You yelled into the locker room, you weren’t happy at Chelsea that much was obvious. Despite being top of your league and seemingly unbeatable you felt disjointed from your team. You weren’t appreciated here that much was obvious.

There was an uneasy air in the locker room constantly everyone had there ego everyone thought they were the sole reason for success. Fingers were quick to be pointed.

“You should of saved that penalty”

You stared at your teammate, “I did! Then you fucking gave away another for no reason! They had 45 shots on target the only one to go in was because of your mistake, this ain’t on me!”

This was the game when you got home, you expressed to your agent you needed to get out. You instructed him in the upcoming transfer window to put feelers out. You couldn’t play in this environment anymore. You needed out.

As you were preparing a bag to catch a plane to Barcelona for a medical Aitana was hearing the rumbling rumours around training and it put her in a mood.

“What?” Aitana asked hearing what she thought she heard and needed clarification

“Y/N” Alexia spoke, “She’s coming here for a medical”

Aitana shook her head, “No” Alexia laughed as her friend started walking away

“What do you mean no?”

“She should stay in London we don’t need her here”

Alexia laughed at her comment, “What are you talking about of course we do!” Alexia jogged after her, “Why do you have a problem with her?”

“Don’t like her”

“Why?” Alexia smiled at Aitana, “It makes no sense”

“Just don’t, she’s cocky”

“I think she can be with how good she is” Alexia put her arm around Aitana’s neck, “If she does come here, play nice, if you get past the wall, she’s lovely”

“What do you mean if?”

“Keira and I spoke to her this morning, we’re not the only club that has put an offer in”

“In Spain?”

“No, the world, Cata is out Aitana she’s the best replacement, we need her the other two don’t have the experience we need for the big competitions”

“Why did you speak to her?”

“Barca want her, they wanted me to try to persuade her”

“Did they offer enough money?”

“I don’t know Aita, that’s not something i would be involved in”

You shocked the world when Barcelona announced your signing with them on the closing day of the transfer window that had up until that point had been relatively quiet and uneventful. There had been no rumours, no idea, you hadn’t even been reported on wanting to leave you were never apart of the transfer window conversations. It had been kept so under wraps even some of your new and former teammates had no idea.

The rumours quickly circulated. You were the highest paid goal keeper in the world. Highest reported transfer fee not only for a goalkeeper but for a female player which was groundbreaking for the position.

You were obviously a bit nervous on your first day but the staff were lovely and the players you’d met were just as nice and welcoming. You were hugging old friend Ellie Roebuck when a voice behind you spoke, “We had enough money for you then i see”

You took a breath as you turned and there was the slighter frame of Aitana, you couldn’t help the amused little smirk as her hand extended to you. “Seems so” you gripped her hand shook it neither of you wanting to break eye contact it seemed, it was a power move.

“Welcome”

“Thank you”

Aitana loosened her hand from yours as Ellie stood as a passenger to the rollercoaster of nice to angst once again, feeling like she was intruding. “Let’s hope we get our moneys worth out of you then”

You laughed gently, “There she is, always a comment”

Aitana was walking away and made yet another comment, “Someones got to keep that big head of yours under control”

“Aita” you heard a voice come from the locker room she was entering say in a warning tone almost like they were defending you not that you knew the voice.

You and Aitana made your team laugh over your first couple of weeks together at the team one of you always had a comment. Alexia said you were like an old married couple always bickering, you just wish you could divorce out of this weird dynamic you’d grown used to.

You had your head in your hands in the canteen, you were reading over your Spanish lesson homework over and over again but it just wasn’t going in. You were never good at languages at school, you just didn’t have that brain for it. You forgot the english words for things a lot of the time let alone another languages translation.

You sighed then froze when a cup of tea was placed just on the edge of your vision, you rose her eyes as Aitana was lowering onto the seat opposite you. “Struggling?”

You leant your chin on her hands, “That obvious?”

Aitana actually cracked a smile something that caused you to smile, “You were staring at the same question when i was in here 20 minutes ago”

You rolled your eyes at yourself, “Thanks for the tea” you grasped the mug in both hands raising it to your lips

“May not of made it right, I’ve never made tea before today”

You took a sip and it warmed you through, settling the anger brewing at yourself for not even understanding the basics “It’s perfect thank you”

Aitana dragged the sheet from between your elbows on the table reading over it, “This is quite simple”

“You speak Spanish!” You defended yourself with a laugh of disbelief, “Of course it’s quite simple to you”

Aitana pointed, “What’s this?”

“Hello”

Aitana gave her a unamused look, “No. In Spanish”

“Oh, you want me to just read it” You felt a bit nervous your accent didn’t lend itself to the Spanish language, Aitana smirked, “Are you here to just laugh at me?”

“No. I came to help” You sipped her tea unsure what to say, “You want help?”

“From you? Not really but i need it”

Aitana slid the paper back, “I got your number from Keira, i’ll text you”

“What?”

And with that Aitana left leaving you behind alone once again even more confused than when she first arrived. Aitana never seemed to have a good word to say about you or to you but her actions were the opposite. She’d hand you water on the water break, she would translate for you in training when your face showed just how confused you were, she’d make sure you knew where you were going around the facility when she noticed you wander by for the fourth time looking for something.

There just was always that comment afterwards though. That reality check.

You couldn’t believe you were even doing this, Aitana had invited you over to her home to help you with your Spanish. You paused before you knocked on her apartment door after she’d buzzed you through the main door. “Hola, por favor entra.” You looked lost as Aitana stepped aside, “Hello, please come in” she repeated in your native tongue and you stepped inside. You eyed her dining table she’d got a bottle of wine waiting with two glasses.

“Wine in the afternoon?” You asked turning to her

She hummed as she moved by her, “Too numb the pain” Aitana sat pointing, “Sit” Aitana could be quite blunt it was a taste of your own medicine you could be just the same, all your friends said you didn’t always have a filter and didn’t let your brain process before your mouth started moving.

“Sentarse” You tried the word for sit Aitana raising her eyes as she poured you a glass of rosé.

“Close enough”

“You’re a harsh teacher” you mumbled sitting down beside her, she had copies of your Spanish work with the team, she’d gone to an effort which shocked you. “Where are we starting?”

“The beginning is a good place no?” Aitana sipped her wine after clanking her glass into yours without warning causing your other hand to come up to grip the glass you almost dropped. Smooth.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you”

“Stupid doesn’t suit you” You frowned at Aitana, now there was no need for that. “Come on” Aitana patted the papers.

“Do you know what? No” You got back to your feet, “I thought you were doing this too be kind, clearly you just want to belittle me, forget it” you grabbed your coat and left before Aitana even had a chance to tell you otherwise or apologise, the chill of the cool evening air hit you as you began the walk back to your own place. You felt stupid enough without Aitana pointing it out and now you felt stupid for a different reason, you thought she was being nice, making the effort. You were gullible and a fool for falling for her small semblance of kindness she’d paid you earlier that day. You hated yourself for being so free and available you could agree to just go round at the click of her fingers, she wasn’t being in control you promised yourself that.

You got into training the following morning and you found a book on your seat, you picked it up and by the title you knew exactly who it was from. Spanish for dummies. “Funny” you muttered to yourself dropping it back down to the left slightly so you could sit down and begin to get ready. It would take more than a peace offering, was it even a peace offering towards you was she getting more creative in her attempts at insulting you.

“What are you doing tonight?” Ellie appeared

“I’m busy” you muttered pulling your training top down over your torso

“Doing what?” Ellie questioned the confusion and intrigue all over her face

“I’m just busy that’s all you need to know”

“Do you have a date?” You rose your head now it was your turn to look confused at the instant assumption, “What? Usually you go all secretive when you’re dating”

“No I don’t”

“You do” Keira said as she went to walk by but stopped, “Are you?”

“No!” You exclaimed, “I’m just busy”

Both girls gave you odd looks moving away, they didn’t know why you were in a mood nor did they want to risk asking, “Te gusta tu libro?” Aitana asked taking ear rings out as she walked by, you just stared at her, she called you stupid yet insisted on speaking to you in Spanish despite knowing you could barely say hello. “Do you like your book? The more you listen the more you learn” she said taking her seat to put her boots on.

“The more you talk the less I listen” you fired back with getting to your feet to head out to the training pitch, “Au revoir”

“That’s French” Aitana pointed out a little too quickly for your liking, it was like she almost expected it from you

“I knew that” you exclaimed not turning around hearing the laughs coming from the other girls, you missed the smile Aitana watched you leave with on her face.

“Adios” Aitana called after you, you clicked your fingers your finger coming up in a eureka moment

“That’s the one” You smiled at the goalkeeper coach and got straight to work with him and Ellie, you felt happy on the pitch with one of your oldest friends from England Camps doing your drills through laughter. You were grabbing water on the hot day for Barcelona in January you found yourself watching the outfield players. One in particular.

“She’s too innocent for you”

“Huh?” You looked to Ellie who probably knew you the best, your friendship had been mainly over texts phone call Facetimes and weekend sleepovers over the years but you found yourself opening up to her a lot.

“Aita.. far too innocent for you”

“Oh give over” you shook your head, “She’s barely even a friend” Ellie rose her eyebrows sipping her water, “Shut up” you rose your voice at her

Ellie laughed, “I didn’t even speak”

“You didn’t have to, you have very expressive eyebrows!” You waved your hand at her, “If you’ve not noticed we’ve not got a nice word to say to each other”

“I have noticed”

“Then drop it” You however could not, “I mean I get it, she’s won award after award after award but does she really have to have a comment on everything” Ellie smirked listening to you ramble, “Like every way I turn she’s there with a comment thinking she’s funny or something I don’t know what her game is I think she’s been put on this earth to piss me off and you know what pisses me off she’s pissing me off”

“Do you want to say piss one more time?” Ellie dropped her water bottle back into the cooler as the outfield players were heading over for there water break.

“Do I want to know?” Lucy Bronze asked with a little smirk at your exasperated expression and Ellie’s amused one

“Can we drop it?”

“You have to stop talking about her for us to be able to drop it”

“Her?” Keira asked, “Who’s her? You have a her?” Keira put her hands together, “Are you finally settling down?” You were known for your ‘fuck boy’ ways back home, why settle down when you could have your fun with whoever you wanted to when you wanted. You didn’t have to meet parents, sit through laborious family meals with people you had to pretend to like because you were fucking their daughter sister niece who ever it may be. Your sex life was once described by Millie Bright as outrageous with the stories you would tell her during practice, you knew your way around women and you liked to be in charge. It was just the way it had to be you didn’t like not being in control. Leah Williamson’s comment she stole from fifty shades of grey on your sex life summed it up perfectly, I don’t make love, I fuck.

Lucy pointed, “Did you see that?” Lucy moved closer to Keira pointing, “Just there, did you not see it?”

“See what?”

“A pig just flew by”

Lucy got a smack from Keira and you in synchronicity getting a yelp back from her as she laughed at her own joke.

You were alone in the changing room you looked to your right at the Spanish book, you picked it up and flicked the first few pages, you soon found a post-it note, go to page 259

You did as you were told and saw Sorry and its Spanish translation highlighted, Aitana had a sense of humour. You didn’t know whether she was saying sorry to you or teaching you the word to say sorry to her but either way. It made you smile. “Are you coming for those drinks Y/N?” Ingrid smiled as she was about to head out after coming from the bathroom.

You nodded with a little smile, “I am”

“Do you want a ride? Come with me and Maria if you want?” You took Ingrid up on her offer enjoying the conversation you had with the couple in the car, “You’re nothing like we thought you’d be”

You looked at Ingrid as she looked at you in her rear view mirror, “Looks can be deceiving” you smiled getting a finger gun action from Maria for your humour.

“You obviously naturally hear stuff to” Ingrid carried on, “And make assumptions right or wrong”

“We all do it” You spoke looking out the window still in awe of just how pretty this city is, you thought in the four years you were under contract here for you’d never not be impressed by it.

“You have tattoos?” Maria asked

You nodded, “Mainly on my legs and I have a few on my back” you smiled at Maria, “My mum always told me, Y/N don’t get them anywhere you can see them in your wedding pictures and dunno. Just never have” you laughed at yourself at the absurdity of it.

“My mami never gave me the same advice” You both laughed as Ingrid smiled, you soon arrived at the privately hired bar the whole team was here even some of the staff, you were told the staff usually didn’t drink and left early so the team could let there hair down together. You found a seat with the better English speakers notably the lionesses on the team which due to her friendship with Keira, Aitana was this end of the table too.

You looked brooding and unapproachable as you sat, muscular arms on show leaning on the table sipping your beer your cap on backwards as conversations went on around you. You were deep in thought. Her eyes moved as the chair beside you became occupied, “Hola” Aitana spoke, you didn’t say a word, “I shouldn’t of called you stupid”

“No” your beer came back to your lips, “You shouldn’t” you took a swig, eyes going back out to the dance floor of your teammates and staff.

“You don’t look sensitive”

You couldn’t help the little sly smile amused by that comment, “I’m very sensitive” you sat back folded your arms your muscles bulging, you noticed Aitana look, her eyes froze in yours when she saw you looking. The eye contact went on far longer than you expected, maybe you were having a staring contest you weren’t aware of. But whatever the reason you weren’t looking away first. You got a smirk on your lips as you chewed your gum, “Can i help you?”

You smiled as she finally looked away, “You’re annoying” Your eyes scanned over Aitana as she blushed profusely.

“Stop looking at me”

“Why?” You matched her whisper turning your body more towards her, your knee brushed hers as you rested your cheek against your clenched fist giving her your full attention knowing it was making her nervous.

“Just don’t”

You leant on your thighs, “Why?” Aitana looked back into your eyes, you could see the curiosity she had for you. Maybe that’s why she was mean to you? Keeping you at arms length, keeping you from getting close enough to see that adorable blush your gaze gave her.

“Eres exasperante” Aitana got to her feet grabbed her drink and off she went leaving you chuckling to yourself as Ellie arrived back from the bar

“Are you tormenting Aitana?” She sat in the seat that had previously been occupied, “I don’t want to come across as rude or that I’m gossiping”

“But you’re going to be rude and gossip?” You smiled getting a dig in your thigh for the cheek.

“I don’t know whether it’s a joke or not and I’ve not asked but they call her the virgin Mary”

“Surely not”

“Why are you judging?”

You frowned at the attitude you got from Ellie, “I’m not! I’m just saying isn’t she like 30”

“She’s 27”

You rolled your eyes moving your knees back under the table readjusting your cap, “Semantics Ellie”

“I’m just saying-“

“I know, too innocent” You assured Ellie you weren’t interested and you found it funny how easy it was to make her blush and torment her. Since she enjoyed seemingly belittling you. “You’re ignoring the fact i’m not interested”

You entered the bathroom and her eyes rose to look at you in the mirror, “Is this a quick staring contest or? I need to pee you see”

Aitana was stone faced as she turned you couldn’t help the smile as she stared you out walking by to leave.

“Great talking to you” you said as the door closed behind her shaking your head going to do your business.

You were sat in your Spanish class with Ellie wagging your pencil as you listened your eyes moved as your phone buzzed

Could you look anymore lost

You sucked your teeth and moved your eyes to the window that over looked the training pitch seeing the back of Aitanas head as she went walking by. You shook her head to yourself and soon enough you were thanking your teacher and heading out done for the day.

“Hielo” you looked in the direction of the voice it was Aitana at her car, you had no clue she’d called you Ice as a nickname

“Did you just shout yellow at me?”

Aitana giggled at your stupidity, “Hielo”

You looked dumbfounded as she stopped in front of her car, “You’re literally saying yellow”

“I’m not saying yellow”

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever, did you need me for any in particular or just to-“

“Come for a coffee with me” Aitana smiled ever so slightly, “I’ll help you with your Spanish i promise i won’t call you stupid”

You nibbled your lip as you thought about, “Fine but only because i have a stupid test on Friday”

“Entra”

You stood for a second, “i’m going to assume thats along the lines of get in the car” Aitana didn’t speak she just got in and closed the door before you moved to join her and she took off before you even got your seatbelt on

You actually cracked a smile whilst tucked away in a corner with Aitana, you liked when she looked happy that you got something right. “It’s going in”

“It’s got to stay there yet” you mumbled before sipping your coffee, you glanced to Aitana and snapped your head back when she was watching you. “What?”

“Nothing” Aitana turned the page, “Not sure how learning animals is going to help you in training” You smiled she was so serious sometimes that it was cute.

“I know the animals”

“Of course you do” Aitana flipped the page rather aggressively, you giggled to yourself lowering your head, “What��s funny?”

“You” you looked to her with a bright smile the amusement plastered all over your face it was making your eyes sparkle. They looked bluer than they normally would.

“Shall i storm out?” Aitana was funny, you were coming around to the fact she was blunt and to find the amusement in it. You’d be assured a few times just like yourself when you got past her wall she was actually the sweetest human being

“You caught me on a bad day”

“Clearly, you don’t seem the type to be bothered easily”

“I’m not usually, but moving countries and clubs can be stressful” Aitana watched you with eyes that told you to carry on as she must of known there was more to your little outburst. “We’re a big birthday family, I missed my nieces birthday, its stupid but I-“

“It’s not stupid, how old was she?”

“2.. her dad said she was asking for me all day, just hard because she doesn’t understand but its something i’ll have to get used to, I was lucky enough to always be able to be there for family things.”

Aitana looked over you, “When do you see them next?”

“No idea”

It was ridiculous you were more nervous for your Spanish exam than you were for your Barcelona debut, you had a team to let down in the latter, but the hours Aitana had put into the former to help you made you obscenely nervous for you to fail. You wanted to do this for her, you wanted to do well for her to prove you were listening whenever she thought you weren’t. The late nights studying worth it, staying later after training and seeing her on her off days when she didn’t have to see your face, worth it. For her.

You’d had so many coffee meetings, meals at both your houses one night it got a little, flirty.

“You’re doing it again?” Aitana spoke as you both sat on the same corner of her table.

“Doing what?”

“Flirting”

“Oh” you paused as you were building your next fork full, you didn’t mean to. You were told how flirty you were it was just who you are. You do it without even realising it was something that had never registered with you that that’s why women seem to throw themselves at you. You flirted. You were hot. It was like putting petrol on a fire it was bound to blow up. “Sorry” you knew it made your new friend nervous you couldn’t help it.

“No” you moved your head that quick to Aitana that your head went a little fuzzy, “Don’t apologise people never flirt with me, ever, makes a change” Maybe they were right, was she a virgin? Surely she’d have to of flirted before if she had been physical with someone.

“What never?” You softened and lowered your shock when she blushed, “Or, are you just oblivious to it?”

“I picked up that you were, however unintentionally it was” she finally moved her eyes to yours, “So, no people don’t flirt with me”

“I may unintentionally flirt with you sometimes because i’m told that’s just my personality but, I can flirt for real if you want?” Aitana laughed, it was out of nerves but it came across as dismissive, “What?” You asked lowly scooting a bit closer, “Scared?”

“Of what?”

You smiled when Aitanas eyes were fixed to you biting your lip then it dropped to the hand you respectfully placed on her thigh but let your fingertips dip to the inside making their presence known. “You’ll end up naked on this table if i do”

Aitana removed your hand shaking her head, “You’re ridiculous”

You cracked a smile, “Tell me you weren’t turned on”

“I wasn’t”

A hand covered your heart, “You wound me”

“Every other girl may fall for your charm, those blue eyes and that smile of yours but I didn’t” You laughed as you continued eating

“Didn’t? Or wouldn’t?”

You got a smack from Aitana as you both laughed, “What’s your number?”

“My number? You have my number”

“No” she spoke softly, “I meant, how many people have you slept with?”

You made a noise, as if you were debating something, “That’s a tricky one”

“Too many to count”

You gave a bored look to Aitana, “What’s yours?”

“I’m not telling you that”

“Then why should I tell you mine?” You shrugged, “I enjoy sex i’m not ashamed of that, i like naked women, i like touching naked women, i like naked women touching me-“

“I get it”

You found yourself wanting her to feel pride in you. When you knocked on her door as promised to tell her your results she looked more nervous than you did. “Well?”

You smiled ever so slightly putting the woman out her misery, “I got a B”

“Really?” Aitana got so happy she leapt into you, you let out a chuckle as one of your arms came around her, her lips attaching to yours sloppily. When they disconnected she looked just as confused as you did. “What was that?”

“…a kiss” she whispered, your free hand came to her cheek as you leant in whispering

“No it wasn’t.. this is though” You closed your lips around hers faintly, Aitana looked up at your eyes luminous when you pulled your head back to gauge her reaction. She didn’t recoil in horror she didn’t create distance she didn’t stop you when you drew her closer pressing her firmly against your body.

You pressed your lips more firmly against hers this time, she was so trusting so vulnerable as your mouth moved on hers. You could have easily got carried away in the moment, she was closer now than she’d ever been and it still didn’t feel enough. You wanted more of her. You needed more of her as your whole body seemed to light on fire, your body begging for just one of her hands to touch you, find its resting place somewhere. Anywhere. You didn’t take more, enjoying the way Aitana lips seemed to be made for kissing. They were plump, soft, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top, they gave into the slightest pressure allowing your tongue entry. It sent your heart racing as suddenly her hands were pressed to your stomach her fingers scrunched down into a fist gripping your shirt. The way her fingers bounced over your abs; if your mouth wasn’t busy it would have groaned at the feeling.

The kissing became more frantic led by Aitana the anticipation building, your body’s in sync as her arms came around your neck while your body dipped to reach your hands to the back of her thighs to lift her. All the tension you’d had with Aitana ebbing away as you hit the counter lowering Aitana to perch on it. All the rigidity between you dissipating as your bodies had a silent conversation.

You were incredibly turned on, it was taking every fibre of your being to not just rip her clothes off and have your way with her. You liked submissive, the doe eyes of Aitana, the rumour she wasn’t that experienced. It laid itself to you and your need to control in the bedroom.

You ran a hand up her thigh giving it a tantalising squeeze at the top as your mouth went wandering, her neck craned back giving you unbridled access, your hot breathe could be felt on her neck before your lips attached. She removed your cap her fingers getting lost in your hair at the back of your neck and as your tongue dragged from the bottom to the top you almost came at the sweet noise she let out.

Your lips came close to her ear, “How far do you want to go?” You whispered, your movements paused as you waited for the answer, it felt like an eternity until Aitana slipped off the counter top her body rubbing down yours in the tiny gap there was. She held eye contact as she took your head and you were being led through her home, you went by the bathroom the last room you were familiar with.

You found yourself in her bedroom you instantly took a seat on her bed leaning back on your hands, you glanced to your lap, “Sit” your pupils darkened as she slipped onto your lap, she was the one to reconnect your lips she was the one to rid you of your shirt. Your eyes soaked up every inch of her when she moved backwards to take her top off, your bottom lip dragged between your teeth. You noticed her nerves you leant forward kissed her lips as you unclasped her bra with one hand before discarding it to the floor, you rid yourself of your own as Aitana held your face as you kissed. The heat soon found its way back again, your hands gripping her arse you got her to move her hips against you with silent encouragement.

The friction of the fabrics Aitana clearly enjoyed her head going back pulling a gap between your chests you latched your mouth to her breast giving her a hint of just what your tongue could do.

Something switched in you when she tugged at your hair looking down at you with a pleased smirk. The idea of letting the nervous Aitana think she was in control left your brain as you stood with ease holding Aitana with one arm turning a knee going onto the bed as you put her on her back. You rid yourself of your remaining layers before dragging them off Aitana.

You reconnected your lips as your hand rubbed up and down her most sensitive area before testing the waters dipping a finger inside of her. Her lips ripped from yours as she gasped at how deep you went, you dragged the wet finger back up her slit as you whispered in her ear.

“You’re wet already” You smirked against her gently circling her clit with your thumb, she put your finger slowly back into her, it was painfully slow your movements but the breathing of Aitana next to your ear showed it was proving effective. “Can you take another?” You asked your second finger hovering waiting for approval when Aitana didn’t answer to overcome with the feelings you asked again. She let you know she could and you let your fingers move together more freely in and out of her.

You were rougher with Aitana than you intended, you were overcome with raw sexual desire for her, you were lost in the moment forgetting how sweet and innocent Aitana was. But she took it. She loved it in fact it brought out a side in her you didn’t think existed, she wasn’t shy in telling you what she wanted, what felt good, being vocal in her pleasure. You even let her take control in a moment and let her fuck you and oh my god was that a good feeling. You got off getting women off but that was something else.

“I’m coming” Aitana was red and glistening all over from your amorous activities as she sat on your face. You had a firm grip on her thighs to stop her moving, she moaned, “Joder” she exclaimed as her breathing stopped her body tensing, a guttural noise escaping her throat. Her body slumped forward as you smack her arse her hands on the headboard behind you her back arching, you gripped it tightly before you smacked it harder the sound ringing around the room over her moaning as you sucked her clit to another orgasm. “Harder” you easily moved and manipulated Aitana onto all forms slipping from underneath her you grabbed a hand full of her hair pulling it back as your crotch pushed into her backside. “Spank me harder”

As you squeezed and kneaded her cheek you kissed up her back, you knew what you were doing it you were building anticipation, you pulled her head back further to be able to reach her mouth your tongues dancing.

“Y/N” her moaning your name whilst making eye contact drove you crazy

“Yeah baby”

“I want to come again”

“What made you think i was finished with you?” You asked with a little kiss on her lips, “Answer me”

“I don’t know” she moaned as your fingers slipped into her, she bit her lip still maintaining eye contact as you pump harder than ever as you’d learnt she could handle it, you let her hair go and her chest pressed to the sheets squirming. Her eyes moved to yours once again when you pressed a thumb against her asshole. You silently asked permission when she shook her head you gave her what she did want you spanked her and the nervous expression evaporated almost instantly.

“You’re so fucking sexy” you muttered watching the way your own fingers smacked in and out of her, you felt her walls begin to tighten, “You gonna come for me?” You asked, you spanked her harder than ever when she didn’t respond.

The excited little squeal as she pushed up on her hands told you she liked it, Aitana was kinky, who knew. “I’m going to come for you, you’re making me come for you.” You adjusted behind Aitana still on all fours so you could move faster the noise from her slit of her pleasure was audible before Aitana began moaning. Aitana shocked you and herself when she squirted slightly as you removed your fingers to tap her clit.

Aitana collapsed forward moaning every time she took a breath, she was done now. She couldn’t take anymore she was over sensitive her eyes closed as you pressed a kiss to the middle of her back.

You lay back horizontally on her bed you weren’t sure how much time passed as you both silently lay separately catching your breath before you sat up and stood up off the bed.

You grabbed your tee from the floor slipping it on, “Are you going?” You turned your head to Aitana's sweet little voice behind you

“Do you want me to?” Aitana swallowed and shook her head, “Ok” you padded out the bedroom to go to the bathroom, you cleaned yourself up, got a wet cloth grabbed a bottle of water out the fridge and headed back. You walked back around the bed you placed the bottle on the floor tapped Aitana arse, “Roll to your back” she did as she was told and you cleaned her up you threw the cloth across the room into the laundry basket taking a seat as you chugged some water. You looked to her your eyes connecting as you held the bottle to her, she sat herself up taking it from you. When she finished you placed it on the side table for her rose to your feet took the tee back off as you walked around the bottom of the bed you got into bed pulling Aitana to cuddle into you and it wasn’t long until you both fell to sleep after your hours of enjoyment of each others bodies.

You were in the locker rooms bathroom doing your hair ready for getting onto the bus to travel for the away game the other side of the city when Ellie stormed in shutting the door making it obvious you were going to be discussing something that wasn’t for everyone’s ears. That door never got shut.

“You slept with Aitana?” She asked, you moved your eyes from hers in the mirror

“How do you know that?”

“I put 2 and 2 together” Ellie explained, “You said you were going to her place last night to tell her your exam grade and she’s showed up here today with hickeys and bruises that are clearly from sex with you, it doesn’t take a genius”

You didn’t speak, you just carried on scraping your hair up into a hair tie.

“Y/N! She could have been a virgin! You know the rumour!”

You turned your head to Ellie you looked a little pissed, “She wasn’t a virgin Ellie”

“How do you know that?”

“Virgins don’t fuck like that!” you held eye contact after your exclamation, your eyes looked into the mirror when a cubicle door opened behind you and Alexia stepped out. She made sure to make contact but not one of you spoke as she moved to wash her hands dry them and leave, she made the point of propping the door back open. You sighed putting your hands on the sink looking to Ellie.

You rolled your eyes as you came down the bus Ellie still going on, “Oh come on, we tell each other everything”

“Do we?” You looked over your shoulder, “I tell you nothing and you continually over share” you turned your head back and your eyes connected with Alexia kneeling on her seat back against the window, your eyes dropped to Aitana eyes focused on her phone before looking back to Alexia not a word spoken. Now you were worried. Did you go too far with Aitana?

“Oh come on, I’ll tell you about the last bloke I slept with”

“I couldn’t give a shit about your sex life Ellie” You spoke putting your bag up above sitting in one of the four seats Keira opposite you, the look on her face you thought she knew.

“What are you two going on about?”

“Ellie’s over sharing again” you grumble pulling your phone out to try to block her out.

“Y/N” Ellie sat down

“Will drop it?” You said forcefully, “I am never going to tell you so just fucking drop it”

Keira stared at the pair, “Ok, I need to know whats happened?” Keira leant forward as the bus started to move, “Y/N” you just put her earphones in and turned your music on, with Aitana not even acknowledging you and Alexia’s stoic reaction towards you, you were worrying what conversation they’d had. You didn’t want to hurt Aitana by any means but she didn’t initiate the night previous maybe you’d got a bit too carried away.

You soon were coming off the bus, as you moved along the bus to grab your bag you found yours beside Aitana who was collecting hers. “Hi” you said to her hopeful, Alexia behind her popped her handle up a bit more forceful than you thought necessary. Was she ready to throw hands over something you’d no clue you’d done?

“You know” Aitana rose her head, “I never thought you’d be the type of person to go bragging”

“I-“ Your face softened, you had never considered how your conversation with Ellie may of come across when relayed.

“Save it.. I don’t want to hear it, I told people you were different from the rumours about you, clearly you used that charm to pull the wool over my eyes to get what you wanted”

You didn’t speak you let Aitana walk away with drama, you sighed, “Wow. That was frosty.”

“Don’t” You bit at Ellie, it wasn’t Ellie’s fault entirely but you were annoyed and needed someone to take your anger out on and she was the only option you weren’t close enough to any other teammate who knew the situation, or thought they did like Ellie. “For once in your life just keep your mouth shut”

“Y/N”

“Just.. stay away from me for a while yeah?” You grabbed your case, “She won’t speak to me now because of your stupid comments in the toilet, well in Ellie!” You walked by Alexia who just watched you without a word but her face was different this time. You went into your corner spot thankful to be out the way, you didn’t know whether Aitana was playing a game but you sure hoped she was with how unbothered she appeared whilst you looked racked with sadness and guilt.

You were last to come to the line, you were late in fact. Alexia gave you a questioning look when you didn’t even had your gloves on, “You good?” You didn’t acknowledge her with words and just nodded, “Head in the game?” She couldn’t find out your answer as it was time to walk out.

You played well, despite your mind elsewhere it seemed even distracted you were still one of the best goalkeepers without really trying it was pure instinct.

You joined in the post match greetings Aitana was coming right towards you as both were moving through players telling them good game, did you acknowledge her? And risk her ignoring you and all the players around knew something was a miss. As Aitana got in front of you, your name was called and you were taken away for the post match interview.

You turned as the door behind you finally opened, “What do you want?” Aitana asked

You slipped by her into her home, “What do you think I want?”

“I have no idea”

“Aitana” you spoke taking your jacket off putting it on the back of one of her dining room chairs, “You are an incredibly attractive women, you offered it on a plate, you really think I’d turn that down?” Aitana shut the door folding her arms, “I don’t know what you want from me? You’re down right rude one minute, then you insist on spending every minute with you to the point I actually considered you a friend and enjoyed your company, then we have the best sex and you then ignore me.. I’m going to need you to start using some words and explain to me what you want?”

“You” You furrowed your brows, “I want you but I can’t have you”

“Why can’t you have me?”

“Everyone says you don’t do relationships, and I said to myself I wouldn’t go there with you and I did and I don’t regret it I just.. wish I’d prepared myself more for how it would make me feel afterwards”

You close the gap cupping her face, “Who said I don’t do relationships? Surely that’s my decision, I’ve never found someone I want to commit to, I’ve never had that feeling that I didn’t need someone else in my life.. then you happened. If you want me Aitana you can have me, over the last couple of weeks i’ve loved being around you, you make me laugh, I smile when I think about you. I’d really like to see where we could go” Aitana rose her eyes to yours, “What do you say? We go on a few dates and see what happens?”

“We’re dating?”

You smiled, “We’re dating. I’m not done with you yet” you kissed her softly.

#woso fanfics #Aitana Bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #Aitana Bonmati fanfic #aitana bonmati imagine #woso

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crushmeeren · 2 days ago

Text

イ JEALOUSY

⋆ note ; having rampant thoughts about alucard so….. yeah, here i am. still procrastinating my other fic, continuing to insert myself into this fandom lmao. don’t ask where this idea came from, cuz I’d say I pulled it from my ass.

⋆ suggestive-ish content, cursing.

master list

Studying Alucard, at the irritated scrunch of his nose, at the expression that displays his holier than thou attitude — well, you determine that jealousy looks good on him.

The menacing air that surrounds him, the sharp fang poking out over his bottom lip, you’re sure it’s scaring everyone within his vicinity. He’s sulking, but he’s still terrifying.

You’d thought bringing your husband to the bar tonight would be a good change of pace. Alucard spends so much time of his free time holed up inside, acting every bit like the centuries old half vampire he is, you wanted him to live a little.

Convincing him to ditch his black coat and put on a silky white button up was, surprisingly, the most difficult part.

Somehow you’d ended up on the dance floor. Alone. Putting on a show for Alucard, encouraging him to join the crowd and dance with you while he sat pretty in a torn up booth. You’d been so eager for him to let loose. To slide up behind you, grab your hips like a lifeline, and place hot kisses all over the side of your throat until he got so worked up he’d drag you home and shove your face in the sheets.

You’re on the verge of hooking him, the heavy beat of the music thumping in your chest, when strange fingers circle around your outstretched wrist. You jump, gasping as you whip towards the unknown source. A man with shaggy brown hair tugs you closer, a silly smile pointed at you.

The man raises his voice to be heard over the speakers. “Why’re you all alone doll? Need a partner to grind that sweet ass against?”

You twist your wrist free, brows shooting up at the blunt statement. What the fuck? “Uh no, I’m not alone. My husband is here. So please leave me the hell alone,” you reply, tone firm in your rejection. You take a step backwards, creating some distance.

He follows, crowding in way too close for comfort. “Ya sure about that? I don’t see him anywhere.”

That’s when you choose to shoot Alucard a look asking for help. That’s when you notice his furious features and your stomach lurches with heat, flipping upside down.

Your husband is positioning himself between you and the stranger before you can blink, pushing his chest roughly with a look of disdain, a nasty curl to his lip.

“Adrian,” you start. “He’s not worth your time.” You grab his elbow but Alucard holds up a hand, directing his attention to the other man, who’s now staring at him in disbelief.

“What the hell man? Who do you think you are Adri—,”

Alucard cuts him off with a hiss. “Do not utter my name, you filthy fucking animal. If you dare lay another hand on my wife, I’ll rip the limb from your body. Do you understand?” he threatens, destroying the distance between himself and the stranger.

You’re on the tips of your toes, eyes darting between both men. The unwanted stranger, who appears to retain some sense about him, snaps his jaw shut and raises his hands in surrender. He spins in the opposite direction and scurries out of sight.

Alucard remains frozen in place. You side step him, then shift until you’re face to face. He rolls the tension from his shoulders once your hands settle on his chest, meeting your burning gaze and flushed face. The intensity in his eyes lights you up inside, the tips of your fingers tingling.

No other thoughts come to mind besides “that was so hot, my husband is so fucking hot. i want him.” And you tell him so.

He chuckles, lifting one hand to cradle your cheek, thumb running across your bottom lip. “Did I make you ravenous for me, my love? I was unaware my possessive nature appealed to you so sweetly,” He teases, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You nod, desperate to go home. “Adrian,” you plead. “C’mon, stop teasing.”

He places his lips against your ear and murmurs “If that’s your desire, then we shall leave this place. I’ll show you that you’re completely, utterly, mine.”

イ here’s the real question…does anyone want an nsfw part 2?

#alucard x you #alucard x reader #alucard #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #castlevania x you #castlevania x reader #adrian tepes x you #jealous alucard #fem reader #suggestive

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ur-sick-and-married · 1 day ago

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ANTISEPTIC • CAITVI

TW: blood, violence, angst, female reader, Vi and Cait are mad at each other lol

SUMMARY: your girlfriends will always help you after you get in a fight, even when they’re stressed and aggravated.

A/N: literally what is Vi’s last name.

“Dammit, cupcake, you’re gonna get blood on the fancy ass floors.”

Vi held the front door open with one arm, and heaved you through it with her other. She was right. You were already dripping blood onto the shiny floors.

“Let’s just get you a first aid kit.” She huffed.

She helped you up the big staircase, searching for Caitlyn. Neither of you really knew your way around the mansion yet.

You’d made a mistake, and gotten yourself into a fight. Your fighting skills weren’t bad…you were just lucky Vi found you when she did. Sure, your face was throbbing, you were limping, and your fists were pretty banged up, but at least you were conscious.

Vi couldn’t really see things that way. She was angry you’d be so irresponsible, yet worried, and that just came out as more anger. She was stressed with the whole hunt-down-Jinx thing. Everyone was, and it showed in different ways. The fight was your way.

Vi shoved open the doors to Caitlyn’s room, calling for the other girl.

“Gosh!” Caitlyn exclaimed when she saw you. “What happened to you?!”

“I fell.” You fibbed, flopping onto one of the couches.

“Don’t lie.” Vi hissed. “She got in a fight.”

“A fight?” Caitlyn gasped. She was at your side within a second, holding your bruised face in her hands.

“Now you’re getting blood up here.” Vi grumbled, watching your knuckles leave little red marks on the couch cushion.

“Why are you so pissed?” Cait said to Vi, eyebrows furrowed.

Vi simply grunted and shook her head, turning to look out the window.

“Are you okay?” Caitlyn whispered.

“I’m fine, Cait.” You sighed. “Don’t worry.”

“You don’t look fine.” She responded.

“Doesn’t even hurt that bad.” You shrugged.

She brought a finger to your face, and lightly touched one of the forming bruises. You immediately winced.

“Sure it doesn’t hurt.” She muttered. “Let’s get you patched up…”

She helped you stand, and guided you to the luxurious bathroom. While she hunted for a first aid kit, you sat on the counter. Then you realized that Vi was in the doorway, watching anxiously.

“Alright.” Caitlyn said, kit in hand. “Tell me where it hurts.”

You listed your sore spots, and she carefully checked them all. She removed your shoe to examine your ankle, which she confirmed was just rolled. She looked at your hands next, at all the tiny, bleeding cracks in your skin. Finally, she got to your face. Her expression was one of worry as she made sure you weren’t concussed.

“Okay.” She said once she was done. “Your injuries aren’t severe. You’ll just need some bandages.”

You nodded, avoiding her gaze. You felt ashamed of yourself.

Vi still watched from the door. She observed your every move, as if you’d break in half any second.

Caitlyn started cleaning your hands, making you flinch.

“Sorry. Should’ve warned you.” She muttered, her accent thick.

She continued cleaning your hand, then wrapped it up, so it looked like Vi’s hands now.

It wasn’t until Caitlyn had moved onto your other hand that she spoke.

“Vi,” She said, not even glancing at your shared partner. “Care to tell me what’s stuck up your ass while I patch up our girlfriend?”

“Our girlfriend…” Vi responded bitterly. “Was stupid, getting in a fight like that.”

“Call her stupid again and I’ll fight you.” Caitlyn grumbled.

Things had been tense between them. You were honestly one of the only things keeping them together at that point in time.

It was just a rough patch, though. Things did eventually improve.

“It was irresponsible!” Vi snapped.

Caitlyn groaned, annoyed, wrapping your hand a little tighter than necessary.

“I didn’t mean to fight.” You whispered.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Caitlyn asked softly, resting her hands on your knees.

“I was outside the bar…” You explained. “And there was this drunk guy. I think he was hitting on me. He was bad at it. I told him I wasn’t interested and he…I don’t know, sort of lunged at me. So obviously I fought back. Then Vi found me.”

“So you didn’t initiate the fight?” Caitlyn asked.

You shook your head. She whipped around to face Vi, exclaiming, “She was standing up for herself!”

Vi looked conflicted for a second, then she sputtered, “She-she still engaged!”

“Can’t you just be worried?” Cait snapped.

“I am!” Vi roared.

Her yell shocked you and Caitlyn into silence. Cait gave her a look, then turned back to you. She wet a cloth in the sink to clean your face, while shaking her head.

Suddenly, Vi was at her side, standing right in front of you. She put her hands on your thighs like Cait had, but her grip was firmer.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, looking at the counter instead of you. “For being so angry, and ignorant. I shouldn’t have…jumped to conclusions.”

She then looked to Caitlyn, who was eyeing her, and said, “And I’m sorry to you, too. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“I shouldn’t have snapped.” Caitlyn shrugged.

Vi patted your leg, looking like a sad, little puppy. She hated upsetting either of you, let alone both.

She sat on the counter next to you, manspreading, of course.

Caitlyn took her place in front of you again, and started to clean your face. When you winced the first time, Vi quickly grabbed your hand, trying to soothe you. Her grip got tighter any time you expressed pain.

“Try to stay still, darling.” Cait whispered.

“It’s okay.” Vi murmured.

“You’re all done.” Cait sighed. “You did good.”

Vi’s grip on your hand relaxed. She gently rubbed your back, trying to be comforting.

“Do you need anything?” Caitlyn questioned. “Food? Painkillers?”

You shook your head, quiet.

“Well, since you don’t have a concussion, you should probably sleep.” She said, sounding clinical.

“Rest will do you some good.” Vi added.

You nodded. “Okay, but…first…”

You pulled Caitlyn closer, until you could bury your face in her shoulder. Her arms were around you quickly, holding you tight. Vi continued to rub your back, watching with a sad smile.

“It’s alright.” Caitlyn whispered. “You’re safe here. We’ve got you, love.”

“C’mon, let’s get you out of these dirty clothes.” Vi said.

Together, they got you into comfortable clothing, then into bed. They lied down on either side of you, surrounding you with warmth and love.

“I’m really sorry, cupcake.” Vi repeated, pulling you into her chest.

“It’s fine, Vi.” You responded. “I understand.”

“I do too.” Cait confided. She rubbed your arm with one hand, and played with Vi’s hair with the other.

“Hey, tomorrow I’m gonna go find that guy who hit you, and I’m gonna beat his ass.” She whispered.

“Violet.” Caitlyn said firmly, making you laugh.

Sure, it had taken some time, but they were always able to make you feel better. They could scrape the bad away for a little bit, like the antiseptic Cait had just used.

#caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #caitvi x reader #caitvi x you #caitvi x female reader #vi arcane #vi x caitlyn #vi x reader #vi x you #arcane #league of legends #polyamorous wlw #wlw imagine #ursickandmarriedstories

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blindmortal · 2 days ago

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𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 ೀ.ᐟ⭒๋࣭ ⭑

༘⋆ idol!sunghoon x hurt!reader ♡ angst with minor fluff & w.c 1.1k ; reader is insecure, slightly suggestive mentions

─── ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You loved Sunghoon.

Without question, without hesitation—day and night, beneath the sun’s merciless glare or the sky’s weeping grief—he was your anchor. The constant in your ever-spinning world, the rock you clung to when the tides of life threatened to pull you under.

But what happens when the rock crumbles? When fractures creep along its surface, splintering, weakening, until it is no longer a refuge but a ruin? When the light that once bathed your world in warmth flickers, falters, and finally gutters out?

You felt it first in the way he touched you. The way his hands traced your skin—not desperate, not lingering, but fleeting. The way his kisses, once consuming, now barely pressed against your lips before retreating like the tide. And yet, when he held you close, when he tangled himself around you in the stillness of the night, it was intoxicating. He made sure you knew, marked your skin with the remnants of his love, each bruise a whisper of possession.

You told yourself it was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Until the warmth faded from your sheets, leaving only the cold echo of his absence. Until his hoodie lost his scent, the fabric no longer carrying the phantom of his embrace. Until you found yourself curled in the corner of your room, arms wrapped around trembling knees, the silence so loud it roared in your ears.

Loneliness.

That was your life now—a hollow existence measured by missed calls and empty spaces.

It had been months. At first, you tolerated it, convinced yourself you understood, that you had walked into this with open eyes. But understanding did not stop the ache. It did not stop the nights where his exhaustion dripped through the phone, where his voice was frayed at the edges, where sleep claimed him mid-sentence even as you lay awake, waiting. Hoping.

Perhaps you had overestimated yourself.

You couldn’t stop the thoughts from slithering in, curling around your ribs, constricting. They came in whispers, in quiet little knives, in the shape of his smile—bright and breathtaking, but never yours.

Not anymore.

You had seen that smile before. On stage. In videos. Directed at fans with wide, shining eyes and voices that called his name like a prayer. You weren’t sure when it stopped belonging to you.

Perhaps he would be better without you.

The idea was a parasite, burrowing deeper with every unanswered text, every half-hearted I miss you muttered through a phone screen, every night spent curled up in the hollowed-out space where he should have been.

How long had it been since he looked at you like you were something precious? Since his voice softened for you, since he traced the shape of your face like he was memorizing you?

You didn’t know.

The petals of the flower between your fingers were dry, crumbling at the edges. The same one he had given you long ago—when time felt boundless and love didn’t feel like something slipping through your grasp. You plucked one off, rolling it between your fingers, watching it disintegrate against your skin.

"He loves me."

Another petal.

"He loves me not."

Pluck.

"He loves me."

Pluck.

"He loves me not."

You stared at the last petal. The weight in your chest was unbearable, pressing, suffocating. Your breath came out ragged.

"He loves me not."

The words barely escaped your lips before a hand reached out, brushing the fragile stem from your grip.

"He loves you."

His voice was quiet, but it filled the space. You looked up.

Sunghoon stood there, bouquet in hand, a single petal caught between his fingers. A woeful smile curved at the corners of his mouth, his eyes heavy with exhaustion—but beneath it all, that look.

The one that could bring life back to the withered rose in your hands. The one that melted the ice in your chest, made the birds sing again, made the world tilt back into place.

“And he will always love you,” he murmured, sinking to his knees, leveling your gaze as his fingers brushed against your tear-streaked skin.

"You came," you croaked, voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon’s lips twitched, a flicker of something soft behind his eyes as he pulled out his phone, turning it toward you. The missed call from your number blinked on the screen, the voicemail icon still lit.

"You called?"

His voice was quieter now, regret lining the edges of his frown. "I'm sorry I didn’t answer, angel. I was going through airport security."

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled him into a tight embrace, afraid that he would slip away from you once again, leaving you tangled in doubt and insecurity. His warmth stung you now and healed you all at once, and you never wanted to leave this moment, not ever again.

Your sobs grew louder by the second, each breath a struggle as the weight of everything came crashing down.

Sunghoon could only hold you, his arms around you tight, but his words—his words failed him, lost in the intensity of your grief. He wasn’t just a boyfriend. He was the one person you believed would never leave, the one person you had trusted completely.

But now, even that trust seemed fragile.

He was so used to being distant. So good at slipping away into his world, that maybe that was the reason you always found yourself on the outside looking in, questioning your place beside him.

You pulled away slightly, enough to meet his gaze, your voice broken. "I wake up every morning, and I reach for you, but you're never there."

The guilt flickered in Sunghoon’s eyes as he searched your face. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he said quietly, his voice thick with regret. "I didn’t want to make you feel like that."

"But I do," you replied, voice strained. "I feel so alone, Sunghoon. The calls… the space between us. I keep thinking you’re going to leave. And maybe... maybe I’m just too much."

A sharp breath left him as he took your hands in his, brushing the back of them with his thumb. His touch was soft, but his words, laden with guilt, cracked through the silence. "No. You’re not too much. You never were. I’ve been selfish, so wrapped up in everything else. And I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you. Always."

The words settled, a gentle reassurance, but you still felt the tremors of uncertainty in your chest. You searched his eyes, wanting to believe him, needing to believe him.

"I never stopped loving you," he whispered, his voice a soft promise, as if he were laying his heart bare in the space between you. "Not for a second. And I’ll show you that. I’ll show you how much you mean to me, I promise."

Your gaze lifts to meet his, and the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes is all the confirmation you needed.

You love Sunghoon, and he loves you too.

#enhypen #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fic #enhypen scenarios #﹫fate oneshot

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bright-side20 · 2 days ago

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Inspired by Persephone of Tamino

The night was heavy with the scent of dying roses.

Elain stood in the shadows of the River House garden, the Sidra whispering, the autumn wind tugging at her dress like unseen hands trying to pull her back inside. Back to warmth. To safety.

But she wasn’t looking for safety tonight.

She had followed him.

Azriel had slipped away from dinner, vanishing like the moment the conversation turned too warm, too familiar. Too full of the people who loved him. The people he would never let love him in return.

And now, here he was. Standing at the edge of the garden, facing the river like it might give him the answers he was always searching for.

Azriel tensed. He didn’t turn, but she saw the way his shoulders tightened.

“Elain,” he said, her name barely a breath. A warning. A plea.

She took a step forward. “You always leave when things feel too...” She hesitated, trying to find the right word. Good? Easy? Right? None of them felt strong enough. “When they feel too real.”

Azriel exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand,” she said, stepping closer still. Close enough to see the way the moonlight caught in his eyes, the way his throat bobbed with the effort of restraint.

He turned then, his expression unreadable, carved from ice and shadow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She let out a quiet laugh, one with no humor at all. “You’ve said that before.”

“Because it’s true.” His voice was low. “You think you see me, but you don’t. You see the pieces I let you see. The quiet, the control. Not the parts that would ruin you.”

Elain didn’t flinch. “And what if I want to see all of you?”

Azriel’s wings shifted, the movement almost imperceptible, but she had learned to read him. He was unraveling, his carefully placed walls beginning to crack.

“You don’t.” His voice was raw now. “You think I’m something I’m not, Elain. I am not the light. I am not the warmth. I am war and shadows and blood, and if you get too close, I will break you.”

She stared at him, at the storm raging behind his eyes. “And yet, I always return.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “You shouldn’t.”

She shook her head, stepping so close now that the chill of his power curled around her skin, warred with the warmth of her own. “And yet, you always let me.”

Silence stretched between them, thick as the autumn night, as the river running behind them. And for the first time, Azriel had no words.

So she lifted a hand...slowly, giving him the chance to pull away. He didn’t. Her fingers grazed his wrist, then the skin of his hand, tracing the scars he never spoke of.

“Elain,” he warned, but it came out more broken than sharp.

She ignored it, let her hand drift higher, her touch featherlight against his cheek. He shuddered at the contact, like it was something unbearable.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” she whispered. “Tell me, and I’ll walk away.”

Azriel’s breath was unsteady. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Then tell me you don’t feel it.”

He made a sound then, something between a laugh and a curse. "Of course I feel it." His eyes locked onto hers, dark and wild, yet something soft and vulnerable flickered beneath the surface. "That’s the problem." His voice lowered, almost like a confession. "In your presence, I feel the light...too much of it. It pulls me toward you, to places I’m not sure I deserve... Your arms are a place I can’t help but want to stay."

Elain didn't back down. "Then let it be a problem I’m willing to face," she said, her voice warm. "Let me be the place you belong, Azriel. Where you don’t have to hide."

Azriel took a step back, his breath sharp, his wings shifting like he was ready to take flight. But she reached out, pressing her hand against his chest.

He was so warm. The kind of warmth that burned. The kind of warmth she craved.

Azriel went still.

She felt his restraint unravel, felt the way his fingers caught her wrist, and she gasped as he dragged her against him.

She tilted her head back, rising on her tiptoes, their lips just a breath apart.

“You think this is something soft? Something safe?” he growled. As his hand slipped into her hair, fingers threading gently through the strands to hold her in place. The contrast was striking...his words were fierce and dangerous, yet his touch was so tender. “You think I will let you taste this and walk away untouched?”

She smiled, slow and sure. “I don’t want to walk away.”

His shadows coiled around her waist now, sliding over her skin like ink. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

She held his gaze. “Show me.”

Azriel exhaled sharply. “Fuck,” he cursed, his voice desperate. And then

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was teeth and hunger, restraint shattering like glass. His lips crashed against hers, urgent and desperate, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hand still tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, as though he couldn’t get enough. Every part of him ignited hers with a heat that burned through her, flooding her veins with a need so raw it consumed her entirely.

Elain moaned into his mouth, and that was all it took. His hands moved to her hips, lifting her, pressing her against the rough bark of a tree. His wings flared, shadows writhing, tangling in her dress, knotting in her hair.

She gasped against his lips as he bit her lower lip, sharp enough to make her shudder, sharp enough to make her ache. All she could think about was the way he held her, how much she craved more of him, how he made her feel like she was breathing for the first time after drowning. He was death, shadow, ruin but in his arms, she burned, she breathed, she lived.

"I warned you," he growled against her throat, pressing a kiss to her skin. "I am your fall."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breathless, reckless. "Then let me fall."

A sharp sound tore from his chest. And then the ground disappeared beneath her.

The wind howled, the river vanishing below, the garden shrinking into darkness. Elain clung to him, her breath stolen by the night, by the way his arms held her tight, as if he could no longer let go.

She didn’t know where he was taking her.

She didn’t care.

She had followed him into the dark.

And he had taken her with him.

#pro elriel #elriel #elriel supremacy #elain x azriel

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sukeruton-san · 1 day ago

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A Coffee Heart pt 2

First Next

There's a coffee shop in Gotham that allowed him way more caffeine than Amity allowed. . .

He likes it here he can have 21 shots of expresso and all he got was an eye roll with some grumbling about a guy named Tim and twins, it's great!!

_______________________________________________

___________A table in the far corner______________

Do I have a twin. . .

No seriously does he have an unknown twin cause standing at the register is a guy that looks so much like him, but not exact enough to be a clone.

We both have pitch black hair the same thick and soft kind but his is infinitely more fluffy and wild like his Red Robin look, bright blue eyes with analytical intelligents and slightly unhinged but his are more icey in color and somehow more dead inside,both our body types are small soft and lean with muscle, small waist, and rounded in the hips, shoulders in mid range, but he has more curves with his shape he's also worriedly more skinny to an unhealthy degree even in my standards, face shapes similar but his are little more angle too it, hell even our voices are similar his being softer and a little deeper than mine

What made me really catch my attention was the fact that he's coffee intake is just as death inducing as mine maybe even more deadly. Hes eye bags are worse then mine from what I can see from here which is across the fucking room.

So I have reasonably concluded that he is my twin. I mean there was a popular rumor that Janite was pregnant with twins and gave one up to adoption as soon they came out with how big she got. Maybe it was true when I am look at someone who has to be related to me.

Though this begs the question where he has been the entire time, He may be visiting with how he has an Midwestern accent but he also holds himself like an Gotham native.

hnmmmmmm. . .

What's he doing?. . .

He's comING OVER HERE ABORT ABORT ABO-

_______________________________________________

"Um you mind if I sit here for a little all the tables are full"

Why he look familiar? Have I seen him before? . . .

Wait that's Timothy Drake-Wayne Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises, I only know him because of the research binge for the Gothampedia and Tucker's fanboying.

He probably wants some privacy. . .

Probably to relax a little bit and be normal if he's just drinking some coffee in the back corner, alone. He looks nervous as hell too probably don't want any unwanted attention brought to himself, I sure as hell know the feeling

" No it's fine you can sit here "

Is it just me or does he look a little eager

" Cool I'm Danny by the way " sitting and taking a sip of his coffee he notices that Tim seems to be in some sort of dilemma with himself finally he asked

" So you happen to be around and about here often?" He drinks his own coffee

" No, just found this little shop" he cringed a little "I was draged here because my parents wanted to work on something here"

Tim Slightly invested slightly worried " What are they working on?"

" They uhh want to 'help make Gotham more prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world' their words not mine"tilting his head slightly to the left "to be fair I think the bats have all that covered, no need to interfere and cause more problems than what it's worth" grumbling under his breath " Don't want them to get on the bats radar cuz they are doing reckless shit and I have to clean it up"

_______________________________________________

Tim is slightly panicking now who are his twins adopted parents and why are they wanting to 'prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world'?

What does the haunting world mean?

What does he mean by causing more problems?

Are his parents escaped midwestern rouges or something?

Does he need to do a welfare check on him as Red Robin?

Also he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear that last part but that's just making him more worried.

How reckless can they get?

How many times has he had to clean up their messes?

What does he do. . .

(Thank you for helping me with the idea for the next chapter @ghostlysuitnight )

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #tim drake #dc x dp #dp x dc

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yassbishimvintage · 1 day ago

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Hearts on Deck (2)

A/N: Part two of Hearts on Deck

Over the next few weeks, Cleo barely had time to dwell on that night with Aaron. Work consumed her—photoshoots, brand deals, events, and endless meetings. Her schedule was relentless, and she let it be.

If she kept busy, she wouldn’t have to think about how often she caught herself scrolling past his name in her following list. Or how, every now and then, she’d notice him quietly liking a post of hers—never commenting, never drawing attention, just there.

Still, she pushed those thoughts aside.

Then, one day, her manager called with news.

"Pack your bags," she said. "We just locked in a campaign with a London-based brand. You’ll be flying out next week."

Cleo paused mid-sip of her morning smoothie. "London?"

"Yep. Big deal, too. High fashion, high exposure, all the right circles. Perfect for you."

London.

She hadn’t been there in a while. And yet, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t the campaign or the business opportunities.

It was Aaron.

She hadn’t spoken to him since that night. A few quiet Instagram interactions, sure, but no messages, no calls.

Still, as she sat there, the prospect of being in his city stirred something in her.

Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe she wouldn’t even run into him.

But as she stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over his name, she couldn’t help but wonder—

Should I let him know?

When Cleo touched down in London, she was immediately swept up in the whirlwind of work. The city, as always, buzzed with energy—traffic moving in a constant hum, people rushing in every direction, the air thick with ambition. But for Cleo, there was no room for distraction.

She barely had time to take in the sights of the city as her schedule kicked into full gear.

Meetings with the brand team. Photoshoots in glamorous studios. Press interviews. London’s high fashion scene was demanding, and Cleo was at the center of it all. She slipped seamlessly between different looks—fierce and confident for a runway-ready shoot, then effortlessly chic for an editorial spread.

There was no room for anything else.

But in the rare moments between appointments—on the car ride to the next shoot, during quiet breaks in the hotel suite—her mind still wandered back to Aaron.

Had he seen her posts? Had he noticed she was in town? She wondered if he was still following her updates, but she didn't dare check.

She had too much to do. Too many eyes on her, too many deals to seal.

Work kept her grounded, focused. It kept her from wondering if the city had a way of drawing people together or keeping them apart.

She was here for a reason, and that reason wasn’t about him. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

One evening, after a long day of meetings and filming content, Cleo found herself invited to a high-profile dinner. The kind of event where you’re surrounded by designers, influencers, actors, and models—all the industry’s top players gathered under one roof.

She arrived at the lavish venue, a sleek, modern restaurant tucked away in one of London’s upscale neighborhoods. The decor was minimalist but elegant, with soft lighting and an atmosphere that felt as curated as the guest list.

Cleo made her way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces and industry insiders. She had her guard up, staying focused on the task at hand, working the room, engaging in conversation. But then, something made her stop.

A familiar laugh echoed through the space—a sound she hadn’t realized she’d been craving to hear.

She turned slightly, her heart skipping a beat, and there he was.

Aaron.

He was standing near the bar, laughing with a small group of people. His presence was unmistakable, even amidst the crowd. He was effortlessly stylish, dressed in a tailored blazer over a turtleneck, his hair slightly tousled in that way that made him look both polished and laid-back at the same time. His hazel eyes caught the light in the room, and for a moment, Cleo couldn’t breathe.

She watched him, not wanting to seem obvious, but not being able to look away. There was something magnetic about him—how he carried himself, how he interacted with people, how he made a room feel smaller and warmer just by being in it.

Then, he turned his head slightly.

Their eyes met across the room. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to still.

Cleo felt a flutter in her chest, but she quickly steadied herself, reminding herself that she wasn’t here for this.

Aaron’s gaze lingered just long enough for her to catch a glimpse of that same quiet intensity. But then, he smiled—a subtle, almost private smile that felt like an invitation.

She had a choice.

To walk over. To acknowledge him. To see where this might go.

Or to stay focused, to keep moving through the night.

Cleo took a deep breath. The pull of curiosity was there. The question of what could happen if they spoke again was on her mind. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to let that feeling take the lead.

Instead, she turned her attention back to the conversation she’d been having, keeping her gaze steady ahead.

But she knew one thing for certain.

London had a way of bringing things full circle.

And this? This encounter was only the beginning.

Cleo stiffened slightly, the gentle touch on her shoulder sending a jolt through her. She knew exactly who it was before she even turned around.

She didn’t need to look, but she did anyway. Slowly, deliberately.

Aaron.

He stood behind her, his smile easy, but there was something in his eyes—something soft, like he had been waiting for the right moment to approach. His voice was low and warm, just for her. “Cleo.”

She swallowed, feeling a mix of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite place. “Aaron.” She kept her tone casual, but inside, her pulse quickened.

The space between them suddenly felt smaller, and all the noise of the room seemed to fade into the background. She could hear the slight edge of his accent in his voice, the familiar sound she had replayed in her head more than once since their last encounter.

He tilted his head slightly, glancing at her, a subtle glint in his eyes. “Funny running into you here. Didn’t expect to see you at this thing.”

Cleo smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “London has a way of surprising you.”

He laughed softly, a quiet sound that made her heart skip. “You have no idea.” His gaze flickered over to the crowd, then back to her. “Mind if I steal you for a second? Or are you busy?”

Cleo hesitated, weighing her options. She could stay in the crowd, go along with the dinner and the event. But something about his presence was drawing her in, making her want to break away from the carefully constructed façade she’d built for herself.

With a small nod, she finally said, “I think I can spare a few minutes.”

Aaron’s smile deepened, a little relieved, as he stepped back to let her lead the way.

The moment felt lighter somehow—no longer just a chance encounter, but something more. Something new.

As they moved away from the hustle and bustle of the dinner, Cleo couldn’t help but wonder what this moment would lead to.

“For a recluse you’re out in the open.” She says.

Aaron chuckled softly, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “I guess I have my moments.” He glanced around, taking in the lively scene before them. “But sometimes, the right crowd can make things feel less... overwhelming. This doesn’t feel too bad.”

Cleo raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “And you’re really telling me you’re comfortable in a room full of people?”

He shrugged, a little self-deprecating, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m more comfortable in smaller spaces. But every now and then, I don’t mind stepping out of my shell. Just to keep the peace.” His gaze locked with hers. “Though, I’d say I’m happier when I’m just talking to you.”

Her breath caught for a moment at his sincerity, the directness of his words making her feel like the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

She shifted slightly, trying to keep her cool. "You’re good at this," she said, trying to make light of the sudden weight in the air between them. "You make it sound easy."

Aaron leaned in just a little closer, his voice low. “It’s easy when it feels right.”

Cleo could feel her pulse pick up again. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Her mind was racing. Aaron was a man of few words, but when he did speak, it carried weight. There was something undeniably magnetic about him.

“Well, I’m glad this feels right.” She smiled, but inside, she couldn’t help but wonder how much of that pull was just the moment, and how much of it was something deeper—something they couldn’t ignore.

As the first notes of Jon B’s “They Don’t Know” started to fill the air, Cleo couldn’t help but feel the shift in the atmosphere. The soft, smooth melody was familiar, nostalgic even, and it brought with it an unexpected sense of intimacy.

She glanced at Aaron, who seemed just as attuned to the change in the room. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin. “I didn’t take you for a fan of the classics,” he said, his voice low as the lyrics began to flow softly through the space.

Cleo smirked, though her heart skipped a beat at the thought of the song playing right now, of all moments. "I know a good track when I hear one." She wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt a little more vulnerable, a little more aware of him standing so close.

The song’s smooth rhythm seemed to echo her thoughts, stirring something deeper between them—something unspoken. It wasn’t the kind of music you'd expect to hear at a high-end event, yet it was as if the universe had just decided to press play on something that felt like it was made for this moment.

Aaron’s gaze softened, and for a second, he stepped just a bit closer, the space between them shrinking. “You know,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers, “I never thought I’d hear this song in a place like this. But it’s... fitting.”

Cleo tilted her head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words, but still keeping her composure. “Fitting for what?” she asked, her voice a little quieter now, the beat of the song giving everything a kind of timeless rhythm.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes searching hers, before he answered, “Fitting for us. The way this moment feels.”

Her heart skipped again. She didn’t have to say anything. The unspoken understanding was there, hanging in the air between them. The song seemed to pull them closer, in its own subtle way.

Cleo took a deep breath, unsure of how far she wanted to let things go—unsure of how much she was ready to give in to this pull. But the moment felt so natural, so easy with him, that she could almost forget everything else.

Jon B’s smooth voice floated around them, and for a brief second, Cleo allowed herself to lean a little closer, feeling the soft pull of the music and the chemistry between them. “Well, looks like we’re dancing whether we like it or not,” she said with a playful smile.

Aaron’s grin widened, and without saying another word, he extended his hand to her.

Cleo hesitated just for a second, but then, without a word, she took it.

“What do you consider us?” He asks. She shrugs. “I guess friends who go on dates?” She says.

Aaron’s eyes softened as he looked at her, his fingers still gently holding hers. There was something in his gaze—curious, yet vulnerable, as though he was waiting for her answer to mean something deeper.

“Friends who go on dates, huh?” he repeated, a small laugh escaping his lips, but it was a little quieter than usual. He shifted, still holding her hand as they swayed to the slow rhythm of the song.

Cleo shrugged, trying to keep things light, but her mind was racing. She hadn’t really thought about what they were. In the back of her mind, there had always been something pulling her towards him. But she wasn’t the type to rush into defining things. She wasn’t even sure if she was ready for that kind of conversation yet.

“I mean, yeah,” she said, her voice calm but her heartbeat a little faster than usual. “We hang out, we talk, we enjoy each other’s company. Isn’t that what a date is?”

Aaron gave her a soft, knowing smile, his thumb grazing over her hand. He looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. “I guess,” he said quietly, “but it feels like more than that to me.”

Cleo’s chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. She looked up at him, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came. There was a beat, a pause, where the whole world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I don’t want to rush anything, but... I feel like there’s something here. Something more than just friends. Do you feel it too?”

Cleo’s heart raced, and she suddenly felt the weight of the moment. Her instincts told her to be careful, to hold back. She didn’t know what to make of this feeling—of him. They had shared a connection from the moment they met, but this? This was different.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes avoiding his for a moment. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not sure what this is... yet.”

Aaron didn’t seem discouraged. Instead, he nodded, his expression softening with understanding. He gently squeezed her hand, a reassuring gesture. “That’s fair. We don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Cleo nodded, relieved by his calm response. “Yeah,” she said quietly, her gaze returning to his. “We’ll figure it out when the time’s right.”

For now, the moment was enough. The song played on, and they continued to sway together, the connection between them undeniable but still unspoken, floating between them in the soft glow of the evening.

At her hotel, she’s editing posts for her Instagram then she’ll turn her attention to her YouTube channel. Being a full time lifestyle content creator she had to stay on edge.

Cleo sat at the desk in her hotel room, the soft glow of her laptop screen lighting up her face. The steady rhythm of her fingers typing was a comforting sound, but in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but think about the night with Aaron—the conversation they had, the way he made her feel, and that unexpected pull between them.

But work was always her anchor. She couldn’t afford to get lost in her thoughts right now.

Her Instagram posts needed editing first—captions, hashtags, filters—all the details that made her content stand out. As a full-time lifestyle influencer, it was a game of keeping everything fresh, relevant, and engaging. Her followers expected consistency, and she never wanted to fall short.

She scrolled through the photos she had taken earlier, adjusting the colors on one before moving on to the next. Each picture had its own story, each caption had its own voice. It was all about showing the world the side of her she wanted them to see—glamorous, yet real.

She sighed lightly, her mind briefly wandering back to Aaron. He had felt like a moment outside of all this—outside of the hustle, the branding, the influencer persona. She quickly shook her head, refocusing on her work.

Next up was her YouTube channel. The idea for her next video was already half-formed in her mind—behind-the-scenes footage of her day-to-day life, with a focus on some of her favorite skincare and beauty routines. Maybe she’d throw in a little Q&A with her followers to mix things up.

But before she dove into that, she had to make sure her social media platforms were all aligned. Her stories were updated with sneak peeks of what was coming, and she made sure to engage with the comments that were pouring in. She couldn’t afford to let her fans feel neglected, not when they were so loyal.

The pressure of maintaining this constant presence was always there, but it was something Cleo had learned to handle. It was a balancing act, keeping up with the demands of being a public figure, but also staying true to herself.

Just as she finished responding to a few comments, her phone buzzed on the desk. She glanced down, expecting it to be a work-related message, but saw a text from an unknown number.

She hesitated for a moment before opening it.

“Hey, it’s Aaron. Just wanted to check in and say I hope your day’s going well. Maybe we can catch up soon?”

Cleo smiled to herself, her heart skipping a beat. She had been wondering if he’d reach out, but seeing the message still surprised her.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she thought about how to respond. She didn’t want to seem too eager, but she also didn’t want to shut him out.

After a moment, she typed back:

“Hey, thanks for checking in. It’s going well, just staying busy as usual. Let’s catch up soon.”

She hit send and sat back, feeling that familiar rush that came with communication in the digital world—always a mix of excitement and a touch of uncertainty.

She quickly refocused on her YouTube plans, but part of her was already looking forward to whatever would come next with Aaron.

Soon a post from the event she recently attended she was tagged in. And so was Aaron.

Cleo’s phone buzzed again, this time with a notification from Instagram. She unlocked it and saw a new post from the event she had attended recently. It was a photo of the crowd, taken from the side, capturing a moment of laughter between her and Aaron. In the shot, they were both caught mid-conversation, her hand gesturing animatedly, and Aaron looking at her with that easy smile of his.

She felt a sudden warmth flood through her. It was a candid moment, unposed, but it had captured something genuine. The kind of connection she didn’t always expect from the world of curated, perfect photos.

The caption was lighthearted, tagging both of them, with a playful nod to the chemistry between them.

"When two people from opposite sides of the world meet... magic happens. 👏 #LA #LondonVibes #EventVibes #NewConnections #AaronAndCleo"

The post already had a few thousand likes, and the comments were rolling in, mixing curiosity with excitement. People seemed to be taking note of the chemistry between her and Aaron, but the last thing Cleo wanted was to deal with the frenzy of public speculation.

She paused for a moment, staring at the post. The idea of being linked to Aaron in the public eye was both exciting and a little overwhelming. She couldn’t help but feel a little exposed, but she also couldn’t deny how much she appreciated the unexpected connection they’d found.

A few notifications popped up, and she saw that Aaron had liked the post too, his own comment under the photo:

"Great to meet you in person, Cleo. Looking forward to more conversations soon."

Cleo smiled at his comment, finding it both sweet and refreshingly simple. His words didn’t feel forced or calculated. It was just... real.

She considered responding but stopped herself. It wasn’t about playing games; it was just that she wasn’t sure what to say in front of everyone. She’d rather keep things a little more private, especially with the whirlwind of attention that came with their public interaction.

Instead, she decided to focus on the work at hand. She responded to a few more Instagram comments and then set her phone down to finish editing her YouTube content.

But even as she worked, a part of her couldn’t help but think about what this could mean. The public tag, the interactions—they were all signals of something bigger. She didn’t want to rush into anything, but she couldn’t deny the connection.

And as the notifications kept coming, she realized that no matter how much she tried to focus on her work, a small part of her was already looking forward to whatever came next with Aaron.

Tags 🏷️

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#aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre smut #aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #terry richmond #yassbishimvintage #Spotify

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siriuslylantsov · 5 hours ago

Text

be my valentine

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which, spencer asks you out after a hearty but incomplete info dump on the history of valentines day.

tags: fluff! idiots inlove, gn!reader, reader is briefly described as shorter than spencer, teasing!spencer, grumpy!reader, penelope is an angel and i love her so much, reader shitting on valentines day and raising some very valid points.

a/n: based on this request, second fic for the event!! i know its still four days till valentines day but! if i didnt get this done now it would've been late. i rewrote this THREE times... but i rlly like how this version came out! happy reading :)

wc: 2.1k

it's your lunch break and you’re glaring at yet another sappy couple that walks by you. grumbling, you take another bite of your blueberry muffin. spencer laughs from his seat in front of you, amused by how your lip curls into an irritated pout. the two of you had walked to a cafe, a brief reprieve away from the frenzied police department you were stationed at for this week's case.

“motherfuckers,” you seethe, still chewing your food. “i hate valentine's day.”

he laughs again, his tone sarcastic, “really, i never would’ve guessed.”

your glare shifts to him as you cross your arms. his grin is still there, annoyingly persistent, you hate that it doesn't affect him as much as it should. if you told him this, he would’ve told you that it didn't pack much of a punch.

you roll your eyes and continue with a heavy scoff, “it's just another fake holiday, you know. like mother's day. created by greeting card companies trying to commercialise a day that shouldn't even exist honestly. every day should be dedicated to showing your loved ones how much you care, not just 24 hours in the middle of february.”

he accepts your cynicism with a smirk, completely accustomed to it. he knows you don’t mean it, not entirely, you just like to rant. “you know valentines day actually goes back about 2000 years. i’m sure greeting card companies weren't around back then,” he corrects, biting his lip in suppression.

your eyes narrow into slits, feeling the faint shift in the air of an incoming info dump. you ignore the way you want to hear what he has to say and take a sip of your coffee instead. you stall to torture him a bit, it's funny how he squirms.

“really,” you drag out, stroking your chin in exaggerated contemplation. you stare at him knowingly, he wants to continue but he's waiting for you to give him the green light. you laugh quietly, mood already improved, “go on.”

spencer visibly brightens, sitting up straighter and hands springing into action. “well, valentine's day has a really fascinating and somewhat convoluted history,” he starts, almost giddily. “the earliest accepted theory can be traced back to the roman festival of lupercalia, which was celebrated from february 13th to 15th. it was a fertility festival dedicated to faunus, the roman god of agriculture, and it included a ritual where men would sacrifice a goat and a dog, then use strips of the goat’s hide to whip women-”

“wait, they used goat skin to whip women?” you interject, eyes widening incredulously.

“yes! they willingly lined up for it too, believing it would make them more fertile,” he explains, far too animated considering the context, but it's okay. you like his enthusiasm.

you grimace, “weird.”

“right. however, the day of love that we now recognise was brought by st. valentine, though which valentine is unclear—there were at least three martyred saints by that name. the most famous story involves a priest in third-century rome who defied emperor claudius ii's orders by secretly performing marriages for young soldiers,” he pauses to take a breath. you use it to bring your coffee back up to your lips, hiding your smile.

“claudius believed single men made better warriors, so he banned them from marrying,” he clarifies to which you nod. “when valentine was caught, he was executed on february 14th, which is why he’s the namesake of the holiday. some versions of the story even say that he sent a letter to his jailer's daughter signed ‘from your valentine’ which could be the origin of the modern tradition.”

“huh,” you pick your lip in thought, spencer hides the way his eyes dart down to them as you do it. “but that’s still an execution, how did it-”

the shrill tone of your ringtone interrupts you. “mhm, okay,” you respond when you pick up the phone. “we’ll be right there.”

spencer stares at you expectantly, reaching over to grab your bag. he secures it over his shoulder and stands up.

“it was jj,” you explain, stuffing the last bits of muffin into your mouth. “wi’ness ‘howed up.”

the food-muffled words make him chuckle and hold out a hand for you to get up. you let him pull you up with a dramatic huff, still holding his hand as you dust crumbs from your lap. you realise it a little too late and let go with a start, frown returning when you realise he isn’t going to let you carry your bag.

the walk back only took about five minutes before but this time's slower pace makes it a longer ordeal. comfortable silence brackets the two of you until it doesn’t when spencer speaks up.

“so, there's actually a lot more to the history of valentine's day. for instance, how the day became one of romance instead of, as you said, one that marked a martyrdom. we could, i don't know, discuss this properly over dinner. or drinks? or ice cream, i know that you like ice cream-”

filler words... he’s nervous. amid his rambling, he doesn't realise that you’ve stopped in your tracks.

“-we can do whatever you want, i don't mind.” when he looks beside him and doesn't find you, he turns around. he can scarcely read the expression on your face, he usually can. this causes a little bout of concern to bubble up, “what is it?”

“are you asking me out?” your question is immediate, blunt, as a confused crease forms between your eyebrows.

well shit, he was. his lips part as he processes what he just said, he looks a little like a deer in headlights the way he stares back at you. was that too much? are you mad? did you want him to ask you out? what if you say no? he should say something. what if he messes everything up? he can’t-

“spencer,” his name rings out softly, pulling him from his spiral.

his eyes snap to yours, searching, desperate to read between the lines, to piece together what you’re thinking like he always does—except this time, he can’t. he squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, “yes.”

he swallows hard and adds, “on a date.”

“i got that,” you murmur, stepping closer to him, and closing the distance that he unintentionally left.

his head dips, voice small. “i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

your head tilts slightly, studying him. “you didn’t.”

the reassurance eases him a little but not enough as the anxiety claws at him while he waits for your answer. your phone sounds again from your pocket, this time a text from morgan. you quickly type out a response–got lost, be there in 2. it's a pathetic excuse, if you focused, the station was in your direct eye line. but you needed to say something.

“okay.”

he can't help the sign of relief that slips out of him, you giggle at the sound. when he looks at you again, he's unmeasurably happy to see your poorly concealed smile, breaking out in his own matching one.

“yeah?” he asks sheepishly.

you nod, chewing your bottom lip, “yeah.”

your eyes squint at the corners, a side effect of the same grin that those sappy couples had been sporting, the same one that you’d been complaining about a little while ago. it makes you want to kick yourself, so you do the next best thing. you take hold of spencer's hand and drag yourself back to the pd. spencer shuffles somewhat behind you, trying to keep up with your stride. it doesn't take him long with those long legs of his.

his thumb strokes your knuckles gently–deliberately, you feel–but he pretends it's an unconscious action with the way his eyes are trained ahead. it makes you roll your eyes. when you near, you reluctantly let go of each other, the moment being the last time the two of you are alone for the rest of the day.

the team ends up solving the case a few hours later, taking the jet home where a valentines day baking spread is set up in the briefing room. all set up by the resident tech savvy. penelope tells you later that it took a whole week of convincing on her part, insisting that it would be quick and she’d clean up, and that everyone would get home to their own valentine's day plans in no time.

there are a few heart-shaped helium balloons floating in the corners, and pink streamers in easy to reach places. the room is drastically more inviting, maybe the tones of fuschia and bubblegum have something to do with that. a cake and a bowl of suspiciously dyed punch reside on the table, along with pink plates and cups.

“penelope,” you gasp when you see them.

perfectly curated baskets of chocolate and cookies and associated items for everyone. you pick up the one with your name on it and inside you find: a candle, your favourite candy tied together with a little bow and a letter signed ‘happy valentines day, sweetheart. love, penny xx’.

oh my god, you could kiss her.

“it's like christmas,” emily muses from the other end of the table. you hear jj mutter something in agreement. you peek over at spencer, it's probably the hundredth time that you've snuck a glance his way. his eyes were already on you every other time, only now they were accompanied by a pair of red heart-shaped glasses, the clear plastic lenses offering a perfect view of his hazel orbs. the picture makes you laugh to yourself, you can barely hear it echoing from his end.

about 30 minutes later, only the stragglers are left. in better words, the single people. the individuals with partners having rushed off to their own respective plans. you're making small talk with another girl who worked around the office when you feel a light hand on your shoulder, spencer nodding his head toward the elevator to signal your leave. you politely wish her goodbye and walk out with him.

“cute glasses,” you tease, bumping his shoulder with yours, though the height difference makes it so you're nudging his upper arm.

“yeah? i might get the lenses medicated, switch them out for my regular ones,” he jokes, his elbow nudging yours gently as he pushes the bridge of the glasses up the slope of his nose instinctively.

“good idea,” you nod.

“you think?”

“mhm.”

once again, he beats you to your bag, swiping it from your chair and carrying it along with his own. you meekly toy with the hem of your shirt as the two of you walk to the elevator.

“so, bummer that neither of us have plans today. it’s so early,” you say, being blatantly obvious with what you're suggesting.

spencer only offers you an indifferent “yeah, bummer” in response, walking in when the doors slide open. when you look at him though, he's anything but indifferent, the corner of his lip pulling up in a crooked smile, irritatingly smug. you don't know where he gets off on being so at ease but the expression on his face makes you scowl as you follow him in.

he is silent the whole ride down. you become increasingly annoyed, only faltering slightly when his hand reaches down to hold yours. his fingers thread between yours and you not-so subtly curl yours over his, ignoring the way he looks down at you.

you try not to smile at the domestic picture of the two of you walking out hand in hand. thankfully the basement is empty. he pauses between your cars and mutters a quick “see you monday” before loosening his fingers and turning to walk away.

“spencer,” you groan, almost a whine as you squeeze his hand before he can let go.

he responds immediately, without missing a beat, “yes, angel.”

fuck.

you want to melt but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “would you like to do something tonight?” you grit out begrudgingly.

“i would love to,” he agrees, pulling you closer with your hand. your gaze darts to the two bag straps on his shoulder and you realise he had no intention of letting you go just like that. so you shove him, a little hard that he stumbles a bit. he huffs a laugh and you shake your head dismissively.

he slowly, tentatively, dips down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the contact.

“how does thai food sound?” he asks, that same bashfulness creeping into his voice that you love so dearly.

“sounds perfect.”

you share another sweet smile that would probably make you gag from an outside perspective but now it just makes you feel dizzy. he leads you back to his car, muttering something about how he’ll pick yours up tomorrow morning. you want to argue with him but that same dizzy feeling stops you.

you can't help the dreamy sigh that slips out when he connects your hands again over the centre console. thank god for st. valentine, you think.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

im still taking more requests for the event so send them in!!

divider from @saradika-graphics

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #☆ alisha's 500 wtsily

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jujutsukgojo · 9 hours ago

Text

My uncle Sukuna

Sukuna x reader

Summary: You find a pink haired kid lost in a park who is looking for his uncle Kuna.

a/n: Fluff.

The sun shines brightly and the birds flow freely. Kids dance and run around while the parents talk among themselves. Everyone that runs into you is liable to get drop kicked, no matter the age. Normally, you’d never have thought that or feel this frustrated. However, today is just not the day to be around anyone's overbearing energy. All around with loud voices, kids with sticky fingers up their nose, ice cream on their face and dirt on their clothes from playing so much; joggers, dog walkers, all dumb shit. This wouldn’t have bothered you if customers and your manager weren’t dickwads.

You inhale deeply, smelling the scent of pretzels, freshly cut grass, and the specific fragrance that only sunshine can bring. The crisp and refreshing breeze blows against your skin. It is a beautiful day with ideal weather. If you could, you’d smile along with all of these happy faces.

To the left is an unoccupied bench. You sit down to rest your legs. If only the lighthearted laughter of the people could tear the memory of the events today. At work, two separate, problematic customers came in and somehow dipped themselves into toxic waste and gained the superpower to step on every one of your nerves as they annoyed, harassed, and threatened you. Naturally, the manager believed their stories. Now, you have to go to the director to report all three of them.

Thankfully, you were able to record everything with your phone that you hid secretly.

God, you’re going to lose your job.

You lower your head to your hands. Maybe you should be looking for a new job or preparing your meeting with the director rather than sit here in the park, letting those assholes get to you.

To your left you hear a sniffle. Just under a tree is a boy with cargo shorts and a snapback hat on his head. Underneath the dark cap are pink strands of hair. You mind your business and close your eyes. He’s probably upset about something with the playground. The boy goes to you and wipes his nose.

“Can you help me?” His small voice sounds unsure and sweet. He knows he’s not supposed to talk to strangers, yet he decided you seemed safe enough to ask for help. You don't have the energy for this.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I lost my uncle ‘Kuna.” Even though you are having a shit day, you can’t leave him here and risk something happening to him. You feel awful now, but it'd be ten times worse if something happened to the child. For a minute, you can suck it up and then go back to sulking.

“Alright, what’s he look like?” He taps his chin then raises his hand. “All the way up and has a skateboard! He’s got pink hair like me and he says he’s got lots of ink.”

“Okay, we’re looking for a bigger version of you with tattoos.”

“He’s ugly, though. Not me.” You chuckle and bend down to his height. “Welp, what’s your name? Mine is (Y/n).”

“I’m Yuuji!” He smiles and reveals a missing tooth. “Hi, Yuuji. Let’s go find your uncle Sukuna, eh?”

You walk with the boy hand in hand along the pavement. You politely gesture to men who somewhat fit the description. Most of them have hats on, so it’s a little difficult to see who they are but Yuuji swears they aren’t uncle Sukuna.

“Where’s the last place you saw him?”

“Mmm…there!” He points to his left. Of course, he points to the ice cream vendor. “Oh, really?” You drawl.

“Yep!” He's lying through his damn teeth.

“Mhm, we’ll go over there and ask the vendor.” The portly man hands a cone to a couple of kids who bounce happily. He tips his hat at them and goes back to mixing the contents in the tub.

“And get ice cream.” He smiles brightly at you. You frown and lower yourself. “Be straight with me, where’d you last see him? We can get a cone, but I want to know.”

Yuuji nods, slightly ashamed of his little trick. You walk to the cart so Yuuji can give the order. He picks vanilla and decides to eat it himself. “Okay, now where did you last see him?”

He hums and taps his little finger to his chin. “Mmm…I don’t remember.” He shrugs.

“Oh my God.” You groan, rubbing your eyes.

“He’s on a skateboard! He’s fast on it, too.” You sigh and hold Yuuji’s hand. He swings and sings as he skips beside you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was enjoying this. “There! Right there! Uncle ‘Kuna, I’m right here!”

You follow Yuuji’s pointed finger at a man who resembles him greatly, minus a few details. They share the same face and pink hair except Uncle Kuna has tattoos and is one hell of a man. He flips his board with his feet to tuck it under his arm.

“What the hell, kid! Didn’t I tell you to stay close?!” Yuuji hides behind your leg slightly. With a quieting voice, Yuuji mumbles, “I saw something.”

He sucks his teeth. “Fucking brat,” He grabs Yuuji by his head and brings him in to ruffle his hair. “Don’t do that shit again.”

You shift on your feet awkwardly. “So…I’ll get going. Nice to meet you, Yuuji, Uncle Kuna.”

“Sukuna. My name’s Sukuna.” He gazes into your eyes with a soft and yet curious focus. You suck in your lips as warmth flows through your body. “Bye Sukuna.”

“You don’t want to hang out with us? Uncle Kuna was teaching me to do a flip!”

You try to hide your smile and contain your laugh as Yuuji focuses on Sukuna’s skateboard. He fumbles the flip but is completely determined to not give up. “You’re looking good, Yuuji!” He needs a smaller board.

Sukuna looks at him with pride even though he’s failing. Yuuji growls when he falls again. “Here, lemme show you.”

Sukuna’s red eyes trail your figure and land on your face. “Would you like to see, poppy?” You nod and as smooth as silk, he does an experienced flip that you or any amateur couldn't perform. You clap your hands and chuckle. Although it was encouraged by his little nephew, you can’t help but think of Sukuna acting like a boy showing off for a girl. Back when you were younger, it was a secondhand embarrassment but now, strangely, you like it. At least when he does it.

Yuuji beams with pride. “Wanna go get some ice cream?”

“I just bought you some.”

Sukuna hums and asks, “I bet you didn’t pay for hers, did ya squirt?”

“Nope.” At least Yuuji’s being honest now.

“C’mon. I’ll get you some.” Sukuna flips his board to his hand. He gathers Yuuji in his other. “Just in case you try to run off again.”

You rub your arm. “I don’t want to impose-”

“You’re not. Let’s go.” He leaves no room for discussion. Instead, he walks away as if he runs the world. Sukuna fully expects you to follow him. Well, at least you’ll get ice cream.

You tell Sukuna your favorite flavor and he hands you the cone. His hand is calloused and bigger than yours. “Do you like it?” Yuuji’s toothless grin is wide and contagious. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Thank you, Sukuna.”

“Ahem!”

“Thank you too, Yuuji.” The boy nods and his dark brown eyes show the true color of honey as the setting sun shines on them. After you take a lick of your treat, you say, “We should get going. It’s sunset and I’m sure your folks would want you home. No reason to let Uncle Kuna get you in trouble.” You tickle Yuuji’s neck.

“Ah, my brother’s gone. The only people he has are me and the old man.” Great, now you’re a jackass. You stutter an apology which Sukuna interrupts. “It’s fine.”

His body seems tense enough for you to decide to take your leave.

“I’m so sorry. Um, I’ll see you around.” You turn away from them and wave. Even though what you did wasn’t bad, it’s still a little awkward and has now been made even more so since you’re running away.

“You can drop me off at home, Uncle Kuna!”

“We are going home.” Yuuji shakes his head at his uncle. “No! You drop me off and walk her home.” Sukuna scoffs at his nephew and smacks him on the head. The boys rubs his head. “Hey, don’t hit me after all I did!”

“What?” Your question turns their heads. It’s amazing how alike they look other than the age difference and tattoos. Yuuji puts his hat back on and gives you a toothy grin. Sukuna shuts him up by delivering another smack.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home.” Sukuna doesn’t get on his skateboard again the entire walk to his home. Apparently, you lack survival instincts, but he doesn’t give off creeper vibes. He’s intimidating and his compression sweater is doing him wonders. However, he isn’t scaring you. As weird as it is for someone who just met, it's comfortable. Almost as if you've known him for a long time.

Yuuji runs ahead and turns into a gate. Inside the barrier is a quaint home with a kid's bike next to the wall, and a few toys in the yard. He closes it and waves. “Bye, guys!”

You raise your eyebrow in confusion and look at Sukuna who sighs and walks away. “Bye, (Y/n)! See you soon!” His cute round face reveals a mischievous smile. By the curve of his lips and the gleam of his eyes, you start to realize what's just taken place. Back then, Yuuji wasn't lost at all.

“So…does your nephew do this often?” Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Nah, this is the first time.”

“Hm, so Yuuji played cupid and is trying to hook his uncle up.” You chuckle now that you think about it. “Aye, not my idea. The brat’s got his own annoying ways.”

The sun becomes even more beautiful as it lowers. The sky shows wonderous colors in the clouds, and a few lightning bugs float early. Sukuna side eyes you. “Did it work?”

“We’ll see.” A big smile blooms on your face, erasing the horrible day.

#ryoumen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk oneshot #yuuji itadori #sukuna ryoumen #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #uncle sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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abyssalwavezz · 23 hours ago

Note

ok since caleb is back i NEEDDDD to see him and zayne interact and they have like a rivalry since they’re all childhood friends in case infold doesn’t give it to me idk how it would work tho but i trust you

Fire and Ice

Author's note: I really almost went a very dark romance direction with this, but it would've needed to be multiple parts and Caleb would've been like a villain, so I did my best to condense it into a single chapter uwu plus, this is my first LADS fic, so I am really getting a feel for the characterization and what kind of storylines I want to write after so long of not writing fics.

Contains: College AU! Zayne x MC/YN x Caleb love triangle (except MC doesn't really like Caleb back) where Zayne ultimately wins over MC teehee, shameless cameos of the other boys because I can, and several time skips because yeah <3

Warnings: cursing I guess? and Caleb being kind of a creep lol but we all know he is one canonically anyway, and also this wasn't proofread because who has time for that

Word Count: 3,743

Class started at 9:00 today just like it did every other day. Today though, you were late. And of course, it was an exam day.

You jumped out of bed as soon as you realized it was 8:41. Could you get ready and make it across campus in 20 minutes?

Only one way to find out.

Had you looked at your phone, you would've realized that a certain someone had been trying to message you. But he was unable to since your phone was on DND. You were too busy throwing on clothes and making yourself look presentable to think about anything else, anyway.

Once you had an outfit on and had somewhat cleaned yourself up, you glanced at the clock on the wall.

8:53...shit.

On a good day, it took about 10 minutes to walk to this class. Today, you would have to run there in 7. If only you hadn't skipped running the mile for gym...

You grabbed your bag, keys, and phone (that you still hadn't looked at) before running out the door.

However, something very sturdy and tall stopped you halfway down the hallway.

"Oof," you grunted as you came into contact with this tall, sturdy thing.

Turns out, it was a person. The person who had been trying to text you all morning.

"Caleb! What the hell?"

You looked up at him in frustration.

"I'm trying to get to class! The one you should be in too? We have an exam!"

Caleb, who still hadn't actually spoken, only laughed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He clicked a few things on the screen before turning it towards you.

It showed an email from your professor to your class, letting you all know that he was sick and that both class and the exam was cancelled.

It took you a few seconds to decide if you were happy or upset about the situation. Ultimately, you decided you were happy.

"If your phone hadn't been on 'Ignore Caleb Mode,' this could've been avoided," he chuckled out, putting his own phone back in his pocket.

You finally got yours out and noticed that you had, in fact, missed three texts and four calls from Caleb.

The most recent one though, wasn't from Caleb. It was from Zayne. Just reading his name on your phone made your heart skip a beat.

"You wanna go get breakfast or something?" Caleb asked, snapping you away from your Zayne-themed thoughts.

Your eyes met his excited ones, but it only took him a second to realize what your answer would be.

"Come onnnn," he groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. "Your next class isn't until 12 and mine is at 12:30. You got some big plans or something?"

You hesitated. You weren't sure how much you should tell Caleb. He could be a bit funny about things sometimes.

"I...I told Zayne I would meet him for coffee after our class. Which has now been cancelled, so he texted me asking if I wanted to meet him earlier instead."

Caleb grew silent, whatever was left of his initial hopeful expression now nonexistent.

"Oh...I see. Forgot he was in our class too."

"Caleb, come on. How about I have dinner with you to make up for it? Whatever happened with you two anyway? We all used to be great friends."

He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking at the floor halfheartedly.

"Don't worry about it. Go have fun, I won't get in the way."

With that, Caleb walked away.

You sighed as you swirled the last bit of your now cold coffee around the bottom of the mug.

"And so then he just walked away," you said quietly, still not sure what you did to deserve that from Caleb.

You looked up at the dark-haired man in front of you.

Zayne hadn't said much yet, he was just listening to you go on and on. But this really wasn't out of the ordinary for you two.

"Never mind that! Tell me about your day so far Zayne. I have really been yapping since we sat down."

Zayne lifted the corner of his mouth in a small smile, breathing slightly through his nose before raising his mug to his lips for a drink, and then setting it back down.

"I wouldn't call it yapping. I enjoy listening to you speak, and it sounds like you had an eventful day right from the start."

Your face burned slightly from Zayne's words, and you prayed he didn't notice.

"But my day before now really only consisted of some early morning studying, if you really wanted to know."

You chuckled a bit and raised your eyebrow playfully at Zayne.

"Future Dr. Zayne needs to study? We should all feel a little better about ourselves then!"

Zayne shook his head at your comment, in the way he always does when he thinks something is funny but doesn't want to show it and give you the satisfaction.

"Everyone would benefit from studying. Some of us...more than others," he said so only you could hear, glancing at the farthest corner of the cafe.

You followed his gaze and saw what he was looking at.

At the table in the corner was the well-known quiet kid, Xavier. His head was down on the top of the table in its usual position, and even from where you were sitting you could hear his signature snores.

What was really funny though, was not Xavier, but something else.

There were three people sitting across from him at another table with their phones out, taking pictures of him sleeping. Their stifled laughs and giggles were infectious, and you realized it was the class clown group of Sylus and his two sidekicks, Luke and Kieran. They truly were always getting into trouble or causing it.

You snorted and quickly covered your mouth and nose with both hands, hoping no one heard it. But of course Zayne did, and even he had to laugh quietly.

After the moment passed and it got quiet again, you decided to ask Zayne the real question that had been on your mind. The same one you asked Caleb a couple of hours ago.

"So... what did happen between you two? There must have been something."

Zayne stared into his dry coffee mug, pushing his glasses up slightly with the tip of his index finger.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to, (Y/N)."

"You know what I'm talking about. Caleb? The three of us used to have so much fun together as kids. Then when we started college together, everything got so tense a few weeks into the first semester."

"There are some things that you don't know, and it would be better if it remained that way. At least...for now."

You knew not to push Zayne. And you did trust him, so you decided to leave it alone for the moment.

Hopefully you would get to the bottom of it, sooner or later.

The two of you had stayed at the cafe much longer than you meant to. So you decided to go through the to-go lunch line before Zayne walked you to your next class.

You wondered if Zayne knew how you felt at times like these. Of course he was smart, but was he able to tell how you truly felt about him? What would he think? What would he say, if he knew? There's no way he would feel the same, so would he at least still want to be your friend?

Stupid.

Once Zayne had gotten his food as well, he turned towards you but stopped before he moved any closer.

"(Y/N), don't move."

You clicked your tongue in fake annoyance and put your hands on your hips, putting all your weight onto one side as you glared at Zayne.

"Why? Is there a big spider on me or something?"

"Yes."

"What?"

You immediately froze, your bag of food falling to the ground with a slight plop noise. Then you screamed and flailed your hands around, trying to brush off whatever spawn of Satan was on you.

In the commotion, you lost your balance, and fell backwards, colliding with another person. Whoever it was broke your fall, at least.

"Ouch, my hand!" the person whined underneath you.

As quickly as you could, you got up onto your feet and saw a big brown spider on the floor, scurrying away from the scene.

Huh, so Zayne really was telling the truth.

Snapping back to reality, you bent down with your hand outstretched to help the purple haired boy up.

"I am so sorry. It's Rafayel, right? Is your hand okay?"

Rafayel groaned and rubbed his right hand with his left before making eye contact with you.

"No thanks to you. I need my hands for painting, you know."

Rafayel bent over to pick up his bookbag that had fallen down, and then shot you another look.

"But I suppose that spider was a fearsome creature. You're forgiven."

Before you could apologize again, he turned on his heel and marched away.

Blinking rapidly, you stood up straight and scanned the cafeteria. As you made eye contact with people, they looked away away in a hurry. All except Zayne, who stood holding your forgotten bag of food.

"Shut up, Zayne."

"But I didn't say anything."

Classes were now over for the day, and you thought it was strange that you hadn't seen Caleb anymore. Usually, he was waiting outside your classrooms whenever he could, almost like he had your schedule memorized and watched you from a distance somehow. To be honest, you wouldn't put it past him. He had always been super protective of you, which you appreciated. But sometimes, it could be a bit much. Especially as you have gotten older, and are starting to feel differently and do more things on your own.

Did Caleb...like you? Is that why he has been like that? Or was he just being the best friend he could be for you?

Nah, no way he liked you. You guys were just really good friends, and had been for years. That was enough for you.

Zayne, on the other hand, often had your emotions and thoughts in a knot. You couldn't put your finger on when exactly, but you had fallen for him as more than just a friend, and you thought about him often.

Would his lips be as cold as his hands usually were?

You shook your head, trying to shake the thought itself from your brain. No sense in getting too deep. Zayne was here for school and to become a doctor. And he could have anyone he wanted, so why on Earth would that person be you?

You decided to take a walk before it got too dark. After all, it would be nice to be by yourself for a bit since the day had been so chaotic so far.

Glancing out the window of your room, you tried to plan the route you would walk. But when you did, you noticed someone duck behind the bushes nearby.

What the hell?

Now curious about who was watching you in your own room, you decided to go around the back of your dorm building to try and catch whoever it was.

Once you were outside, you crouched a bit and tried to come around the corner of the building as quietly as possible. You took each step with a sense of purpose, willing the person to still be there. The bushes were now only a few steps away.

In a flash, you lunged, separating the bushes with your hands to find out who the creep was. But there was no one there.

Defeated, you plopped down onto the grass, trying to decide if you even wanted to go for a walk anymore.

"Whatcha doing down there on the ground?" a familiar voice behind you asked.

"Caleb!"

You stood up excitedly and clasped your hands together.

Caleb bent down to your eye-level and smiled, his usual sparkle back in his gaze.

"Were you lookin' for something?"

You shook your head, looking back over at the disheveled bush.

"No, it was really weird. I thought someone was watching me from the bushes right there. It's right underneath my window. I was gonna punch them in the mouth!"

Caleb coughed.

"Yeah, that is really weird. Anyway, wanna grab dinner soon? You offered, after all."

"Oh, sure! It's gonna get dark soon anyway, so no time for a walk after all."

You walked with Caleb to the cafeteria in silence. Usually the two of you would be talking about random things, whether that be you trying to decide on a major or Caleb's newest model airplane he built. But today, it was nothing. And you didn't really like that.

"Caleb, do you care about me?"

Your sudden question startled him, the silence around you quickly dissipating. But he didn't miss a beat.

"Well, of course I do. It's about time you noticed! But why are you asking?"

"Because I feel like you're hiding something from me. And so is Zayne, and it really bothers me. Today was especially bothersome."

Caleb sighed, opening the door to the cafeteria for you.

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes! I miss the two of you getting along. We had some great times."

Caleb grabbed two empty lunch trays and handed you one. You mumbled a quick thanks as you watched his conflicted facial expression manifest.

"We just had a fight, okay? That's all. Sometimes that happens and people aren't friends anymore."

You weren't satisfied. You knew there was more to it after the way he reacted earlier when you told him you were meeting Zayne for coffee.

"You're still leaving something out."

"What, you wanna know what we fought about?"

"Yes! Maybe I can help."

Caleb shook his head, reaching for a serving spoon to get some rice.

"Hmm, I don't think so, (Y/N). Not this time. This isn't like when we argued over the last Popsicle in Grandma's freezer."

"Oh, come on. I'm not a little girl anymore. You don't have to hide things from me."

He gripped the next serving spoon tightly, causing the food on it to wobble slightly.

"I know you aren't a little girl anymore, and that's part of the problem. You don't need me as much anymore."

"Caleb," you groaned, "You know I still want you around, no matter what. I love you, you know?"

Caleb's head seemed to be on a swivel, as fast as he turned towards you.

"You do?"

"Well yeah! You're my best friend."

Caleb's face fell slowly, starting with his eyebrows and ending with his lips.

"Yeah, best friends love each other, I guess..."

You followed him out of line to the closest table where he flopped onto one of the seats.

"I don't understand, Caleb. You don't want me to love you?"

"He does, but not in the way you are referring to, (Y/N)," a male voice said from behind where you were sitting. A voice you knew very well.

"Zayne?" you gasped. "How did you know I was here?"

You turned away from Caleb to look at him fully. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and the expression on his face was completely unreadable.

"This is usually the time you eat dinner, and I was hoping I would find you here. I did some thinking after our conversation earlier and wanted to talk to you."

A sudden loud noise caused you to jump. Looking towards the sound, you saw Caleb's tight fist against the table, surrounded by stray grains of rice.

"You've got a lot of nerve comin' up to our table right now, Zayne."

"I suppose I have just as much nerve as someone who enjoys stalking women due to their own insecurities."

Caleb stood up from the table, attracting the eyes of other students sitting down for dinner.

"Um, guys. Maybe we should all go talk outside?"

You felt something cold against your hand, and then another on your cheek.

They were snowflakes from Zayne's Evol, melting against the heat of your flushed skin.

You quickly glanced at Zayne, who was completely focused on Caleb. He hadn't even realized that he was causing them to appear in his emotional state.

A few of them stuck to your eyelashes, but you quickly blinked them away, risking a look at Caleb.

He was just as focused on Zayne, his jaw set in place and his hands now gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles.

"I think that's a great idea," Caleb spat, still not breaking eye contact with Zayne.

Without another word, he stomped towards the door, bumping Zayne's shoulder on the way by.

Though you hadn't moved, you felt out of breath as you finally met Zayne's eyes.

He was stoic, the anger he felt inside radiating off of him like a heatwave.

"Sorry about the snow," he said quietly.

You shook your head.

"What is going on? This is the first time the two of you have interacted in a long time, and it's already going to shit."

"He wants you all to himself, (Y/N). And that is just something I cannot abide."

"He what? Zayne, what-."

Before you could finish, he left to walk outside as well, taking the remaining snowflakes with him.

You ignored the onlookers and the mess left on your table before following after them.

Once you had them in your sights, you realized Caleb was getting in Zayne's face, challenging him to make a move.

Your walk turned into a run so you could catch up to them in the clearing that they were in behind the cafeteria. It seemed that they were in the middle of a new argument.

"...doesn't know what she wants. How would you know, nerd?"

"You aren't right for her, and you act strangely when it comes to her. What would any sane person think?"

Caleb was getting loud, but Zayne was speaking in his usual measured tone.

"What is going on?"

The boys froze, seeing that you had followed them outside. Caleb started to back away, and Zayne cleared his throat, moving to push up his glasses before realizing they weren't there.

"Explain yourselves. Now."

They didn't start talking right away. Instead, they took a step farther away from each other and stood silently.

"I mean it. You two are acting so damn weird. I don't deserve this."

Zayne sighed.

"She's right, Caleb."

Caleb crossed his arms.

"Yeah, I know."

Zayne started speaking first.

"When we first came here, Caleb and I had a conversation. About you."

You didn't say anything, in fear of causing them to change their minds about telling you.

"(Y/N), I was going to let you know that...that I felt a different way about you now than you might've expected. And I told Zayne about it, thinking he would support me."

"Except I found out about the...peculiar ways he chooses to look out for you and protect you. And I let him know that I strongly disapprove of his intentions."

Caleb glared at Zayne once more, and you shushed him when you saw that he was opening his mouth to fuss at Zayne.

"You follow me around to classes and stuff right? I figured. And I'm now guessing that was you in the bushes earlier?"

Zayne raised an eyebrow.

"I don't need you to watch over me like a hawk, Caleb. I am a grown up, a grown woman. And I can take care of myself."

His head lowered slightly, a hand meeting his neck to rub it awkwardly.

"I know it comes from an honest place in your heart, but I need you to stop. And..."

You hesitantly reached out to touch his arm.

"I'm sorry, but you're like my brother. I love you...in that way. Do you still want to be around me?"

Caleb sighed, laying a hand over top of yours.

"You can't get rid of me that easily. I will always be around. In whatever way you want, pipsqueak." Caleb flashed you a sad smile.

You let out a nervous chuckle, glad to see that he took it at least somewhat well. Never in your life would you have expected Caleb to have a crush on you. But you knew you didn't want to lose him, no matter what.

"Zayne..." Caleb said, turning away from you and letting his hand fall away, "I'm sorry, man."

"It's alright. I look forward to moving past this with you."

Caleb nodded without speaking, and then he walked away. You decided you wouldn't call out for him since he seemed like he needed some time alone.

That just left you with Zayne and the awkward space between you.

"Zayne..." you began.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something now?"

A glimmer of hope could be felt, deep within the pit of your stomach. You couldn't stop thinking about something Zayne had said a few moments ago, and though this might not be the best time, you figured it was as good a time as any. If Caleb could do it, so could you.

"Anything. And for what it's worth, I am sorry too. Our behavior was inexcusable."

"What exactly did you mean earlier? When you said he wanted me all to himself? I thought you were upset with him because he chose to look out for me in unique ways."

The edges of Zayne's ears turned red, and he placed a hand against his chin, refusing to look directly at you.

"Were you...jealous, too?"

Zayne remained still and quiet, not sure what to say next.

"Because I really like you. I have for a long time. And no, I know what you're thinking...I am not just saying that because of what happened tonight. Actually it kind of inspired me to tell you."

Something suddenly caused your eye to water. You rubbed it hurriedly, then pulled your hand away to see a trail of moisture run down your thumb. But not long passed before you figured out what it was, a white speck falling in front of your field of vision giving it away as it landed on your outstretched hand.

"I wouldn't call it jealousy but..."

You shivered slightly as the snowflakes turned into a small flurry.

"I knew he wasn't right for you. And...one can have hopes."

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #zayne x reader #caleb #sylus #rafayel #xavier #zayne #mc #y/n #reader insert #x reader #lads x reader #luke #kieran #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #zayne x mc

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pretentious-blonde · 1 day ago

Text

for you? always

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you’re unravelling—badly—but steve refuses to let you fall apart alone

warnings: toxic work environments, crying, SWEET STEVE OMG

a/n: i made a part 3 but can be read as a STANDALONE, and once again, it is hurt/comfort. i just love sweet steve!!

if people want another part i am down. pt. 1 pt. 2

It might be an exaggeration, but Steve Harrington didn’t think life could get much better than this.

He was standing behind the counter at Family Video, half-listening to Robin as she complained, not really giving her his full attention. She could have been ranting about his terrible sorting system, or the stain on the carpet neither of them had managed to get out since last week. He wasn’t too sure. His focus was more invested at the clock on the far wall, waiting for it to hit 6 p.m.

It was Friday night, closing time. Normally, he’d be stoked to clock out and get home, maybe lounge around or hang with the kids. But for almost four weeks now, his evenings had been filled with something—someone—more exciting.

He was aware of how annoying he had gotten. Hell, even Robin teased him about it, calling him the “lovesick puppy,” for the amount of times he was caught staring out the door wistfully, hoping you would wander in on your lunch break.

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Plus, if he could put up with months of her pining after Vicky, she could put up with it for a little while longer.

Four weeks—four perfect weeks since that first time you let him take you out for dinner. He brought you to Enzo’s, the fanciest spot in town, really trying to impress you.

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face remembering it: the two of you tucked into a booth, your eyes lighting up when you tasted the pasta, holding it up for him to try it from your fork, your giggle when he got some of the sauce on the side of his mouth. He became acutely aware of your laugh, actually. It was quickly becoming one of his favourite sounds.

After he’d driven you home that night and dropped you off at your door, he’d stood there, wanting so badly to kiss you, but also not wanting to assume just because you let him before, he could do it again.

So, he’d leaned in awkwardly, maybe an inch too far, and you’d given him the sweetest little smile that told him to relax and pulled him in the rest of the way. That moment was etched into his memory, something he found himself revisiting over and over.

And from there, it had only gotten better.

The second date at the local diner (you’d shared fries with him and stole a sip of his milkshake), the movie night where he insisted you pick the snacks—any snacks, your call—and still ended up grabbing M&Ms halfway through the film, claiming it was for “variety.” Then there was the afternoon you invited him over to bake cookies—insisting it would be a fun bonding activity—only to end up with flour in your hair and half the dough on the floor, while Steve practically bent over double laughing at how grumpy you looked in your patterned apron.

And that perfect night at Lover’s Lake. God, he was happy you hadn’t grown up around here. He took full advantage of your lack of knowledge about the location. It was magical, lying on a threadbare blanket underneath the stars. You’d called him “a total sap” when he waxed poetic about constellations he barely remembered the names of.

He had caught you smiling at him like he’d hung the moon himself. He’d stolen a kiss—okay, maybe two, or three—when you’d turned your head toward him, and the surprise on your face melted immediately into something so soft. It made him sure you were feeling the same as him. By the time he was driving you home, hand resting on your thigh, you both felt like you’d just lived out a scene in one of those old romance movies he pretended not to like.

Then came your visits to his territory. He could still picture the day you stepped through the door, a shy smile on your lips. He tried to maintain some level of professional cool, but the moment Robin saw you, she took it upon herself to tease him relentlessly. “So you’re the one Harrington won’t shut up about.”

He’d glared but couldn’t hide the flush in his cheeks. You’d just grinned, leaning against the counter, and introduced yourself to Robin, who then spent the rest of the shift chatting with you while Steve tried to play it cool and failed miserably. Yet somehow, that failure felt okay—good, even—because seeing you click so easily with his best friend just made his day sweeter.

Yes, the last month had been a whirlwind—one that left him with a permanent giddy glow. He liked you, really liked you, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. And it wasn’t just because you looked great in every light—though, let’s be honest, that didn’t hurt—but because you seemed to get him. You found humour in his dumb jokes, shared your own stories with him, and let him into your life without any of the hesitations or expectations he’d grown used to.

Even Robin had mentioned how he didn’t snap at customers as much. He threw a glance in her direction, who was now tapping her fingers on a shelf impatiently.

“Dude,” she said, rolling her eyes, “if you stare at that clock any harder, it’s gonna melt.”

“Give me a break,” Steve smirked, flicking his gaze back at the time. “I’m just… in a good mood, okay?”

“You just want to get out of here to see your girlfriend,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“She’s not my—” He paused, the flush creeping over his cheeks again. “We haven’t exactly— I mean, yeah, we’re kinda… I dunno, it’s been a few weeks. She might be my girlfriend.”

Robin laughed, smacking him lightly on the arm as she approached. “You’re so far gone, it’s painful to watch. Honestly, it's jarring watching you be all heart-eyed lately.”

He wanted to deny it, but instead he found himself laughing too. Was it that obvious? Judging by the glances from Robin and the kids—especially Dustin—it definitely was. But he couldn’t bring himself to care; if being obvious meant you were in his life, then so be it.

Finally, the clock hit closing time. Steve turned, circling the counter to the front entrance. He flipped the sign to “Closed,” already imagining what he might do for the rest of the night.

You told him to come over that evening at around half past, maybe order some late-night takeaway, or go for a drive, or just hang out on the couch, do nothing but talk about your days. It all sounded equally perfect to him.

As he began turning off the main computer, the store’s phone rang, shrill and unexpected in the quiet. He exchanged a puzzled look with Robin.

Who the hell was calling this late?

You arrive at your apartment with shoulders hunched. Your day at The Hawkins Post had been a complete train wreck. You’d expected to face challenges when you got into journalism—no one just handed out dream assignments on a silver platter—but you hadn’t expected to be treated like the office errand girl.

All day, you’d been fetching coffees, photocopying pages, and biting your tongue whenever they cracked jokes at your expense. You told yourself you could handle it, that it was just part of paying your dues. But this afternoon, when they were brainstorming story ideas for the week’s paper, you’d jumped at the chance to volunteer something—anything. Before you could even get more than a sentence out, they’d laughed it off, practically shooing you out of the room.

You clenched your fists, trying not to let tears burn at the back of your eyes as one of the senior editors—some balding guy who’d never bothered learning your name—actually said: “Why don’t you just get us another round of coffee, alright hun?”

You’d never felt so small in your life.

Now, alone in your living room, the tears finally came. Hot, embarrassing, unwelcome. You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag aside, your mind buzzing with memories of the condescending smirks you’d gotten. It felt like a punch to the stomach. Made you question what you were even doing there.

The clock on your bookshelf read 6:00 p.m. That meant Steve was probably about to close. You’d said something about grabbing dinner, or even just hanging out at your place to watch that cheesy horror flick you’d both joked about. Normally, the thought would make your heart lift. But right now? You felt too raw to face him.

Not that you didn’t want to see him—you did, desperately. But something inside you balked at the idea of letting him see you like this: tear-streaked, puffy-eyed, humiliated. It’s too soon for that, you had only known him for about a month. No point in handing him your emotional baggage just yet. Maybe that was a two or three month sort of milestone.

With trembling fingers, you picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d scribbled on a scrap of paper “just in case” you needed him. A part of you wished you had the strength to ask for him, to ask for comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

It rang a few times, and your stomach twisted painfully. Then, his voice came through, warm and cheerful, exactly what you needed and exactly what you felt you didn’t deserve right now.

“Steve?” you asked hesitantly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve’s tone instantly made your eyes sting with fresh tears. “I’m just finishing up here. Shouldn’t be too much longer. You alright?”

You swallowed, forcing your voice not to crack.

“Uh… yeah. I mean—no, not really.” You cringed at how shaky you sounded. “I’m not feeling so great, so, um… I think I’m gonna have to cancel tonight.”

There was a moment of silence, and you could practically hear his eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, really? You sure you’re okay? Like fever or something? I can—”

“N-no, I promise, I’m good,” you cut in too quickly, wiping at your cheeks even though he couldn’t see you. “Just think I need some rest.”

“Right. Yeah, okay.” He sounded so disheartened. You didn’t like disappointing him. “If you need anything, will you call me? I can be there in like ten minutes.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, guilt gnawing at you. He was so sweet, and you were lying. Well, half-lying. You weren’t okay. But you couldn’t tell him that. At least not yet.

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured instead. “Just… sorry to cancel.”

He hesitated, that warm voice going even softer. “No, don’t worry about it. Feel better, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Steve,” you said, barely keeping it together. “Talk later.”

You hung up before your voice could betray you. The moment the line clicked, you tossed the phone aside, heart feeling heavier than before. God, you just hoped he wouldn’t be upset—or that he wouldn’t pry deeper. You didn’t trust yourself not to break down if he asked the right questions.

Still, a tiny part of you wished he’d come anyway.

Steve set the receiver back on its cradle, staring at the phone for a moment longer than necessary. His stomach did a little flip, the kind it did when something was wrong. He could usually read you pretty well by now—your moods, the subtleties in your tone. And that phone call? It screamed distress.

Robin, who’d been watching from across the store, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, glancing at her. “She canceled.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Robin’s face immediately fell into sympathy. “That really sucks.”

He shook his head, grimacing. “No, I don’t think it’s… I mean, I hope it’s not that. She sounded off, like… said she wasn’t feeling well.”

Robin tilted her head. “She’s sick? Flu or something?”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip, trying to reconcile the tension in his gut. “She said she just needs rest. I offered to bring her something, but she shot it down.”

Robin gave him a long look, then sighed dramatically, piecing together the puzzle.

“Harrington, come on. You told me she just moved here, right? She’s got no family around? No close friends yet?”

“Yeah, she’s new,” he admitted, mind flashing back to the time you mentioned how weird it was living in a town where you barely knew anyone.

Robin folded her arms. “So, if she’s not feeling great, she’s gonna be alone.”

“Yeah,” Steve repeated, slower this time. A prickle of realisation stirred in him.

“Which might mean,” Robin continued in her usual exasperated tone, “that you, as the devoted whatever-you-are—boyfriend? friend? something—should maybe check on her anyway.”

His eyes widened. “But she said—”

“People say a lot of things,” Robin cut him off. “Sometimes they don’t want to feel like a burden. Or they’re embarrassed. You, of all people, should get that, right?”

A flicker of memory—Steve himself blowing off concerned offers because he didn’t want to look weak—made him swallow hard.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “You think the pharmacy’s still open?”

Robin gave him a small, genuine smile. “Definitely. Swing by, grab some tea or cough drops, or whatever else might help. And maybe the grocery store for soup.”

Steve nodded firmly, adrenaline already buzzing in his veins. You’re alone. You’re upset. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let you suffer through that. Not if he could help it.

“You’re a genius.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here.” She waved him off. “And call me later—if you’re still alive. Just in case she actually has the plague or something.”

“Ha-ha,” he shot back as he flew around the counter, grabbing his jacket and headed for the door.

Steve hovered outside your apartment door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, an overstuffed bag clutched in one hand. He’d stopped at three different stores, grabbing tea, soup, your favorite candy, a variety of painkillers—everything he could think of to help you feel better.

Maybe he was totally wrong about the situation. I mean, hey, it wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe you truly wanted space. Maybe he’d overstepped. Maybe he’d come off overbearing.

But the memory of your shaky voice on the phone nagged at him. He couldn’t just stay away. You’d insisted you were fine, but your voice cracked at the edges. Better to let you tell him in person than for you to suffer in silence. So he took a breath, rang the doorbell, and braced himself.

When you opened the door, it was worse than he expected. Way worse. Every bit of resolve he’d mustered wavered.

You were still in your wrinkled work clothes, eyes red, cheeks blotchy. It was obvious you’d been crying, and the sight of it knocked the air from his lungs. Instantly, all of Steve’s doubts vanished, replaced by a need to do whatever he could to help.

“Hey,” he said softly, attempting a small, reassuring smile. You looked ready to apologise, but before you could say a word, your eyes brimmed with fresh tears. His heart clenched as he gently pushed the door open wider and slipped inside, letting the bag drop beside him.

“Hey, c’mon,” he murmured, pulling you toward him immediately. Not expecting to find you in this state, but nonetheless prepared to help. “It’s okay. Talk to me, yeah? Are you—are you feeling sick, or…?”

You stood there, overwhelmed, arms shaking as you let yourself cling to him. Steve’s heart ached—the same way it did when he saw one of the kids upset, except this was deeper, more urgent.

Your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you closed your eyes and sank further against him, your breath catching in a muffled sob.

It was all he needed to hear.

He readjusted his arms to fit you better, cradling the back of your head, letting you cry into his shoulder. He could feel how shaken you were, how close you were to coming completely undone. It made him want to bury you in every comfort he could possibly give.

“Shh,” he whispered, voice steady. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re alright.” He didn’t know if those things were true, but by the end of the evening, he would make sure they would be.

You pressed your face into his chest, holding him like he was the only solid thing in your life right now. He felt the tremor in your shoulders, the ragged rise and fall of your breaths, and it lit that familiar spark inside him—he needed to fix this. Except he didn’t know how yet. But he would try. So for now he just held you, gently running his hand across your back.

Eventually, he guided you away from the door, nudging it shut behind him with his foot. He decided it would be better to get you settled before trying to get you to talk.

“C’mon,” he murmured, leading you to the couch. “I…I brought a bunch of stuff—tea, soup, that candy you like…” He tried a tentative smile, but worry still ached in his gut. Those things seemed rather redundant now that he spoke them aloud. When he looked at you, it appeared you didn’t even register what he was saying. Whatever was ailing you, it certainly wasn't the flu.

“Hey,” he said again, voice hushed so as not to scare you. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” His gaze flicked over your tear-stained cheeks, and you could practically feel the genuine concern radiating off him. “I just… I want to help. I can’t help until you tell me what’s wrong. So… let me try, okay?”

His words hung in the air, soft and pleading. There was so much earnestness in his eyes, it almost hurt. He was trying so hard, and you could tell he was moments away from offering every solution under the sun.

That was who he was—a guy who dove in headfirst, wanting to protect and fix. And though part of you still felt hesitant, the rest of you knew you needed him right now. His soft, brown eyes begging you to let him in.

It would be cruel to tell him not to worry, especially since he already saw the state you were in. You took a deep breath as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Work was… hard,” you start, voice trembling on the last word.

Steve nods, encouraging you to continue. “Yeah?” He scoots a little closer. “Tell me about it, angel.”

You bite your lip, hesitating. The humiliation still burns in your chest, but as soon as you see the concern in his eyes, the words begin tumbling out.

“All the guys at the paper,” you say, swallowing hard, “they basically laughed in my face today. I wanted to pitch an idea—I thought, maybe if I showed some initiative, they’d take me seriously.” You pause, a bitter laugh escaping your throat. “Turns out, they don’t.”

He inches forward, the couch creaking beneath his weight. “They laughed?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, blinking away tears. “The whole room, practically. They didn’t even let me finish. Just told me to go make more copies or bring them more coffee. I felt so stupid. Like I’m not cut out for any of this.”

Your voice cracks, and Steve’s expression tightens with empathy. He raises a hand to your cheek, carefully brushing away a stray tear with his thumb before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know how you feel,” he says softly. Then he corrects himself with a small shrug. “Well, not exactly. I know someone else who went through that crap. I don’t know the full story, but from what I heard, it was awful.”

Nancy let slip here and there snippets from her time at The Hawkins Post. The incessant ridicule, the constant demeaning remarks. It irked him then, but now? He was vexed. Grown men picking on you all for a power trip? Unbelievable.

He had to school his anger before he said something regretful, he always did have a sharp tongue. What you needed now was comfort, not someone going on a rampage on your behalf.

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah. But you know what I do know?” Steve continues, his voice dropping to a firm, truthful tone. “Those guys? They’re idiots, alright?”

“Maybe…” A shaky laugh escapes your lips, and you sniff, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “They made me feel like a complete joke.”

“No way. Not even close.” He shakes his head firmly, like he wants to banish that thought forever. He won’t allow you to linger in self-doubt. “You’re brilliant. Look, you picked up and moved across the country by yourself, found a place to live, and started a brand-new job in a town where you barely know anyone. That takes guts.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of the day pressing in again. “Feels like it was a dumb move,” you admit, voice quieter. “Like I’m playing dress-up in a grown-up’s world, and everyone else can see I’m an imposter.”

A flicker of protectiveness flashes across Steve’s face. He can’t stand the idea of you belittling yourself—he’s seen how you throw yourself into your work, how bravely you uprooted everything to move here, how determined you can be when you set your mind on something.

“Hey,” he says, tilting your chin so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Don’t say that. You’re strong, you’re smart, and if they can’t see that, well…” He shrugs. “That’s on them. They’re the ones missing out. I swear half those guys probably haven’t stepped foot outside of Indiana.”

When you lean into him, relief flickers in his chest.

Thank God, maybe he’s getting through.

He tucks you closer against his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide to do, you’ll crush it,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “I believe that.”

“Yeah?” you ask, voice thick.

“Absolutely.” He gives you a little squeeze. “You want a new job? You’ll find one. You want to stay and prove those assholes wrong? You’ll do that too. Just say the word, and I’ll be right there to cheer you on. Or beat them up, if that’s easier.”

Despite the tears still threatening at the corners of your eyes, you let out a half-chuckle. “I’ve never really been much of a quitter,” you admit, the first spark of determination returning to your tone.

“Didn’t think so,” he says with a grin, admiration evident in his voice. “Strong girl like you? You’re gonna do just fine.”

You nestle closer into him, thankful beyond words that he’s here, that he understands in a way you desperately needed someone to.

Steve’s just relieved that you’re letting him be the one to help you shoulder the weight. Something else he realised this evening was that he hates seeing you hurt, but if being here—listening, comforting—helps even a little, then it’s worth every second.

You exhale a shaky breath and smooth down the front of your shirt, eyes still puffy from crying. You feel lighter, like a burden’s been lifted just from having Steve here. Even with a hint of embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say, voice quiet. “For making you worry, I mean. I should’ve just told you what was going on.”

Steve’s gaze flicks over your face. “You didn’t—well, okay, maybe I was worried,” he admits, a tiny wry smile tugging at his lips. “But I’d prefer it if you just told me when you’re sad. I mean, I can’t fix everything, but I want to help—when you’ll let me.”

You nod, fingers picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I still feel bad for lying earlier. Telling you I was sick.” You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “You got me soup and everything.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, shifting with a touch of bashfulness. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t at least try to look after you?”

A beat passes, and then your eyes snap to his.

“Boyfriend?”

Steve freezes, colour blooming across his cheeks.

Shit.

“Uh… yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, that’s—what did you think we were doing? I figured we were… you know, dating. I pick you up, I pay for stuff, sometimes we—uh—we kiss—” He falters, stumbling over his words. “Not all the time, but—”

You press your lips together, fighting a smile as you watch him ramble. Something tender wells up inside you. It’s like he’s laid himself bare—admitting out loud how he sees you, how he sees this. And it’s so damn endearing you can’t help the small giggle that escapes.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you tease, reaching to gently poke his cheek.

He groans, cheeks going even pinker. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, covering his face with one hand. “I can’t believe—”

You place your hand over his, coaxing him to look at you. “I like the idea of you being my boyfriend,” you say softly, each word weaving comfort through the space between you.

“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and for a second, he looks almost boyish with relief. “You do?”

A small smile curves your lips as you lean in. “Yeah.”

You slide a hand to his cheek, guiding him into a kiss—slow, sweet, and laced with the warmth of everything you’ve been lacking back all day. He exhales against your mouth, shoulders easing with the gentle press of your lips. His thumb strokes lightly over your jaw as he returns the kiss, and you taste a hint of peppermint from the candy he’d been snacking on in the car. When he finally pulls back, breath a little unsteady, there’s a stunned happiness in his eyes.

“So…” he murmurs, voice catching in his throat. “I’m your boyfriend.” He tried to make it sound like a joke but you could see the question behind his statement. He wanted full clarification here. He wanted to hear you say it out loud.

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “Yes, Steve. You’re my boyfriend.”

“That’s—God.” He laces his fingers through yours, a giddy laugh bubbling from his chest. “That’s—yeah. Glad we cleared that up.”

You both end up in the kitchen soon after, unpacking the soup he brought. It’s nothing fancy—just store-bought chicken noodle—but it warms you from the inside out as you eat together, perched on stools by the counter. He slides you half the candy he picked up, and you pass the bag back and forth, bumping shoulders with quiet smiles. There’s something so normal about it—the day’s troubles left behind in another world.

Later, you curl up on the couch together, switching on the TV. Steve insists you get first pick after the day you had. You flick through the channels until you settle on some old sitcom that neither of you pay much attention to. You’re more focused on the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Eventually, the clock inches toward midnight. The hum of the television plays softly in the background as you shift to look at him.

“Hey, are you working tomorrow?”

He winces a little. “Yeah,” he says, regret threading through his voice. “’Fraid so. Saturdays are insane. I tried to switch shifts, but Keith was being a total pain. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t apologise,” you shake your head. “I was just wondering if… you wanted to stay here tonight.” Your cheeks warm slightly at the invitation. “I live closer, and I’ve got a spare toothbrush somewhere. Plus…” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze momentarily. “I’d really rather not be alone tonight.”

Steve’s eyes flicker with surprise and then a rush of tenderness. “You—you want me to stay? I mean, I don’t want to impose. Not like in a—like we don’t have to—I mean—”

You cut off his rambling by resting a hand over mouth. “Steve.” Your smile is gentle. “Stay the night, please? I’m asking you to.”

He searches your face, seeing sincerity there, and his entire demeanour softens. You’re too damn sweet for your own good, he swears.

“Alright,” he breathes. “Yeah. I’ll stay.” Then he leans in, pressing a slow, grateful kiss to your temple. “Thank you.”

Eventually, the two of you shuffle into your bedroom, quietly laughing as you rummage around for that spare toothbrush you promised. You lend him an old T-shirt that’s slightly snug across his shoulders, which only makes you giggle more. By the time you both slip beneath the blankets, the mood has shifted from the sadness of the day to the tenderness of tonight.

He wraps an arm around your waist, and you snuggle into his chest, breathing in his soft scent. For a moment, neither of you says anything—it’s enough just to lie there, safe and comfortable, heartbeats syncing in the quiet.

“Night, sweetheart.” He murmurs and you sigh in agreement, already being lulled into sleep. It’s a happy sound—one that makes him pull you closer as you drift off.

You stir awake to the warmth of Steve’s arm still draped over your waist. Morning light filters through the curtains, illuminating the little dust particles swirling in the morning light. The alarm you set starts to go off and he lets out a quiet groan, burying his face in the curve of your shoulder as if he can hide from the responsibilities of the day. You can’t help but smile, tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand.

“I don’t wanna go,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

You push a sleepy chuckle past your lips. “You have to—Robin would miss you too much.”

“No she wouldn’t.” He sighs dramatically, rolling onto his back and turning off the blaring sound. “Probably count it as a blessing not to put up with me for a whole Saturday.” But there’s a small, silly grin on his face that betrays the fondness beneath all the complaining.

A short while later, you’re both in the kitchen, sipping hastily brewed coffee due to your shared reluctance to get up. You lean against the counter, watching as he rubs sleep from his eyes and nurses his mug like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. You don’t say anything about the state of his hair, enjoying the way it falls messily across his forehead.

“You sure you’re feeling better?” he asks, gaze flickering over you, still laced with concern even though you’ve assured him more times than you can count.

You nod, a softer smile pulling at your lips. “I am. Thanks to you,” you add, nudging his foot with yours, blushing with how sappy you’re both being.

He tries for a humble shrug, but the flush creeping up his neck is unmistakable. “Anytime, angel.”

Before long, the clock reminds him that time is up. He slips into yesterday’s shirt—grimacing a bit at the wrinkles—and heads for the door. You follow, hands clasped around your mug. At the threshold, he turns to you, pressing a gentle goodbye kiss to your lips.

Then another.

And another.

“Steve, you’re gonna be late.” You let out an exasperated laugh, placing a firm hand on his chest.

He grins like a kid caught stealing candy. “What—trying to get rid of me already?”

“You know I’m not,” you sigh, rolling your eyes as you gently shove him. “I’m literally seeing you after you clock out!”

His voice lowers playfully as he backs out the door. “Damn right you are.”

He winks, then sets off, leaving you with a warm, tingly feeling long after he disappears from sight.

When Steve finally strolls into Family Video, he finds Robin already at the counter, re-shelving tapes. She glances up, raises an eyebrow, and greets him with a lazy wave.

“Hey. So… how’d it—” She stops mid-sentence, narrowing her eyes at him. “Wait a second.” She points accusingly at his shirt. “That is the same outfit from yesterday. You did not—”

“Whoa,” Steve lifts both hands defensively. “It’s not like that, okay?”

Robin sets down the tapes, folding her arms over her chest. “Then enlighten me. Because it sure looks like you had a fun night.”

“Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand across his face. “It was—look, it’s not what you think. She was having a rough time, I went to check on her, and… well, I stayed over. Nothing crazy.”

Robin cocks her head, curiosity replacing her initial look. “So she’s okay?” She may not know you as well as Steve did, but if you were important to him, you were important to her too.

“Yeah. She will be.” He nods, and a small, proud smile graces his lips. “My girl’s tough.”

Her eyes light up. “Your girl, huh?”

He bobs his head, trying to hide the giddy surge that washes over him. “Yeah. Officially.”

Robin squeals—actually squeals—and Steve flushes, glancing around to make sure there are no customers to witness it.

“We have to do a double date!” she says, practically bouncing on her heels. “We’ll get Vickie—”

“Rob,” Steve pleads, fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from curving up too high, “let’s not scare her off, okay? One step at a time.”

“Fine,” Robin huffs, but she’s beaming at him. “But soon. I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, yet there’s no denying the warmth in his expression. The truth is, he’s never felt so content. The memory of your smile still fresh in his mind, and the knowledge that, yes, you’re his girl. Officially.

“Yeah, we’ll figure something out,” Steve says quietly, stocking a few tapes behind the counter. His voice is softer than usual, carrying a note of contentment Robin hasn’t heard in him for a long, long time.

She shoots him a conspiratorial grin. “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, thinking of how you looked in the morning light, how sweet it felt to hold you close and kiss you goodbye. He looks out the window toward your apartment, knowing you’re going to be there when he leaves in a few hours. “Me too.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

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malsmind · 1 day ago

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more than we thought

a bsf!matt x bsf!reader series by @ 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹

chapter 2

warnings: swearing, mentiones of sex and being a one night stand

wc: 1.5k

chapter 1

english is not my first language!

the sound of your alarm ripped you fom your sleep, wishig you could stay in bed for a little longer. it didn't take long for the excitement to take over your wish to continue your sleep though. today, you had a date. you'd met this guy named joe a few months ago at a party you went to with nick, matt and chris, getting along with him almost immediately. he was nice and good looking, he cracked a few lewd jokes and comments, but other than that, he seemed nice. he asked you out on a date a few nights ago, which is exactly what you were getting ready for right now. getting out of bed and throwing on an outfit you put more thought into than you usually would, (if that's even possible). unplugging your phone from the charger and grabbing it off of your nightstand, you took one last look in the mirror, fixing your hair before you texted the guy and made your way out of the apartment building.

you were excited, for sure, but you also didn't really know if you had the courage to actually go and meet him. dating was always something you kind of avoided. not like you didn't want to date, or give and recieve love from a partner, but you were always hesitant to open up to someone. meeting new people could be hard for you sometimes, especially if it took onto a romantic way. despite your ovethinking, you started your car, driving to the adress of the resturaunt he was supposed to meet you at.

you arrived at the place, getting out of your car and walking up the stairs, looking for your date. when you spotted him, you made your way over, his eyes landing on you as you gave him a warm smile.

"hey pretty." he smiled, pulling you into a friendly hug. you hugged him back, greeting him.

you guys chatted a little, about your interests, about your hobbies, just the typical small talk. the way he seemed not entirely interested in what you were telling about yourself stood out to you immediately, but you decided to just brush it off, assuming it was just the natural awkwardness of the moment. you ordered your food, and he ordered his. the waiter walked away to put in your order and joe turned his head to look at you with a smile. "so how'd you know about the party?" you straightened your back, starting the new conversation with him. "i'm friends with the host, sort of." you answered, taking a sip of your drink, clearing your throat before continuing, "you?"

"a friend of a friend invited me, he's friends with her too." his eyes looked you up and down, admiring the way your body looked in the outfit you wore, making you shift uncomfotably under his gaze. you didn't like where this was headed, the way he looked at you giving away just what exactly his intentions were. despite the feeling in your stomach telling you to make an excuse and leave, you shrugged it off, trying to convince yourself that you're putting too much thought into it. before joe could speak up again, the waiter came back with your food, placing it on the table infront of you.

the both of you ate your meal, making small conversation again, "you're really beautiful, y'know that?" he complimented, a faint smirk on his lips, watching your reaction. you put your drink down after taking a sip of it, smiling, "thanks."

his eyes glanced down at your body again, lingering on your cleavage for longer than they should have. you could feel the mood shift slighty, realizing his behavior wasn't just you overthinking. "we could go back to my place after if you'd like, watch a movie or something?" he leaned back, smirk growing, clearly implying how he had no interest in watching a movie with you. you shrugged, nodding. "yeah sure, i'll have to see though, was gonna help a friend with something later..." you spoke, getting up from your seat, "i'll be right back, gotta use the restroom" you excused yourself, walking away, his eyes roaming over your figure as he watched you dissapear into the restroom.

you pulled out your phone, texting matt. there was no way you were going back to this guys place tonight.

you didn't care abut the fact that you had to leave your car here, joe didn't know what it looked like anyway, you just wanted to get out of this place, not interested in being some one night stand. you walked out of the restroom, back towards your table where joe was waiting for your return. you pulled out your wallet, placing the money for the food and drink you ordered on the table. "i am so sorry. my friend just called me and she got into a car accident. i'll text you, yeah?" you didn't even care about the fact that what you had just told him was a complete lie, not even waiting for his response as you made your way out of the resturaunt, spotting matt's car already parked further away from the window that joe was sat by.

you sprinted towards it, getting into the passanger seat, waving your hands for him to drive off. when matt pulled out of the small parking lot, onto the road, a sigh you didn't even know you were holding escaped your lips, sinking back into the seat.

matt looked over at you, letting you catch your breath, "seatbelt." he reminded, nodding his head towards you. you looked down on yourself, "shit, sorry." you mumbled, grabbing the seatbelt and buckling it in. matt drove towards your place, stealing glances at you every now and then before he actually spoke up, "he didn't... try anything, did he?" matt asked, slight protectiveness laced in his voice. you shook your head quickly, "no, no. god no." you exhaled, "he was just obviously not interested in anything other than sex." you sighed, leaning your head back against the headrest. to be honest with yourself, you were quite disappointed. the guy seemed nice when you met him.

matt knew what was up. he sighed, reaching out to place a hand on your knee to offer you some sort of reasurrance. "m' sorry to hear, he clearly doesn't deserve to get to know you." you turned your head to look over at him, still leaning back against the headrest. you gave him an appreciative smile before turning your head back towars the road. the drive to your house was quiet, different from the usual music playing, chatting, and laughing between you and matt on your usual car rides.

matt pulled up to your place, parking the car on your usual parking spot. he looked over at you, thinking of what he could do to help you with your mood. "how about i come up with you and we watch a movie, doordash some food?" his voice was soft, slightly tiltingt his head to the side. you turned your head to look at him, smiling "yeah, that'd be nice." you nodded.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

despite your horrible date and the disappointment that came with it, your evening with matt really made your day. even though matt wasn't the biggest fan of horror movies, he let you pick one out since you loved them. you were sat on your couch next to matt, a blanket draped over your legs, your head on his shoulder. you reached for the chips on your lap, shoving a handful into your mouth with your eyes focused on the movie. a jumpscare scene played, making matt jump, you couldn't help the small chuckle escaping your lips. "jesus christ, they always gotta fuckin' do that when you're focused and not expecting it" matt breathed out, shaking his head.

you laid your head back down on his shoulder feeling how stiff his body was from the jumpscare earlier. you reached out, smacking him on the chest, "you're a pussy, loosen up a bit you're shoulder's uncomfortable" you groaned, leaning your head against him again.

the movie continued and your eyes grew heavier with every moment that passed, exhausted from the stress from today. matt didn't notice how you slowly drifted off to sleep, his eyes stayed on the TV. another scene made matt jump slightly as he watched the horror film you picked out, really just torturing matt at this point with the amount of annoyingly scary scenes causing his body to jolt everytime, his heartbeat picking up with every jumpscare. a noise of disapproval left your lips at his movement, making him take his eyes off of the screen to look down at you drifting off to sleep with your head on his shoulder.

he leaned forward, careful not to rip you out of your dosing state completely. he reached for the remote, turning the TV off. "come on, i'll get you to bed." he spoke softly, tapping your shoulder. you groaned, getting up from the couch with an annoyed expression on your face, missing the comfort of the soft couch cushions beneath you and matts shoulder as a pillow. matt helped you get in bed, making sure you were comfortable. "i'm gonna go get your phone real quick, yeah?" you hummed in response, watching him leave your room. he came back with your phone and a glas of water in his hands, placing both down on your nightstand. matt sat down at the end of your bed, placing his hand on your leg over the comforter. "you call me when you're up and ready and we'll go get your car, okay?" matt tilted his head, looking at your face, you nodded.

matt got up from your bed, but you stopped him, grabbing his hand. "you can just stay, save the drive back..." you mumbled into the pillow. matt looked down at your hand holding his, thinking for a moment. it's not like it'd be your guy's first sleepover, but something felt different, there was something matt couldn't explain to himself about the way you were leaning on him earlier, head resting on his shoulder for comfort like it did so many times before, the way you asked him to stay. shaking himself out of it, matt agreed, "yeah, yeah, of course."

you let go of his hand, moving over so there was room for him to lay down. he got in bed next to you, getting comfortable. you were facing away from him, matt was facing your back. you were dozing off to sleep again, matt shifted next to you a few times but you were too tired to be bothered. it didn't take you long to fall asleep, but matt? matt couldn't fall asleep. his mind was racing, mostly with questions as to why this felt so different from the countless of times he's laid next to you in bed, sleeping over at yours ever since you were in highschool. he tried to shrug it off, to stop overthinking it, he really did, but he just couldn't stop his mind from going ways they haven't before and it scared him more than he'd like to admit to himself. what if it were in a not so casual way? what if cuddling up to you right now wouldn't be seen as two friends being comfortable with eachother, thinking of it as nothing else than the simple bond of a strong friendship?

he shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. he shifted in bed again, scooting closer to you, cuddling up to you like he did many times before during a sleepover. your body reacted to his wamth, cuddling back into him. his arm landed on your waist, just laying over it. he held his breath without realizing, exhaling shakily when your body pressed against his. he tried to drown out the weird feeling in his stomach, closing his eyes and trying his best to fall asleep. luckily, he eventually did.

series link (everything you need to know)

taglist

authors note: yh icl this is lowk ass and cliche, forgive me. next chapter will be better... hopefully LMAO

@grace-sturnz @rcklessheavn @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @chrissturniolossidebitch @sl4ttformattsturniolo @priscillaog @oopsiedaisydeer @sturnzzlovee @dollyvuu @xbahaaha @h3arts4nat @sturniolosymphony @powpowjinxlife @idkwhatthisis2009 @surprisecurlyfriess

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