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v6quewrlds · 5 months ago

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LOVE ME NOT, JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀3.3k.

summary⠀⁎⠀justin isn't a jealous guy. at least that's what he thinks until his girlfriend catches everyone's attention.

author's note⠀⁎⠀pouty, moody pisces men >>> warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, smut, oral (m. receiving), 3rd person (she/her)

"Sweetheart, can you grab the ketchup from the fridge?" Justin's voice carried over the sizzle of the grill, where the aroma of barbecue ribs filled the air.

She looked up from her conversation with Quentin and nodded with a warm smile. She stepped away from the chattering group, the coolness of the kitchen a welcome reprieve from the heat outside. Her eyes scanned the crowded countertop, searching for the condiment. The fridge door swung open, revealing a wall of beer, White Claws, and a lonely gallon of almond milk. She grabbed the ketchup and a few beers before heading back out to the party.

The yard buzzed with laughter, the crackle of the firepit, and the occasional clink of bottles as the team's end-of-season celebrations filled the backyard with both sound and light. She, ever the diligent host, circulated among the guests, making sure everyone had a plate piled with food and a drink in hand. Her bright smile and gentle voice eased the tension that often accompanied the hyper-masculine atmosphere, to the relief of the handful of partners that dotted the concrete nearest to the pool.

Her eyes searched for Justin, finding him in a huddle with a few of his teammates, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter at something one of the guys had said. The sight of him, so at ease and so obviously enjoying himself, filled her heart with joy. During the season, relaxation was a luxury that came in fleeting moments, and she reveled in the rare occasion where she could see him truly unwind. She approached with the ketchup and beers, setting the ketchup down on the table next to him before handing a beer to Ladd who stood nearby.

Justin watched out of the corner of his eye as she was pulled away again by a guest, a hand on her lower back guiding her to refill their drink. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore, his jaw tightening as he returned his focus to the grill. The laughter around him seemed to fade into the background as he felt the warmth of his jealousy spread from his chest to his fingertips.

It was an odd, ugly feeling, one that didn't often rear its head in their relationship, but as she slipped away again, the pang of something unpleasant struck him. He knew he had no right to feel this way—she was being a fantastic host, after all—but he couldn't shake the feeling that he would much rather her be at his side. Between the way the others touched her arm, leaning in to hear her stories, and the way she lit up their faces with her welcoming aura, it was like a simmering burn in his chest. He knew it was irrational, but the more he saw her interact with his teammates, so far away from him, the more possessive he felt.

The party wound down as the night grew darker, and the guests started to trickle home. She moved around efficiently, her movements a little slower now as the exhaustion of the day began to show. Justin watched her, his mood growing heavier with each plate she cleared. It was only when they were almost alone, just the two of them and the last few stragglers, that he realized he hadn't had a real conversation with her in hours.

"Hey, let's grab the rest of the dishes," she suggested, her voice a little softer than it had been earlier. She looked over at him with a question in her eyes, noticing the tension he hadn't quite managed to hide.

Justin nodded, a forced smile plastered on his face as he turned off the grill and began to pack up the leftover food. Together, they brought the plates and cups into the kitchen, the clinking of silverware echoing through the room. She started to wash the dishes, and warm water and soap bubbles coated her hands. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes searching for any sign of what was really going on.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Justin's eyes met hers for a brief moment before he turned away to put the last of the clean plates into the cupboard with a little more force than necessary. "Yeah, just tired," he murmured, hoping she wouldn't see through the facade.

She frowned, her gaze lingering on his stiff posture. "You've been acting weird since everyone started leaving," she said, her voice low and concerned. "What's going on?"

Justin sighed, his hand pausing on the cupboard door. He turned to face her, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "It's nothing, babe. Don't worry about it," he said, his voice gruffer than he intended.

But she knew him better than that. She stepped closer, setting down the dish towel she had been holding. "Justin," she said gently, reaching out to touch his arm. "You're obviously upset about something. Is it something I did?"

He looked at her hand on his arm, the warmth of her touch penetrating the barrier he'd put up. "It's just..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "I don't know, I just... I saw how much attention you were giving everyone else tonight, and I guess I got a little possessive."

Her eyes widened, surprise and confusion flickering across her face. "Possessive?" she echoed. "Of what?"

Justin couldn't help the way his gaze roved over her, taking in her figure in the snug sundress she'd picked out for the occasion. "You looked amazing today," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Everyone couldn't take their eyes off of you. I just... I wanted you all to myself."

Her expression softened as she understood the root of his discomfort. She stepped closer, sliding her hand around his waist. "You know I only have eyes for you," she murmured, her head tilting back to study his tense expression. "You're the one I come home to, the one who makes me laugh until my stomach hurts."

Justin's gaze fell to her lips, his own mouth curving into a half-smile. "I know," he admitted, his arms wrapping around her in a loose embrace. "It's just... I don't know. It's dumb." Almost absentmindedly, he leaned down to kiss her, a soft brush of his lips against hers that spoke volumes.

She didn't miss the undercurrent of insecurity in his words. She knew that Justin's life was in the spotlight, where his every move was scrutinized and commented on. Maybe, in that moment, he felt like he was losing her, the only aspect of his life that was meant to be saved just for him, to the very people who had become his family. She reached up, placing her free hand on his cheek. "You're not being dumb," she whispered, her eyes searching his. "I'm yours, and I always will be."

"I know," Justin murmured, his eyes darkening with something more than just insecurity. He kissed her again, this time with more urgency, his hands gripping her hips firmly. She felt the kitchen counter dig into her thighs as he lifted her onto it, his body pressing against hers. Suddenly, all that mattered was the feel of him, his mouth on hers, his hands roaming over her body like he hadn't felt her in weeks instead of hours.

The kitchen around them grew hazy, the sounds of the night outside fading away as they lost themselves in the moment. Justin's kisses grew more demanding, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped, her own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"Justin," she breathed out his name as his hands roamed, her body responding to his touch like a wildfire to dry grass. The dishes and the cleanup were forgotten as their kisses grew more intense, their need for each other burning away any shred of self-control they had left. "Let's go to the bedroom," she suggested, her voice low and urgent.

But Justin didn't move, his gaze dark and possessive. "I want you here," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, making her shiver. His hand slid up her thigh, the fabric of her dress riding up with it, revealing the soft edge of her underwear.

"Here?" she questioned, her voice breathy as his hand inched closer to the apex of her thighs. His warm hands yanked at the waistband of her panties, pulling them down just enough to expose her to the cool kitchen air.

"Here," he confirmed, his voice gruff with want. His hand found its way between her legs, his fingers stroking her in slow, deliberate circles that made her eyes roll back in her head. "I need to know that you're mine," he whispered against her skin, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. "That no one else gets to make you feel like this."

Her breath hitched as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. She couldn't suppress the moan that escaped her lips as he began to move more insistently, his thumb rubbing her clit in a steady rhythm that had her hips rocking against his hand.

"Oh," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with desire for him. She could feel the tension in his muscles as he held her against the counter, his own need palpable. His kisses grew more fervent, his tongue sliding into her mouth to tangle with hers as his other hand slipped under her dress to squeeze her plush thighs.

The kitchen lights cast a warm glow over them, their shadows dancing on the floor. Her legs parted wider, inviting him closer, her breaths coming in pants that matched the rhythm of his touch. She could feel the heat of him against her, his arousal pressing into her through his shorts. It was intoxicating, the way he claimed her so blatantly, so desperately.

"That's it," Justin groaned, his eyes dark with need as he watched her body respond to his touch. He stepped closer, the heat of his body searing hers as he slipped his fingers into her wetness. Her eyes closed, her head falling back as she let out a soft moan that seemed to echo in the quiet kitchen. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with appreciation.

He slid his fingers in and out of her, the tension in his body grew, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. He knew he should take this to the bedroom, where they could fully let go, but the thrill of claiming her here—where everyone had seen her be the perfect host—was too tempting to resist.

With a growl, Justin lifted her off the counter, onto her feet, and spun her around, her chest now pressing against the cold, hard surface. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as his hands slid down to her hips, pulling her back against him. Ruby could feel his hard length pushing into her, the friction sending shivers down her spine. She reached back, her hands fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him inside her.

He stepped away just enough to allow her to drop to her knees, her dress pooling around her like a puddle of ink. The sound of his zipper echoed in the kitchen, and she took a deep breath before looking up at him with hooded eyes. His cock sprang free, thick and pulsing with desire. "Take it," he murmured, his hand guiding her head closer.

She parted her lips, her tongue flicking out to taste him. The salt of his skin mixed with the sweetness of his precum, and she couldn't help but moan. She took him into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. The way he watched her, the way his chest rose and fell with every shallow breath, it was like he was memorizing every moment of this.

Justin's hand threaded through her hair, guiding her as he groaned out in pleasure. The kitchen floor was hard and cold beneath her knees, but she didn't care. All she could focus on was the feel of him, the taste of him, the way he was watching her with such desire. She took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with each suck. His grip tightened, his breathing growing ragged.

Her eyes watered, Justin's grip on her hair tightening as his thrusts grew more urgent. She could feel the head of his cock hit the back of her throat with each stroke. His sweat-slicked skin smelled faintly of smoke and his cologne, a new scent she had gifted him for Christmas. It was fitting, she decided, that she'd be kneeling before him like this, when he smelled so heavenly, her choice of scent on him.

Justin's hand slid from her hair to her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he whispered, "You're doing so good for me, baby," his voice was a mix of love and lust. She moaned around him at the sound of his praise, feeling her own arousal build as she watched his face contort in pleasure.

With a final, deep thrust, Justin pulled out of her mouth. He hoisted her back onto the kitchen island, her legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. Her fingers dug into his back, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as he pressed into her, all passion and urgency. The kitchen light glinted off the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, the muscles in his neck and shoulders standing out as he drove into her.

Her dress was hiked up around her waist, the fabric clinging to her damp skin. His hands found purchase on her thighs, his grip firm as he pushed deeper, his movements unyielding and possessive. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with their ragged breaths and the occasional clink of a forgotten dish. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back as she gave herself over to the sensation.

"All fuckin' mine, baby," Justin grunted, his eyes never leaving hers as he claimed her in the most primal way possible. The countertop was cold against her back, but she barely noticed, lost in the heat of their passion. Her thighs spread for him, the smack of his skin against hers punctuating each thrust. Her hands strained for something to hold onto, finally whimpering softly to catch his attention.

He cursed under his breath, roughly biting his bottom lip before bringing his hips to an agonizing still. Justin shifted her position, bringing her ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new angle sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through her, making her cry out. He leaned over to hold her hands, bending slightly at the waist, his pecs flexing with the effort.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice thick with desire. Her eyes locked on his obediently. Green, blue, and hazel was brimmed with a hunger that was both thrilling and terrifying, a raw, animalistic need that seemed to consume him. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in him before, and it sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold countertop.

Justin's eyes never left hers as he began to move again, his strokes long and deep. Her eyes grew wide with each thrust, her breaths coming in short gasps. The sensation was almost too much, the stretch and the burn and the feeling of being filled so completely by him. But she never looked away, not even when the pleasure grew so intense she thought she might shatter.

"Nobody gets to make you feel like this," Justin reiterated, his voice strained as he pushed into her with a fierce determination. His eyes searched hers, as if seeking confirmation of his claim.

Her chest heaved with each thrust. She felt the muscles in her core tighten, the beginnings of an orgasm building like a storm at sea. "I'm yours," she whispered, her voice barely a murmur. "All yours."

He watched her pupils dilate, her mouth part in silent cries of ecstasy. It was intoxicating, the power he had over her in this moment, the way she surrendered to him completely. His hips slammed into hers, the kitchen light making her skin glisten against his. He blew out a puff of hair, mildly annoyed at a strand that had fallen into his face.

The tension grew, tightening in the air around them. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Justin took the opportunity to lean down, his mouth capturing hers in a rough, possessive kiss. She could feel herself almost fold in half, his length sliding into her so deep she thought she might split apart.

"Don't stop," she panted into his mouth, her nails raking down his back. The words were barely a whisper, but they were all the encouragement he needed. Justin's hips picked up speed, the slapping of skin on skin growing louder in the quiet kitchen.

Her walls clamped down on him, and he knew she was close. He reached down, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing in firm, steady circles. "Come for me," he murmured against her ear, the words a command and a plea all rolled into one.

Her body tensed, a soft keening sound escaping her throat. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she bit down on her lower lip to muffle her cries as the orgasm crashed over her, wave after wave of pure bliss. Her nails scored down his back, her hips bucking against him as she rode the crest of pleasure. Justin's eyes never left hers, his own climax spilling over the edge as he watched her shatter underneath him.

They remained like that for a moment, panting and trembling, their hearts hammering in sync with one another. Sweat beaded on their skin, the kitchen lights glinting off the droplets that had formed on Justin's chest and neck. Her dress was a wrinkled mess around her waist, and her makeup—or what was left of it after a long day outside—was smudged from their kisses. But in that moment, she felt more beautiful than she ever had in her life.

Justin hissed lightly, holding her in place as his cock throbbed deep inside her. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her collarbone, his lips a trail of fire that left her skin feeling branded. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I think I got a little carried away."

Her eyes remained closed, her breaths still coming in gasps. She could feel the tremor in his body, the aftershocks of his release. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with a tired contentment. "It was hot."

Justin chuckled, his body still tense with the remnants of his orgasm. He kissed her forehead, his hands sliding down to rest on the countertop on either side of her hips. "I guess it's a good thing we don't throw parties often," he said, his voice lighter now.

She couldn't help but laugh, the sound a little shaky. "If this is what you're gonna do when we throw a party, we should start having them every weekend," she teased, wincing as he pulled hesitantly, his release slowly leaking out of her.

An embarrassed shade of pink dusted over the bridge of Justin's nose and spilled over onto his cheeks. "I don't know if our kitchen could handle that," he quipped, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. He kissed her nose, setting her back down on her shaky legs. She stepped closer to him, hands sliding over his shoulders. She kissed him slowly, giggling softly when his hands moved from her hips to straighten out her dress in an effort to make up for his behavior.

"Let's go clean up," she said, her voice still a little breathless. Justin nodded, his eyes dropping to her lips briefly before scooping her into a bridal carry, making her squeal with surprise and delight.

#&. cassie writes.#justin herbert #justin herbert fluff #justin herbert smut #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x black!reader #justin herbert x reader #x black reader #black!reader #black reader

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joeyfranchise · 6 months ago

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got me thinkin’ nonsense

justin herbert x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content. 18+ only. oral (f. receiving), dumbification ;)

word count: 2.3k.

note: hello i am once again having brainrot about justin 😋 and so is maja because this is another idea we’ve talked about extensively. love youuuu @joeyburrrow 😮‍💨

to put it plainly - you were having a horrible day.

it started unexpectedly after you’d taken nearly an hour in the morning to curl your hair perfectly, only to be met with a downpour of rain outside that left it limp and wet.

when you got to the office the strap of your bag broke and it dropped off your arm, leaving the contents to skitter across the floor of the lobby. your coworker— and quite possibly the bane of your existence— katherine helped you pick up your things before scurrying off to her desk a little too cheerily.

you sat through meeting after boring meeting, listening to your bosses babble on and to katherine’s incessant interruptions, adding her two cents to everything they said.

as you left your last meeting your foot caught the door frame on the way out and you toppled over into the hall, falling right into your bosses back. your weight crashing into him sent him straight into the wall on the other side of the hallway and you began to apologize profusely.

you stood and extended your hand to help him, sheepishly gazing down at him. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he declined your hand, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants.

“be more careful,” he sneered, before walking briskly down the hall.

you headed back to your desk and gathered your things, beyond ready to get home and spend the evening underneath your duvet without any other care in the world, just waiting for justin to get home.

you grabbed your things and headed to the parking lot, and since your bag was broken you ended up just throwing all your belongings in the passenger seat before driving home, eager to strip your clothes and lie in bed.

unfortunately, your bad luck didn’t end when you left the office. you hit every red light on the way home and only narrowly avoided being rear-ended by some teenager who was too focused on texting, which left you feeling like you could rip your hair out.

finally though, you made it home. you didn’t bother to grab anything from your car to bring inside other than your keys and phone. you trudged up the steps as the weight of the day continued bearing down on you, but you were shocked when the door swung open before you could get your key anywhere near the lock.

you weren’t expecting justin to be home so soon.

he stood there with open arms, inviting you into his much larger frame for a much needed hug. you stepped forward and let him wrap you in his embrace, inhaling his scent as he squeezed you.

“welcome home!” he cheerfully greeted, and you looked up at him with a half-smile. justin immediately sensed your unease and ushered you into the house, leading you to the couch before helping you to sit back. he placed your phone and keys on the coffee table as you settled into the pillows and propped your head up. justin knelt on the floor to take off your shoes for you.

you weren’t sure why he always did that as soon as he knew you had a bad day, because you both hated feet and the idea of touching them or anything of that sort, but it was most likely just his way of trying to comfort you. he wanted you to see he was there for anything and everything you needed.

“tough day?” he questioned, sliding himself a bit closer to your frame. he sat on the floor and leaned over so his elbows rested on your thighs as he propped his head in his hands. “mhm,” you answered, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. you hadn’t noticed until now that he still had his hair pushed back with the thin headband he often wore at practice. you found it slightly suspicious… but you were unsure why.

“want me to help you feel better?” he asked softly, his big hands now smoothing over your legs. you opened your eyes and looked down at him, a mischievous glint twinkled in his eye.

“what idea do you have cooking up?” you ask him, curious to hear what he has to say.

“well,” he starts, sitting up straighter so he can lean over you properly, “practice was long and boring today, but i was thinking about you the whole time. i missed you a lot… and knowing you had a bad day, i think i know what might help…” he teases, and then presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

your lips follow his as he deepens the kiss, and you shudder as his hands slide underneath your shirt, his warm touch leaving goosebumps behind. he breaks away from the kiss to speak to you, but not before peppering gentle kisses to the corners of your mouth and your cheeks.

“here’s the plan,” he says, as his fingers begin working the button of your jeans, “you’re gonna tell me all about your bad day, and while you talk i’m gonna eat you out, sound good?”

your eyes widen at his forwardness. justin usually isn’t one to lay it out so plainly and you’re a bit taken aback by his suddenness. “….okay,” you agree, and justin laughs at your reluctance. “i told you i missed you today,” he smirks. you let him undo your pants and pull them down your legs along with your panties, tossing both to the side.

you stifle back a giggle as they wrap around a lamp you have standing in the corner, the force of justin’s throw leaving it wobbling.

you look down at him in amusement and he laughs too before quickly switching his mood, suddenly turning serious. “okay, start talking. and if you stop, i stop.”

his arms hook around your thighs and he pulls you down the couch a little farther so that you’ll both be in a comfortable position as he moves back to his knees on the floor.

he leans into you and holds your legs open before blowing a cool stream of air onto your already wet core. his nose rubs against your clit softly before he licks a long, languid stripe up your center. when he makes no further move you remember you’re supposed to be talking, but you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to even form words… you still try anyway.

“i… i woke up super early to c-curl my hair, and… the rain made it fall immediately,” you whine, arching forward as he rolls his tongue lazily over your clit. he makes a sound against your core that you can only assume is sympathetic, and the vibration sends shockwaves through you. your fingers tangle through his hair as you hold him close to you, afraid to let this moment end so soon.

“and then… when i got to work my bag broke and… all m-my shit fell all over the - fuck - all over the lobby,” you manage to squeak out. he shakes his head from side to side as you talk before slowly pressing two fingers into your dripping center and curling them upward. a drawn out moan falls from your lips as he uses his hand and his mouth in tandem, pulling you close to the edge in such a short time.

his other hand smooths over the flesh of your leg before he draws it back and places a sharp smack against the meat of your thigh. you barely notice the stinging pain as your body lurches forward, your back arches, and you continue pressing your core to his eager tongue and lips.

he lifts his head to look at you and the sight of him almost has your eyes rolling back. his hair is messy from the grip you’ve had on it but the thin white headband stays in place, holding his hair away from his eyes. the bottom half of his face is coated with spit and your slick, his mischievous eyes find yours and he winks at you. “i didn’t tell you to stop talking, baby. keep telling me about your day, or i’ll stop, too.”

“fuck, okay… katherine was annoying me all day, she wouldn’t shut the fuck up in any of the meetings,” you tell him, and he looks up at you again to mutter a soft “fuck katherine,” before he’s diving into your folds again. you giggle at his words, he’s being unusually crude today.

his fingers are pumping in and out of you twice as fast now and you’re scrambling to gather your thoughts, but god you didn’t want him to stop. he hooks his fingers and presses them upward, hitting you in just the right spot as he continues sucking on your clit, bobbing his head back and forth.

it’s getting harder and harder to formulate your thoughts, you still have to tell him about running into your boss, but you can’t make the words come out. instead, all you manage to squeak out is a weak moan of his name as you tug at his hair again.

“justinnnnnn,” you whine, the pleasure now seeping through your body, you can feel it in your thighs, calves and toes. he laughs against you, and all you can think is what a cheeky fucker.

he looks up again at you, hair and eyes wild. “that can’t be all, baby,” he teases. his pupils are blown wide and you know he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. you shake your head in response and place your palms flat on the couch so you can use them to push your body forward, fucking yourself on his now still fingers.

“was that it? or am i just fucking you stupid?”

and there it was.

his admission that he missed you may have been true, but something happened on that field today that triggered this side of justin, one you rarely got to see. he was always ready and willing to take care of you, and he wasn’t being malicious at the moment, but something had to have happened today to make him talk to you with a bit of bite - not that you were complaining.

“keep talking,” he commanded, and although it wasn’t the angriest you’ve ever heard him, it was enough to make you listen. “i- i tripped on the - fuck - the fucking door frame and fell straight into my boss. and he wouldn’t even let m-me…” you hiccup, another whine falling from your lips as he curls his digits into your g-spot again.

“justin, please,” you beg, continuing to grind on his face and fingers. you lift your head to look down and him and you find him focused, eyes closed as he works on bringing you pleasure. for a moment you think you’re in the clear until his big hand brings down another harsh smack on your thigh. it takes everything in you to start talking again.

“he wouldn’t even let me help him up. and th-then all the lights on the way home were red and - jesus christ - some teenager almost rear-ended me. and that’s all justin, please,” you finally manage, the rasp of your voice even shocks you. you sound completely fucked out yet full of lust, and for some reason you like it. justin does too.

he continues working you closer and closer to the edge as your repeat his name like a mantra, followed by moans and curses and any other sound that claws its way from your throat. justin can feel you tightening around his fingers and he loves it, he loves knowing he can bring you to your peak so quickly like this.

he pulls away from your core one final time, looking you in the eyes as he speaks. “don’t you love it when you’re getting fucked so good you can only remember my name? you sound a little dumb, baby.”

his tongue is on you again in an instant and your brain feels like it’s being scrambled in your head. you’d admitted to justin one night during a drunken romp that you wanted him to be rougher with you, to sling you around sometimes, to call you names.

usually he was a gentle giant, and god, he always got you there. the sex was never boring, but this really took the cake. before you knew it you were cumming all over his fingers unabashedly, not caring whether the couch would be stained from your remnants or not. all that mattered in this moment was justin, which you knew was exactly what he wanted.

he helped you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of you, and without thinking, he wiped them off on the leg of his pants. his eyes met yours again and you could tell he was feeling nervous, he wanted to know how he did.

“you’ll have to give me three to five business days to recover from that one,” you giggle, your chest heaving as you catch your breath.

“i hoped that helped you some,” he said, leaning across your body and wrapping his arms around your torso. “it did, but what got into you?” you questioned, his boldness something you weren’t so used to seeing.

“got pissed off at practice, it was stupid. we can talk about it later,” he sighs, leaning his head against your neck. “i think i know a way i can get you to talk,” you tease, and both of you laugh. justin squeezes you into a hug before pulling off you and standing up, extending an arm to gesture toward the hall.

“sounds like a fine treat, m’lady,” he jokes, pretending to tip a hat to you. “but first, hit the showers!”

you giggle as you stand on gelatin legs and try to walk past him, only to be met with weak knees as he smacks your ass harshly. he scoops you up bridal style and rushes down the hall, both of you eager to get to the story of justin’s bad day.

photos and dividers are not mine, cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @slimshiesty @fourburrow @wheresdylansoscar @heartforherbert @joe9cool @itsjustjackie55 @emsdev @a-whiterose @aliyamustafeena @joemamabob0

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thoughtfulfiction · 6 months ago

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Scooters Suck!

Author’s Note: Another dad!Justin rewrite. I have a new request planned to write next and then I’ll go through my inbox on my main and get those written and posted but as always if you want to see an old fic rewritten let me know!

You weren't scared of your toddler. Really, you weren't. She just wasn't the nicest person in the world before 9am.

Her ability to sleep in was probably unheard of and uncommon when it came to kids, which is probably why she barely took naps anymore. But in the morning? Remi was practically a zombie. Think, a tiny version of the Incredible Hulk. Don't wake her up. It’s borderline dangerous when she's woken up too early.

With all that being said…you had to navigate this situation very delicately.

"Remi?" you whisper. "It's time to wake up sweets."

From her spot in the middle of her new toddler bed you hear her sigh, her little body moving up and down like asking her to get up is going to be the end of the world. Her sleepy groan sounded like an old man after a 50-hour workweek. "Shh mama, I'm still sleeping."

Justin had a habit of mumbling incoherent, gruff sounds instead of words when he felt it was too early, and it seemed Remi had inherited his dislike for mornings, complete with her own dramatic flair. He usually didn't even speak to you in the morning if he felt like it was too early to be awake.

You walked over to her half asleep form, running your fingers along her cheek and kissing her head.

"I guess daddy is going to leave for his game today without his special basket..." you trail off and she sits up abruptly in bed, her hair and eyes wild.

"Oh no! I forgot to finish his basket!" She was now miraculously fully alert, already using you to scoot herself out of bed to head out of the room.

"Remington, please go brush your teeth and get dressed before you go into the playroom. I'll help you grab your stuff and we can finish it together. But you have to go to the bathroom first, got it?"

She nods excitedly, tossing her blanket to the side and heading to the drawers to pick out some clothes. "Got it mama!"

You shook your head at the complete 180 in your daughter's aura as you stepped into the playroom to grab the basket she'd been working on. The Chargers were headed to Carolina this afternoon to play the Panthers and Remi took her pre-travel activities very seriously. She liked to call it her version of gameday preparations. Her job was to make sure her daddy had everything he needs to secure the win and more importantly…come home as soon as possible. The gifts would oftentimes be prepared ahead of time but for whatever reason Remi ran out of time yesterday and with Justin coming home in an hour, the two of you were on a time crunch.

This “special basket” started when Remi was two, as a way to distract her from the fact that Justin wouldn’t be home. The idea began with simple comforts like a favorite snack or a small toy, but her growing creativity and determination turned the baskets into heartfelt packages that meant as much to Justin as they did to her. Even if it was just for two days, that one night without him was hard on her. So you came up with an idea to have this “basket” ready for road games to keep everyone happy. You knew that leaving Remi was hard on Justin too. You could’ve sworn he cried a little the first time he had to leave for an away game when she was born, even if he denies it to this day.

Remi was running around the room, putting her finishing touches on the main items, then headed over to the kitchen, grabbing her step stool to look in the fridge for a couple Gatorades.

"Lellow? Or blue?" She said aloud to herself, holding both bottles up. She shrugged and closed the door, grabbing both of them and walking back to the playroom to carefully put them into the basket. You watched as she meticulously made sure everything was up to her toddler standards, stifling a laugh when she stepped back to examine her work, an adorably intense look on her face that seemed eerily familiar. She then asked you if she had any room to add one more gift.

Before you could answer, a voice sounded in the hallway.

“I thought I heard my two favorite girls in here.” Justin pokes his head in, kneeling down and opening his arms. Remi didn’t hesitate—she took off and jumped right into them. She kissed his cheek and clung to his neck as he stood, holding her securely in his arms.

“Hi daddy.”

“Hi mini. What are you up to?”

“Me and mama made you some stuff. Wanna see?”

He walks her over the table, gently setting her down so she can begin her presentation. She started with the Gatorades, pointing and naming each color. Showed him a “note” that she had finished and had you sign approximately three seconds before he came home, and a new Nike beanie because she claimed that the one he had been wearing was “yucky.” She had pointed it out a week ago, wrinkling her nose and saying, “daddy, it’s all fuzzy and gross!” before insisting that he needed a new one.

"Yucky" was one of her favorite words to get her point across.

Justin chuckled as he examined the basket. "This might be one of your best ones. I love it. Thank you both."

“I have one more suprise, wait right here daddy. Don’t leave.” Before he can give her a response she runs out of the room. She returns with her hands tucked behind her back, a mischievous grin on her face. “Ta-da!” She reveals her tiny stuffed panda. “You can take Baby Po with you. He’s my strongest stuffy, I promise. He can take care of you, like the o-line does, right?”

“You’re exactly right bub. Looks like watching film with dad has been paying off.” You hold out a hand, and Remi slaps it enthusiastically for a high five.

Justin grabs the basket and the panda and follows the two of you back into the living room to say goodbye. He gives Remi a long hug, spinning her around just to hear her laugh. “Good luck daddy, try your best okay?”

“I will try my very best. You’ll be good and listen to mama?” She giggles a little but says yes. “Pinky promise?” Justin asks and Remi nods solemnly.

“Pinky promise,” she repeats, holding out her tiny finger. Justin hooks his much larger pinky around hers, and they both kiss their joined hands to seal the promise.

“I love you, Mini. I’ll see you in two days.”

“Love you too. I’ll set a timer.” Remi responds, walking to her room and you can’t help but laugh a little listening to her humming a made up tune.

You can’t help but laugh. “She’s too much sometimes.”

Justin grins, watching her disappear. “She’s so smart, it’s honestly a little scary.”

“Tell me about it. Sometimes I forget she’s not even four yet. Never a dull moment with that one, that’s for sure. Anyway…” You gesture toward the counter. “You have everything?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” He exhales softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Guess this is it. I love you. I’ll call when I get to the hotel tonight.”

You hand him the basket and lean in for a quick kiss, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I love you more. Go kick some ass.”

Before Justin can respond, Remi comes running back into the room. “Wait! One more hug and kissy!”

He crouches down again, letting her wrap her tiny arms around him. She plants a big kiss on his forehead like he’s done to her a thousand, then pulls back with a giggle. “Okay, now you can go.”

Justin stands, shaking his head with a grin as he grabs his bag. “That kid, I swear…”

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger.” You smirk, giving him one last wave as he heads out the door.

After lunch and half of a movie, the two of you needed something new to do. “It’s such a nice day out. Do you wanna go to the park bub?”

“Yeah! I can bring my scooter!” Remi’s eyes lit up with excitement. This scooter had been the latest thing she loved. Every single day she wanted to take her scooter and go somewhere with it. Last week, she even asked if she could bring it to preschool.

“You can ride your scooter but you have to wear your helmet and wait for me to walk with you.”

"Okay mama!" She nods excitedly, already heading off to the mud room. “I need my shoes!”

A park outing usually consisted of Remi needing a snack, a bottle of water and potentially the stroller in case she was too tired to walk back home. You gathered all of your things while Remi waited for you. In the midst of gathering everything, a sudden crash that echoed from the garage, followed by a high-pitched scream has you frozen you in place. For a split second, your mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Then, instinct took over, and you bolted toward the door.

“Remi!” you called, your voice shaky as you threw the door open. The sight in front of you sent a jolt of panic through your chest.

She was crumpled on the floor, her scooter tipped awkwardly to the side. Her small body shook with sobs as she clutched her arm to her chest, her tear-streaked face looking up at you with pure fear.

“Oh, baby…what happened?” you asked, rushing to her side. Dropping to your knees, you carefully lifted the scooter off her and set it aside. “Did you fall off your scooter?”

She nodded wordlessly, her lip trembling, and reached out with her good arm. “Mama…” she whimpered, her voice breaking your heart in two.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m here.” Gently, you scooped her up, cradling her against you as her little fingers clung desperately to your shirt. Her sobs shook her tiny frame, each one twisting the knot of worry in your chest a little tighter.

As you carried her back inside, a thousand thoughts raced through your mind. Was it just a bad bruise, or something worse? Was she in unbearable pain? How could you have let this happen? You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm for her sake.

On the couch, you rocked her gently, whispering soothing words and brushing her hair out of her face. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Mama’s got you. You’re so brave.”

It took a few minutes, but her cries eventually softened into sniffles. Her tear-drenched face pressed into your shoulder as you kissed the top of her head. “Let me see your arm, bub. I promise I’ll be really gentle.”

When she hesitated, you gave her an encouraging smile. “We’re just gonna look, okay? No touching.”

She nodded reluctantly, and you peeled back her sleeve. Your stomach sank at the sight of the angry bruise already spreading across her tiny arm. You bit back a gasp, keeping your expression neutral. “You’re so tough, sweetheart. I think we need an ice pack to help make this feel better.”

Although you probably shouldn’t have, you got on Google to check for signs of a broken arm on your phone while Remi distracted herself with a show. You’d noticed some discoloration already which wasn’t good and she wasn’t really moving it away from her body and after 15 minutes, you took off the ice pack and handed her the remote. “Rem, can you hold this with your other hand?”

She tried but quickly dropped it, her face scrunching in frustration. “It hurts, Mama.”

You put your phone down and paused the tv, making your daughter stop and stare at you like she was offended. “Sweetie, I think we should take you to the doctor for your arm. So we’re gonna go on an adventure in the car and the doctors are going to look at your arm and make it feel soooo much better. And then we can come back home and finish the movie.”

“I have to see the doctor like uncle Mitch for my ouchie? Why?”

“Yes! Exactly like uncle Mitch. But we’re not going to see him, we’re gonna see someone else because they have special tools and everything that kids need. Some things that I don’t have for you here. So we have to go see them and they’ll make the ouchie feel a little better. Is that okay with you?”

She gave you a small nod, holding her good arm out. “Can I hold you?” Which was her version of asking to be carried. You picked her up again, mindful of her injured arm and she nestled against you, her small fingers gripping your shirt as you buckled her into the car seat.

The drive to the hospital felt endless. You kept glancing in the rearview mirror, watching her doze off in between small whimpers. Once you arrived, you texted Justin: Call me as soon as you can. It’s important.

Remi clung to you through it all until the nurse offered her some children’s ibuprofen and asked if she’d like to watch a movie while waiting for her cast. The distraction worked wonders—she was now enthralled by the screen, giggling quietly at the animated characters despite the disaster that was the last couple hours.

You stepped to the other side of the room when Justin's name flashed on the screen and you answered the call. “Hey," he started slowly, his voice already sounding tense. "What’s going on? Your text sounded like it was an emergency. Are you two alright?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh, “but Remi fell off her scooter and her arm was really swollen so I took her to the emergency room. It’s broken.”

“Oh my god.” His voice cracked slightly, the weight of those words hitting him hard. “Okay, um…What did the doctor say? Is she in pain? Did they—do they have to do surgery? What happens now? How—how did this even happen?” The questions came rapid-fire, his tone a mix of panic and guilt. You could almost hear him pacing on the other end of the line.

“Justin, slow down,” you said gently, though you couldn’t help but smile a little at how frantic he sounded. Usually he was the chill parent. “She’s okay. She’s a little trooper, honestly. She’s been so brave. They gave her pain meds, and we’re just waiting for her cast to be molded. No surgery needed, thank goodness. They even gave us a little cast cover for when she showers. She’s very excited about that.”

He exhaled, the sound heavy and strained. “I can’t believe I’m not there. I should be there.”

“Hey,” you said firmly, keeping your voice low but reassuring. “She’s fine, and you’re not a bad dad for being at work. You know that, right?”

“But I should be there,” he said again, more to himself than to you. “She probably cried, didn’t she? I hate that I wasn’t there to hold her.”

“She did, but only for a little while. She was scared, but we got through it. And now she’s sitting here laughing at a cartoon. Babe, she’s okay. She knows you love her.”

There was a long pause, and you could hear him taking a shaky breath. “Does she? Because I feel like I’ve been gone so much lately. What if she thinks I don’t care?”

You softened, your heart breaking a little for him. “Justin, stop. She knows. She’s been asking about you nonstop since we got here. In fact, she’s probably going to demand to talk to you as soon as I hang up.”

“She’s really okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“She’s better than okay. She’s handling this like a champ. Honestly, you should be proud of her—and yourself. She’s got that strength, and pain tolerance, from you, you know.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, and you could hear the faintest smile in his voice. “Can I talk to her?”

“Of course. Let me grab her.” You turned back toward the bed, where Remi was still glued to the movie, her uninjured hand clutching a Baby Po replacement. “Bub, guess who's on the phone? Do you wanna say hi?”

Her face lit up instantly, knowing exactly who it was before she reached for the phone. “Hi, Daddy! Guess what? I’m getting a blue cast, and the doctor gave me a sticker! But they didn’t have Paw Patrol stickers, so I picked a fishy one. It’s funny, right?”

You can hear him laugh on the other end, sounding much more relaxed after hearing her voice. “Very funny. I bet that fishy sticker is the coolest one they had. Can't wait to see it when I get home. And Remi? Thank you for being so strong today. I love you more than anything.”

“More than cookies?” Remi asked, her voice filled with wonder.

“Way more than cookies,” Justin replied with a chuckle. “Even the chocolate chip ones.”

Remi gasped dramatically, her eyes wide as she looked at you for confirmation. “Wow! That’s a super lot, Daddy. I love you more than my pink sparkly shoes!”

Justin laughed, his voice warm and steady over the phone. “That’s the super-est love there is, mini,” he said softly, the pride and love in his tone unmistakable.

He hadn't let her out of his sight since he came home Sunday night. After the win, they had an off day, which he gladly spent catering to her every need.

“You hungry mini?” Justin asks, feeling like he could use a snack himself.

“Yeah! Can we get ice cream? Pleeeease?” she sang, fluttering her lashes in a way that seemed suspiciously calculated.

Justin froze, then cleared his throat dramatically, turning his attention to you with exaggerated disbelief. “Do you see this? Look at her!”

“What? Why are you looking at me?” you asked, holding back a laugh.

“This is your fault,” he said, gesturing at Remi as if she’d just pulled off a master plan.

“My fault? What did I do?”

“She got that from you! Batting those eyelashes and giving me that little face—it's the same move you use when you want something. You both know I’m powerless against it.”

“My baby broke her arm okay? If she says she needs ice cream then we should get her some.” You try to reason with him.

Justin shook his head, though a grin tugged at his lips. “Her wrist is broken, Y/N. Ice cream isn’t exactly a medical treatment.”

From the couch, Remi giggled, her little voice ringing out as she piped up, “I need ice cream medicine, please!”

“Oh, really?” Justin raised an eyebrow, glancing back at her. Remi nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with innocent pleading.

You give him a pointed look. “And where did she get this ice cream obsession from?”

Justin sighed dramatically, giving in with a smile. “Fair point.” He stood up and headed toward the cabinet in search of a bowl, the pink one has been a crowd favorite this week.. “Remi... chocolate or vanilla?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, casting a glance at her injured arm resting on a pillow. You caught her gaze and gave her a small nod, as if to say “go ahead.”

“Both, please!” she said, her voice sweet and determined.

“Smart choice, kid,” You said, grinning. “Put daddy to work.”

Before you can hear Justin's response to your teasing, the doorbell rings and you get up to go answer it. On the other side of the door is three large men holding sparkly balloons, a giant teddy bear, a couple bags of candy and a huge bottle of bubbles.

"You guys, what is all this?" You step aside to let Simi, Cameron and Foster in. Remi is already in Cam's arms, showing off her cast by the time you get back to the living room.

“Tell me everything. How did it happen?” Cameron asked, looking at Remi with such tenderness that it made her giggle. He was her second favorite player, right after her dad, and he always made her feel like the most important person in the room.

The little girl sighed dramatically, resting her head on his shoulder, and began telling her version of the story from the beginning. She didn’t stop talking until she’d relayed every detail to Cameron, then she shifted her focus to Foster and Simi.

As Justin came back into the room from the kitchen, he stopped, taking in the scene with a shake of his head. He could hardly believe how spoiled Remi was—though he secretly loved every second of it.

The moment Remi saw him, she hopped off the couch, toddling over to him with a huge grin. “Thanks for the ice cream, daddy!” she said, her face lighting up.

Justin smiled, lifting her into his lap. “Anything for you, mini.”

Simi, Foster, and Cameron all took turns showing off the gifts they’d brought her. As each one came out, Remi’s eyes grew wider, and Justin’s heart swelled as he watched her in awe. The best part, though, was when they all gathered around to sign her cast.

When it was Justin’s turn, Remi asked him sweetly, “Can you sign my cast, but no ugly footballs, okay?”

He chuckled softly, his heart skipping a beat. “No ugly footballs, promise.” He focused, carefully drawing the best heart he could manage.

You caught Justin’s eye for a brief moment, and in that look, you both shared an unspoken feeling. There, on the couch, in the middle of all the laughter and excitement, was the perfect little girl that you two had created—a living, breathing testament to your love. A sassy three-year-old, full of life and energy, who couldn’t be tamed, but would always be adored beyond measure.

Justin wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. As he held her close, he felt like he wanted to bottle up these moments, to keep them frozen in time forever.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #Justin Herbert x reader #justin herbert fic

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taevincii · 2 days ago

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THE DIMPLE 🥹

#justin herbert #la chargers #nfl #football #los angeles chargers #training camp 2025

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yoonoy-uh · 1 month ago

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He looks so boyfriend in these 😩

#justin herbert #los angeles chargers #la chargers #we’ve had sm content of him lately 🥹#i love him sm #2025 offseason #such a dork

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honeydippedfiction · 2 months ago

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I am a firm believer that J Herbo is a munch AND HE FUCKING LOVES IT. So with that being said can I get 'getting close? don't worry, i'll take care of you.' 'you want me to sit on your face?' 'don't just stand there, you tease. come here and let me taste.' and 'you have no idea how long i've thought about having you like this.'

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

'getting close? don't worry, i'll take care of you.' 'you want me to sit on your face?' 'don't just stand there, you tease. come here and let me taste.' and 'you have no idea how long i've thought about having you like this.'

Justin Herbert x black!femreader

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

The morning sunlight slipped through the gauzy white curtains, spilling across the hardwood floor in soft, golden ribbons. Outside, a gentle breeze stirred the trees, the rustling leaves whispering in the quiet suburban hush. But inside the bedroom, tucked beneath layers of white linen and soft gray blankets, the world felt perfectly still.

Justin stirred as his body adjusted to the day, but his mind wasn’t in any rush. He blinked slowly, momentarily disoriented, then let his gaze settle on the woman sleeping beside him. A soft smile played at his lips.

Y/N was curled on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other resting lightly on his chest. Her curls spilled across the pillow like silk. But what truly caught his eye—what never failed to catch his breath, honestly—was the shirt she wore.

His shirt.

Green and gold, faded from years of wear and countless washes, the University of Oregon "O" stretched across her chest. The fabric, oversized on her smaller frame, hung just off one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of her collarbone. It was the same shirt he’d thrown on after practices back in college. The same one he'd slept in before big games, sweated through during workouts, and wore when dreaming of making it to the NFL.

Now it was draped over her like it had never belonged anywhere else.

He propped himself up on one elbow, brushing his fingers gently across the exposed skin of her shoulder. "You know," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep, "I'm never getting that shirt without a fight."

Y/N groaned quietly, her eyes still closed. “Too early for your threats, quarterback.”

He chuckled, the sound low and easy. “Not a threat. Just letting you know. That shirt is permanently yours now. You wear it better than I ever did.”

“Damn right I do,” she mumbled, cracking one eye open. “It’s soft. And it smells like you. Why would I ever give that up?”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Exactly my point.”

She turned her face toward him and smiled lazily. “You’re in a flirty mood this morning.”

“Hard not to be when you’re in my bed, in my shirt, looking like that,” he said, letting his hand trail down the curve of her hip beneath the blankets. “You’ve officially ruined it for every other piece of clothing I own.”

She laughed, eyes finally fluttering fully open. “You’re such a sap. I love it.”

“I love you,” he said, the words easy now, like breathing.

Y/N’s expression softened, her smile becoming something quieter, deeper. “I love you too, Justin.”

He settled back down beside her, pulling her against him until her head rested on his chest. They laid there in silence for a few moments, listening to the sound of their breathing, to the occasional chirp of a bird outside the window, and the distant hum of a lawnmower down the street. The world existed, but only faintly—just background noise to the slow rhythm they’d fallen into.

She reached up, tracing small circles on his chest with her fingertips. “You remember the first time I saw this shirt?” she asked.

He looked down at her, amused. “When you stole it?”

She grinned. “No, before that. You wore it on our second date. You were trying to play it cool, all casual, but you spent half the night tugging at the sleeves like you weren’t sure if it still fit right.”

He laughed, his cheeks flushing slightly at the memory. “Because it barely did. I hadn’t worn it in years. I was nervous.”

“You? Nervous? Please.” She raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

Justin shrugged, eyes twinkling. “You were out of my league.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth anyway. “You really need to stop saying that.”

“But it’s true.”

“You’re Justin Herbert. NFL quarterback. You’re literally in Madden.”

“And you’re Y/N. You’re... everything,” he said, his voice softening. “Smart, hilarious, gorgeous, grounded. I won on and off the field the day you said yes to me.”

She buried her face against his chest to hide her smile, cheeks warm. “Okay, that was smooth,” she admitted. “Fine. You get points for that.”

They both laughed, a shared warmth settling over them like a second blanket. Outside, the sun had climbed a little higher, casting golden rays across the bed. Justin turned slightly, pressing another kiss to her temple, then her jaw, trailing his lips down to her shoulder.

“So,” he murmured, lips brushing against her skin, “what’s the plan for today?”

She hummed, eyes fluttering closed again. “This. Just this.”

“No workouts, no meetings, no media. Just us?” he asked, already knowing the answer he wanted.

“Just us,” she confirmed. “And maybe pancakes later. But only if you make them.”

He groaned dramatically. “So I have to cook and look at you wearing my favorite shirt all day? Torture.”

She laughed, snuggling closer. “You’ll survive.”

They stayed like that for hours—talking, dozing, tangled up in each other with no urgency to move, no pressure to perform, no expectations except to just be. And for Justin, who lived a life of game clocks and press conferences, those quiet hours with Y/N were the kind of win he never saw coming.

As the morning turned to afternoon, and her laughter filled the room again over something ridiculous he said, he looked at her—really looked—and knew.

He wouldn’t trade this for anything. Not the fame. Not the spotlight. Not even for a Super Bowl ring.

The scent of maple syrup still lingered faintly in the air.

After a lazy morning in bed and a shared effort—read: Justin doing most of the work and Y/N flipping one very questionable pancake—they’d migrated to the couch, wrapped in an oversized throw blanket and the kind of warmth that came only from soft music, full stomachs, and the weight of being completely at ease with each other.

The TV played in the background, some documentary neither of them were really paying attention to, but neither seemed to mind. Justin sat in the corner of the sectional, legs stretched out and a hand resting lightly on Y/N’s thigh. She was curled against him, her cheek nestled against his shoulder, still wearing his Oregon shirt like a badge of honor.

Her legs were draped over his lap, one foot tucked under his knee. Every so often, his thumb traced idle circles against her skin, the kind of unconscious affection that came from knowing someone down to the quietest detail. No words were needed—there was something sacred in the silence between them.

Y/N shifted slightly, lifting her head to look at him. “You’ve been staring at me for like... the last ten minutes,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

He didn’t look away. “You’re kind of hard not to stare at.”

She gave him a mock sigh. “Do you ever turn it off?”

“Nope.” He grinned and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “You signed up for this.”

She rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t move away. Instead, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, letting them rest at the nape of his neck. “I must’ve been out of my mind.”

Justin feigned offense. “Excuse me?”

Y/N laughed, her thumb brushing just beneath his jaw. “You’re alright, Herbert.”

“Just alright?” he asked, leaning in a little closer.

“I mean... you do make good pancakes.”

“Ah, so I’m just here for my breakfast skills?”

“And the fact that you look very cute when you’re pouting,” she added, poking his cheek.

He caught her hand gently and pressed a kiss to her palm, lingering for a moment before meeting her gaze. His expression shifted, playful to something quieter, deeper. “You make everything better, Y/N.”

There was no smirk behind it. No teasing. Just truth, laid bare in the softness of his voice.

Her breath caught slightly. “You’re getting sappy again.”

“I know,” he murmured, inching closer. “Can’t help it. It’s a side effect of being in love.”

She smiled, wide and real. “Good. I love sappy.”

The afternoon settled in slow and lazy, like honey dripping down the side of a jar.

Sunlight spilled across the living room in long, drowsy beams, warming the hardwood floor and the sleepy energy between Justin and Y/N as they lay wrapped in each other on the couch. The remnants of their late breakfast—half-empty coffee mugs, a plate with two untouched pancakes, and a bottle of maple syrup with the cap left off—sat forgotten on the kitchen counter.

Neither of them had the energy or desire to clean up just yet. Not today. Not when everything in the world felt this still and safe.

Y/N was nestled in Justin’s lap, legs curled to the side, her body blanketed under one of the cozy throws his mom had gifted them last Christmas. She was still wearing his old Oregon shirt—stretched slightly at the neck now from being tugged over her curls that morning—and he hadn’t stopped admiring her in it since.

Her head rested against his chest as she idly scrolled through something on her phone, but even that had slowed in the last few minutes. Justin’s hand had found her thigh again, warm and absentminded, tracing slow, gentle patterns on her skin. He wasn't even sure he knew he was doing it, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she leaned into it.

“This is officially the best Sunday we’ve ever had,” she said, voice quiet and a little raspy from lack of use.

He tilted his head down to look at her. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Pancakes, cuddles, no media appearances, and I haven’t worn real pants all day.”

Justin grinned, fingers giving a playful squeeze to her thigh. “Big wins all around.”

“Very big wins,” she murmured, eyes closing briefly as she melted further into him. “Plus, I get to wear your shirt without you whining about it stretching.”

“I don’t whine.”

“You literally groaned when I put it on last week,” she reminded him, looking up with a smirk. “Said I was ‘messing with the integrity of the fabric.’”

Justin chuckled, head falling back against the couch cushion. “Okay, first of all, that shirt is from like… freshman year. That thing’s basically historic.”

“And now it’s mine,” Y/N said, sitting up just enough to tug at the hem teasingly. “And I look better in it than you ever did.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not arguing. “That’s… not inaccurate.”

She smiled in triumph, settling against him again, this time closer—her legs tucked under her body, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Her cheek pressed just beneath his collarbone. The scent of her lotion mixed with the faint trace of his own body wash still clinging to the shirt, and he couldn’t help but press a kiss into her curls.

It amazed him, how easily they fit. Even in the silence.

Especially in the silence.

The television continued to play in the background—some documentary neither of them had chosen, but had left running out of habit. Neither of them cared what it was about. It was just noise, something to fill the air between soft sighs and small smiles.

After a few minutes of quiet, Justin reached for the remote, clicking the volume down until the TV was just a whisper. He shifted beneath her, just enough to bring their faces closer.

She blinked up at him. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, one hand moving up to brush a loose curl from her face. “I just… want to see you.”

Y/N smiled softly at the admission. “You see me all the time.”

“Not like this,” he said. His voice had lost its playfulness now—quieter, steadier. “Not when everything else goes quiet. When it’s just us.”

She searched his face for a moment, heart flipping the way it always did when he got like this—unguarded, vulnerable, honest. She knew he didn’t open up like this to many people. The spotlight of football demanded so much from him—stoicism, strength, perfection. But here, like this, he could just be Justin.

And she loved every part of him.

“What do you see?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at her like he was still trying to find the right words. “Everything. I see the girl who dances in the kitchen when she thinks I’m not looking. Who eats strawberries one at a time like it’s a whole ritual. Who watches horror movies but hides behind me for all the jump scares. I see the woman who makes me want to be better every day—on the field, off it… just all of it.”

Y/N felt her breath catch. She wasn’t used to this kind of raw, unfiltered affection. Not without walls. Not without fine print. But with Justin, there was never a catch. There was just… truth.

“I see the person who makes this house feel like a home,” he added.

She looked away, just for a second, like maybe the intensity of it all was too much to take in at once. Then she looked back, eyes shining. “You’re gonna make me cry on a Sunday,” she whispered, half-laughing, half-hiding against his chest again.

Justin wrapped his arms fully around her, pulling her close. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” she said, voice muffled. “It’s kind of perfect.”

And it was.

The couch had grown quieter around them. The soft hum of the television had faded into background noise, and the late afternoon sunlight painted lazy golden stripes across the living room floor. Y/N sat tucked against Justin’s side, her body warm beneath the blanket, her head resting against his chest, and his arm draped across her shoulders like second nature.

For a while, they said nothing. Just the kind of silence that only exists between people who are completely at ease with one another.

But Justin’s hand didn’t stop moving—his fingers brushing slow, thoughtful lines along her thigh, as if committing the texture of her skin to memory. His eyes weren’t on the TV. They were on her.

“I don’t know how you do that,” he said quietly.

She tilted her head to glance up at him. “Do what?”

“Make everything feel… still. Like nothing outside of right now matters.”

Y/N smiled, her fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. “Maybe because it doesn’t. Not today.”

Justin gave a small nod, eyes never leaving hers. And then, without another word, he shifted beneath the blanket and gently tugged her closer—his hand at her waist, guiding her with ease until she was seated fully in his lap.

Y/N let out a surprised but amused sound. “Wow. Bold move.”

“Hey,” he murmured with a lazy grin, his hands steady on her hips, “it’s a lazy Sunday. I’m just helping you claim your rightful and actual seat.”

She looped her arms around his neck as she adjusted to straddle him, the blanket falling around their sides like a cocoon. They were face to face now, close enough that their noses brushed and their shared warmth made the air between them feel thicker, sweeter.

“Hi,” she said softly, teasing.

“Hi,” he echoed, eyes searching hers. “Can I kiss you?”

She laughed gently, brushing her thumb along his jaw. “You really have to ask?”

He didn’t answer with words.

Instead, he leaned in—slowly, like he wanted her to feel every inch of space he closed between them. His lips met hers in a kiss that was soft but sure, familiar but never boring. It was the kind of kiss that said I’m home, the kind that didn’t need to lead anywhere else to feel complete.

Y/N melted into it, her hands moving to the back of his neck, fingertips playing in his hair as he held her just a little tighter. One of his hands slid up to rest between her shoulder blades, anchoring her there, like if he let go, the moment might disappear.

They stayed like that for a while—kissing slowly, taking their time, pausing only to smile or breathe or brush noses. There was no rush. No need for more. Just the feeling of skin on skin, heart to heart, a quiet moment stretched out like something sacred.

Eventually, she rested her forehead against his, both of them still smiling.

“That was... very effective,” she whispered.

Justin gave a low laugh, his voice warm against her cheek. “Told you I needed my compensation for you wearing my shirt.”

Y/N’s body softened even more against him, like she was slowly melting into the curves of his frame, becoming part of the space they occupied together. Her fingers traced absent shapes on his chest, the rise and fall of it beneath her hand steady and familiar. The weight of his arm wrapped around her waist made her feel anchored, like nothing outside of this moment could touch them.

Justin tilted his head, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “You know,” he said, voice low and slow, “every time I kiss you, I forget what I was saying.”

Y/N looked up at him with a sly smile. “So you're saying I’m a distraction?”

“Like... the best kind,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers.

She giggled, eyes fluttering shut just as his lips found hers.

The kiss started unhurried. Just a gentle meeting of mouths, like a question and its answer. Familiar, sweet, and soft—nothing rushed or hungry. It was the kind of kiss born from comfort, from knowing exactly where you belonged and who you belonged with.

Justin’s hand slid up her back, warm beneath the hem of the shirt, fingers tracing the shape of her spine through the thin cotton. Her fingers found their way into his hair, tugging lightly, guiding him as the kiss deepened—still tender, but fuller now. Like they were both silently agreeing to stretch this moment as long as it could go.

Their lips moved in sync, pausing only to breathe each other in—foreheads touching, noses brushing, small sighs shared in the quiet space between kisses. There was no need to say anything. Every touch, every slow press of his lips against hers, said everything he didn’t have to speak aloud.

She shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against his as she adjusted herself to sit more fully in his lap. He welcomed it, hands steady at her hips now, grounding her. The blanket had slipped off them completely, pooling at their feet, but the room was warm enough—her body against his was warm enough.

Y/N pulled back just enough to look at him, her cheeks a little flushed, eyes still closed for a second longer than usual.

“That was… a lot for a lazy Sunday,” she whispered with a soft laugh.

Justin’s thumb brushed across her cheek, then traced down to her jaw, his eyes locked on hers. “We can be lazy and in love. It’s allowed.”

“Oh, we’re multitasking now?” she teased.

“Exactly,” he said, leaning in again to kiss her one more time—slower, more purposeful. “This is what bye weeks are for.”

She smiled into the kiss, letting herself sink into it once more, the rest of the world fading to background noise. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her palms was the only clock they followed, and the only plan for the day was right here, wrapped in warmth, kisses, and the quiet security of each other’s arms.

When they finally broke apart again—barely, just enough to breathe—Justin didn’t move far. His forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing, his thumb now tracing slow circles on the side of her neck.

They stayed like that, tangled and still, hearts beating in sync. Until he pulled back again—just enough to find her eyes.

He didn’t rush it. Didn’t try to charm it out. His hands rested on her waist now, steady, grounding. His gaze was steady, too—something behind it building like a tide.

“Y/N…” he began, his voice suddenly more careful, almost nervous. “Can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head, sensing the change instantly. Her body stilled. The quiet around them deepened.

“Of course,” she said, brushing her fingers gently along the side of his neck. “What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated for the briefest second, searching her face—maybe for reassurance, maybe for courage.

Then, gently, he asked.

“Can you sit on my face?”

He muttered the words, the tips of his ears suddenly tinging the lightest shade of pink, his gaze slipping down from her eyes to her lips. And Y/N felt her heart stop for a beat, her brain scrambling to catch up. She blinked, pulling back a little, her fingers resting gently against his chest.

“What?”

His smile was instant, as if her confusion had been exactly what he’d wanted. He leaned into her, brushing his thumb along the curve of her lip.

“I want you to sit on my face, pretty.” he said, a little more confidently this time, as if he’d just needed that extra push to let his words free.

She couldn’t help but grow shy all of a sudden. She had never done something like that before, never had a boyfriend who was so open about his desires.

“You… you want me to sit on your face?” she said, incredulously, gesturing to herself.

“I mean, if you want to,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips, “but you can also just sit on my dick. It’s up to you, really.”

Her face went completely red, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart was racing. No one had ever made her feel so… wanted. Not like this. She found herself nodding slowly, biting her lip as she considered it.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered, his eyes darkening a little, “and let me worship every inch of you.”

She hesitated, but his words echoed in her mind. Every inch. Could she do this? Could she let go of all her inhibitions and just… let him?

Justin must have sensed her hesitation because he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“Or we could just cuddle and watch Netflix, pretty. Whatever you want.”

She smiled at his earnestness, her heart melting a little. He always knew how to make her feel at ease.

“No... No we can try,” she said slowly, her cheeks flushing again. “And then see where it goes?”

He grinned, his dimple making an appearance as he scooped her up and headed for the bedroom.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he murmured against her lips. “Whatever she wants.”

Y/N could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as Justin laid her gently on the bed, his hands already wandering down her body. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, that she was about to let Justin eat her out while she was sitting on his face.

What had she gotten herself into? She couldn’t help but wonder.

But then Justin was kissing her again, slow and deep, and all her doubts seemed to melt away. He was so gentle, so caring, and she loved the way he made her feel—like she was the only woman in the world.

She felt herself relax, letting him take the lead. His hands were everywhere, teasing and caressing, making her gasp and moan. She was already wet, and she knew he could tell.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive,” he murmured against her skin, nipping at her collarbone. “It’s driving me crazy.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his words, feeling a surge of pride. She loved knowing that she could affect him so much, that she could drive him wild with desire.

When he finally slipped her panties down her legs, she was already aching for him. Justin then switched their places with him laying on the bed and her straddling his lap. His hands rubbing up and down her thighs teasing her. "Whenever you're ready beautiful." he whispered. And he looked so handsome laying beneath her with his brown hair and eyes full of lust and love.

She was a little nervous, but mostly excited. She wanted to please him, to make him feel good. She wanted to be his good girl.

She reached down to remove her shirt, but Justin stopped her. “No, pretty. Keep it on,” he said, his voice husky. “Now come here.”

He tapped her ass, urging her forward. She began moving up, her heart pounding. Justin's mouth watered at the sight of her glistening pussy, so wet and ready for him.

She hovered above his face, her hands braced against the headboard. She was afraid to put her full weight on him, unsure of what to do. Justin, ever patient, traced his hands up her thighs. “Don’t just stand there, you tease,” he murmured. “Come here and let me taste.”

She bit her lip, hesitating. But Justin was insistent. He nipped at the inside of her thighs, his hands gripping her hips. “I won’t break, pretty girl. Let me have you.”

Finally, with a soft whimper, she gave in. Justin wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulling her down onto his awaiting mouth.

The sensation was overwhelming. His tongue was hot and wet against her sensitive flesh, and she couldn't help but cry out. Her hands gripped the headboard tighter, her knuckles turning white as she tried to steady herself.

Justin groaned, the sound vibrating against her clit. "Fuck, you taste so good," he muttered, his tongue swirling around her clit. "I could eat you out all day."

She couldn't respond, couldn't form words. All she could do was moan and gasp, her hips moving instinctively against his mouth. He licked and sucked, his tongue working its magic. Justin moaned as she began to grind down against his tongue, "You have no idea how long I've thought about having you like this." he murmured, his words sending a thrill through her body.

She swore she wasn't coming back from this. She was growing addicted with each passing moment, with each pass of his tongue on her clit. “Fuck, Justin,” she moaned, her voice shaky.

She could feel him smile against her, the scratch of his beard on her thighs sending shivers through her. She closed her eyes, letting the pleasure wash over her. This was what she wanted, what she needed. To be lost in him, to be consumed by his touch.

As she rode his face, she couldn't help but feel a sense of power. He was completely at her mercy, his hands gripping her thighs as he devoured her. She ground down harder, feeling his tongue delve deeper.

"God, yes," she moaned, her head falling back. "Just like that."

Justin obliged, his tongue flicking rapidly over her clit before slipping down and teasing her entrance. Justin was always a generous and kind lover but when he was between her legs, he was relentless. It was one of her favorite things about him.

She gasped, her hips jerking. "Justin!"

She felt him chuckle, the sound reverberating through her. "What is it, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice muffled against her.

"So–mmph–so fucking good." she moaned. Justin lifted a hand tracing up her body until his fingers found her tits, squeezing before pinching her nipple. She cried out, arching into his touch.

Justin was relentless, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to drive her wild. She was a moaning, writhing mess, completely at his mercy.

“Yes, Justin, yes!” she gasped, her hips grinding down against his mouth. “Just like that!”

He growled against her, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through her. His tongue flicked rapidly over her clit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs.

He was insatiable, devouring her as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling back for a moment to catch his breath. His voice was thick with desire. “You taste so fucking good, baby. Just can't get enough of you.”

She whimpered at the loss of his mouth, her hips instinctively seeking out his touch. “Please, Justin,” she begged, her voice hoarse. “I need you.”

With a low growl, he dove back in, his tongue plunging deep into her core. She screamed, her back arching off the bed as he licked and sucked at her folds. His beard scraped against her thighs, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through her.

Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. She could feel her climax building, the pressure growing inside her. Justin must have sensed it too, because he redoubled his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive her to the edge.

He could feel her walls flutter around his tongue, "Getting close? Don't worry, I'll take care of you." he said.

Justin continued eating her out as if she was his last meal and he was on death row. His tongue and fingers worked together in perfect harmony, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. He moaned against her, sending vibrations straight to her clit. She gasped, her back arching as pleasure coursed through her.

“Justin, please,” she begged, not sure what she was asking for. More? Less? She just knew she needed him, needed this.

His response was to suck on her clit, hard, his tongue swirling around it. She cried out, her hands clenching in his hair as she rode his face. She couldn't believe how good this felt, how amazing Justin was making her feel. Her thighs were starting to tremble, the pleasure building to a fever pitch inside her.

She was close, so close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted, her hips bucking wildly. Justin held on tight, his mouth never leaving her. He was groaning against her, the sound sending vibrations through her body.

“God, Justin,” she gasped, her voice shaky. “You’re going to make me come.”

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. “That’s the idea, pretty girl,” he murmured before diving back in, his mouth working her over with renewed enthusiasm.

She whimpered, her hips moving frantically against his mouth.

She was going to come, she realized. She was actually going to come from sitting on his face.

The knowledge sent her spiraling over the edge. She cried out his name, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her pussy clenched around his tongue, and he groaned, licking her through her orgasm. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he continued to feast on her. It was too much, too intense, but she didn't want him to stop. She wanted this to go on forever. Her screams echoed off the walls, her body shaking and trembling. She didn't think she'd ever come like this before, so hard, so intense. It was all because of Justin, because of the way he was devouring her. “Good girl,” Justin murmured, his voice thick with pride. “That’s my good fucking girl.”

He didn't stop, even as she came. His tongue kept moving, drawing out her pleasure until she was whimpering with overstimulation.

“J-Justin,” she panted, tugging at his hair. “I can’t… It’s too much.”

Her legs felt like jelly, and she collapsed onto the bed beside him, gasping for breath.

Justin moved up her body, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it only made her want him more.

“Fuck,” she panted against his lips. “That was… wow.”

Justin grinned, his dimples making an appearance. “Told you I’d take care of you, pretty.”

She laughed breathlessly, her hand coming up to cup his

She looked over at Justin, who was grinning at her like a proud little boy. “Fuck, that was hot,” he breathed, his voice rough. “You’re so fucking sexy when you come.”

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, but before she could say anything, Justin was sitting up, his arms wrapping around her waist. He pulled her down, kissing her deeply, the taste of her own arousal on his lips. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and she knew exactly what he wanted.

“Did you like it?” she asked, her voice breathy.

Justin chuckled, his fingers tracing her spine. “Like it? Fuck, Y/N, I loved it. You have no idea how hot it was to have you sitting on my face like that.”

She smiled, feeling a surge of confidence. “Yeah? How much?” she smirked. Justin kissed her again, “Well let me show you how much.” reaching down to push down his sweatpants.

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yelenasbraid · 2 months ago

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JUSTIN HERBERT — country club

summary — it’s justin’s first time at a new course. he meets a beautiful and witty woman at the country club, but will he ever see her again?

warnings — fem!reader, fluff

note — this is my first justin fic! this honestly might suck but it’s okay :/

tags — @irishmanwhore @hannahjessica113 (comment/send an ask to be added!)

THE WARM CALIFORNIA SUN kissed his skin. They’d just finished 18 holes, and he and a couple friends were wandering back towards the club.

He’d not been to this course before. It was beautiful, covered with a lush green course and a beautiful cabin style country club. Justin wasn’t sure about trying a new course, something about he’d have to learn a new swing, but he did it anyways.

Justin walked in and while his friends took a seat, he walked up to the counter. His eyes spotted her, a beautiful woman with a bright smile. He’s seen plenty of pretty girls, so he brushed it off.

“What can I get you?” she asked him, sliding a beer over to another patron. She didn’t let her eyes wander too much, even if the man in front of her was attractive enough to let it slide.

“Uh, just a water, thanks,” he smiled, settling his hands on the counter.

“Sure,” she nodded, “you want it in a glass or a bottle?”

“Man, I didn’t know there was another option than a glass,” he chuckled awkwardly. She only smiled at him, and for a moment she let her eyes wander. His hands were rested on the counter, his biceps straining against the fabric of his polo. His hair was neatly tamed, tucked behind his ears and under a hat.

“It’s a country club,” she chuckled, “we’re a little bit fancier than your typical bar,”

“Yeah yeah, guess you’re right,” he felt his cheeks warm, the butterflies in his stomach erupting. He admired her for a moment, the way the lighting of the room cast beautiful shadows on her skin. She moved effortlessly behind the counter, confidently choosing a glass and pouring water into it.

“I typically am,” she joked, sliding the glass across the counter to him, “here’s your glass of water,”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. He didn’t want to leave the counter, but he didn’t know what else to talk about. She was someone who he felt comfortable around, someone who he felt he could be himself around. It was crazy to even think that, considering he just met her.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked him, drying off her hands. She had regulars every weekend and they didn’t change. Having new people show was always fun.

“No, my friends dragged me here,” he joked, and she chuckled. She served another drink, a beer, before she turned her attention back to the man in front of her.

“Don’t think you’re going back out to the course anytime soon,” she sighed, nodding her head towards the windows. The roar of the rain echoed in the lounge area, rain pattering against the roof. Justin winced, tapping his fingers against the bar top.

“I was hoping to get a couple more holes in,” he sighed, “guess that’s not happening,”

“You could always wait the rain out. Might be a while though,” she suggested, shrugging her shoulders. Most of the people she met through the counter were older men or frat guys. They all tried to flirt their way into her bed or have their phone number. This guy, whatever his name was, ignited a certain curiosity in her. He was incredibly attractive and he had kind eyes.

“Nah, it’s okay,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his water, “we’ve been out there all day. It’ll be nice to go home and relax,”

“I bet, the rain is perfect reading weather,” she offered, flicking her eyes over his face.

“I agree, it’s not the best weather for farmers though,” he shrugged, including his own sliver of his personal life into the conversation.

“You have animals?” she asked, her brow creasing. She grew up around animals; dogs, cats, even some horses.

“Yeah, chickens, goats, sheep. They’re at my dad’s place and I go visit every now and then,”

“So you grew up around animals,” she nodded her head, “my mom had a couple horses growing up. Learned to ride with her,”

“Really? Dad never owned horses, said they were walking vet bills,” he joked. She laughed, and he wanted to bottle the sound and shove it away. She was beautiful.

“Your dad isn’t wrong,” she agreed, “my mom’s one horse, Nova, she had so many hoof problems she practically ran my mom out of money,”

“Your mom had a horse named Nova?” he asked. The more he spoke with her, the more he figured they had things in common. It glued his feet to the ground, made him want to stay and talk to her.

“Yeah, why?” she asked, her brow furrowing together.

“I uh, I have a cat named Nova,” he admitted, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of pink.

Justin felt his heart skip a beat. He’s been so laser focused on football that he didn’t think he’d ever have time for a relationship. Not to mention the last one didn’t go so well. His walls were still up, guarding him, but the turrets were down. There was something about her.

“No way,” she laughed, “that’s hilarious. I have to see a picture,”

Justin pulled out his phone, his hands shaky. He was excited, more than happy to share part of his life with her. He was shocked at himself, but at the same time, he wasn’t. She was someone he felt comfortable around.

“Say hello to my little friend,” he showed her a picture of his cat, a beautiful bengal.

“She’s beautiful,” she gasped, and then her eyes flicked up meet his, “Scarface?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. She kept a warm smile on her face, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt at peace, for some reason. He wasn’t the type of guy to flirt with her, to make her feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t the type of guy to make her feel comfortable, to make her laugh. It made her heart skip a beat.

“Anyways,” she cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks warm, “I think your friends are looking for you,”

Justin turned around, making eye contact with some of the guys he came with. They waved, some of them winked, and Justin only rolled his eyes.

“They can wait,” he shrugged, taking a sip of the water he almost forgot about. He flicked her eyes to her hands, which rested on the counter. His heart slammed against his ribcage. He wanted to see her again.

She tapped her fingers against the bar top, her chest tight. She was between starting a new topic of conversation and just walking away, but she didn’t want to walk away. He was cute, friendly even, and she wasn’t a fan of the idea of just leaving him there.

“You said earlier you’ve not been to this course before,” she started, “so, where are you from?”

“Los Angeles,” he answered, “I uh, I work down there,”

“Oh? What do you do for work?” she asked him, filling up her own glass of water.

“Football,”

“You play for the Chargers?” she asked. She wasn’t totally out of the loop when it came to football. Her brothers played football in college, but she wasn’t that heavily involved in it.

It’s what made Justin so intrigued.

“Yeah, I’m their quarterback,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You throw the ball, right?” she asked with a teasing smile on her lips. She knew what the quarterback did.

“Yeah, yeah I throw the ball,” he chuckled nervously. Another moment of awkward silence filled the air. She sipped at her water, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat.

“Justin!” his name was called, and as he turned around, he watched as his friends waved him back over.

“Guess I should go back over,” he sighed, flicking his eyes back to her. He swore, for a moment, he saw her expression flicker. He couldn’t hope it was disappointment; he just met her.

“That’s unfortunate,” she pressed her lips together, but before he left, he took a napkin and scribbled something on the material.

“Here,” he offered, “I know we just met, but if I ever find myself back here, we should, uh, get some coffee or something,”

He’d offered her his number. She felt her heart leap in her chest. She pulled out her phone and texted him; she didn’t want to forget. He felt his phone buzz in his hand, and he flicked his eyes down.

“Y/N,” he hummed, feeling out her name on his tongue, “it was a pleasure to meet you,”

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” she agreed, “and in case I don’t see you, good afternoon, good evening, and good night,”

“The Truman Show?” he grinned, turning to walk away.

“A classic,” she laughed. He nodded his head, feeling his heart beat fervently in his chest. Justin didn’t believe in love at first sight, but as he turned her name over in his head, he reconsidered the idea.

#justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #nfl imagine #la chargers #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert imagines

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v6quewrlds · 4 months ago

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THIS LOVE I HAVE FOR YOU, JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x high school sweetheart!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀9.4k.

summary⠀⁎⠀you've spent the last ten years of your life supporting, adoring, loving justin herbert. for ten years that was all you needed: loving justin. until a night out with colleagues strikes you with the realization that loving justin has come at the expense of choosing almost anything else.

author's note⠀⁎⠀did a ridiculous amount of reddit forum research on finance + private equity for about three sentences. loved writing this one! potential au/series <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀3rd person (she/her), angst, language maybe?, one usage of y/n.

When you're sixteen years old, you think you know everything. You're in the throes of adolescence, your whole life ahead of you, and you're certain that the person you're with now is the one you're going to be with forever. You make promises in the hallways of your high school, whisper plans that your teenage brain isn't fully capable of understanding the sheer magnitude of into the phone, and organize every waking breath around the desperation to be together.

She had been that girl. Obsessing over emoji choices, angling her selfies just right, and idly writing his name in the margins of her notebooks in swirled cursive. Justin, Justin, Justin; she painted her entire world in shades of him.

For ten years, those shades of Justin, all things Justin, had been her entire life.

College was a learning curve for them both, but they managed to make it work. Justin's football scholarship had taken him just a few miles from home, and she had followed. She chose a safer, albeit more difficult major, finance, which kept her mind occupied while Justin's star on the football field grew brighter. Weekends were spent at his games, cheering him on as he threw touchdown after touchdown, her heart swelling with pride. Weekdays were spent in the library, her nose buried in textbooks and assignments, the fizz of energy drinks and the hum of her beat-up, noisy laptop her only companions.

Reaching the second semester of their senior year offered only a week of respite before Justin was thrown in the world of NFL Scouting. Her own dreams of graduate studies and a career in private equity felt like whispers in the shadow of his burgeoning football career. The conversations grew shorter, the dates grew less frequent, and the shared glances grew colder. Yet, they held on, promising each other that once he was drafted, once he had a team, once he had a season under his belt, things would go back to normal. But "normal" remained a mirage on the horizon, a concept that grew more and more distant with each passing day.

The only point of "normal" in their lives was her commitment to being exactly what Justin needed. She'd put aside her own aspirations to support him, to be the rock he leaned on. She'd given up on the idea of going to graduate school across the country on the east coast, accepting the offer of USC's more expensive Master of Science in Finance program to be close to him, to be his source of "normal" so far from home.

Paradoxically, his star power had awarded her praise and made her invisible at the same time. Everyone knew her as "Justin Herbert's girlfriend," the one who'd been with him since high school, who'd stuck by his side through it all.

She still remembered the way she had been praised online for a week after his draft night. When his name was called, 6th overall, he rose to embrace his parents first, his brothers, then her, a gesture that had been captured by cameras and splashed across the internet. "The girlfriend who said no to a full ride for love," the headlines had read. They raved about her dress, her smile, her poise. How she never hogged the spotlight, never took the shine away from him.

Their parents had always been thrilled, beaming with joy at the thought of their star-crossed love story. Holly had a running list of gorgeous wedding venues, while her father had mentally started envisioning the father-daughter dance. But as the years went by, and the seasons changed from football to weddings, she kept wondering when it would be their turn.

"Soon", was always Justin's promise. "Soon that'll be us. Signing marriage certificates, sharing a first dance, honeymooning in Hawaii". But soon had become a taunt in her mind. The season had a way of swallowing up time, leaving her with crumbs of attention and a mountain of empty promises. Her own life had become a series of "not yet"s and "just wait"s. And she had, she had waited.

She waited so long that she no longer had to carefully construct a hopeful response when their friends and family spoke about their future together. She waited so long that the question of "when are you two tying the knot?" had become a greeting rather than a curious inquiry. She waited so long that Justin's non-reaction to her hints about marriage had turned into a hope that by just ignoring it, it would come sooner.

All of these realizations had floated near her consciousness, just out of reach with the constant buzz of Justin's schedule. But during a night out with her coworkers, it had all crystallized.

She wanted to go to Johannesburg. It was possibly her most defining characteristic aside from who her boyfriend was, a desire that had been with her since she was a child, sparked by a documentary she had watched with her mother. She'd always dreamed of seeing the wildlife, the vibrant culture, and the stark beauty of the city she'd seen in the footage. So when another third-year associate, Noel, asked why she had never gone, she blanked.

The truth was, she had never left the country. Not once. Justin had never shown an interest in traveling, always citing his discomfort with flying private or his need to unwind at home, in Oregon, after the season. So, she never got a passport, hoping her lack of documentation would keep her from even looking at potential flights. But tonight, she finally had to admit to someone else what she had been too afraid to admit to herself. "Justin's schedule keeps us pretty busy," she'd murmured, her voice barely carrying over the chatter of the bar. "We haven't had the chance."

The silence that followed her confession to Noel was deafening. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her chest tight and her eyes stinging. So the conversation moved on, but the weight of her truth remained, a leaden presence in her chest.

Lightheartedly, the conversation eventually moved to relationships - or the group's general lack thereof. Not her. When Jordan casually asked how long she had been with Justin, she felt like a spotlight was shone on her. "Ten years," she replied, her voice a mix of pride and something else. Something that didn't quite fit with the expression on her face.

The group's collective gasp was a mix of awe and sympathy. "Ten years?" Folake questioned, a hint of pity in her voice. "And you've never been with anyone else? That's… intense, girl. You're only 26."

Her cheeks warmed with a rush of embarrassment she hadn't felt since high school. She took a sip of her drink, trying to swallow the discomfort. "It's not like that," she protested, her voice small. But the words felt hollow, even to her own ears. "We're good together. I've known him forever." She lifted her drink to her lips again, adding a monotone "literally" for good measure.

Her coworkers nodded politely, but their expressions remained skeptical. They were all young and eager, exploring the world beyond their cubicles, and she suddenly felt ancient and untouched by the world beyond her relationship. The realization grew sharper with each nod, each kind but knowing smile.

Her mind raced as she headed home that night, her thoughts swirling like a tornado of doubt and regret. While she had spent her college years tied to the sidelines, her peers had traveled the world, stayed out all night, and experienced the thrill of one night stands and heartbreaks. They had grown into their own people, shaped by the people they'd loved - and grown to hate. They'd learned from their mistakes, grown stronger, and had stories to tell. But her? All she had was Justin. For ten years, Justin was enough. But now, with the starkness of her own stagnation laid bare, she was no longer sure if it was enough.

The floorboards creaked under her feet as she entered the living room, the house eerily quiet without the usual background noise of Justin's video games or his humming of some Yacht Rock hit under his breath. She inhaled deeply, smelling the lingering scent of his meal prepped dinner - something packed with protein and greens, a meal she had learned to cook because it was what he needed.

She tiptoed into their bedroom, her eyes immediately picking up on his sleeping form despite the darkness. The TV was off, remote discarded haphazardly on the bedside table. She took a moment to simply look at him, the man who had been her entire world for so long. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and she felt the tug of something deep within her, a strange cocktail of fear rising in her throat.

As if symbolic of that fear, she could feel her drinks come up, threatening to spill the truth along with their contents. She swallowed hard, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She tried to ease her breathing, the quiet of the night seeming to amplify every little sound.

Then the sheets rustled, and Justin's eyes blinked open. "Babe?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "When did you get back?"

"Just now," she replied, her voice wavering slightly. She stared at the floor, avoiding his gaze. Swallowing thickly, she added, "Go to sleep, J. I'll come to bed in a minute."

Justin exhaled deeply through his nose, nodding without protest and closing his eyes again. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, burying her face in her hands. How could she explain that she was breaking down because she had never truly lived? Because she had given up so much of herself for him that she didn't know who she was anymore?

She loved him. She swore she did. But as she stared at the ceiling, listening to his even breaths, she couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. The house, once filled with the warmth of their laughter and shared dreams, now felt like a museum of memories rather than a living space. Each room was a shrine to a past she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.

"So, Saturday morning, Pat's gonna come over to help me with that entertainment center," Justin announced casually at breakfast the next day, his eyes on his phone. She stared at the cereal in her bowl, her spoon hovering above the surface.

"Okay," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't look up from his phone. "It's been sitting there for like a year, might as well get it done since I have some time."

She nodded, her mind racing. Time. That's what it boiled down to. Time for him to build his man cave, and no time for her desires to travel. The cereal in her bowl had gone soggy, the taste of the milk turning unappetizing in her mouth. "Hey," she started softly, unsure. "Can we… talk about something?"

Justin looked up, his eyes scanning her face, looking for a clue to her mood. "Yeah, sure," he said, setting his phone aside. "What's up?"

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. "Do you ever wish you had explored other options in college?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Justin blinked, once, twice, the question seemingly catching him off guard. He paused, tilting his head as he considered his response. "What do you mean, like majoring in something else?"

"No, I mean… with us," she clarified, her voice growing stronger. "Do you ever think about what it would have been like to date other people?"

Justin balked at that, as if immediately rejecting the idea. "What other options?" he asked, his tone one of genuine confusion. "I had you."

The simplicity of his response hit her like a sledgehammer. He had never doubted them, never questioned their destiny to be together. He had never felt the need to explore other relationships because he had her. But she was doubting, she was questioning, and it was tearing her apart.

"I know, but…" she said, pushing her cereal bowl away with a frustrated huff.

Justin's eyes tracked her movements, a frown furrowing his brow. "But what? Why would I need anyone else when I have you?" He reached out, placing a gentle hand on her arm. The warmth of his touch was familiar, almost comforting. Almost.

She looked at her hand, feeling the weight of the promise ring on her finger. "Because maybe we've been too comfortable," she murmured. "We've been together since we were sixteen. We've never really lived apart from each other, never experienced other relationships, other people."

"Babe," he began, his voice low. "Are you being serious right now?"

Her throat tightened as she met his gaze. "Yes," she whispered. "I just… I think we need to take some time apart."

Justin's hand retreated from her arm like it had been scalded. He sat back in his chair, the color draining from his face. "What?"

"I know this isn't what you want to hear," she started, her voice shaking, "but I think my entire identity has been wrapped up in being your girlfriend for so long that I don't know who I am without you." She watched as Justin's eyes searched hers, desperation and confusion swirling in his gaze. "I don't know if this is what I want anymore."

Justin's jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white as he clasped his hands together. "Are you breaking up with me?" the words spilled out. "Did I do something?"

She hesitated, her heart aching as she watched the shock wash over Justin's face. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so lost. "I don't…" she trailed off, averting his gaze. "I just think we need some space to figure out what we want."

His hands unclenched and he sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. "Okay," Justin said finally, his voice barely a murmur. "I guess if that's what you think you need." He drew in a slow breath, closing his eyes and pinching at the bridge of his nose, as if trying to hold back his emotions.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him process her words. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just…"

"It's fine," Justin said, his own voice tight. "We can take a break or whatever. I don't care."

But it wasn't fine. Not for either of them. The air in the room had thickened, their shared history hanging heavily around them like an invisible shroud. She felt like she was drowning in the weight of the words she had just spoken.

"Justin," she began, her voice cracking, "I'm sorry. It's just…" But she couldn't find the words to explain the maelstrom of emotions inside her. She felt guilty for her doubts, for the years of sacrifice she had made, for the future she was now unsure of.

Justin's eyes searched hers, his face a canvas of pain. "You don't have to justify it to me," he said. "I just don't know how we're gonna explain this to everyone else."

It was wedding season. A lineup of white dresses and happy couples with months-old RSVPs that now felt like a cruel joke. The thought of attempting to explain to her family and friends, to the brides and grooms who had eagerly invited them, was nauseating. So they agreed, not to lie, but to omit. They would still attend the weddings, dance, laugh, take photos, and play the part of the happy sweethearts.

The first wedding they had to face was a family friend of hers, someone she had known since childhood. The ceremony was held in a picturesque garden, the flowers in full bloom and the air filled with the sweet scent of roses and the distant chatter of guests. Justin looked dashing in his baby-blue button-up and dress pants. His skin glowed under the soft sunlight, and a pair of black sunglasses hung casually on his collar.

Her yellow bridesmaid's dress, her fourth in five years, hugged her body in a way that highlighted her figure. The fabric whispered against her skin as she walked down the aisle, her eyes focused on the altar. She felt Justin's gaze on her, the weight of his stare heavier than any bouquet. She didn't dare look at him, afraid that if she looked at him, she'd shatter the illusion or crumble on the spot.

The wedding was a blur of forced smiles and small talk. Every time her thoughts drifted to their impending breakup, she'd be yanked back to reality by a well-meaning auntie or uncle asking when it would be their turn. She would laugh politely, playing along, while the ache in her chest grew sharper with each passing minute. Justin, ever the charmer, fielded questions with his media-trained ease, but she could see the sadness lurking beneath his surface, a numbness that kept the creases from reaching his eyes when he smiled.

His familiar way of reaching out for her burned. The habitual hand splayed on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd, the casual kiss on her forehead as he left her side to refill their drinks. It was second nature, and she hated herself for craving it even as she knew she needed to break away.

"You ready to go?" Justin's voice broke through her thoughts as the reception began to wind down, the newlyweds having made their grand exit. She nodded, clearing her throat and forcing a smile. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

They left the party hand in hand, a silent agreement to keep up appearances, but the second they were out in the open air, she let go. They walked the two blocks to their rented hotel room in complete silence. The room, much like their RSVPs, had been booked, for a couple, nearly a year in advance. A king-sized bed with crisp, white linens taunted her from the center of the room.

"I can call the front desk," Justin offered, his voice strained. "See if they have a single room available."

Her gaze remained on the bed, her heart racing at the thought of sleeping in the same room with him. She took a deep breath, willing her voice to be steady. "No, it's okay. It's just one night." She turned to him. "We've shared a bed for years. What's one more?"

Justin's eyes searched hers, his expression a mix of hope and despair. He began to say her name, breathing every syllable out as if it were heavy on his tongue, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Justin," she said firmly. "I'm the one who put us in this situation. It's my fault. I don't want to cause any more trouble than I already have." She pasted on a smile that she hoped was convincing. "Let's just get through the night. I know you're exhausted."

He nodded, his throat bobbing with the effort of swallowing his emotions, all the thoughts passing through his mind dying on the tip of his tongue. She felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders as she approached the bed. She slid under the covers, turning her back to his side of the bed, willing sleep to come and relieve her of the turmoil in her heart.

She was fast asleep by the time Justin finished his shower. The room was dark, the only light coming from the gap of the curtains allowing the city lights to leek into the room. Her rhythmic breathing filled the space, a sound that had once been comforting but now almost felt like a countdown. He slid into the bed with as much grace as he could muster, his movements calculated not to wake her. But as the mattress shifted, she rolled towards him, her head coming to rest on his chest.

Her skin was pebbled with goosebumps from the cold, her breaths shallow and quick. She was still asleep, her search for his warmth unconscious. He could feel the heat of her cheek against his bare chest, the softness of her skin against his. He wanted to turn the other way, to maintain the space they had agreed upon, but he knew her too well.

She didn't sleep well when she was cold, and the chill in the room had always been the perfect excuse for their cuddling. Realistically, he could call down to the front desk, request a blanket, and she would sleep well enough, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to give up this moment of closeness, of normalcy. So he lay there, feeling his chest rise and fall with each of her breaths, feeling her warmth spread through him like a warm blanket. For just one more night, he could pretend that she hadn't broken his heart. That she didn't want something that wasn't him.

He knew he should move her, give them both the space they needed to begin the process of breaking, but he couldn't. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her closer, and kissed her forehead, her skin smelling faintly of the floral perfume she'd worn to the wedding. For a brief moment, everything felt as it had before their conversation—right, complete, as if their hearts were beating in sync.

The next wedding was for a college friend of theirs. It was an elegant affair at a historic mansion. High ceilings and chandeliers reflected in the polished floors, creating a dazzling display that managed to distract the other guests from the fact that she and Justin had kept to separate sides of the venue.

Justin had been avoiding her gaze all night, his heart hammering in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of her in her floor-length gown that brought out the warmth of her eyes and the radiance of her brown skin. He watched her mingle from the other side of the room, a chilled beer in his hand, his smile plastic as he talked with friends he hadn't seen in months, others in years. They all asked the same questions, the same "What's the mood in the locker room?" or "How do the new guys look?" and dreadfully, "When are you gonna be sending out your own invitations?" His answers were rehearsed, delivered with the same charm that had won over so many, but for some reason had pushed her away.

"Yo, Herbo!" A deep, jovial voice boomed across the reception hall, cutting through the chatter and the clinking of champagne flutes. Justin looked up to see one of his old college buddies, Jeremiah, striding towards him with a beer in hand. Jeremiah Wells was a towering presence, with a smile that could ease the pants off a snake. "How's the off-season treating you?"

Justin managed a smile, his eyes darting to her across the room, who was deep in conversation with two of her old college friends. "It's… yeah, it's been good, Wells."

Jeremiah slapped him on the back, bringing him in for a hug. "It's good to see you, man. And Y/N too, of course." Justin nodded, his heart twisting at the mention of her name. "But where is she?" Jeremiah scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on her. "Oh, there she is."

Justin's ears perked up at that. For all of Jeremiah's easygoing nature, he had always had a keen eye for the truth. He had a high level of intuition, a trait that made him an excellent day trader, and it was clear that he sensed something was amiss with her and Justin. "Is everything okay with you two?" he asked, his smile still in place but his eyes searching.

Justin took a sip of his beer, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "We're fine. You know, life gets busy. Shit happens." He hoped the steadiness in his voice would be enough to throw Jeremiah off, but the way his friend's eyes searched his told him it wasn't.

"Come on, man. You can tell me," Jeremiah urged, leaning in closer. "If you guys are going through something, maybe I can help. Give you a different perspective?" He nudged Justin gently, his expression earnest.

Justin felt the pressure building behind his eyes, the strength in his posture threatening to crack. He took a deep breath, trying to keep the emotions at bay. "Jere," he began, his voice gruff. "It's not that simple."

"Try me. I swear on my life," Jeremiah said, his voice low and serious. "If you just need to vent, I got you, man. Whatever's going on, you know you can trust me."

Gray-green eyes flickered over to her. She was laughing at something one of her friends had said, and for a moment, Justin felt a pang of jealousy. He remembered making her laugh like that, the way her eyes crinkled at the sides and her mouth stretched wide, revealing that familiar row of teeth. He missed it. He missed her.

He didn't know how he was supposed to let that go.

"We're taking a break. Or breaking up? I don't—" he shook his head, cutting himself off. "I don't know what we're doing."

Jeremiah's smile faded, his eyes searched Justin's. "For real?"

Justin nodded, the motion almost imperceptible. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "For real."

Jeremiah's expression grew serious. "Shit, man, I had no idea." He took a step closer, his hand resting on Justin's shoulder. "But I'm guessing that was kind of the point? Not letting anyone know?"

Justin nodded again, his throat tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. "Yeah. She came home one night and said she needed to find herself and explore her options. Said she didn't know if this was really what she wanted." His voice cracked on the last word, and he took a deep, shaky breath. "We've got one more wedding to get through before we start telling anyone."

Jeremiah's gaze remained on him, filled with concern. "Justin," he said, his voice gentle. "Is that what you want? To 'explore other options'?"

Justin took a long pull from his beer, the cool liquid doing little to ease the burning in his chest. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I love her. And if that's what she needs, I'll do it."

If the way Jeremiah's lips pressed into a thin line told Justin anything, it was that his friend wasn't buying the act. "I didn't ask what you thought she needed," Jeremiah said, his eyes unwavering. "I asked if that was what you want."

Justin took a moment to consider the question. The truth was, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. All he knew was that the thought of her with someone else was like a knife twisting in his gut. "I just don't want to lose her," he said finally. "But if this is what it takes for her to be happy, then I guess I'll have to figure it out."

That wasn't it either. Jeremiah laughed, a low, knowing sound. "So I guess the answer to my question is 'no'?" A dark eyebrow quirked up. "If you don't want this to be the end, you gotta tell her, Justin. You can't just sit back and hope she reads your mind. If she's feeling lost, you've got to be the one to help her find her way back."

Justin stared into his beer, the condensation on the amber bottle pooling down the side, creating a wet ring around the bottom. "What if she doesn't want to come back to me?" he murmured, the words barely audible over the music.

Jeremiah's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Then you fight for her, man. You don't let the girl that you love just walk away without showing her what she's really giving up." His voice was firm, filled with the kind of conviction that only came from personal experience. "But you've got to be honest with her. If you keep playing this game of pretend, you're just going to end up hurt. Both of you."

Justin nodded, the words resonating deep within him. He knew Jeremiah was right, but the fear of rejection was paralyzing. What if she truly didn't see a future with him? What if he was the reason she felt so stifled? The mere thought of it was enough to make his heart ache. He took a deep breath, nodding with pursed lips. "Thanks, Jere," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'll think about it."

They stood there for a moment longer, the music and laughter of the wedding party a stark contrast to the gravity of their conversation. Then, with a final pat on the back, Jeremiah excused himself, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't help but watch her across the room, the way she moved, the way she talked, the way her eyes sparkled with life. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time in years, really seeing her, and the pain of knowing he could lose her was unbearable.

He shifted his weight, leaning his back against the bar to get a good look at her. From across the room he was reminded of the first time he realized he was in love with her, before he could fully articulate all the intricate little meanings of love. It was at his Senior Night, after the final football game of his high school career. He had been surrounded by the cheers of victory, the smell of the field still in his nostrils, but it was her, with her smile and those damn beautiful eyes, that mattered most.

It took an entire PowerPoint to convince her to walk with him on the field. She was worried about taking the moment away from his parents and friends, but he insisted that she was just as much a part of his moment as anyone else. So, she'd walked with him, reluctantly, but with him nonetheless. He remembered the fro-yo date afterward, the way she'd laughed to the point of snorting when he'd accidentally spilled a spoonful of sugary ingredients all over the floor. He remembered her dragging him to the bathroom to retrieve a handful of paper towels to escape the glare of the unamused teenager behind the check-out counter. He remembered the way her eyes had shone when he'd told her that he'd follow her anywhere—even to the ends of the earth, if that's where her dreams led.

And here he was, a decade later, wondering if he had ever truly followed her anywhere at all. The realization was a slap in the face. He had been so focused on his own dreams, his own ambition, that he had failed to support hers. He had been so caught up in following his dreams that he wasn't sure if she was living out hers.

It was then that her point became clear. The weddings were a microcosm of their life together—beautiful, expected, but ultimately not hers. Just like her dreams, just like her life.

Finding a realtor had been surprisingly easy. She had a great job, an excellent credit score, and a clear idea of what she wanted. A one, or two-bedroom apartment with a decent view, a reasonable commute to work, and a park within walking distance. The real estate agent, a bubbly woman in her mid-20s named Esme, had shown her half a dozen options before she finally found the one. It was a cute, modern space with an open-plan living room and kitchen, and a balcony that looked out over the city lights. It checked every box and added a few more she hadn't realized she had.

"I think we like this one!" Esme announced in that sing-songy tone of hers. She shoulders wiggled in a little dance as she bounced over to her.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the space. It was a nice place, no doubt about it. The white walls contrasted nicely against the dark hardwood floors, giving the room a clean, spacious feel. The kitchen was on the smaller side but functional, with a sleek fridge and a gas stove that called to her inner chef. The living room held a plush couch and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that seemed to whisper promises of quiet nights and good reads.

But there was something missing. As she wandered from room to room, her excitement was tainted by the ghost of what once was. Justin would hate an apartment like this. He had always talked about a house with a big backyard and enough space so they could host barbecues and watch the sunset. She could practically hear his grumbled complaints in her ear. Not too loud that the realtor would be able to hear. No, he was always much too polite for that. He would grumble just for her with a pout that was so cute it made her want to laugh, even when she disagreed with him.

They had talked about their dream house so many times over the years. It had grown and evolved as they had, but it had always been a shared vision. Now, as she pictured herself living here alone, the vision felt like it was slowly slipping away.

"I do like it," she smiled weakly at Esme, who was watching her expectantly. "I… I think we can move forward with this one."

Esme clapped her hands together with a cheerful smile. "Perfect! We'll get the paperwork started right away. It's a popular building, so you're lucky to have snagged it." She began to gather her brochures and keys. "I've had a few clients wait just a little too long and miss out. But with your income and credit score, you should be good to go!"

She nodded, trying to keep the smile plastered on her face as she thought about the last time she had moved, the excitement of moving into her home with Justin after college. How they had toured homes in South Bay, looking for the perfect place to start their life together. Now, that perfect place with the marble counters she chose and the custom pool tiling Justin picked out was drifting farther out of her reach.

"Thank you," she said to the realtor as they exited the multi-storied, sleek apartment building, her voice a mere echo of its usual self. "I'll try to give you the green light as soon as I can."

Esme nodded understandingly. "Take your time! This is a big step. But I'm here to help." With a cheery wave, she left her side to find her car.

She stood on the sidewalk, the evening air thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and the distant sound of a laughing child playing in the nearby park. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks: this was it. This was her new life. No more sprawling suburban mansion with Justin's elastic headbands scattered on every surface possible, no more weekends spent hosting pool parties for their friends. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to spill over.

With a click to her remote control, the driver's side door of her sedan opened. Her hand trembled around the handle as she slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool against her skin. The door shut with a solid thunk, and she sat there, the sun beating down on the car through the window. Her eyes stunk, her breath hitched, and the tears she had been holding back for weeks finally fell.

Her chest heaved with the weight of her sobs, the keys still clutched in her hand, the metal digging into her palms. Her tears fell hot and thick on her cheeks, mixing with her makeup and leaving a salty taste on her lips. She didn't bother to wipe them away, letting them flow freely like the emotions that were tearing her apart. The dashboard of her car was the only witness to her pain, the only place she could let herself break down without fear of judgment or pity.

It was a painful, aching cry that seemed to come from the very marrow of her bones. The kind of cry that left her feeling both raw and exhausted. The kind of cry she hadn't had since her grandmother passed away. As her tears fell, she struggled to catch her breath, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a tight grip.

There was no relief in her sobs, no catharsis in the release of pent-up emotions. The reality of their impending breakup was sinking in, and she felt like she was drowning. She had never felt so alone. Despite the years they had spent together, it was as if she was just beginning to understand the depth of her sacrifice. She had been a silent cheerleader, a supportive girlfriend, but in the grand scheme of her life, she had willingly taken a back seat. And now, as she faced the prospect of starting over, she wondered if she was even making the right choice.

They had one wedding left. One last day to play the happy couple before they would finally, truly, be apart. In forty-eight short hours, the last ten years of her life would be over.

Yet, she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone.

The next wedding, a breezy ceremony down by the beach, was the last hurdle before their charade ended. The sun was warm on her skin as she stood in her bridesmaid's dress, a soft blush pink that matched the setting sun. A solid, white platform supported the couple and the wedding party as they exchanged vows, the ocean waves playing a soothing melody in the background.

Justin stood on the other side, his groomsmen's tuxedo fitting him like a glove, the light playing with the strands of his dirty blonde hair. It was a miracle he wasn't shifting uncomfortably in his suit, considering the heat of the late afternoon sun. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on the words of the bride and groom. The gel inserts in her heels were doing wonders for her soles, but she felt anything but grounded. She felt like she was floating, detached from her body, watching the scene unfold like a movie she was supposed to be experiencing first hand.

The ceremony seemed to fly by in a blur, and before she knew it, the officiant was prompting the bride and groom to repeat their vows. She glanced at Justin to find his eyes already focused on her. His hands were clasped tightly together, as if attempting to hold onto something unseen, his expression was one of quiet desperation. The love in his gaze was palpable, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to crumble on the spot.

"I, Alannah, take you, Tai, to be my lawfully wedded husband," the bride's sweet voice filled the air, and she felt the tension in her chest tighten.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part," the bride continued, her voice strong and clear.

Confident.

Sure.

She felt the words hit her like a wave. Tears pricked at her eyes, the very same affect reflected on Justin's face. She knew he was thinking about their own future, or lack thereof.

When the groom spoke up to echo the vows, Justin broke. He had to look away from her, his eyes stinging with a pool of tears. The weddings had been torturous, but none more so than this one. They had always talked about their future, what their wedding would be like, the vows they would write for each other. It was cruel irony that the final wedding of the season was their closest friend's, and they would have to stand there, just across from each other, and watch someone else live the fairy tale that should have been theirs. The fairy tale that once was so close that Justin had started brainstorming all the promises he'd make to her at the altar.

She watched as he tried his best to keep his composure, feeling the weight of his pain mirroring her own. The wedding was beautiful, filled with the kind of love and promise she had always hoped her own wedding would hold. Yet here they were, standing before their friends and family with the fractures of their relationship laid barely beneath the surface, ready to shatter at any moment.

She barely blinked before they were inside for the reception. The ballroom was a whirlwind of activity, with guests mingling and congratulating the newlyweds. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air, the kind of joy that made her heart feel both full and hollow at the same time. She found a seat at the bridesmaid's table and picked at her dinner, her appetite lost in the sea of emotions crashing against her.

Neither of them had looked at each other since the vow exchange, the weight of the words still heavy in the air. The reception was a blur of small talk and forced smiles. They danced with other people, their bodies moving through the motions while their hearts felt like they were stuck in quicksand. But as the night grew late and the party grew tired, the DJ announced the final slow dance.

The opening chords of the DJ's song of choice filled the reception hall, and she recognized it instantly.

If I go a million miles away

I'd write a letter, each and every day

Nothing Can Change This Love by Sam Cooke began to play. The slow, soulful melody drifting through the speakers like a ghost from their past. It was their song, the one they had heard in a movie and decided it was written for them, the one they had danced to in the kitchen when they were both miserably under the weather, the one they had talked about playing at their wedding. Her heart lurched as she felt a hand gently on her shoulder. She turned to find Justin's blue eyes filled with a silent plea.

"Dance with me?" he asked, his voice maybe the softest she'd ever heard it. His eyes searched hers, looking for something she wasn't sure she had the power to refuse.

She felt the air leave her lungs as she nodded. They took their places on the dance floor, their bodies close but not quite touching. The music swelled around them, a poignant reminder of their shared history. The dance floor was crowded with other couples, but she could only see him, feel him. His hand found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she laid her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Make me weep and you can make me cry

See me coming and you can pass me by

But honey, nothing, nothing, can ever change this love I have for you

Her body melted into Justin's embrace as they swayed to the rhythm, her hand resting on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, bringing a comfort she hadn't realized she missed so profoundly. His heart thudded beneath her ear, a reminder of the love they once shared, the love she was trying so hard to let go of. She could feel the dampness of his shirt where her tears had fallen, a silent confession of the pain she was in.

You're the apple of my eye

You're cherry pie

And oh, you're, you're cake and ice cream

You're sugar and spice, and everything nice

She could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest as he softly sung along to the lyrics, the words muffled and filled with a sadness she hadn't heard in his voice before. His hand slid up to the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes closed and she let herself lean into him, the fabric of their wedding party attire rustling as they danced. It was as if the world around them had disappeared, leaving only the two of them, their hearts beating in a silent admission of love and loss.

You're the girl of my, my, my, my, dreams

That had always been his favorite line of the song. She knew it well, had heard him whisper it into her ear countless times, had felt it in every kiss and caress. Now, it felt like a knife twisting in her chest. She didn't know if she could do this, didn't know if she could stand here and pretend like this dance didn't mean anything when every fiber of her being was begging her to stay, to forget the ache of her heart and the doubt in her mind.

But if you wanted to leave me and roam

When you got back, I'd just say 'welcome home'

'Cause honey, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change this love I have for you

She felt the warm, steady trickle of tears continue slip down her cheeks as she listened to the lyrics, feeling Justin's warmth and the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her through the dance. She could hear the way the lyrics caught in Justin's throat, the tremor of his voice as he sang along to the song, their song.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know that nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change the love I have for you

The last lines of the song left her lips, finishing off where Justin's voice had completely given out. They held each other tighter, the music now just background to their silent, desperate conversation of touch and regret. Her breath was ragged, her chest heaving with the sobs she'd been holding back for nearly two months.

Justin leaned down, his cheek against hers. He didn't say anything, just held her there, the two of them moving in unison to the music that had played so many times before in happier moments. She felt his breath against her skin, the warmth of his body surrounding her, and for a moment, she pretended they were in their kitchen again, just two teenagers lost in the music and perfectly content with their love alone.

But the moment was shattered when the song ended, the applause of the guests echoing through the ballroom. They separated slowly, awkwardly, like two magnets forced apart after years of clinging together. She could see the wetness in Justin's eyes, the unshed tears that mirrored her own. He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head, the words caught in her throat like shards of glass.

He nodded at that, releasing her hand to shove his own into his pockets. Then he turned on his heels and disappeared into the crowd. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She turned in the opposite direction, finding the bathroom to touch up her makeup before returning to the reception floor to enjoy the last few moments of mingling.

In the haze of her emotions, she had completely forgotten about the hotel room. Another room booked nearly a year in advance with a king-sized bed meant for two, for a couple that was no longer. As the reception wound down and the last of the guests bid their congratulations to the newlyweds, she found herself unable to move from the spot where she had been standing. The reality of the night ahead washed over her like a cold shower.

The silence in the car on the way to the hotel was oppressive, each mile feeling like a countdown to the end of an era. Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, avoiding the reflection of the city lights in the rearview mirror, which only served to remind her of the apartment she had just seen two days prior.

They managed to make it up to the room without a word, the weight of the evening pressing down on them like a heavy fog. Visibly, they both looked exhausted, drained from the weight of every emotion under the sun passing through them like conducted electricity. Once inside, she made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a soft click that echoed through the suite.

All she wanted was to get out of her dress, take a shower, and crawl into bed. But even in the solace of the bathroom, she couldn't escape the universe's inconvenient timing. The dress that was perfectly tailored to her measurements and had slipped on so easily early that day was now unfathomably difficult to remove. The metal zipper seemed to have a vendetta against her, sticking and snagging with each painful attempt to pull it down. The shake in her hands and the tears welling in her eyes didn't help the process. It was as if the dress had become a metaphor for their relationship - something that once fit so snugly now felt suffocatingly tight.

She wasn't sure how long she had been fighting with the zipper when Justin's voice called out softly, "Hey, do you need help?" His words pierced through the silence. He was close, just beyond the door as if he had heard her frustration and come running. She took a moment to compose herself before responding, "Please." The door creaked open, and he stepped in, his eyes avoiding hers in the mirror. Gently, he took over, his strong hands making quick work of the stubborn zipper. The dress slid down her body, revealing her bare back to the cool air. She stepped out of the dress, the fabric pooling at her feet.

She sniffled, failing to maintain her composure as she wrapped her arms around herself. Justin took in the sight of her, his heart clenching. He had seen her in various states of undress over the years, but this moment was different. This was not intimate, but a silent understanding that this could the last time he'd ever see her like this. Vulnerable, near naked, and so utterly beautiful.

"Hey, talk to me," Justin whispered, reaching for a white robe to hand her. The fabric was soft, the hotel's emblem embroidered neatly on the chest. She took the robe, her trembling hands proving useless in the task of tying it. Justin stepped in, his hands deftly wrapping the material around her, his touch gentle and tender.

She turned to face him, her eyes swimming in unshed tears. "I can't," she whispered back, her voice cracking.

Justin took a deep breath, his own eyes glistening with the same pain. "Can't what, baby?" He stepped closer, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"I can't talk to you," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's too hard. Seeing you, touching you, it's too much." She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay strong. "I'm not ready to let you go, but I feel like I have to."

If Justin could fall to his knees and thank whatever deity had brought him to this moment, he would. Instead, he swallowed his pride and fear, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He could feel her body tremble against his own, and for a moment, everything was right in the world. "You don't have to," he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "We don't have to do this. I don't want to do this."

'Want'. His conversation with Brandon echoed through his mind. He could practically hear him say, 'What do you want, Justin?' The answer had always been relatively simple. But now, it couldn't be more simple. He wanted her. The woman who had been his everything for a decade. The woman whose hand he had held through countless highs and lows, whose smile had been the brightest spot in his darkest moments.

"But we—" she started, only to be cut off by Justin who shook his head.

"No," Justin said firmly, pulling away to look at her. "We don't have to do anything we're not ready for. I know we said we'd go through with this, but I can't lose you." His eyes searched hers, looking for a glimmer of hope. "I don't want us to go on a break or break up. Not because it would be inconvenient or… or because I'm comfortable. I don't want to lose you because you're the only woman I've ever loved."

She looked up at him, the robe feeling like it was made of lead on her shoulders.

"Every time I've told you I love you, I meant it," Justin continued, his voice shaking. "I can't imagine how much it must hurt you to think that I don't mean that wholeheartedly. I know I've dropped the ball; I know I haven't been there for you like I should have been. But, baby, I want to be. I need to be."

She felt her resolve slipping. "Justin, you're going to be okay," she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. "You're a catch. You're going to find someone who'll love you for you."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. "But I don't want anyone else. I want you. Only you." His hand reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of feeling through her body that she hadn't felt in so long. "You said that you thought we didn't experience enough of the world to know that this is it for us," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Well, I'm telling you now, I don't need to. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I will do whatever it takes to make this work. To make you happy."

She exhaled but didn't speak, allowing him a chance to finally fight for her. "I can't let you walk away from me without telling you that I've spent the last ten years of my life in awe of the woman you've become," Justin whispered, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I want to wake up to your smile, watch you conquer the world, and be the shoulder you lean on. I've made mistakes, I know, but I want to learn from them, and I'll keep learning. For you, I'll do whatever it takes."

"But, you could make another woman so happy," she replied, her voice cracking with the weight of her words.

"I don't want to make another woman happy. All I've ever wanted is to make you happy," Justin said. It was his turn for his voice to crack with emotion. "If you want us to start over, relearn each other, explore who we are now, I'll do it." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will relearn everything about you, no matter how long it takes, because my favorite part of living this life is living it with you. I don't know how I'm supposed to let you walk when you're everything I need. You're all I've dreamed about and everything I've planned for."

He reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "I love you. And I'm not willing to let go." His voice was a gentle plea, the desperation in his eyes mirroring the tumult in her heart. "Give me a chance to make it up to you," he whispered, his thumb brushing away another tear. "Give us a chance. Please."

Her breath caught in her throat, the words she had so desperately needed to hear echoing in her ears. The love she had pushed aside in her quest for self-discovery rushed back to the forefront, threatening to drown her in its intensity. She searched his eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity, but all she found was raw, unencumbered love.

All she could do was nod, the dam of her emotions giving way. Justin's eyes searched hers, hopeful and desperate. "We can work on us," he murmured. "We can grow together, support each other's dreams, and build the life we've talked about for so long." He paused, his heart racing. "Just please say yes."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears as she whispered, "Yes." It was the softest, most hopeful sound she had made in weeks. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. The relief that flooded through him was palpable, radiating off of his skin, his embrace tightening around her. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent as if it was the sweetest perfume in the world.

#&. cassie writes.#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert x black!reader #justin herbert angst #justin herbert fluff

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joeyfranchise · 7 months ago

Text

all tangled up in the moon

justin herbert x fem!reader

summary: you finally began feeling open to dating in your new home of sunny la, especially since your best friend didn’t love you back the way you loved him… unless he did? a telling double date begins unraveling feelings that you didn’t know were shared…

warnings: pining/mutual pining. expressions of feelings. a LOT of fluff. explicit sexual content, MDNI. 18+ only.

word count: 6.3k.

note: my first ever justin fic!! based on so many ideas from my bestie @joeyburrrow, also happy belated birthday btw 🫂 i’m sorry i didn’t get it posted yesterday! but, she and i have talked about so much of this and this fic truly is for her. ALSO— FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS FIC ONLY— i made justin allergic to walnuts. idk if he is or not, but it’ll make sense when you get there. i hope you like this. love you all. 💗

the dating pool in los angeles was nothing short of horrible.

sure, there were tons of people, which meant tons of options… but that also lead to some problems. there was so much diversity around, which again, is great… but it often led to mismatched partners and having trouble finding someone with all of the same interests or morals or values as you.

that being said, while messing around on dating apps, you found yourself a date that ticked more of your boxes than anyone else had since you moved to the sunny city.

his name was damon, and he worked at a law firm that wasn’t too far from your own nine-to-five job. his profile said he was 6’2, in his pictures he displayed a beautiful smile, and his interests were similar enough to yours that you figured why not give it a chance?

when you swiped right he’d messaged you nearly immediately, which could’ve been a red flag, but he kept it sweet and professional. his personality shined through his messages and you found yourself genuinely laughing at some of his jokes, and that was always a good sign.

you ran into one little problem though. you didn’t really know anyone else in l.a. except for your best friend, therefore you didn’t have many people to trust. sure, you had coworkers and acquaintances in the office, but none of them were around you enough to be able to vet through suitors from your dating life to let you know who would work and who wouldn’t.

you were also afraid to go out with someone new alone, and you blamed that on being an introvert. you ultimately made the decision that either damon would have to be okay with your first date being a double date, or you just wouldn’t go. when damon agreed it was fine, you called justin worriedly - this was going to be the hard part.

he picked up after two rings.

“is this the krusty krab?” you asked teasingly, smiling as you heard him huff out a brief laugh. he lowered his voice before answering.

“no, this is patrick.”

“yeah, justin patrick,” you teased, “unless i called the wrong brother.” you chewed on your bottom lip as you heard him chuckle again.

“that’s my name! don’t wear it out.” he joked. you could practically see the dumb grin already etched across his face. you remained silent for a moment, the weight of the question weighing on you. when you didn’t respond, justin took the lead of the conversation again.

“hey, y/n? you okay? not that i mind you calling me, of course i don’t mind… but did you need something? is everything alright?” you appreciated his ability to talk you down in moments like this, it was like he could sense your nerves even from miles away, and over a phone call.

“i’m okay. but i have a tiny favor to ask. you know you’re my most favorite best friend in the wholeee world, right?” you laughed, trying to push past the anxiety of the question you needed to ask him. “i do. what’s the favor?”

“i have a date friday night and i’ve never met him before. i didn’t know anyone else to ask and.. i was hoping maybe you and chloe could come along? like a double date?”

justin and chloe had started seeing each other recently, and you liked her enough not to really worry about their relationship. sure, she was living your dream being with justin, but you practically knew he didn’t feel the same about you. while you were completely and utterly in love with him, he still saw you as his best friend, and you had learned to accept it.

when you first met chloe you knew she wasn’t his type, she was completely different from justin… but he seemed happy, and that’s all you ever wanted for him. she was excited to meet you too, and in the few times you’d seen her since she was always genuine and kind.

“i think we can make that work, i should be out of practice in time. i’ll let chloe know and then we can figure out where to go. there’s a new restaurant downtown she and i went to a few weeks ago, you’d love it. they have really good raspberry cheesecake!” he said.

“oooh my favorite!” you cheered, already daydreaming of the delicious confection.

“i know.” he agreed. you smiled on the other end of the line, the way he knew you from cover to cover made your heart ache. you only hoped damon - and if not him, then whoever was destined for you - could be such a wonderful lover to you. someone who truly cared to learn everything there was to know about you, just like you and justin did with each other, even if only as friends.

you and justin talked for a bit longer over menial things before you ended the call, bidding him a goodnight. you made sure to text damon about your plans, letting him know you’d get back to him about a time as soon as you could.

he was excited for your date, and also excited to meet justin. you learned damon was a big fan of sports, and even though he wasn’t a chargers fan, he still really liked justin and thought he was a great player. he didn’t believe you when you first told him justin was your best friend, you had to provide him with photo evidence. the whole ordeal made you laugh. after chatting briefly with damon you put your phone on your bedside table before rolling over and getting cozy under your blankets.

you went to bed with a smile on your face that night, excited for your date with damon and also excited for him to meet your best friend.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you sailed through the week on a high, and when friday night came you were still feeling ecstatic. you were still a little anxious about going out and meeting damon in person for the first time, but getting to know him through the week had helped you warm up a little and let your guard down.

you decided on wearing a simple black dress, classy yet not too-fancy. you curled your hair and applied a light layer of makeup before slipping on a pair of strappy black heels.

you planned on meeting justin and chloe at the restaurant at seven, giving everyone enough time to get ready and allowing justin to shower and freshen up after practice.

damon picked you up at six-thirty. he met you at your door with flowers which you graciously accepted, and you excused yourself to bring them inside and put them in water before locking up and going with damon to his car.

he opened your door for you and you slid in, buckling your seatbelt as you waited for him to get in and start the engine. it was a bit chilly out and you were grateful when damon turned up the heat before backing out of your driveway and heading to the restaurant.

you chatted with him on the drive and it was pretty pleasant, you were thankful that the conversation between you both flowed easily. you learned that his favorite football team was the los angeles rams, and you joked with him that he’d need to let you out of the car immediately because you wouldn’t stand for that nonsense.

he laughed heartily at your joke. he talked to you more about his job, you learned he was a paralegal and that he’d been in the profession for nearly four years. you told him about your experience working in human resources and you related over shared experiences.

when you arrived to the restaurant damon parked and came around to open your door, and you were quickly met by justin and chloe. damon and justin shook hands and introduced themselves to each other as you greeted chloe.

“i love your dress!” she smiled, you thanked her. “you look incredible too, chloe!”

she wore a light blue dress that came down mid-thigh and had long sleeves. she wore black heels as well, and you loved the glittery eyeshadow she had put on.

the four of you walked into the restaurant and justin spoke to the host about reservations he had so graciously called in - which you thanked him immensely for. the host led your party to a table toward the back of the restaurant and you all sat. damon made sure to pull out your chair, and justin did the same for chloe.

the waitress came by shortly after for your drink orders, you and justin both got water. chloe ordered a riesling and damon ordered a cabernet, which you found amusing. you didn’t say anything about it, though.

the waitress brought your drinks quickly and she also brought a basket of bread for the table, with little cups of cinnamon butter. you indulged in one as you listened to justin and damon begin chatting about football.

you and chloe began to chime in at times, and the atmosphere was nice. you and damon also engaged in your own quiet conversation every now and then, and you were starting to like it every time he’d flash you his award winning smile… until justin would smile at you from across the table. in those moments, you knew who your heart truly belonged to.

a few times during dinner the conversations would ebb off, or the input from chloe and damon would stop, leaving only you and justin talking to each other.

the waitress brought your food and you all began dining, while still chatting here and there about work and sports and things of that nature. the waitress came back around a bit later to take plates and your dessert orders. the men continued to talk while you and chloe ordered, with you asking for cheesecake and chloe ordering a fudgy brownie.

something damon said reminded justin of something he needed to tell you, and he turned his attention toward you quickly.

“y/n, i was meaning to tell you that my uncle had some students interested in trying to make a car run on vegetable oil.” you laughed at his statement before giving your input.

“so what, they want to install a second fuel tank i’m assuming? so the vehicle can run on diesel til it’s hot enough and then they’ll switch to the oil?” you ask. “yeah exactly. i thought it sounded pretty cool.” justin smiles. “sounds like a waste of time to me.” you say amusedly. justin tilts his head and gives you a questioning glance.

“it’s totally not a waste of time. if they can figure out how to do it, it’ll be pretty sick.” he disagrees. damon glances between you before chiming in. “i think it’d be pretty cool too!” he agrees with justin.

“do you know how many times they’d have to filter the oil before they could even use it? and they’d have to make sure to install a solenoid valve to switch between two fuel tanks. too much work.” you say, crossing your arms and looking back and forth between both men. chloe says nothing, you assume she has no idea what any of you are talking about.

you noticed damon checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and rejoining your conversation, but mostly listening to you and justin bicker.

“it totally reminded me of that 70s show though, you know? when hyde says ‘there’s this car…. and it runs on water, man!’” justin laughs, doing a pretty decent impression of the character.

“i just feel like making modifications to your car so it could run off vegetable oil is a waste of time.” you say, leaning back slightly in your chair. justin’s girlfriend looks between the two of you with an odd look on her face, only breaking focus when she sees the waitress approaching again.

“here’s the double chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream,” she says, placing the plate in front of chloe, “and here are the slices of raspberry cheesecake.”

she places the plate in front of you and damon is quick to grab it, sliding his piece of cheesecake onto one of the extra serving plates. chloe picks her fork up excitedly, slicing into the brownie and taking a small bite. her eyes roll as she tastes it, the richness of the chocolate has to be delectable. you watch as she cuts another small bite, this time more toward the center of the brownie where you can see it has small pieces of walnut in it.

she reaches over to cup justin’s jaw, squeezing a bit to get him to open his mouth so she can feed it to him. you ignore the slightly jealous feeling bubbling in your stomach as she brings it closer to his mouth, but you can’t get your words out. justin looks at her with a puzzled expression. he hadn’t been paying attention to her or what she ordered, so he has no idea what she’s about to feed him.

as if on instinct, your hand shot across the table and closed around her wrist, stopping her from feeding him. “s-sorry.. uh, justin is allergic to walnuts.” you say, lowering your gaze so you don’t make eye contact with her. she lets go of his jaw and he shrugs sheepishly.

“sorry baby.” she tells him, eating the bite for herself. “it’s okay.” justin replies. his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, nervous energy is shared between you. damon watches the entire ordeal silently, passing glances between the three of you as he eats his dessert.

you pick up your fork and take a bite too, and the tartness of the raspberry dances across your tongue in a pleasant way. justin was right with his recommendation, this restaurant truly is amazing. damon and justin begin conversing again, and you stay quiet as you eat, listening attentively.

chloe chimes in a few times, earning laughs from both men with her unintentional humor. you slide the last bite of cheesecake on your fork and bring it to your lips, ready to enjoy it, when suddenly your fork is plucked from your hand. you look up to find justin eating the last bite straight off of your fork. yours.

while you’re on a double date. with other people.

your gaze quickly flips from justin to chloe and then to damon as you try to gauge their expressions. damon doesn’t seem to notice or care as he continues talking about football, and justin nods along with what damon is saying as if this ordeal was the most normal thing that has ever happened.

sure, you and justin are close enough to eat off each others forks and sometimes even drink from the same cup or can, but the fact that he did it on a double date baffled you. neither of the men at the table seemed to be giving it a second thought, but when your gaze shifts to chloe you can tell she’s perturbed in some way. her eyes are slightly squinted as she looks you up and and down, and then her gaze shifts to justin as she does the same to him.

you continue to sit quietly at the table, listening to the men talk. chloe stays quiet, too. the tension between the two of you feels almost palpable.

you would never want to come between her and justin, even if you did have feelings for him throughout all these years.

the rest of the time spent in the restaurant went by in a blur. eventually damon and justin stopped talking, realizing that you and chloe hadn’t shared a word, and they mutually decided that dinner should be over.

damon and justin split the checks and pay before each of you stand from the table to leave. when you make it outside you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, you’ve felt like you were suffocating for the last fifteen minutes. all of you say goodbye to each other before you get into damon’s car, and chloe into justin’s.

the drive back to your house is quiet. you’re anxious, your throat feels tight and you know your cheeks must be incredibly pink. damon hasn’t even glanced at you and you’re afraid to say a word because if you do you’ll start crying.

he finally pulls into your drive and parks the car before looking at you for the first time since you left the restaurant. you wring your hands together before looking back at him, expecting the worst.

“that was fun, justin is a really nice guy.” his voice is genuine as he speaks to you, but you’re prepared for where this is going. “he loves you, y/n.”

you look at him with bewilderment as he continues speaking. you want to say something, but he holds up a finger to tell you to wait. “before you start with the whole ‘he doesn’t feel that way about me’ spiel, he does. i saw how you looked at each other all night. he doesn’t look at her like that.”

tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes as he speaks, and you turn your gaze from his so he won’t see. “you love each other, y/n. it’s okay. i had fun, i’m glad i met you.” he says, reaching over the console to grab your hand. he gives it a gentle squeeze and you look back up at him as he smiles at you. “i would like to be your friend, if that’s okay.”

“yeah, we can stay friends, of course.” you tell him. he lets go of your hand and gets out of the car, circling around to get your door and walk you up the front steps. before you can walk up damon pulls you in for a hug, which you reluctantly accept.

“it was nice meeting and going out with you, y/n. don’t be a stranger!” he says, and then he lets you go and gets back into his car, driving off down the street.

you let yourself in the house and lock the door behind you before collapsing on the couch. you don’t have the energy to move, to take off your shoes, or to even be worried about your makeup.

you just sit there, and you cry. you cry for all the lost time, if it is true and he does love you. and if damon’s wrong, and you do take the time to tell justin how you feel and he rejects you… well, you should go ahead and cry for that too. you cry for the only boy you’ve ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

justin buckles his seatbelt and holds his foot down on the brake before backing out of his parking spot at the restaurant, ready to get home and into more comfortable clothing. chloe sits beside him silent, like she did for most of the dinner.

he spares a glance her way and notices her posture is rigid, her lips are pressed into a tight, thin line. justin reaches over to grasp her hand but she flinches away from his touch.

“are you okay?” he asks her, his tone concerned. “i’m okay. can you take me to my house, please?” she asks. her voice sounds small, she sounds upset.

“of course.” justin agrees. they hadn’t been dating long enough to make the steps to move in together, but chloe frequented his house often as long as he was home. he thought it was a bit strange that she wanted to go home, but he waited to question it.

when he pulled in her driveway and parked she was quick to jump out of the car and make her way inside. justin turned the car off and pocketed the keys before following chloe inside.

“um, is everything okay?” he asked, stepping into the living room. “no. we need to talk.” chloe said, sitting down on the couch. justin sat next to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee as he waited for her to speak.

“i think we should break up.”

justin is taken aback by her confession, but he doesn’t speak. he waits to hear her out. “i really like you, justin. and i think you like me. but you don’t love me. and you never will, because you love someone else.”

“what?” he asks, his tone incredulous. “you love y/n, justin. you know it, i know it, everyone on the planet knows it… except for her. i think you’re both idiots.” chloe smiles softly.

justin looks around the room nervously, waiting for chloe to speak again. “you’re both idiots because what you’ve been looking for has been in front of you the whole time. it was obvious you two should have been on a date. you both carried the conversation, you were doing silly impressions to make her laugh… you look at her like she’s your most prized possession, justin.”

he takes a deep breath before looking at chloe and finally speaking. “i’m sorry.” is all he’s able to mutter out.

“you don’t need to apologize. i’ll admit, i was upset at first. but on the drive i thought about it, and i just want you to be happy. and i figured someone needed to tell you that girl loves you, because if the two of you have been friends this long and you haven’t figured it out, i’m afraid you never will.” she laughs. “and god, i didn’t even know you were allergic to walnuts.”

justin laughs too before reaching over and pulling chloe into him for a hug. “thank you for telling me all that… and i am sorry. i really am.”

“it’s okay, justin. just get the girl, okay?” she says, shooing him out the door. he waves goodbye before walking off to his car and heading home.

when he arrives home he sits in the driveway pondering… did you really love him back? and if you have, how long? and what was he going to do?

he thinks of all the time he’s lost out on if it’s true, and you do love him back. he’d supressed the feelings for as long as he could remember because he never knew he had a chance - he never thought he’d be the one for you. and if he wasn’t he knew it’d break him, but all he wanted was your happiness.

all he knew right now was that he loved you, that you were the only girl he’d ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you don’t talk to justin for a week.

you’re afraid to. usually, he’s the first person you run to about anything, but since the subject matter is him, you feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. you spend the entire week sad, crying into your coffee or whatever dinner you’ve chosen to eat after work (usually cereal), and watching lifetime movies that are guaranteed to make you feel worse - they make the longing in your chest burn.

justin finally texts you on friday night, and you’re afraid to open it. you let it sit unread for half an hour before your phone starts ringing on the end table. it’s justin, you know it is, but you’re afraid to answer. you pick up your phone slowly and slide your thumb across the screen to answer the call.

“hello?” you sniffle, picking up a tissue to wipe your nose. “hey y/n, you okay?” justin asks.

“yeah, lifetime movie, sorry. what’s up?”

“just wanted to see if you wanna come over and hangout? i haven’t heard from you all week, i miss you.” he says. you miss him too. but are you ready to see him after what happened?

against your better judgment, you agree to go over. after all, he is your best friend. if anyone can get you feeling better, it’s justin. you hang up the call and slide on your slippers before grabbing your keys and phone and heading over to his house.

you didn’t bother changing, you didn’t care what you looked like in front of him. he’d seen you sick as a dog before, he even held your hair when you puked a few times, so he could handle seeing you in an old ratty tshirt and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big.

there’s also no way he could ever judge you for having greasy hair.

you make the quick drive to his place and you almost panic and leave before calming yourself down and walking to the front door. it’s just justin. this is no big deal.

you knock twice but you know he already knows you’re there, and he swings the door open quickly before pulling you into a tight hug. physical affection is something you both enjoy, and you’ve missed him. you wrap your arms tightly around him and squeeze back.

justin laughs as he looks down at you. “sometimes i forget how small you are.”

“or maybe you’re sasquatch.” you say, giving him a shove. he lets go and steps aside so you can get in the door, and you waste no time in sliding your slippers off plopping down on his couch. you notice his house seems a little… different, but you can’t put your finger on it.

justin closes the door and makes his way over to you, acting like he’s going to sit on your lap. “don’t even think about it.” you tell him, bringing your legs up to your chest. he sits next to you and leans into your side.

“how was your week?” he asks you innocently. “it was horrible.” you reply. you share the most miniscule details with him when he tries pressing you further, because you’re too afraid to tell him what’s really wrong. justin listens intently either way, hoping to find something he can do to make you feel better.

“well how’s it been with damon?” he finally asks, and you freeze. justin moves so he can lay his head on your lap, and he straightens out your legs before doing so. your hand naturally finds its way into his hair, your nails raking along his scalp soothingly. he shudders.

“damon um… well. he didn’t wanna go on another date. it wasn’t because he didn’t like me, though. he just said… he could tell u didn’t like him.”

justin hums softly. “interesting.” he says.

“what’s interesting?” you ask him. “chloe broke up with me.”

“WHAT?” you shout, startling him a bit. “sorry… i mean, what? why? i thought you guys really liked each other?”

“well, she liked me a lot. and i liked her but… i don’t love her. she really helped me realize a lot of feelings i had that i’d been holding back.” he turns his head to look up at you and smiles and - oh. oh.

the look he’s giving you seems to be full of pure adoration, pure love. and you realize that he always looks at you like this.

tears start to form in your eyes again and justin sits up, this time pulling you into his lap. “you okay?” he asks, soothingly rubbing his hand over your back.

that’s why it seemed different - all her stuff was gone.

“i don’t know. what’s happening here?” you ask him, burying your face in his neck. “chloe helped me realize that i love you, y/n. i always knew it, deep down. but… i don’t know. i never really thought you felt the same.”

“damon said the same to me. that he could, um, tell we loved each other. are we just stupid?” you ask him, pulling away from his neck to look in his eyes.

“apparently two idiots in love.” he says. his hand finds the back of your hair and smooths over it softly before he pulls you into his neck again, crushing you in another hug.

“so where do we go from here?” you ask, enjoying his embrace. “i guess forward.” he jokes, poking at your sides. “together, of course, if you want that. as a couple.”

you can’t help the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you as he speaks. of course you want that, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “i love you, justin.” you finally say, and being able to tell him to his face is like a dream come true. “i love you back.” he says softly. you meet his gaze once again and he looks nervous, but you aren’t sure why.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him sweetly. you softly touch his cheek, smoothing over it with your thumb. he doesn’t say another word, but he leans in and kisses you.

you feel dizzy, your heart is pounding incredibly hard against your chest. justin is over the moon too. your lips begin moving in sync, neither of you able to catch a decent breath as you devour each other hungrily. justin's hands find your waist and he pulls you into him further, and your arms circle around his neck.

he pulls away for a second before jumping right back in, awkwardly bumping his nose against yours. you both laugh before kissing again. this is truly what euphoria feels like. you don’t know how long you both sit there taking each other apart, whether it’s minutes, hours or days.

what matters is it’s happening. finally.

your hands trail down his biceps as he continues kissing you, leaving a trail from the corner of your mouth down to the exposed column of your throat. your breath hitches when his lips meet one of your most sensitive spots, right where your neck meets your shoulder. “you okay?” he says, sounding concerned.

“i’m nervous.” you whisper. his gaze is soft as he looks at you, half smile spreading across his face. “it’s okay,” he whispers back, “we don’t have to take this any further until you’re ready.”

you hug him again and kiss his cheek softly. “i want to. i’m just nervous.”

“there’s no reason to be afraid.” he assures you. “do you wanna…” he starts, cocking his head to the side and motioning toward the direction of his bedroom. you nod a simple yes.

he stands with you and leads you down the hall to his room, although you know very well where it is. you’ve spent countless nights here cuddled up with him.

he twists the knob slowly and pushes the door open before guiding you inside, and meeting your lips with his again. the kiss is soft and gentle, and he walks you back toward his bed without breaking contact. once you’ve reached the side of the bed he pulls away and reaches behind himself with one arm, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head in one swift motion.

uou hop up onto his bed and get cozy against the pillows as he crawls onto the bed too, leaning over you. you rake your nails over the planes of his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead. his fingertips find the hem of your sweater and his gaze meets yours, waiting for your approval. you nod, and he slides both hands under it before lifting it over your head.

you’re wearing a simple white bra, but justin is looking at you like you’ve just descended down from heaven. you know he won’t ask you to take it off so you let what little bit of confidence you have flowing through your veins take over, and you quickly reach behind you to unclasp it.

justin sucks in a deep breath at the sight of you. you’re easily the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen in his life, you have been since he first laid eyes on you… but seeing you like this… he feels like he’s died and made it to the afterlife.

you don’t hide your gawking either, his toned body has always been something you’ve enjoyed staring at whether he noticed it or not. “you’re so beautiful,” justin tells you, leaning in to capture your lips again. as he crawls over your body you can feel his length through his sweatpants, it lays hard and heavy over your leg. you shudder at the thought of it.

justin’s hands slide up your torso and he caresses your breasts softly before tweaking both of your nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. you arch upward into him and your body is covered in gooseflesh as you await his touch again.

you’ve never felt such pleasure and satisfaction in your life, and he’s only barely started. you’re sure that you’ve soaked through your panties and sweatpants at this point. he continues to grab at your chest as he kisses you and you moan out his name softly, causing him to rut against your leg. he needs you just as much as you need him, you can tell.

“justin, i’m ready. i want you.” you tell him, breaking away from his kiss to look into his eyes. he smiles down at you and raises his eyebrow, making sure one more time. “i’m ready.” you promise him. his hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants before pulling them down your legs quickly, along with your panties.

he pulls his off next and your mouth falls open, gawking at the sight in front of you. sure… justin was 6’6, everything about him was big… but holy shit. he is huge.

he smiles at you nervously before reassuring you, “it’ll be okay, i won’t hurt you. i swear.” you almost think you could faint at how cute and sexy he his. you tell him you don’t need any prep but he won’t allow it, and he uses the pad of his thumb to circle your clit quickly as he enters two fingers into you to work you open.

after a few minutes you’re ready, you can’t take anymore and you’re practically begging him to fuck you. he blushes at the sound of your moans, but his chest fills with pride knowing he’s making you feel so good. he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat slowly before wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes. you let him situate your body how he needs to and he ends up with your ankles right at his shoulders as he prepares to push into you.

he’s lucky you’re flexible. his lips find yours again as he pushes in and your thankful because his kisses swallow your gasps. he moves slowly, inch by inch until he’s fully seated, and he waits a few minutes before moving so he doesn’t hurt you. when he finally pulls out and pushes back in, he moans loudly at how amazing you feel around him. you moan too, you’ve never felt so full in your life - and you’ve never felt so fulfilled either.

he moves to kiss you again and bumps his nose against yours again sweetly as his hands find yours and he tangles your fingers together. his movements are calculated, slow and methodical as he takes you apart, and unravels you in the very best way.

the room is filled with soft moans and labored breaths and the sounds of you kissing each other anywhere your lips can find. it doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak and tears prick at your eyes when you do. this is all you’ve ever wanted, and it’s beautiful, it’s magical. justin feels the same.

you warn him that you’re close and he tells you it’s okay, you can let go for him. “cum for me, it’s okay. i love you, y/n.” and that’s all it takes. his admission of love knocks you straight over the edge and into the thrashing waters, your orgasm taking over your whole body. he cums soon after, his body enjoying the feeling of you squeezing him as he rides out his high.

when he pulls out of you he stand quickly, running off to his bathroom to grab a warm wet towel to clean you both up. he didn’t bother asking if you were on the pill, he already knows every aspect of your life anyway.

justin cleans all your sensitive areas with the warm rag before wiping himself off and sliding back into bed with you, pulling the covers over your bodies.

“that was amazing.” you admit.

“yeah it was. you know how long we could’ve been doing that?” he laughs, and you giggle too. “i love you.” you tell him. “i love you too, so much. can i tell you something stupidly embarrassing, though?” he asks, and you roll over to face him. “oh god, what justin?”

“remember after we graduated, right after you turned eighteen and we had that pool party?”

“yeah, i remember.” you say. it was one of your fondest memories, actually. “that little yellow bikini you wore… i just thought i should admit to you now that i thought about you in that so much when i was jerking it that i thought my dick would fall off.”

both of you erupt in laughter, the admission funny and embarrassing, although endearing too. “that’s okay, remember right before we went to college and you were teaching me how to drive but you kept getting frustrated and yelling at me? i thought that was the hottest i’d ever seen you.” you say. he pulls you into his chest and kisses you softly.

“you’re getting me all worked up again, baby,” he laughs, kissing at your cheek toward your ear. “looks like we’re gonna have to go for round two.”

- - -

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