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ofbreathandflame-archive · 4 months

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This is a very long post!

These last couple of months, it’s been interesting to talk about Nesta as a character and how her subsequent characterization is so integral to pointing out the problems in the series. Whether or not you view Nesta to be ‘real’ or ‘good’ character is one thing, and often subjective. Our own personal backgrounds may muddle or influence whether we like these characters or not.

The reason why I think Nesta is an interesting character is because of how she kind of…ruins the story, or the illusion of a story we are given. There are many times in the story where I think SJM could have elaborated on the qualities that she gushes about, but she intentionally chooses not to. For example, if SJM kept Rhysand consistent, I could see him disliking Nesta and wanting to actually hurt her, but have him think about Feyre and her wants and ultimately relent to Feyre’s want. One thing about Tamlin’s abuse that I think was done well was the fact that he genuinely seems broken up by the fact he can’t control his anger, and he feels something akin to guilt, but he doesn’t stop the abuse. It highlights the effect of the victim, not the intention of the abuser. I don’t know if it was intentionally done, but I liked that element of his abuse. I also liked that the dangers that Tamlin are worried about are real – the threat is real. Why? Because I think it proves, to some extent, that we should not justify abuse, even if the abuse seems rational. It proves that in this world, these men should still adhere to the fact of self-control. How can Feyre in a relationship with Tamlin if he can’t regulate his emotions around her?

But then the story does something weird – it embodies Rhysand with these very same qualities. It also recreates Tamlin’s abuse of Feyre with…Nesta – and then justifies it. Nesta arrives in a similar position as Feyre, yet the story goes to great lengths to vilify her for not reaching out; this is a far-cry from how the story (and stans) think about Feyre. (paint scene, fire scene, solstice scene, and hiking scene). We're supposed to sympathize with the decisions being made; so much rides on the fact that the IC are doing this out of the kindness of their heart:

Did Nesta notice the faint glimmer of worry in Amren’s smoky eyes—understand how rare it was? More than that, did Nesta understand that this meeting wasn’t to condemn her, but instead came from a place of concern? Her simmering stare told him she considered this purely an attack.

We're supposed to think about the worry of the Inner Circle and not think about the way they've decided to express their worry. Its similar to this scene that we get with Lucien to Feyre about Tamlin:

“I’ve given him time,” I said. “I can’t stay cooped up in the house forever.” “He knows that—he doesn’t say it, but he knows it. Trust me. You will forgive him if his family’s own slaughter keeps him from being so … liberal with your safety. He’s lost those he cares for too many times. We all have.” Every word was like fuel added to the simmering pit in my gut. “I don’t want to marry a High Lord. I just want to marry him.”“One doesn’t exist without the other. He is what he is. He will always, always seek to protect you, whether you like it or not. Talk to him about it—really talk to him, Feyre. You’ll figure it out.” Our gazes met. A muscle feathered in Lucien’s jaw. “Don’t ask me to pick.” “But you’re deliberately not telling me things.” “He is my High Lord. His word is law. We have this one chance, Feyre, to rebuild and make the world as it should be. I will not begin that new world by breaking his trust. Even if you …”

Lucien is continually asking Feyre to place Tamlin over her own happiness; he is asking her to consider his feelings before she considers his own - partially because this is the way Lucien is characterized to handle Tamlin's abuse himself. Cassian is asking Nesta to consider the Inner Circle's intention over how she feels. Amren and Rhys immediately shame and threaten Nesta - she is valid in her anger. She has interpreted this meeting as an attack...because it was. I think its especially telling that the later scene is asking Nesta to have empathy for Amren who is arguably the most abusive, abrasive, and unproductive person in that entire meeting. The second part of Lucien's monologue end's up being true for Nesta as the Inner Circle end up doing the same thing to control Nesta's behavior -- whether that be by leveraging Elain, outright forcing her, or even the decision to withhold Nesta's power from her -- these echo the exact same plot points we see in MAF with Feyre.

Let’s compare some scenes:

It was worse than a crown, actually. Built into the box were compartments and sleeves and holders, all full of brushes and paints and charcoal and sheets of paper. A traveling painting kit. Red—the red paint inside the glass vial was so bright, the blue as stunning as the eyes of that faerie woman I’d slaughtered— “I thought you might want it to take around the grounds with you. Rather than lug all those bags like you always do.” The brushes were fresh, gleaming—the bristles soft and clean. Looking at that box, at what was inside, felt like examining a crow-picked corpse. I tried to smile. Tried to will some brightness to my eyes. He said, “You don’t like it.” (MAF: Chapter 9)

“You’re going, even if you have to be tied up and hauled there. You will follow Cassian’s lessons, and you will do whatever work Clotho requires in the library.” Nesta blocked out the memory—of the dark depths of that library, the ancient monster that had dwelled there. It had saved them from Hybern’s cronies, yes, but … She refused to think of it. “You will respect her, and the other priestesses in the library,” Feyre said, “and you will never give them a moment’s trouble. Any free time is yours to spend as you wish. In the House.” Hot rage pumped through her, so loud Nesta could barely hear the real fire before which her sister paced. Was glad of the roaring in her head when the sound of wood cracking as it burned was so much like her father’s breaking neck that she couldn’t stand to light a fire in her own home. “You had no right to close up my apartment, to take my things—” (Silver Flames; Chapter 2)

She could barely stand to hear the crack and pop of the wood. Had barely been able to endure it in Feyre’s town house. Snap; crunch. (FAS: Chapter 21)

"He had Enough of the coldness, the sharpness. Enough of the sword-straight spine and razor-sharp stare that had only honed itself these months"

He understood. He really did. It had taken him months—years—after his first battles to readjust. To cope. Hell, he was still reeling from what had happened in that final battle with Hybern, too

Another grin as he lifted the small, wrapped parcel. “Your Solstice present.” “I don’t want one (FAS)

“Nesta forged a new Trove,” Cassian said, reining in his rage at the truth of Azriel’s words. “She could create anything.” He nodded to Rhys. “She could fill our arsenals with weapons that would win us any war.” Briallyn, Koschei, and Beron wouldn’t stand a chance. “Which is why Nesta must not learn about it,” Amren said. Cassian demanded, “What?” Amren’s gray eyes held steady. “She cannot know.” Rhys said, “That seems like a risk. What if, unaware, she creates more?” “What if, in one of her moods,” Amren challenged, “Nesta creates what she pleases just to spite us…’ (SF)

He appealed to Rhys, “You’re all right with this? Because I’m sure as hell not.” “Amren’s order holds,” Rhys said, and for a heartbeat, Cassian hated him. Hated the mistrust and wariness he beheld on Rhys’s face.(SF

“No. She knows the labor will be difficult, but I haven’t told her yet that it might very well claim her life.” Rhys spoke into their minds, as if he couldn’t say it aloud, I haven’t told her that the nightmares that now send me lurching from sleep aren’t ones of the past, but of the future. Cassian squeezed Rhys’s shoulder. “Why won’t you tell her?” Rhys’s throat worked. “Because I can’t bring myself to give her that fear. To take away one bit of the joy in her eyes every time she puts a hand on her belly.” His voice shook. “It is fucking eating me alive, this terror. I keep myself busy, but … there is no one to bargain with for her life, no amount of wealth to buy it, nothing that I can do to save her.

So much is happening here – there’s actually more scenes, but I don’t want to go and find them all. I wanted to include more similarities between Feyre and Nesta (I might make a separate post with all of those). To some extent, I think a lot of these quotes, even without elaboration echo the point I’m about to make. In quote #4, Cassian’s narration berates Nesta for not being integrated into the family and not being happy at Solsitice, but we the audience know that Nesta (1) isn’t being talked to, (2) she can barely stand the sound of the fire, (3) Feyre forced Nesta to come by essentially holding her rent over her head. And there’s just way to many parallels between how Nesta feels at the NC and how Feyre felt at the Spring Court. Nesta is drowning; she tells us that – Rhysand’s subtle anger is something she not only notices, but internalizes. She specifically mentions that she doesn’t take any of Rhysand’s positions because they were pity offerings; he’s only doing it because of Feyre. The story then decides to let him spearhead the conversations around Nesta’s autonomy. In the first quote, Tamlin's overall ignorance regarding Feyre's mental state, and her aversion to things such as the color Red were considered red flags; yet when Nesta has an aversion to fire, when she is neglected and nearly dies the story spends so much time trying to tell the audience that Cassian simply didn't know - it doesn't say anything about him.

But one of the biggest indicators of this ruin of the story is the fact that Amren and Rhys believe that Nesta should not have her power because ““What if, in one of her moods,” Amren challenged, “Nesta creates what she pleases just to spite us?” (Maas). The issue, as consistently reiterated, is a control one. They don’t trust Nesta simply because they cannot control her – that is what is highlighted as the issue in the story. Furthermore, Feyre doesn’t let Nesta know, she defers to a process that she doesn’t have to. She outranks everyone in that room; if she wanted to tell Nesta was rules would stop her – that’s literally been the way Feyre has characterized (see: Wraiths, the HL meeting attacking Beron, Tarquin and the BoB, Mor/Feyre w/ the Suriel), yet in this moment when she disagrees with Rhys – she essentially defers to his command. She simply expresses a subtle wariness and then moves on. Feyre has the power to just tell Nesta is the point that I am making here. It’s Nesta’s power; they forced her to do these tasks, and when she has one moment of autonomy in making the sword – they are argue that Rhys should make himself High King and Cassian, despite his earlier provocations, believes in this. He agrees with it. And even though I am going on this long, wordy analysis, I think a lot of what I am saying is kind of really clear In these quotes even without explaining.

To bring this back, Rhys (and Feyre somewhat) are only excused because the story believes their intentions were good (see quote #7), which conflicts with what we’ve already seen. These are…the exact same justifications we get about Tamlin; he truly believes that by making her safe, he is making her happy – but we know Feyre values truth over safety. And so the story undermines its lessons by not condemning the actions of its characters and instead leans into moralistic reasons. The argument now isn't even that Nesta isn't being abused, but stans and even the story (subtextually) believe that Nesta deserves the abuse - or that it's purely a consequence of her own immaturity, yet this is a far-cry to how Feyre is perceived in similar situations. The story argues that these characters understand that Nesta is not in her right mind - but constantly the story expects her act functionally in the face of her depression, even though the very reason the decided to lock her up is because they all unanimously believed she could not function by herself. She's expected to respond appropriately to their jabs, do missions on their behalf, train, and work at the library with no pay. She cannot leave Velaris without a Chaperone and all of her Chaporene are employed officials who are gone for the entirety of the book. No one ever actually offers to ever take Nesta out to see the town. I am seriously tired, and really concerned with the way Nesta's abuse is talked about.

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti acosf #anti feysand #anti sjm: nesta archeron #anti feyre #anti acomaf #anti acotar #anti inner circle #anti sjm: pro nesta archeron #ive honestly got a lot to say abt this and Amarantha too #anti tamlin #tamlin

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Blind Offer 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that's too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come

Note: Loooooook. I was gonna restrain myself but this all just got outta hand. This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won't reveal which one right away because it'll be part of the plot!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

You keep your slippers just away from the edge of the puddle. The sheet of water extends almost completely across the kitchen. You hug yourself, still slightly groggy from your early and rude awakening. The washing you put in last night hadn’t finished and instead the sudsy mess had leaked out around the door.

There’s a sigh and a clank as your landlord pulls his arm out of the machine. Your sopping laundry is in a bucket by his feet. His shirt is visibly wet from his struggle to stem the steady flow dripping from the brim of the washer door. You worry you may have overloaded the compact stacking unit.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say as you sway guiltily.

“Don’t be,” he puts his hands on his hips and blows out. A golden strand dangles down his forehead, “it’s not you. My own fault. I thought these things might hold out for a while…”

“Oh?”

“Not the first time I’ve had to fight the beast but it worked. I should be sorry, I should’ve just replaced it.”

“Well, uh, what are you gonna do now?” You look at the wet tile, the scent of laundry detergent thick in the air as the water creeps closer to your slippers.

“Uh, yeah, well, obviously you can’t stay here.”

“I can’t?” You raise your head, running your hand up the front of your robe and clutching the fluffy fabric.

“No, bylaws say you need to evacuate until I can get a new unit in here. And clean up. Leak like this can leave mildew and mold,” he combs his large hand over his head, “I feel bad enough, I couldn’t let you live in this.”

“Okay… um, I have to work in a couple hours–”

“Oh, geez. Well, er, maybe just pack up a few things and I can take you over to the new place? You can always come back to grab more if you need.”

“I guess…” you chew your lip. His blue eyes fixate on the gesture so you stop. “How far is it?”

“Not very, about twenty minutes east by car.”

“East?” You utter dully, “that’s a bit far. I work up near the metro area.”

“There’s some bus stops that way but I could give you a lift tod–” There’s a sudden gush and he looks back to the machine, a bubble of water flowing up over the brim. He shuts the door, stemming much of it. “You won’t even be able to cook in here,” he says, “look, bylaws say I have to relocate you. I have a property free which means I don’t have to splurge for a hotel. If you prefer somewhere closer, then it’s on you.”

You frown. He’s not the worst landlord you’ve had but he definitely talks like one. He’s only really worried about his liability. Yet, most others wouldn’t have even brought up that clause and left you to wallow in this puddle of dirty laundry water. You shrug, hopefully the other place isn’t too bad.

“Right, uh, I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you relent.

“Great,” he says with blatant exasperation, turning back to face the trembling washer, his voice deflating to a hoarse rasp, “goddamn.”

You hesitate as you stare at his back. The gray fabric of his jersey henley strains across his shoulder blades as the back of his forearms clench, veins pulsing out. He rolls his head on his neck and heaves out again.

You turn on your foot and slowly pad out of the kitchen. You hear his sole squeak subtly but refuse to glance back again. You can’t help but feel that it’s all your fault. You’re sure he’s too nice to say so. Or too distracted by the chaos you’ve caused.

🖤

The new apartment isn’t an apartment at all. It’s a walkup townhouse with a sleek black and white exterior. The neighbourhood is far out of your range but you won’t complain. You suspect Steve is already aware of the deferential.

“Wow, this place is really nice,” you say as he holds the door for you. You step inside and take in the space; a narrow staircase to the next floor, black frames around grayscale photography, and minimalist decor in the form of a standing geometric floor vase and a coat rack with bent arms.

You stop to take your shoes off on the mat as Steve squeezes in behind you and shuts the door. You trip away from him, surprised by the friction of his body against yours. You’ve always been overly aware of yourself and how much room you take up. Your size makes it hard to not feel crowded, still the close brush rattles you.

He swirls the keys around a finger and stills them in his fist. He looks around emphatically and waves a hand.

“Well, this is it. It’s my only vacant property at the moment, so, it’ll have to do. Fully furnished, at least.”

“It’s great,” you assure him as you step further in, your duffel hanging heavy from one arm, “wow, it’s…”

“A lot bigger than your place. Yeah. New development. Invested at ground floor. You’ll be the first tenant, at least for the time being.”

“Ah, right,” you go to the narrow bench of black acrylic and place your bag atop it. “I’ll try not to mess it up.”

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

“Uh, yeah, but obviously it’s above my paygrade,” you scoff, “I appreciate it and sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it. Really. Dropping a couple hundred on a new washer woulda saved us both trouble. I only got one person to blame,” he holds out his hand, “you don’t need a tour, do ya?” He offers the keys and you step up to take them, “I’ll be back around noon to get you to work but I got running around to do.”

“Um, I should be able to figure it out–”

“Oh, wait,” he puts a finger up, “the door code. Just in case. Also, you’ll wanna override the security system when you get in.” He turns and points to the sleek black box mounted beside the door, “I got it on my phone but you’ll just need to pop it open and put in the number.” He slides out his phone, “I’ll just text it before I forget.”

“Right,” you nod as you clutch the keys tight, “got it. I think I can manage.”

“Anyway, you got my number, you need anything, you know how to reach me,” he checks his watch, “noon,” he repeats as he points at you, “I’ll be back.”

He spins and opens the door, swiftly stepping through before swinging it shut behind him. You’re left slightly stunned and don’t move right away. You cross the floor and twist the latch of the door, a cautious habit likely unnecessary in this neighbourhood.

You turn back to your new abode and let your eyes rove. Wow. All this just for you. You wonder how much one of these places go for. Your monthly pay probably wouldn’t even cover a single week.

You shuffle forward, uncertain, expecting for Steve to come back through and tell you it’s all a mistake.

You peer around at the immaculate decor. Each piece is perfectly set and carefully curated. The long leather sectional and the matching square backed armchairs before the artificial fireplace in the wall. A low coffee table on a rug patterned in black and white, a touch of red in the throw pillows and the curtains.

Then the kitchen, white, pure marble, and pale silver appliances. The tile is marked by subtle dove grey diamonds, and a table sits against the wall with two chairs. You go back into the hallway and down towards the front of the stairs. You peek up at the top as you pass the small half-bath embedded on the other side.

Upstairs, you find two bedrooms, a full bath, and what appears to be a study, along with several spacious closets. It’s truly a dream. Who knew a broken washer could get you a stay in heaven.

Well, you should get settled in. Enjoy it while it lasts.

🖤

As promised, Steve shows up just before noon. You have your uniform on but feel less than ready to go. The abrupt awakening, the displacement, and the typical dread of the overcrowded box store. Your job is less than glamorous and the townhouse underlines that even more as you bid it a reluctant goodbye.

Steve’s car is sleek and red and overpriced. You don’t know much about cars but you can just tell. The interior is squeaky and so clean you’re sure it must be right off the lot. That new car smell fills your nose and threatens to inspire a migraine.

You put your purse in your lap and buckle up as he turns down the volume on the stereo. You recognise the song, surprised by his taste. He didn’t seem the angsty type. As far from grungy as you can imagine.

“Smashing Pumpkins?” You comment.

“You don’t like them?”

“Don’t mind em,” you shrug, “just figured you were more into… I don’t know, just not them.”

“When I’m not unclogging toilets or changing smoke alarms, I actually do have fun,” he scoffs.

“Oh, I didn’t mean–”

“Kidding,” he assures you as he pulls away from the curb.

You watch the townhouses pass by as he slowly rolls down the street. It’s eerie. There are no other cars lined up in the spots parallel to the pavement. In fact, you don’t see anyone else around. Not through windows, not coming or going, no one so much as walking down the cul-de-sac. It is oddly isolated from the suburbs all around.

“Not like I have great music taste, I’m a disco junkie,” you try to laugh off the tension.

“Fun,” he muses dully.

You don’t respond. You’re on your phone checking Uber prices for the way back. Eek. You pull up the bus routes for the area; at least two transfers to get there. Shit.

“So…” Steve begins, “who you chatting with? Telling them about your tight-ass landlord or what?”

“Uh, no,” you put your phone down and black the screen, “I was just… tryna figure out how I’m getting home. Sorry. Did you say something?”

“Nothing important,” he assures, “what time are you done?”

“Nine, closing,” you explain, “it’s fine, there’s buses. I’ll just have to remember not to go to my usual stop.”

“I can come get you,” he offers.

“That’s… that’s fine. You don’t have to. You’ve already done enough–”

“Really, I don’t have much else going on. Besides the washer but my buddy’s taking care of that for me. I’ll be available.”

“If you don’t mind, but really, I’m gonna have to learn the route. Actually, when do you think I’ll be back at my apartment?”

“Couple of days at best. After we left, the water got into the motor of the dryer– to spare you the whole spiel, the dryer needs to be replaced too. And the floor might need to come up, water’s done a number on the laminate–”

“Oh,” you grimace, “I… that sounds bad.”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed. Look, I know it’s probably not ideal for you to be all the way out here. I’ll keep you updated,” he speaks with one hand as his other remains on the wheel.

“Oh, no, I appreciate all your help. It’s just…” you cross your ankles and nervously wiggle your foot, “I’m just anxious.”

He hums and a thoughtful silence rises between you. He turns a corner and clears his throat, “about the apartment or work?”

“What?”

“What are you anxious about?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, yeah, uh, work, sure. Work always makes me anxious. Lots of angry customers and we’re headed into that season, you know?”

“Makes sense,” he nods, moving his hand low on the wheel as he sits back and steers lazily with the clogged flow of the city traffic.

“And the apartment,” you admit, “I’m not the best with change.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he agrees, “I’m a bit of stickler. I like order, you know? Everything has its place. Everyone has their role.”

You mull his words. It’s a strange way of putting it but you get it. You find your life erratic this time of year, when your schedule goes from predictable to hectic and fluid. Everyone wants to switch shifts and all the managers are trying to fill the schedule with as few bodies as possible.

“I mean…” he breaks the lull, “you know, I keep a pretty strict schedule with myself. Try to. You never know when you’ll get a call at 5am.”

You suck in air and look at him from the corner of your eye. His allusion isn’t subtle. The pit sinks further in your stomach. You don’t need one more person disappointed in you, not when you’re about to face Gwen the manager and her omnipotent clipboard.

“Yeah, uh,” you bend your arm and rub your neck, “sorry…”

“You apologise a lot,” he interrupts, “I’m not mad.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” you move your thumb to chew it.

He glances over at you before quickly refocusing on the road. He laughs, a hollow, gristly chuckle, “trust me, if I was mad, you would know.”

You blink. What? You’re not sure what he means. Is he joking? Maybe it’s that he’s such a nice guy that the change would be unmistakable or maybe he’s being sarcastic and you’re too stupid to pick up on it. Either way, you just want this car ride to be over.

“Right,” you eke out, “I’ll, erm, be sure to stay on your good side then.”

He slides his hand around the wheel to the top, squeezing until the leather squeaks. He shifts in his seat and exhales, “girl like you, I can’t imagine you being too much of a handful.”

His remark sticks in your ears. Again, you’re confounded by him. You can't read his tone as it's quickly washed away by the sudden blare of music as he cranks up the volume.

“This is a good one,” he calls over the music, “I’m sure you know it.”

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Someone will say, "What is lost can never be saved" Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage

Now I'm naked Nothing but an animal But can you fake it For just one more show?

The creaky tones of Billy Corgan’s lilt surrounds you as Steve bobs his head. The swirl of noise and the shadow of tension mingle and suffocate you. You’re starting to look forward to work.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #corrupt-a-wish #au #multifandom #captain america #avengers #marvel #mcu #more characters to be added #blind offer

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horrorhot-line · 2 years

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eunoia

(n.) beautiful thinking; a well mind.

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/reader

➵ word count: 4.8k

➵ genre: slight angst? fluff

➵ warnings: none

➵ summary: teruhashi and mikoto swap looks and all it does is annoy saiki, he asks you for help once again. alternatively, teruhashi and mikoto compete to figure out saiki’s type, you try not to get involved but get dragged into things anyway.

➵ masterlist (requests are open)

➵previous post - rame

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM

before you read:

‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader’ ‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’ “saiki talking without moving his mouth.” “saiki talking using his mouth.”

notes: this was a request, found here, finally i’ve managed to update the series and i hope you all like the newest rendition. this one’s based off of season 2 episode 17. enjoy!!!

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Sitting across from Kokomi, you took down notes from her book. You had asked her beforehand for help since you didn't understand the class material. Of course, like the 'angel' she was, she didn't refuse. After grabbing a chair from another desk, you had parked yourself in front of her. Though, it proved hard to focus when everyone around you gushed about her perfect she was.

You leaned back in place, picking up Kokomi's notebook to take a closer look at it, squinting your eyes at it. Almost as if the action itself would help it magically make sense. The words written on the pages were elegant- even her handwriting was perfect. You sighed, yet again realising that if anyone ended up with Saiki- it would be her.

'Stop thinking useless things.' You nearly jumped in surprise. Would you ever get used to him randomly talking to you telepathically? Probably not. You furrowed your eyebrows and closed your eyes in slight frustration. 'I swear I told you to stop that.' You thought back at Saiki, recognising his voice in your head.

You shoved down the thought of how nice he sounded, regardless of whether he talked to you with his mouth or not. 'Stop what?' He retorted. You were grateful Teruhashi was too busy feeling proud of the attention she was getting from the guys in the class to pay attention to your expressions. 'Checking into my thoughts like I'm some radio station.' You huffed mentally.

'I can't help hearing you.' You exhaled through your nose, slumping in your seat. You knew he was right, but still! He didn't have to reply to you- he could ignore it. 'It's not like I'm wrong, she's perfec-' He cut off your thought before you could continue. 'Don't care.' Typical Saiki, always having to be in the right. 'Why not?'

'Because I don't... besides, she's not my type.' That made you raise an eyebrow to yourself. You looked over your shoulder to Saiki, still sitting at his desk, before you turned around to face in front of you. 'Why not?' You hoped you didn't sound too curious, aiming for indifference. It didn't work. 'She's not my type,' He reiterated.

That made you wonder, who was then? You shook your head, going back to pretending you were paying attention to Teruhashi's notebook- or trying to, at least. It was none of your business, to begin with, so it's not like you'd pry. Part of you didn't want to know so you wouldn't go around unconsciously changing your appearance.

What good would it do finding out anyway? It's not like you would fit his expectations. Knowing him meant being aware of the fact that he didn't have a single bone for romance in his body. That didn't stop the pang of pain you felt in your gut. You chose to halt your thought process before you got upset. There was no point souring your mood over something like that.

You would've started focusing on the school work you had left had it not been for Mikoto calling out Saiki's name. "Kusuo!" Turned out, you weren't the only one paying attention- Teruhashi had whipped her head to look in their direction. If you hadn't moved back in time, her perfect hair would have slapped you in the face.

"Let's go get cake later!" Mikoto announced, and you ignored the bitter taste in your mouth. Was this feeling... jealousy? No way. It was, but it's not like you would admit it to yourself. You watched Teruhashi's expression darken, and you moved back. She had a piece of her hair in her mouth, and she ground her teeth in anger. She looked creepy, and you had no intention of setting her off, even by accident. She was giving off Sadako (girl from the ring) vibes. You shivered involuntarily.

You didn’t need the power of mind reading to know what she was thinking. ‘Acting so friendly with Saiki, darn that b!tch!’

You said nothing when Teruhashi got up abruptly and excused herself to you, knowing full well she was going after Mikoto and the psychic. Saiki was popular- he had two of the prettiest girls in the school chasing after him. You exhaled deeply, shaking your head to yourself.

So much for not putting yourself in a sour mood. You quietly returned to your desk, deciding to sleep the rest of the day away instead. Education be damned.

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Your jaw dropped to the floor when you came to school the next day, only to find Teruhashi had copied Mikoto's style. The rest of the guys in the classroom shared your sentiment. "Oh, my!" and "No way!!" was all they could muster. One of them asked what had happened to her directly. "A makeover," She answered, a faint blush lining her cheeks. You cringed.

The boys in the class ogled at her telling her how great she looked. Personally, you thought the change didn't suit her, but to each their own. Did miss perfect think the fortune teller in question was Saiki's type? Oh, dear lord.

You were sat across Saiki this time when she showed up to school. 'What is she doing?' Saiki thought at you, and you replied, still staring at Teruhashi- dumbfounded. 'I think you already know.' He deadpanned, sighing at her behaviour. 'She thinks I'm going to gasp.'

‘Who knows, maybe you will.’ You teased, only for him to turn to you with his face void of emotion. ‘Stop it.’ You wanted to snort because Saiki would do that when pigs fly. Disclaimer: never gonna happen. Not on your watch. 'Fat chance.' Knowing him, he'd just sigh at her behaviour. She had the wrong idea about the pink-haired boy, that was for sure.

You hadn't noticed Mikoto standing behind you until Saiki raised his head to look at her, and she spoke. "Wah! Terukoko, that look fits you!" She complimented, before presenting herself to Saiki. 'And this one, what has she done?' You raised your head back to look at her before you rushed to turn around in your chair when you caught a glimpse of her. 'Oh, no...' You thought back at Saiki. 'Oh, no indeed, good grief.' What a disaster.

She had straightened her hair and dyed it brown- though her iconic clip remained. Her jewellery and acrylic nails were nowhere to be seen. "What do you think? I'm mainstream, now," Mikoto questioned. Had the two- had they switched their looks for the day? Of course, they had. But why? Ah, it was because they were trying to be Saiki's type, each one confusing something fundamental. The boy didn't have one- a type.

He did, but what you weren’t aware of that.

Not waiting for an answer from Saiki, she turned to Teruhashi, going back to gushing over her with a smile. "Terukoko, you looked really cute, so I tried a more conventional look like yours." At least she was honest, you had to commend her for that. 'Terukoko?' Saiki commented, questioning the nickname. You were too shell shocked to reply.

"It's a wig, though," Mikoto clarified, and you sighed in relief. She hadn't done any permanent damage. 'What are they trading looks for?' Of course, he didn't know- the boy was dense as a rock. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Exactly what I said. It means you can't even tell when they change their styles to impress you.' You shot back. You felt Teruhashi staring at the two of you, but refused to look her way- in fear of incurring the anger of a jealous high school girl in love. 'Great, now Teruhashi thinks I like girls for their boobs.'

You turned to look back at him, your back hurting from twisting to observe Mikoto. 'Why would she think that?' You questioned Saiki. He sighed, lowering his head. 'That's the difference between the two.' You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. He wasn't wrong, Teruhashi's chest was small compared to the fortune teller. A cup vs Double Ds.

It was clear the psychic had had enough of the whole fiasco. Mikoto left after Saiki told her off, apologising as she did. You exhaled. Something about the two of them switching styles to catch Saiki's attention didn't sit well with you. You ignored the feeling, refusing to dwell on it further. Instead, you focused on Saiki. A mistake, if you were being honest.

The moment you got lost in admiring his features, the world faded away. A horrible sign, because it meant this boy had a hold on you and he wouldn't do a damn thing about it. You wanted to reach out and touch his hair, it looked soft to the touch and you wanted to feel it. To feel him. You restrained yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Saiki would let you touch his hair if you asked, but you didn't- so it's not like he'd offer himself. You didn't need to know that, though.

His lips looked soft too, they were light pink, a few shades dimmer compared to his hair. When the thought of kissing him crossed your mind, you clenched your jaw. No. You would never go there, you wouldn't allow yourself to even imagine it.

He was your friend for god's sake! You had to keep yourself in line. Lest you destroy the relationship you had with him. When his eyes met yours, stoic and devoid of emotion, you felt your heart stop. The butterflies erupted in your stomach and you cursed at yourself for letting something that simple get to you.

You didn't even realise he was calling, your mind hadn't even registered his lips moving, calling out your name. Only when he softly touched your hand, the one on his desk did you snap out of it. You flushed red- the colour, you were sure had enveloped your entire being.

"Y/n. Pay attention. You'll fail the upcoming mock test otherwise." No witty response came from you, too dazed to fire back. "Ye-yeah." You said meekly, failing to notice the look of slight worry Saiki shot at you. The feeling of his fingers on the back of your hand, made the tips of your ears burn. You tried not to think about how nice his touch felt.

His hands were warm. He was warm.

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You decided by the end of the school day that you weren't going to get involved with the non-existent love triangle Mikoto and Teruhashi were convinced existed. You made quick work of packing your bags, noting how Saiki had come to the same conclusion as you, excluding himself from the situation.

Saiki had gone to the toilet right before the last period concluded, his typical escape route when he wanted to avoid people. Truth be told, you were surprised that neither female had followed him.

Before you had the chance to put your pencil case away, the girls in question had walked up to your desk. You reluctantly looked up, your hand in your bag as you shot them a tense smile. You had spoken too soon. Looked like not getting involved wouldn't be an option.

Mikoto brushed her wig behind her shoulder before folding her arms in front of her chest. You tried not to pay attention to the way her boobs looked bigger because of the action, looking at the desk next to you as if it was interesting.

'Y/n, don't say a word. Walk away.' Saiki's voice reverberated inside your skull.

You tried to control your expression of surprise, had you not done so, your eyebrows would've disappeared past your hairline. Trying not to think about how much you missed his honey-like voice, you zipped up your bag quietly.

Traitor. If he was going to escape, knowing what was to come, he should've taken you with him. A fair warning, at least, would've been nice. You didn't have the braincells for this. The remaining three just screamed 'Hungry, angry, hangry!'

"Need something?" You asked absent-mindedly as you checked the time on your phone. "What's Saiki's type?" You sighed inwardly. Of course, Mikoto would be direct. Your eyes met Teruhashi's, who immediately looked away as if she was embarrassed. No surprise there, she would never ask, lest she gives away the name of her 'secret' crush.

'Don't say anything, Y/n. I'm warning you.' Saiki affirmed, and you groaned internally. 'I got it, I got it. Wasn't planning on it anyways, I don't know your type to begin wit- wait, are you still in the bathroom?'

Silence passed for a few seconds before he said something again. '...Yes.' The corners of your mouth twitched. You stopped yourself from laughing, the idea of Saiki squatting on a closed toilet bowl trying to talk to you flashed through your head. 'I'm not squatting. Good grief. Just get rid of them.'

You rolled your eyes mentally, before looking at Mikoto, who was still waiting for your response. "You're asking the wrong person- I don't know." You hoped that would get them to leave you alone. You didn't even get the chance to grab your school bag before she spoke up again. "How could you not? You're close with him!" You sighed, audibly this time.

"So, what? Doesn't mean I have an answer to your question." Forget being polite, you did not have the mental capacity for a conversation like that today. You turned to leave the classroom only to find Mikoto was still following you, Teruhashi on her heels. "Wai- Wait up! Stop trying to keep him to yourself, Y/n! I got a right to know." Her voice still as cheery as always.

That pissed you off. Keep him- to yourself? What a joke. You had no intention of making a move on Saiki. You turned around abruptly, stopping her in her tracks. "I am not. He's my friend, and I have no interest in the guy. Do you get that? F-R-I-E-N-D-S. I don't know his type, he's never told me or shown a liking for the female gender for that matter." You clenched your jaw.

Did they have any idea how much it hurt watching them try so hard for him? Knowing you could never act as freely as they did? Watching them chase after him any chance they got? You didn't mind their feelings for him- after all, it wasn't your place to decide who could go after him and who couldn't. That didn't mean you wouldn't feel jealous of it, though. ‘F^ck this.’

"Why don't you ask him, yourself?" You huffed before you turned on your heel. You half-heartedly accepted the sorry Mikoto shot your way, waving your hand before you walked down the hallway to the stairs that would get you out of the stupid school building.

When Saiki teleported from the bathroom to the shoe lockers near the exit, joining you in walking home, you stayed silent.

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The next day wasn't any better. Mikoto showed up with the same wig from the day before, and glasses this time. You assumed she hadn't taken your advice and asked him. When Teruhashi entered the classroom, you sighed for the 1000th time that week.

Teruhashi had dyed her hair blonde and had a bow resting in it. Not to mention the fact that it was curled just like Mikoto's. 'It gets worse,' you thought to yourself, shaking your head. Like clockwork, the boys in the class crowded around her, telling her how cute she looked. Some wondered why she had changed. What was she? Some kind of zoo animal?

"Te-Teruhashi, what did you do?" One of them asked. 'She really did it,' Saiki thought at you, and you glanced to your left to observe him. His glasses hid his eyes, but you knew he wasn't pleased. Teruhashi put her hand up next to her eyes like Mikoto would and answered the boy, "I just felt like it." Like hell she did. "So edgy!" The boy who had queried, exclaimed. 'A personality makeover, too?'

Teruhashi passed in front of your desk, heading to Saiki's. You would have bet money that she was trying to get him to gasp. "Good morning, Saiki." When Saiki nodded at her, acknowledging her existence, she turned her head 180°, like some owl. She was clearly shocked he hadn't reacted.

'What's wrong with her brain?' Saiki questioned, and you answered, of course. 'It's because she went to so much effort for you.' The two of you watched as the girl in question ran out of the classroom.

'She's still fixated on boobs?' You snickered quietly to yourself at Saiki's comment. 'Good grief, I don't want her to fall deeper into this,' He stated before he turned to you, 'If she asks for love advice from you, tell her to go back to her normal self.'

'Before I agree, I have to tell you something.' You thought back at him, before completely clearing your mind. A skill you developed, knowing how to stop the psychic from seeing it coming. 'What is it?' There was a pause, you continued to look in front of you. 'You should never fart in an apple store.' You heard him audibly sigh, '...Why?' You tried not to laugh. 'Because they don't have windows.'

'I will kill you.'

'No, you won't.'

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Truth be told, you weren't sure why the school turned to you for advice on relationships when they had Mikoto to just point them in the direction of their soulmate. It was a good revenue to make money though, nothing in this world came for free, after all. That's how you found yourself sitting across from Mikoto, a 100 yen coin in her hand. She had decided to turn to you the right way this time. With money.

"I need advice." She claimed, and you nodded looking around the empty classroom. Mostly empty, since Saiki was still there, just existing. You were next to the seats near the lockers since everyone else had left to go on their break and the chairs were free. "I know." You rubbed your temple, ignoring the headache that emerged.

Trying not to pay attention to the dull pain behind your right eye socket, you gestured with your hand for her to continue before folding your arms in front of your chest. "I changed my style to fit Teruhashi's looks and it's not working, I don't understand what I have to do to get his attention."

When you stayed silent, she continued, and you pretended her talking about Saiki didn't affect you. Nope. Not one bit... Okay, maybe it did a little. Your job as the designated love guru came first, though. You needed the 100 yen to buy coffee jelly for Saiki. "I'm gonna be honest with you. You're my rival." That caught you off guard, and you furrowed your eyebrows at her.

"Heh, why?" You questioned, not understanding what she meant. Why would you be her love rival when you had no intention of acting on the stupid crush you had? She sighed, looking out the window of the classroom. "I looked into your fortune like I did with Saiki. I just want you to know I'm not going to stop competing with you." Mikoto turned back to look at you, and you were left even more confused.

Your head reeled. What the hell was she on about? You liked Mikoto, she was nice, and headstrong, not taking shit from anyone, but she was cryptic. Something you didn't enjoy much, since she spoke in riddles at times. Like now. "Why would you compete-" You didn't get a chance to finish as Mikoto cut you off. "You're his absolute future, his absolute soulma-"

Teruhashi walked in before she could finish, and you coughed into your hand and moved back in your seat, pretending you hadn't been at the edge of it. She still had Mikoto's style, and you had to say, it was growing on you. You wouldn't lie, she was still pretty. She took a chair and placed it beside Mikoto.

"I need your advice." Of course, she did as well. You dragged your hands down your face, already done with the day. You weren't a fan of talking about love with them when you knew that they were trying to pine for Saiki. Regardless, you'd give it, because the boy in question had asked you to.

"Payment first, both of you." When they gave it to you, you put the 200 yen on your side of the desk before you looked at them expectantly. "The guy I like doesn't care no matter how much I change myself for him." Teruhashi piped up first, and Mikoto agreed with her, saying she had the same issue.

You leaned back in your chair and it creaked slightly due to the shift in weight. "The issue isn't whether he cares or not. Ask yourselves this, why are you changing into someone that isn't true to yourself? Why do that for a guy? There isn't any point in it, because if he doesn't like you for you, then what use is he to you?"

Both of them looked at each other before turning to you. "So, what are you saying? Give up on him?" Mikoto spoke first this time, and Teruhashi agreed. You sighed, they still didn't get it. "No- I'm saying go back to your original styles, then try again. Copying each other won't help you." When they stayed silent, thinking on your words, you knew your work was done. With that, you took the 200 yen and returned to your desk next to Saiki.

The day after, the both of them had returned to normal and you sighed with relief.

'You owe me.'

'I know.'

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

bonus:

"I need your help, again." Of course, Saiki did. It was a regular occurrence. Whenever he didn't want to be bothered, he'd use you as some sort of human shield against 'nuisances', i.e, his friends. Now it was your turn to deadpan at the pink-haired boy.

You raised your eyebrows to mock him, your eyelids lowered as you nodded your head with a knowing look. "What is it this time?" As your eyes trailed from his to stare at the hand on your arm, a feeling of deja vu washed over you. This situation was eerily similar to when Saiki had asked you to third wheel when he didn't want to hang out with Teruhashi alone. "Mikoto wants to get cake with me after school."

The only difference this time was that it was break time and he had caught you on the roof of the school. You tried not to think how pretty he looked with the sunlight bathing him in its glow. You ran a hand through your hair, "I can't refuse, Can I?" You turned from looking at the school field to Saiki. When your eyes met the place he was holding you, he didn't let go.

"It wasn't a question." He stated bluntly. You let out a huff of amusement, of course, it wasn't. The same predicament as the last time this had happened came up, to help or to not help. You could try ducking under him to escape, but you knew it wouldn't work. As much as you didn't want to roll over and let Saiki have his way, you knew you'd let it happen.

Then, making him work for it, wouldn't hurt right? "I don't think so. I'm not helping." Despite Saiki's expression not changing, the twitch of his eyebrow told you he was peeved. "You're coming with me." You huffed in annoyance. Always so damn stubborn. "Why don't you just go with her? You love sweet stuff." You tried not to pay attention to how his touch was doing things to your heart. You felt the breeze of the afternoon on your skin, thankful for it since it helped cool you down.

Saiki had yet to break eye contact with you, and you didn't like the feeling of your insides being squeezed, not one bit. You broke the stare first. "Because it's bothersome." You looked at him incredulously, why was it your job to help him, just because he thought of it as a chore?

"You already owe me, Kusuo." You stated.

"I know." He replied almost immediately.

"I will come to collect a favour." You confirmed.

"I know." He shot back.

You sighed, "Fine! I'll come with- see you after class." You agreed as much as you didn't want to. Seeing Mikoto try to get Saiki to like her didn't sound appealing in the slightest. You expected him to leave, he had gotten what he came for.

To your surprise, he stayed put. "...What?" You asked, unsure what he wanted. "I'm waiting for you. Class is about to start and we're going to be late." You gave him a soft smile at that. The small act of consideration was enough to remind you that this boy owned your heart. Out of all the people in the world, Saiki Kusuo just had to be the one you fell for. When you didn't move, too lost in your thoughts, he spoke.

"For your first favour, I'll let you touch my hair. Once." You nearly choked on the spit in your mouth, did you hear him right??? When you stayed silent, too shocked to say a word, Saiki elaborated, "You were thinking about it two days ago." You flushed with embarrassment. He had heard you?!

Of course, he had- he had telepathy after all. Curse you for letting your thoughts run wild in a 200-metre radius of him. You wanted to combust, praying to any higher power to just let the ground beneath you swallow you up. Anything would be better than having to be in this situation.

"Stop reading my mind, will you?" You said meekly, hoping that was all he heard. "I can't help it when you're that loud. Now hurry up before I change my mind." You forced your mind to not go at a hundred miles per hour. No such luck. Act cool, Y/n, please. You begged internally.

You moved closer to him, trying not to pay attention to his eyes following your every move. Why did this man have to make you so nervous? You could feel your face burning, and when he finally let go of your arm, you reached forward. You tentatively placed your fingers over his pink locks, exhaling nervously.

The moment your hand came into contact with his hair, your mind went blank. Why did it all feel so natural to you? You were surprised at how soft his hair was, it was like a fluffy carpet, the ones you'd draw designs into just because of how nice it felt on your hands. You let your fingers move to feel more, experimentally.

Saiki's expression had yet to change, the only thing that did was the fact that he was no longer looking at you, staring off to the side. You licked your lips, letting yourself enjoy the moment, knowing you'd never get a chance like this again. You would.

'Why does it feel so soft? What conditioner does he use?'

You sighed in contentment, absentmindedly running your hands through his pink hair as you thought back to when Mikoto and Teruhashi had cornered you to try and find out Saiki's type. What was his type? Did he even have one? If you had to guess, you'd reckon it was someone who loved themselves.

You had a feeling that Saiki didn't like those who tried too hard or who changed just for him. That much was obvious from how he reacted to the two girl's switching styles. So, someone who remained true to themselves, no matter what? That had to be it.

“Oh, Wow.”

You froze, what f^ck was that? You looked to Saiki, questioning if you had misheard him. It was his voice, but there was no way the robot of a human was capable of saying those two words. The only thing that changed was that his hand now covered his mouth. You watched him, and when he refused to meet your gaze, you became suspicious.

"Kusuo...?" Your words trailed off when you noticed his ears, moving your hand to the side to take a better look. Were they... were they pink? Compared to his normal ivory skin, they looked flushed. Again, what the f^ck?

When you realised the same colour was creeping up to his neck from the collar of his school shirt, you wondered if you were hallucinating. Then, like it had been a trick of the light, it disappeared. He turned to you, finally looking you in the eyes. "What?" He tried to act nonchalant, but you saw through it. If you weren't so shocked you would have teased him.

You knew it! You had heard right! You had managed to do what even Teruhashi couldn't after months of effort. You had gotten the boy to say, "Oh, wow!" You were never going to forget this, mentally patting yourself on the back. You didn't care this time when your ears burnt as if they were on fire.

With one final rub to his hair, you retracted your hand. You wanted to say it. Right then and there. 'I like you. I've liked you since the moment we met, I don't know how it happened but I like you, you idiot.'

You stayed silent, swallowing your words, and biting your tongue. "Your hair is soft." Was all that you could muster. Saiki sighed, "Good grief. Now that you're done, we need to go. We're going to be late if we don't leave, Now." When he turned and started to speed walk, you shouted, "Wait up, Kusuo." Before following him.

The smile on your face didn't leave, not once.

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next part - kilig

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alexfromjersey · 1 year

Text

𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 & 𝓢𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓜𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓪

jenna ortega x g!poc

summary: jah and jenna struggle with the long distance.

warnings: mature language, mentions marijuana

a/n: shortest chapter I ever wrote for this series but dont say I never gave yall nothing. ngl I be forgetting that I made Jah a streamer/influencer 😂. Imma start incorporating more like social media aspects to here cause this was fun

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

ONE WEEK LATER

“Yo I’m the greatest friend to ever walk planet Earth bruh. Davis finally let his balls drop and now him and Diana are going on a date together” You gushed to the brunette.

“Finally” Jenna chuckled.

It was currently 11 p.m. in London, which meant it was 6 p.m. in New York. Jenna just finished filming for the day and she needed to hear your voice. This is the first time in a week she's seen your face.

She was still on edge about Neil and hasn’t told you. She didn’t want to bring you into her mess and potentially end up finding out about her past. So she kept it to herself.

Your eyes were glued to the screen as you played Call of Duty, "Yeah I told him I'll help him plan his date since he wants to impress her."

"How sweet of you. I didn't know you had a sweet side to you sour patch kid" Jenna teased.

You stick your middle finger up at her to which she lets out a cute little giggle.

"So what's up with you? How filming going?" You asked and pushed your headphones behind your ears. Jenna had tried to stop the thoughts that ran through her mind a mile a second just now. But it was difficult when you looked good with a white tank top on displaying your tattoos, grey sweatpants, your chain dangling from your neck which she wants to grab at, and your glasses on.

After a moment, Jenna snapped out of her thoughts to answer your question, "It's going fine. Tim is forcing me to have a stunt double for the majority of my stunts which sucks because he don’t even know I’m pregnant" Jenna answered.

“Probably got that intuition” You shrugged.

“I guess. But other than that, filming is fine. Quiet little London Town that I can’t remember for the life of me” Jenna said and laid down in her bed. She let out a yawn.

“Go to sleep mamas. Call me when you get up” You said.

“No I wanna talk to you. I haven’t seen your face in a while” Jenna pouted.

You smiled, “But you need sleep. I know you probably have to get up mad early.”

“Yeah around like 4” Jenna sighed.

“See. Call me when you get me I’ll be up” You said.

"Okay," Jenna pouted. She hangs up the phone and turns over to stare at her ceiling.

She felt tears start to gather under her eyes but she quickly wiped them away. She was struggling with the just being friends with you. Each day, her feelings for you grow stronger but it was still something holding her back from pursuing you. She needed to figure it out quickly because she don’t know how much longer she can take it.

🤰🏻🩵

As the phone hung up, you let out a sigh and rubbed your face. You missed her badly. You wished you could just book a spontaneous flight over to London but you couldn’t…just yet.

You needed a distraction. You grabbed your phone and hopped onto your most used app, Twitter (you was not calling that shit X or whatever fuck Elon named. Fuck Elon Musk).

@bronxsheisty: can't wait for you to get home, we ain't got to go nowhere

Immediately, you started getting replies and quotes on your tweet.

@shiestylover: uh oh who’s this about 👀

@ghostridingwhip: jah is possibly taken? yeaaaaa let me go jump into oncoming traffic

@highondatgreen: it’s about me duh

@fnthechat: omg potential song lyrics! DROP THE SONG NOW

@modernbussywhip: i might have an idea and y’all never would of guessed it

@ghostridingwhip: oh do tell @modernbussywhip

@modernbussywhip: nah I need more evidence to support my claim but imma dm you my theory so far @ghostridingwhip

@bronxshiesty:

@modernbussywhip: oop-

@bronxshiesty: u should like share with the class @modernbussywhip

@modernbussywhip: i should share u with the class? couldn’t agree more

@bronxshiesty: oh that’s not- @modernbussywhip

@modernbussywhip:

@munchiesinmycrunchies: day 293792873 of asking for music

@ExclusiveShiestyUpdates: day 293792873 of waiting for an Instagram pic

@bronxshiesty: heard @ExclusiveShiestyUpdates

You exited out Twitter and went to Instagram. You found a pic you took yesterday and decided to post it.

bronxshiesty posted on Instagram after a while.

liked by jennaortega, davison, and 14,574 others.

bronxshiesty i was told to post on here so here u go

View all 9,836 comments

davison 🥶

↳ bronxshiesty u know the vibez

kaicenat god did

↳ bronxshiesty god did 🫣

elfanum big bronx all day 💯

↳ bronxshiesty everyday word 💯

↳ user3836 amp x shiesty collab?

↳ bronxshiesty @elfanum @kaicenat 👀

bbq.days i spy with my little eye a 5’1 boricua in the likes

kaydotnyc_ when u streaming

↳ bronxsheisty sometime tonite

mrenriquemelendez has started following bronxshiesty

aliyah.ortega has started following bronxshiesty

natalieortega1 has started following bronxshiesty

corneilo.millers has started following bronxshiesty

You don’t know what prompted you to click on Neil’s profile but you did. You saw that he was followed by Jenna and Jenna’s mother and he was a businessman. You followed back everyone and closed out your apps. Your eyes then glance down at the flyer on your coffee table. You grabbed it and exhaled deeply. You typed in the website in your phone and hit the registration button.

Here’s to opening more opportunities.

🤰🏻🩵

"I did it" You inhaled the smoke from the blunt. You leaned over and passed it to Davis who took it.

"Did what?" Davis questioned.

"I signed up for the competition. I kept staring at it on my table and just said fuck it" You shrugged and fixed your pants that were riding up your legs.

"Aye let's go" Davis cheered. He dapped you up to which you rolled your eyes at him with a smile.

"You need a musical stage name. You already got a streamer name but it won't be catchy or marketable to the music industry" Davis stated.

"I was thinking just Jah" You answered.

Davis puffed out a cloud of smoke, "Just Jah? I mean it flows sorta...Just Jah or JJ. It's aight"

"No dumbass I mean just my name Jah" You laughed.

"Oh! You could get away with it" Davis said. You knew he was high as a kite right now cause he started acting slower than usual when he was intoxicated.

The two of you then hear a ding from your phone. You grabbed it and saw it was a video from Jenna. You click on it and it starts with her showing her belly.

"Officially 14 weeks pregnant and the baby is the size of a navel orange," Jenna said and showed her belly. It was protruding more now but she was still able to hide it. Only if you got super close to her stomach you'll see she's pregnant but ain't nobody getting that close to her. "I want some oranges now. My appetite has skyrocketed now but luckily my boobs are not as tender anymore, thank god-"

In the background, you heard someone call Jenna's name. She sighed before turning back to the camera, "I have to get back on set but I just wanted to give you a quick update on us. I miss you and two months need to come quicker" Jenna said and kissed the camera. You smiled at the video and rewatched it again.

NYC 🩵:

miss you too 😘❤️

i also want some oranges now

"You know for two people to say that they’re just friends. Yall sure do act like a couple." Davis asked.

“No we don’t. Two friends can’t say they miss each other now” You questioned.

“I’m not talking about that. It’s your body language and the way you act around each other that’s unfriendly like” Davis said.

You suck your teeth, “You go to Hollywood and become an expert in body language and shit.”

“I’m just saying. The two of you need to stop whatever the fuck this is and just get together.” Davis shrugged.

You sighed, “You don’t think I want that. I haven’t been in a relationship in mad long. But something feels different with her like different in a way I never felt in a relationship before. I miss her being around, talking to her, and even just showing her around the Bronx. It's weird feeling this way...a good weird.” You finished off the blunt in your hand.

"It's called love nigga" Davis laughed.

“Alright let’s settle down. That’s a big word to be assuming” You said.

Davis chuckled, “Have your ever been in love before?”

You open your mouth to answer yes but you stop yourself and really think if you actually been in love or not. Sure you’ve been in relationships with girls before but they never made you feel like this. You never felt this way about a girl before.

“I’m guessing that’s a no” Davis chuckled.

“Shut up” You grumble and placed your hands in your pants. You get comfortable on your couch letting the effects of the marijuana relax your mind and body. Davis started drifting off to sleep next to you. But suddenly, your mind starts to overthink about the prior conversation.

Shit, now this was gonna be on your mind all night.

🤰🏻🩵

a/n: i want someone to take care of me like that black woman be taking care of her pitbull on TikTok

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu @zaclewiss @yescruzzzzzzz @silentfor @gemz5 @alwaysdangerouschild @onceblinkarmyandmore @melonfruit442 @zataracloud @nepobaby08 @jennasslut @rimaybank @jaewu @j3nc0re

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #g!p reader #nycxhollywood #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x oc #jenna ortega x you #Spotify

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syrupgirl · 2 years

Note

this is a request lol but i havent seen really anything on the ATWOW characters and a chubby!human reader. like would they like her belly? would they like how “squishy” she is? what are your thoughts on this:)❤️

a/n: wasn’t sure if I should interpret this as a full fic request or just my thoughts so i mixed the two and turned in more of a hc direction! I also tried to keep this written in a way that could be perceived as either romantic or platonic (Tuk is most definitely platonic tho) :p

The beautiful bodies we are in -assorted ATWOW characters

As a general rule of thumb, I think all of the characters would be a lil curious, as all Na’vi we have seen have been quite slender. But I truthfully can’t see anyone of them being anything but generally indifferent towards readers body type :)

JAKE

Jake wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

๑༄ ‧₊˚Like I said, I can’t see anyone being feeling any type of negative way about a reader’s body and that applies to Jake, too. If, for whatever reason, you were insecure about your body because of your weight or size, he would comfort you the best he could.

NEYTIRI

Has you in high regard because she believes you’re absolutely stunning

๑༄ ‧₊˚Don’t ask me where this came from, but I just think Neytiri would find you absolutely gorgeous. Not in the ‘awwww so adorable like a puppy’ way but ‘Oh my goodness you are ethereal’

NETEYAM

Fascinated but then just treats you like he would anyone else :)

๑༄ ‧₊˚ Depending on whether you grew up with the Sully’s (like Spider) or you met them later in life, they would have different ‘first impressions’ when it comes to your body type! Growing up with them from a young child, he would probably just know that human bodies behave differently to Na’vi bodies and that’s normal. If you were introduced when he was a bit older, he might ask a few questions, like, is there a reason for it? but after you explained that it is just how your body is for no particular reason, he would just say okay! and happily move on with his day

KIRI

Small, silent, fascination to respect and love

๑༄ ‧₊˚My homegirl Kiri, hard to get a read on her tbh. Again, NOTHING negative. EVER. She might ask if it is an evolutionary thing for humans? To which you would answer no, not really, just how my body grows and she would understand that and stop the questioning. Would hate to make you uncomfortable in any way or make you feel alienated or estranged so probably doesn’t comment on your body much after that or at all.

LO’AK

Possibly less…restrictive with his questions but not less respectful in the end

๑༄ ‧₊˚He probably runs the risk of asking an innocent question in a direct way that is really fkn rude like ‘why do you look like that?’ when what he really means is ‘hey, why is your body different than mine? that’s interesting’ If he could see you took offence, he would immediately apologise and try to formulate his question better. Much like his mother, I think he adores you and your body to no end. I also feel like he would say ‘there’s more of you to love’ and would like to be touching you all the time. Likes to lay on your tumtum and talk to you

TUKTIREY

she’s just a babyyyy my babbyyyy

๑༄ ‧₊˚ Whether or not you were around since she was small(er) or not, I don’t think she would have any types of feelings since she’s so liddle. Maybe a frequent series of hugs now and then and a you’re so warm and soft muttered into your stomach while she’s smushed there but that’s just normal for her.

TONOWARI

This man…I love this man and he loves you

๑༄ ‧₊˚Like Neytiri, you would be his deity. Maybe it’s me projecting how I want to be worshipped by this blue alien but good golly miss molly. He loves every little bit of you and just wants to hug and squeeze you all the time. I have to stop before I gush over him too much (also yes, it would be hard to take this in a platonic sense even tho i said i would try to keep it neutral 💀)

RONAL

I don’t have a good grasp on m’lady Ronal

๑༄ ‧₊˚She is just a skeptical lady, you could probably catch her looking at you out of the corner of your eye and she doesn’t even bother looking away once you’ve caught her. Her interest about your body isn’t based on anything negative ofc just complete fascination.

a/n: while writing this, I tried to not alienate the reader because of their size as I know that just isn’t on. I truly hope I didn’t cross any lines <3 If you would like this same concept with a specific character, feel free to send in a request :p

#avatar fanfiction #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #ronal x reader #tonowari x reader #neteyam #lo’ak #jake sully #kiri #tuktirey #chubby!reader

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mermaidgirl30 · 7 months

Text

✨Enchant Me Chapter 2: The First Date✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I love writing this series so much and can’t get over how cute these two are 🥹 I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this one and hope you enjoy!!

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go on your first date 💜

Pairing: Joel x witchy fem! reader

Word Count: 9k

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Tags: Mutual pining, flirting, first date, Joel buys reader a flower, Joel visits reader’s tea shop, star gazing, first kiss, falling in love, so much fluff, chapter is in both Joel and reader’s POV

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel can’t seem to keep his mind focused the next day at work. He only thinks of you, your hypnotizing eyes, your beautiful smile, your sweet, delicate soul. It’s all he sees, all he hears as your infectious laugh floats dreamily through his mind. It’s you. You, you, you.

He needs to see you again, needs to hear your melodic voice as you talk endlessly about your love of roses and teas. He can’t stop smiling, can’t stay still as he paces back and forth restlessly inside his wooden shop. Tommy doesn’t take long to catch on as he knows something’s up.

“Joel, you alright there? You’ve been pacing back and forth this entire mornin’. And your face, are you actually smilin’?” he laughs as he leans up against the register and slicks his long, greasy styled hair back.

“Everything’s good, Tommy. Just peachy,” Joel calls from across the store as he comes up to the worn register, meddling mindlessly with a stack of colorful pens in a glass cup that sits next to the computer screen.

“It’s her, ain’t it?” he smirks.

“Who?” Joel asks like he has no earthly idea what Tommy is rambling about, but he sure as hell knows who he’s talking about. He’s talking about his enchantress.

“You know damn well who I’m talkin’ ‘bout, Miller,” he smirks with a raised eyebrow as he points his index finger at Joel. A sure sign that he caught him in a lie. “The girl you delivered that table to. I told ya, didn’t I? She’s a beauty that one.”

Joel runs a hand through his unruly curls and stares at the linoleum floor, eyes slowly reaching up to meet Tommy’s view. He sighs, knowing lying won’t do him any good. “Yeah, it’s her. She really is somethin’ unique. She’s gorgeous,” Joel gushes as a small smile curls against the edges of his lips, his cheeks turning slightly red as he imagines your soft smile, your gentle touch, your eccentric beauty, your everything.

“Oh, man. You’ve got it bad, brother. Look at you blushin’ and smilin’ just thinkin’ ‘bout her,” he teases as he hits Joel playfully in the arm. “You gonna see her again?” he asks with his eyebrows knitting together, eyes hounding Joel for more information.

Joel doesn’t even take a second to contemplate his answer, he just lays it out flat. “Yes.” There’s no question about it. “You know she has a tea shop just a few minutes up the street?”

“No, I didn’t. That seems to suit her perfectly though. You should stop by at lunch today. Go see her,” he encourages Joel.

Joel contemplates his options carefully. Would you want to see him? Is it too soon? No, definitely not too soon. He paces back and forth for a minute, flexing his fingers together as nerves pull in his stomach. When he stops at the counter again, he makes a decision.

“You know what, Tommy? I think I will,” he decides.

Tommy comes around the register and gives Joel a strong pat on the back. “Proud of you, brother. Go get her,” he smirks.

Right as the clock hits noon, Joel practically runs out the door as he unlocks his truck and starts the engine up. The truck roars to life as he drives it carefully out of the empty parking lot and into the busy streets of Austin.

The day is sunny and warm, the wind barely blowing as its howls echo through the dry air. He stops at a red light and taps his fingers against the leather steering wheel, eager to get to the tea shop, to you.

In just a few short minutes, he’s pulling up to the parking lot of his destination. The place he’ll find you, his enchantress.

As he gets out of the truck and closes the door, he takes in the dainty sign that reads Starlight’s Corner. The sign is a light shade of purple, a little crescent moon in the corner of the S as it sits neatly above the storefront.

When he walks in, chimes carry softly through the lit up store as he passes through. A golden moon star crystal suncatcher hangs right next to the glass door, carrying sparkling beams of light that make little shadows appear against the cream colored walls.

“Be right out!” you call from the back of the store as you hear the wispy wind chimes call your name. “Just finishing up this batch of tea. I’ll be right with you!”

Just the sound of your voice makes his skin crawl with goosebumps. He loves the sound of it, a sweet heavenly sound he could listen to all day long. It’s so very dreamy, misty.

He walks around the quaint little store, taking in the whimsical surroundings that fill your space. Tall white shelves line each corner as decorative tea cups and kettles sit displayed in neat rows. Pictures of green forests, colorful butterflies, and different phases of moons paint the walls in a sea of vibrant colors. Bags of all kinds of herbal teas sit out amongst the front of the butcher block counter.

Joel traces his fingers over a row of books that are all about the history of tea and then his eyes slide along the back counter where different containers of brewed tea sit out for customers to buy. The air smells like home baked goods and cinnamon as a plate of sugar cookies and blueberry scones sit wafting inside a closed up container by the register.

He takes another walk around the little shop and smiles to himself as he trails his finger along a dark display case of sparkling crystals that seem to glisten in his eyes. The vibrant orchid flowers spilling over the edges as he remembers you telling him about these kinds of flowers yesterday. He shakes his head, chuckling quietly at how much you probably love this little shop. This place is so unique, special. It’s so very… you.

“Hi, there. What can I…” your voice trails off as soon as you see him. Joel.

Joel turns around and faces you, his breath catching as soon as he sees your face. Today you’re in a light pink sundress, the skirt just barely grazing the bottom of your creamy thighs. The strapless v-shape of the dress dipping as it hugs your soft curves perfectly. Your hair is down today, silky locks ending in soft curls as they kiss your shoulders.

Your lips are berry stained red, glittery eyeshadow raining down as the glitter seems to bring out the vibrant colors of your eyes even more. And then that soft smile pulls at your lips when you realize it’s him. He thinks he’s about to fall to his knees, thinks you’re absolutely stunning, a vision only the gods should be worthy of.

Joel thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The prettiest enchantress he’s ever laid eyes on. Enchant me. The words echo through his head on repeat like a broken record. He would be so lucky if you were his. So very lucky. He just had to have you.

Please, be mine. Be mine.

“Oh, Joel,” you say with a lilt to your soft tone. “Hi.” You give him a dreamy smile and bat your long eyelashes at him. It nearly takes him out.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he drawls out, a sideways smile appearing lazily over his mouth. You can’t seem to take your eyes off him.

“Didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing here?” you ask as you stand behind the counter smiling up at him.

He clears his throat and rolls the sleeves of his green button-up flannel up, walking over toward you as he places his hands on the edge of the counter. “Thought I’d drop by on my lunch break to see your shop. I was cravin’ some of that delicious sweet tea you made yesterday, was hopin’ you’d have some brewed up when I got here,” he smiles, making tingles run clear down your spine.

“Oh, you liked my tea so much you just had to stop by today?” you flirt, your eyes beaming into his as he stands right across the counter from you, so close but not close enough.

“That’s right, darlin’. Couldn’t stay away from that pretty face of yours,” he blushes as he runs a hand straight through his curls, feeling the back of his neck burn with heat.

He never flirted like this before with anyone. Not until he met you.

“Oh,” you giggle, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “What’s your favorite kind of tea? I have plenty of flavors,” you say as you move your arm to the back counter and trail your fingers over each container. “I have anything from chai tea to green tea to black tea to sweet tea and so much more.”

Joel watches you move along the back counter as your dress swishes around you fluidly. He thinks you look like you belong in a painting, a masterpiece at best with the way your hair falls over your shoulders and your sun kissed skin from the garden seems to glow in the haze of the store lights.

“I usually just get sweet tea, but I’d take anything, darlin’. Give me whatever you think I’d like best,” he says easily.

You purse your lips and let your eyes fall over his tanned arms and soft brown eyes, his thick fingers sprawled over the edge of the counter as you have to fight yourself to not reach your hand out to his. You quickly assess him, taking your best guess.

“Hmmm,” you hum. “Do you like peach flavored drinks?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Perfect. I think you’ll like this one then,” you answer as you grab a compostable cup and fill it with your specially made herbal peach tea that you put a little extra love and care into making today. You turn and hand Joel the cup as his fingers graze along yours, making your fingertips tingle with fiery sensations.

You watch him tilt his head back as his curls fall into a tousled heap. You watch the orange liquid slowly disappear as he gulps it down, leaving half the cup empty. He wipes his mouth clean and sighs as he looks back up at you, his caramel eyes beaming into yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t know how you do it, but your tea is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You’ve got a gift.”

You bat your eyelashes at him and shake your head nonchalantly. “You’re too kind, Joel. Here, let me pour you some more.” You grab his cup and fill it back to the rim, carefully handing it over to him as he takes it with a thank you leaving his mouth.

“Here,” he says as he digs in his wallet and takes out a five dollar bill, placing his closed fist on the counter as he tries to give you money.

“Oh, no, Joel. You don’t owe me anything,” you say as you try to wave him off.

“Gotta pay for it, darlin’. Here, take it,” he insists as he pushes his hand further over the smooth wooden counter.

“No, really. Joel, don’t. I don’t want your money,” you say, refusing the green bill as you place your hand gently over his, pushing it back toward him.

He feels your smooth hand slide over his as your soft skin mixes into the roughness of his. He swears his heart skips a beat as you hold your hand over his. He’s unwilling to move, unwilling to do anything except stare into your breathtaking eyes.

“You sure, sweetheart?” he asks with knit eyebrows as he leans into your gentle touch.

“Positive. Consider it my special discount,” you wink playfully. “You can come get tea whenever you like, Joel. I don’t want your money though.”

“No? What do you want then?” he asks as he leans against the counter, your hand still clasped over his tightly as you lean closer to him.

“Just your company is enough for me,” you say quietly.

You feel the room suddenly go still as you’re so very close to him now. So close that just an inch more and you’d be grazing your lips against his. You can almost taste his flavor, peach tea collecting on his lips as you see the sheen liquid cover his bottom lip. He looks so inviting, so very tempting. And you’d really like for him to break the distance and kiss you now.

Kiss me. Please, kiss me.

Suddenly the moment is broken as you hear the door chime loudly as a customer walks in. You pull your hand away from Joel’s and watch him take a few steps back, fingers dragging through his salt and pepper scruff as he takes a breath and moves out of the way of the front of the counter.

“Hi, welcome in,” you smile, feeling your cheeks burn red from the interrupted moment between you and Joel. You wish it wouldn’t have been interrupted. Would he have kissed you? It seemed like he kind of wanted to.

You look up and see who it is, noticing one of your favorite customers as he walks in with a button-up yellow Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. “Oh, Tony! Nice to see you,” you shout as he comes over to give you a quick hug hello.

“There’s my favorite tea maker! Mary said to tell you hello. She’s out sick today with a bad cold, so I thought I’d grab her some of her favorite tea,” he announces as he pushes the wide rimmed gold glasses up to his nose, his grey hair fluffing up from the wind.

“Oh no, poor thing. Tell her I’m thinking of her. Here, take a scone for her. I know she loves them.”

Joel watches the interactions between the older man and you, observing the way you carefully package up a blueberry scone and get a gallon of green tea prepared. He trails his hand along one of the glass displays with intricate tea sets inside and watches the way you smile carefree as you cash the man out and talk fondly of your garden.

“You will have to drop by sometime to help Mary with her sunflowers. The poor things dried up immediately last spring when she planted them. I know she’d love your company,” Tony says as he takes the white sack of scones and grips the gallon of green tea in his other hand steadily.

“I’d love to! Anytime she wants me to come help her in the garden, just give me a call. I’d be more than happy to help. They probably just needed a little more shade and water. A little love goes a long way,” you smile.

Joel stares at you, watching the way your infectious smile seems to light up the room as you talk of sunflowers and gardening. He thinks you’re so soft, so gentle the way you care for others. And you’re so sweet. Sweeter than the peach tea Joel just drank down. The tea that you gave him.

Soft. That’s exactly what you are, and Joel can’t help but to fall harder for you in that moment. His little enchantress. You enchanted him.

When the customer walks out the door and the wind chimes stop singing, Joel moves back up to the counter and places his cup full of peach tea down on the smooth surface. He pushes a curl out of his face and starts the conversation up again.

“Thanks for the tea again, sweetheart. You didn’t have to give it to me for free,” he chuckles as he embeds his fingers into the edge of the wood.

“Joel,” you give him a knowing look, “you heard me. Please, just take the tea,” you laugh, crossing your arms over your smooth dress as you smile over at the man with pretty brown eyes.

“Fine. But I owe you,” he states adamantly as a brow lifts in place.

“What do you possibly owe me?” you laugh, letting it echo across the doorway.

“A date.”

Your lips fall open as you suck in a breath. A date. He wants to take you on a date.

“A date?” you ask nervously, hands now fidgeting with your crystal necklace as you try to not bite your lip as nerves flood your insides.

“A date,” he nods, confirming the words. “What about tonight? You doin’ anything tonight?” he asks as his big chocolate eyes look at you with hope pulling in those lavish eyes.

“I was just planning on making some spaghetti tonight, but I’d love it if you came for dinner? Will you come for dinner?” you ask with hope running through your veins.

Please, come for dinner. Let me show you my world.

“Darlin’, I’d love nothing more,” Joel smiles, brown eyes clashing into yours. You’d never been so excited to cook dinner for someone. “But I’m not lettin’ you cook alone. I’m helpin’. Just tell me what to bring and I’ll bring it.”

“How about you bring some French bread? That’ll do. I have all the other ingredients I need at the house,” you say with your fingers knotting into the skirt of your dress.

He’s coming for dinner.

“Alright, French bread it is,” he nods. “How’s 6:30pm sound to you?”

“Perfect,” you beam.

“Perfect,” Joel echoes back.

Joel looks at the time on his black military watch and huffs out a breath. “Well, I gotta get back to work. Got a customer coming in a few minutes to pick somethin’ up,” he sighs as he picks up his cup of peach tea and taps his fingers against the counter. “Thank you for the tea, sweetheart. Nothin’ tastes as sweet as your tea,” he says sweetly as his eyes flick down to yours.

“You’re welcome, Joel. I’ll be sure to make you some more,” you smile.

His eyes trail over your soft hands then back into your glowing eyes, eyes he wants to wade in forever. He gives you one more smile then starts to head for the glass door, eyes roaming over the room until he gets to the doorway and looks back your way.

“See you tonight, little enchantress.” He winks your way and then disappears out the door, dragging your heartstrings along with him as he leaves your heart beating wildly for him.

You lean against the counter and rest your chin in the palm of your hand, sighing as you watch Joel pull out into the busy street and disappearing down the road. You can’t wait to see him tonight.

You’re having a date with Joel Miller. This was the most exciting day of your life.

You open the purple shutters and crack the windows, letting the burning sage flood out into the crisp evening air as you light lavender candles in the space of the dim lit living room. Soft music plays through the air as the smell of blueberry muffins cooking in the oven waft through the lit up kitchen. As you pass Oliver in the long hallway, you bend down and scratch behind his orange ears before you pad off to your bedroom.

The scent of vanilla lingers through the room as the blown out candles still drift softly through the air. You turn the overhead light on and stand in front of your mirror, smoothing out your pink sundress and slipping the bristles of the sparkly pink brush through your soft locks of hair.

You touch up your makeup and paint some glossy red lip gloss over your lips, puckering them together before taking one last look at yourself. You straighten the crystal amethyst necklace on your neck and spritz a dash of lavender perfume on before you spin in a circle and decide you’re ready. Joel will be here any minute.

You turn off the lights and leave the room as the timer on the oven goes off, signaling the muffins are finished baking. You shove some scarlet oven mitts on and take the muffins out, setting them on top of the stove to let them cool off. They’re fresh, fluffy, and smell delicious. You just hope Joel would love them. Maybe he’d want to take some home with him.

Just as you start to boil some water and set the various ingredients out for the spaghetti, you hear the rumble of his truck and see his bright headlights shine through the window. He’s here. You see the truck lights go off and hear the squeak of his leather boots against the front porch, and then he’s knocking on your front door.

Your heart starts beating incredibly fast as you pad over to the door and open it quickly, almost letting out a gasp at how good he looks. His tousled curls are slicked back with gel holding them in place, his flannel forgotten as he wears a denim button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone, exposing his large neck as tanned skin peeks through. Dark washed jeans cling to his strong legs, and you can’t help but stare at what he holds in his hand. A single red rose.

He brought you a rose.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Don’t you look pretty,” he gushes as he holds out the blood red rose for you, his smile lingering on his handsome face as his deep brown eyes stare back at you endearingly. You reach your hand out and take it, letting your fingers brush over his as a chill runs through your insides.

“You got me a rose?” you ask quietly, completely melting at the fact that he even thought to get you one.

“I did. I saw it in the store when I was picking up some French bread, and it just got me thinkin’ of you.” He blushes shyly and brushes past your shoulder while you close the door behind him, watching him set the bread down on the little oak table in the corner.

It got me thinkin’ of you. Joel’s so charming, so sweet.

“Thank you. That was really sweet,” you smile dizzily as you inhale the sweet scent and set it down on your glass coffee table.

“It was nothin’. Consider it a small token of my appreciation for the tea today,” he replies, eyes finding yours as he walks into the kitchen. “Blueberry muffins? Now how did you know those were my favorite, darlin’?” he grins as his eyes roam over the fresh muffins and then back up to you.

“I was hoping you’d like them. Go on and try one. I just took them out of the oven a few minutes ago,” you say as you walk to the edge of the counter, your hands sliding over the smooth surface as you watch him pick one up and take a bite.

You watch him swallow the first bite and it’s like his eyes light up as they go wide, turning slowly toward you as he parts his plush lips. “These are the best muffins I’ve ever tasted! Holy shit. What all did you put in these?” he asks as he takes another large bite until it’s completely gone.

“Oh, you know. Just my love and care,” you giggle as you let the flirtation flit through the air.

He just shakes his head as you hear him chuckle, the sound reverberating through your soul. “Well, sweetheart, they’re incredible.”

“I’d make you some anytime you wanted,” you say quickly without even thinking. He just smiles and nods, the edge of his lips curling up to expose a dreamy smile.

He’s so handsome.

“Might take you up on that,” he laughs.

“So, dinner?” you ask as you wind around to the stove and start to pour the noodles into the boiling water. “If you want to open the can of marinara sauce for me, I’d really appreciate it. Need a big, strong man to twist the lid off for me,” you flirt, giggling to yourself as you internally kick your feet in the air.

“That so, darlin’?” he laughs as he grabs the can and twists the lid off with almost no effort. It’s too easy for him.

You shake your head and smile to yourself. “Made it look too easy.”

“Nah. Was a piece of cake,” he shrugs. “Maybe you just need a man around here more often. You know, to help ya out if you need help fixin’ something or something breaks or just need a pair of hands to help you in the garden.”

“Oh, really? Think I know anyone that would want to do that?” you ask, smiling as you finish mixing the noodles in, letting them simmer over the boiling water.

“I don’t know, darlin’. Might just ask whoever you gave that purple rose to,” he smirks.

He’s flirting and he’s funny and he’s so charming. You like him so much already.

“Maybe I will,” you say shyly back, the smile staying on your face as you spend the next half hour preparing dinner with Joel.

The two of you pass each other by, sliding against the back of the counter as your hands gently brush one another’s, your hip bumping up against his as small apologies and infectious smiles fill the little kitchen space. His eyes never quite leave your face as he chops some tomatoes, his sappy brown eyes flicking up to yours every few seconds. And you can’t stop laughing, can’t stop smiling as he tells you silly little jokes and sends sweet compliments your way.

You think you like this. Having someone to cook with, to laugh with, to have fun with. You’ve barely scratched the surface with Joel, and it’s like it’s as clear as day. You two would be the perfect match. He compliments you so very well, and you’ve already decided you wouldn’t mind if he’d just come back again and again and again.

When dinner is finally served, Joel sits next to you at the wooden oak table and brushes his knee against yours as you take a bite of the marinated spaghetti. It’s delicious, the spice really bringing out the rich flavors of all the ingredients. You see Joel take his first bite, watching him closely as his eyes get wider the second he lets the noodles slide down his throat. You let out a giggle as your knee lightly knocks against his.

“Sweetheart, I’ve gotta say everything you touch is magic. Your tea, your muffins, your spaghetti. Everything,” he drawls proudly as he takes a sip of the hibiscus tea you made just for him.

“You helped me cook dinner,” you reply with one eyebrow arched up as you spin your fork around the thin noodles.

“Yeah, but still. Your creations in the kitchen are to die for,” he smiles as he takes another big bite. The red sauce spills down his chin and without thinking you reach your thumb out and wipe it off, placing your finger in your mouth as you lick it clean. He puts his fork down and just looks at you, eyes fixed intently on your lips as you feel warmth flood your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you inadvertently apologize, pushing your hand under the table as you latch on to the hem of your dress. Why did you do that?

“S’alright. Nothin’ to apologize for, sweetheart.”

There’s a heaviness in the air. Something like thick tension and slight fog that wraps around your head. He scoots his leg over and it gently brushes over yours as you feel tingles slide along your entire leg, feeling your nerves fire off as you quickly break the tension.

“Right…” you trail off, eyes going back to the plate of spaghetti. Just before you twirl more noodles on your fork, Joel reaches out and drags a thick finger over your shiny crystal hanging from your neck, making you gasp at the contact.

“S’pretty. What kind of crystal is it?” he asks curiously as his thumb drags along the smooth edges of the crystal.

“It’s amethyst. One of my favorite kinds of crystals,” you fawn as your eyes stare into those deep pits of honey warmth. Swooning as his fingers continue to graze the necklace. His eyes flick up to yours as a smile tugs up the corners of his mouth.

“I guess I should’ve known by now. It’s purple and it makes those pretty eyes of yours glow even brighter, little enchantress,” he calls out, making your insides coat with warmth.

Little enchantress.

He’s so dreamy.

“Oh, thank you,” you quietly respond as you feel your cheeks redden from his lingering eyes. “You always have a way with words, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t take much, sweetheart. You’re just very… beautiful is all,” he smiles.

Beautiful? Oh. Oh my.

“Beautiful…” you repeat back, lost in a daze as his words repeat over and over in your brain in a never ending cycle.

“That’s right. Beautiful.”

There’s that tension again. The one that makes your head swim and your heart race a million miles per hour. And there’s those eyes again. Those deep brown eyes that seem to stare straight into your longing soul. His foot curls under yours, the side of his thigh pressing heavily against yours. A simple affection that makes your heart spiral out of control.

For a second you think he might lean in, but then he clears his throat and sits up straighter as he notices Oliver tip-toeing under the table as his little feet pad against the dark wood.

“Hi, Oliver,” you say with a greeting as you reach down to rub his furry head. Joel just watches you, a smile tugging at his mouth as his eyes wander back down to Oliver. “You gonna go say hi to Joel?” you ask as he steps over to Joel and rubs up against the edge of his ankle, purring his hello as he heads into the kitchen.

“He definitely likes you,” you nod as you find Joel chuckling to himself.

“Yeah, you think so?”

“I know so,” you confirm.

Another deep chuckle rumbles out of his chest as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Sarah would never believe this.”

The gears in your head start to grind, bringing questions up that you don’t know the answers to. “Sarah? Who’s Sarah?” you ask cautiously as you tap the fork lightly against the glass plate.

“Oh,” he says with a nervous expression as he slides a hand through his slicked back curls. “She’s uh… well, she’s my daughter,” he says quietly as he looks up through the fringe of his dark eyelashes.

Daughter? He has a daughter?

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” you say sweetly, lips curling into a smile as it seems to relax his stance. “How old is she?”

“She just turned twenty this year. She’s a sophomore in college now. My little girl is growing up,” he says as he bites his lower lip, probably trying not to get too emotional as he thinks about it. He must be such a good father. That smile. That majestic, radiant smile. He must love her so much. He is a good father.

“Do you have a picture of her?” you ask, trying to dig inside his chest and find out every single thing about him.

“Oh, yeah. Got one on my phone, just a second,” he says as he digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera roll and stops on one picture as he holds the phone out to you. “That’s me and her last summer at the lake. She’s almost as tall as me,” he laughs casually.

You look at the picture and take in the surroundings. Clear blue water, bright skies, and kayaks. Joel stands in a light blue t-shirt and black swim trunks, and his daughter stands next to him. Tall, thin, long curly hair that passes down to her shoulders. They look so happy in the picture. He must love her a lot.

“She’s really pretty,” you smile.

“Yeah, she is,” he beams, his crooked smile pushing a dimple into view as you nearly swoon at the sight.

He’s so handsome.

Thoughts of her mother come into focus. A mother. Was Joel married before? Was she still in the picture? Was he still seeing her? You push down the negative thoughts and press on. “And the mother? Is there… is there anyone in the picture?” you ask cautiously, stepping over lily pads in a crocodile infested swamp.

He huffs out a sigh and shakes his head. “No. She uhh… she left a couple days after Sarah was born. Said she never wanted to be a mother, didn’t want the responsibility of her. So she left her with me. Haven’t seen her since.”

She left? How could anyone want to leave Joel? He’s so good, so perfect. You couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to leave him.

He chokes back a muted response, and you see just the slightest hint of a wet tear swimming in his eye. You didn't want to upset him, you never want to upset him.

You slide your hand on top of his and curl your fingers around him. “I’m so sorry, Joel. That must’ve been so awful. I can’t… I can’t even imagine anyone wanting to leave you or her. I’m so, so sorry,” you apologize through thick words, knitting your brows together as a look of concern washes over your face.

He leans forward, placing his other hand on top of yours as he squeezes gently. “No, don’t apologize, darlin’. S’not your fault she left. It was probably for the best. Me and Sarah got along just fine without her. So don’t worry. I’m alright,” he responds as he slowly gulps a lump down in his throat. He might say he’s okay, but you can see just a tad of sadness behind those honey eyes. And you want to take that away, make the pain go away forever.

“I just hate hearing that. How could she hurt you like that? I couldn’t… I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” You freeze, realizing just what you said as fear strikes your insides. You said too much. You said too much.

As if he sees the fear inside your eyes, he squeezes the top of your hand as a gentle smile spreads wide over his beautiful face. “No, I don’t imagine you would, sweetheart.”

You blush at that, and he continues on. “But enough about that. What about you?” he asks curiously, eyebrows raising as he waits for an answer.

“What about me?”

“How can a gorgeous girl like you not be taken by someone already?” he asks, patiently waiting as his fingertips brush lightly over yours.

Gorgeous. There’s that word again.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve dated, really. Guys aren’t… well, guys these days aren’t very nice. My last ex told me I was ridiculous for collecting crystals and spending my days in the garden. Kinda hurt my feelings,” you say quietly as you purse your lips and knit your eyebrows together, trying not to get too in your head over the whole ordeal.

“Ridiculous, huh? That boy was a fool,” Joel spits as anger flashes like fire through his eyes. “Any boy who broke your heart had no idea what a sweet, beautiful girl you are. Frankly, they’re fuckin’ blind. I mean look at you. You’re the most stunning girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Your gardening and collections make you unique. And you are, you’re so unique. You shine so bright like a diamond in the rough, little enchantress,” he purrs, his honey eyes melting into yours as you nearly sink to the floor in a wet, muddled puddle.

Unique, diamond in the rough, stunning, beautiful.

Soft. He’s so soft.

You’re speechless, mouth hanging open as your eyes water over. He’s so good, so very gentle and sweet. And if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you sure as hell have now. Soft. Joel is so… soft.

“I… uh… thank you, Joel,” you whisper out, nearly tumbling over your own words as you try to get a hold of yourself.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He holds your gaze and slowly squeezes your hand again as his knee knocks gently against yours. You look over at the clock and see that it’s nearly 9:00pm. About the time when all the fireflies are out dancing in the flower fields. You get the perfect idea then as you straighten up in your chair.

“Do you want to go see the stars?” you ask excitedly, eyes getting big at the thought of Joel stargazing with you.

“See the stars?” he asks with an intrigued expression over his warm face.

“Yeah, in the backyard. They’re so pretty out here, and tonight there’s barely any clouds so you can probably see the Big Dipper,” you smile.

Please, say yes. Take my hand and watch the stars with me.

“Yeah, I like stars,” he confirms with a nod. “Gonna teach me a thing or two about the constellations?” he asks eagerly as a warm smile slips beautifully over his handsome face.

“What do you think?” you smirk, eyes full of wonder as he takes you in.

He chuckles, pulling back his chair as he stands and holds his hand out to you. “Well, c’mon then, enchantress. Show me your world,” he smiles.

Show me your world. He wants to see your world. He wants to know you. The real you.

You smile and grab a large blue blanket as you let him lead you out the back door, your hand in his as he holds it tight. It feels good, feels warm, feels so right in yours. And you know then that this is more than a date. He’s someone you want to keep seeing again and again and again. And you hope he stays, you hope he wants to stay for you.

Please, stay.

You walk ahead of him and keep your hand curled around his, leading him down the cobblestone path as you make your way under the wooden garden arbor. The green vines catch your shoulder as you walk past, and the red rose bushes blow gently through the night breeze.

LED lights glow along the winding path as fairy lights glow in the near distance, their lights bursting through tall flower beds and scented rose lilies. Tree frogs sing their night song as crickets chirp back and forth through the green grass, their voices echoing in the distance as you continue walking through your dreamy garden.

You feel Joel’s eyes roam around your colorful garden, wildflowers sprawled every which way as shades of blue, pink, purple, red, and every other color meets your gaze. A look of surprise and maybe even wonder flit past his eyes, his mouth opening as he takes in the glowing fairy lights and the flickering fireflies that dance all through the painted flower beds.

“Wow, this is really somethin’. Looks like I stepped into a fairytale,” he laughs as his brown eyes land on you. “You did all this?”

“Mhm,” you nod as you stand still and look around the lit up garden, your hand falling from his as you trail your index finger over a soft white tulip in the ground. “It’s my own little sanctuary.”

“Must’ve taken you a long time, I’m guessin’,” he answers as he drags a hand through his wind blown curls, looking so ridiculously good as his eyes train on you.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. I still have a lot I want to do. Like I still need to find a bench that I can place right over there.” You point to the middle of the garden, right in front of tall vines of grapes and berries as a bundle of sunflowers sit behind that.

Joel flicks his eyes to where you point and then back to you. “Oh? You been lookin’ for one?” he asks curiously as he crosses his arms and takes one step forward, his leather boots crunching in the lush green grass as he takes another. One step closer to you.

“For quite some time,” you sigh.

“Anywhere particular you’ve been lookin’?” he asks with one eyebrow cocking up, taking one step closer to you as he crunches against the soft ground.

“I’ve looked everywhere it seems. I’ve been to every hardware store around town, looked at endless websites until I scrolled through every page I could. Just nothing has stood out to me. Guess I just haven’t found what I want yet,” you say quietly, another huff leaving your chest as you stare at the vacant spot where you envision the perfect wooden bench.

Joel stands there looking where you are and then back at you, feet shifting their weight against the ground as he gulps before asking. “What do ya want?” he asks softly, eyes trailing over to you as you slowly turn and grin up to him.

“I don’t know. I guess I envision maybe a teak garden bench where the sides are open. Maybe flowers somewhere on the bench. Something more personalized than anything else I’ve seen. I just want it more… me. You know?” you say dreamily as you daydream about the perfect garden bench.

Joel looks at you carefully, eyeing you closely as you gaze around the lit up garden. His lips twitch, but no words come out of his mouth. He’s thinking hard about something, gears grinding in his head of things you can’t quite discern. But he looks like he wants to say something, maybe even do something.

Something swirls in his eyes as his eyebrows thread together and his fingers flex against his palm, concentration seeping through his broad shoulders. He wants to tell you something, but he just grits his teeth and shakes his head. Whatever he wanted to say was gone now.

“Well, enough about that. Come on, the best viewing spot is over here.” You hug the blanket closer to your chest as you lead him to an open field with wildflowers spread in a big circles around you, encumbering you with floral scents that you can almost taste flying through the thick air. You lay the blanket out carefully and sit down, patting the spot next to you as Joel quickly joins you on the blanket, his body just a few inches from yours.

Joel looks up as the stars shine bright in every direction, encasing the dark sky in trickles of light. “Wow. You definitely don’t see stars like this in the middle of the city,” he says with awe as he leans further back against his hands, his button-up pulling at his bulging biceps.

“Yeah. That’s why I love it out here so much. You can see the stars every single night, and it’s just absolutely lovely.”

You lay back against the soft blanket, your head resting on the ground as you sigh and take in the sparkling stars in the sky. They seem to shine extra bright tonight, like diamonds in the sky. And maybe it’s because Joel’s here, like the stars know it’s an extra special night. Your first date, the best night you’ve had in a long time.

“Hey, isn’t that the Big Dipper?” he asks as he points high in the sky, finding the biggest and brightest star in the night sky. And he’s right. It is the Big Dipper.

“You’re right, that’s it,” you beam with excitement. “You know about stars?” you ask as he looks down at you while he leans against his elbows.

“Just a little. Not anything like you though. You’re probably an expert in that too, aren’t ya?” he asks with an amused look on his face.

You shrug, giving him a shy smile as you dig your fingers into the blanket. “I mean, I do know a lot. I have a couple of books on stars,” you blush nervously, not wanting him to know just how much you have studied the stars in your spare time.

“Don’t be coy, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide from me. Go on now, tell me how much you know,” he coaxes as his eyes meet yours, all warm and welcoming as he smirks down at you playfully. You can’t help but giggle as he tries to ease it out of you. And that’s it, you can’t hold back from him.

“Okay then, you’re right. I do know a lot about stars. In fact, I have a few books on my shelf in my room. Might even have a telescope somewhere in my closet,” you stammer out, cheeks flushed as he stares at you silently, eyes gazing into yours.

“‘Course ya do, darlin’. Such a smart girl,” he purrs out, making you blush even more at his kind compliment.

Your eyes wander back to the sky as you search for the constellations. It doesn’t take you very long to spot one instantly as your voice grows louder than before. “Hey, look! Up there. Do you see those four stars connecting together, kind of in a slant?” you ask as you point to the sky.

Joel looks up, but doesn’t see where you point. “Where at, darlin’? Can’t quite see it.”

“If you come down here maybe you’d see it,” you laugh, your voice carrying through the wind as a lone firefly lights up over the corner of the blanket.

“Maybe you’re right,” he murmurs. He lays back against the the blanket as his shoulder brushes yours, chills running down your spine as you can smell his woodsy scent swirling all around you. It’s almost too much. He smells so good, and you wish you could bottle it up and release it all through your cozy room. Have his scent draped across your pillow so you could breathe him in every night.

“Now, show me where you were pointing again.”

You point back to the constellation as his eyes follow your finger, closely monitoring the sky as he squints just a bit and finally sees what you’re seeing. “Oh, I think I see it now.”

“That’s Aries. The ram. There’s a whole story on how Aries got its name, but I won’t bore you on that subject,” you reply, eyes floating through the stars as you try to find another one.

“You couldn’t bore me, sweetheart. You can talk about it as much as you want, doesn’t bother me. Like hearin’ you talk about things you love,” he responds with a lilt to his voice. Soft, quiet, assertive as he drops his head to the side and flicks his eyes over to you. You look over at him and smile back, eyes quickly scanning back over the sky.

“If you say so,” you giggle. You point back up to the sky and start talking about the stars, pointing out Ursa Minor as you tell him the it’s named Little Bear, going more in depth about the history as your eyes grow wide with excitement when you spot another bright star in the sky. Going on and on about the stars in the big night sky, pouring your heart out as Joel carefully listens to you.

Joel turns his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face as a smile slowly spreads across his lips. He’s captivated, fully immersed in every word you say. His eyes flick over your features, long hair spread across the blanket as your eyes seem to glow as you look up at the stars. He sees the glitter around your eyes sparkle, sees the shine of your lip gloss glistening in the moonlight.

He can’t hear the wind, can’t hear his own breathing. All he hears is your soft voice blowing through the wind, getting warped inside his mind as it sounds like a dreamy tune. Words as delicate as a lullaby as it slowly sends him in a romantic trance. All he sees is you, all he can think about is you as his mind says your name over and over and over again. He sees your beauty, your passion, your entire heart. He sees you, just you. And he knows he’s fallen. He’s fallen hard, fast. Maybe too fast, but he doesn’t care. He knows what he wants right then and that’s you. It’s you.

He drops his hand from his chest and it lands against the soft blanket, the back of his hand lingering against yours as he glides it back and forth, brushing ever so softly against your delicate skin. Your breathing speeds up, your throat catching on a sigh as he slowly digs up enough courage to slide his hand into yours, softly entwining his fingers with yours as you feel your heart start to gallop like wild horses running freely through a wide open field.

His hand in yours feels like it’s exactly where it belongs as he brushes his calloused thumb across the back of your hand, time freezing as you feel his eyes staring softly at you. “You know what you remind me of?” he asks as his thumb continues its journey over your skin, your fingers curling around his affectionately.

“What?” you whisper, eyes searching as his shoulder brushes up against you once more and his brown irises fade into yours.

“A binary star.”

You gasp. A binary star. Oh. That’s romantic.

“A binary star?”

“Mhm. Two stars that revolve around each other. Both bound together. Unable to part from the other. Rare. Special…” he purrs as he scoots closer to you, leaning closer, closer, closer until his forehead is grazing yours, brown eyes blazing into yours as his mahogany scent seems to drown you, bathe you in pure bliss as all the stars seem to fade around him. It’s just him now, only him.

“Yeah? You really mean that?” you breathe out, your chest suffocating on nerves and anticipation as he leans in closer, a tousled curl falling against your forehead.

“I mean it, darlin’. You’re a beautiful binary star. My binary star,” he smiles, breath blowing against yours as you see nothing but him. Joel, Joel, Joel.

He called you his beautiful binary star. His.

“Oh,” you quietly elate, gaze falling into his as he comes closer, closer, closer. His hand grazes your jawline, slowly sliding his calloused fingers against delicate skin. And your skin burns for him, igniting the flames as you dance in them, burn in them.

His forehead meets yours, lips brushing up against you as you feel him, smell him, breathe his air. All dizzy with mahogany and pine scents, his brown eyes locking with yours. And you swear you see entire galaxies in his eyes, Heart Nebula etched in his irises, and you see your reflection as clear as day in them. You see yourself embedded in the heart shapes. Brown, warm, calling you to him like you belong right there in his eyes.

His eyes trail down to your glossy lips, lingering there just a second as he dips lower, lower, lower until he’s hovering right there, right where you feel him the most. His eyes linger back to your eyes as you see just how beautiful he shines against the night sky. He’s the only galaxy you see now. Everything else slipping slowly away as his breath consumes you.

And then he smiles. Warm, soft, so ridiculously tender. His calloused fingers cupping your chin as he slowly sinks down. Slowly, so subtly.

“My little enchantress,” he whispers, and then he closes the distance as his lips sink down on yours.

His lips are so soft. Velvet clad lips that seem to melt against yours. The entire world goes silent as the wind seems to halt and the hum of the crickets go mute. It’s just you and Joel caught in this dreamlike, whimsical moment. It’s just you and him, all wrapped up in each other as you slot your lips and allow him access to you. He slips his tongue in slowly, delicately as he traces it over yours. Two souls dancing together as you get lost in his honeydew taste, in his warm embrace as he grazes his thumb against your cheek gently.

Gentle. He’s so very gentle with you, so careful as he continues to trace his lips over yours. You taste him, drink him down, pour yourself out to him so he’ll take all that you have to give him. You're his now as much as he is yours. And it’s in that moment that you realize this is what you’ve been waiting for your entire life. It was Joel.

You get lost in the kiss as the sparkling lights surround you, lighting up the nighttime as you stay just like that for what seems like an eternity. You don’t know how long you’ve been connected, don’t know how long his lips have lingered on yours, don’t know how long his calloused fingers stayed trailing along your jawline. But when you finally do disconnect from each others lips, he hugs your body into his chest and holds you close. Your arm reaches across his body, and you grab a hold of his button-up shirt as the soft material slips between your fingers. His hand slowly travels up, up, up until he’s covering your hand with his as he threads his fingers through yours, lacing them together like that’s exactly where they belong.

You breathe deep, inhaling his woodsy scent as you look to the stars. They seem to shine brighter now, a clear message that this is where you need to be. That Joel was a star sent from the sky just for you. Your own binary star.

“Your binary star, huh?” you ask again, wanting to hear the words come out of his mouth again and again and again.

“My binary star,” he smiles.

You seem to float away, joining the stars as you stay entangled with him on the soft blanket. Unwilling to move, unwilling to leave this perfect night. It was beautiful, it was all beautiful. And you just couldn’t stop thinking of the words that left his mouth.

My binary star.

Tags: @5oh5 @vividispunk @vvitchesh3x @strawberri-blonde @thischarmingmandalorian @r3dheadedwitch @laurrrra @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @forgetmenotsexy @vie-is-punk @msjarvis @reddedmiller @vee-bees-blog @lorilane33 @mountainsandmayhem @keylimebeag @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @thethirstwivesclub @joelmillersblog @tuquoquebrute @princesatracionera @princessanglophile @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @akah565 @casa-boiardi @prettytulips @ezrasbirdie-main @orcasoul @vivian-pascal @dugiioh @pedrostories @cherrybombsxxx @ka-x-in

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

Text

Little Joel Miller (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: birth, needle, fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: welcoming little Joel Miller to the world.

Words count: 1.6k

A/N: This series is ending really really soon so be ready 🥺 This is part 20 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ Love you!

Thank you @siesie2 for your comment and idea!!

Let's pretend the GIF is you and Joel because I can't find one that looks good for this chapter!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

“Remind me how you convinced me to watch a horror movie again?” Joel tapped your shoulder.

You were laying on your sides on the couch, head resting on Joel’s lap.

“I love scary movies.” You scoffed.

“Well, I hate it.” Joel clicked his tongue.

“You’re a big guy but you can’t even stand scary movies.” You laughed.

“I can handle blood and killing stuff in movies but not ghosts.” Joel protested.

*eerie music from the movie*

Guessing from the music, you knew the ghost was coming soon. You got ready to scare Joel.

*the ghost appeared*

“Ahh!” You sat and screamed at his face.

“Fuuuck!” Joel screamed and flinched.

You laughed so hard at his face.

“You really have to see your face!” You laughed holding your belly.

“You’re really really bad, mama.” Joel shook his head.

His heart was about to burst. But you enjoyed teasing him. He was cute when he was like that.

“You need to be punished, baby.” Joel crawled to you and tickled you.

“No! No! Stop it!” You giggled.

Joel knew your weakness was being tickled. You were ticklish. But Joel had to have revenge. He kept tickling you and laughed. You kept giggling as he tickled you. Your belly moved up and down as you laughed.

“Ooh-Ooh.” You felt a gush of liquid.

“I think I just peed a little.” You giggled.

“Mission accomplished.” Joel proudly said to you as he got his revenge done.

You thought it was pee so you tried to hold it but you couldn’t. Apparently, your water broke.

“Shit, Joel. I think it wasn’t pee.” Your heart was beating faster.

“Don’t prank me again, baby.” Joel didn’t believe you.

“Do you really think I’m joking?!” You stood up and more liquid flowed down your thighs.

“Fuck! Ughh-” You groaned as you felt a shooting pain in your abdomen.

“Fuck-I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Joel stood up and held your hand.

You glared at him. You were not okay. You were scared actually. It was your first time having a baby and you were scared to death.

“I’m not okay, Joel. I’m scared.” Your voice cracked.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you to the hospital. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m here.” Joel put his arms around you and guided you to the car.

You had everything ready a week before and put the hospital bag inside the car. So you wouldn’t have to move the stuff when you were already in a panic mode when your water broke.

Joel drove as fast as he could to the hospital. He lent his hand for you to squeeze throughout the way to the hospital. Even though it didn’t help to ease your pain, his touch and existence gave you comfort.

“Fuuucckk.” You made a low guttural sound to let out the pain.

“Wish I could take your pain, baby.” Joel sat beside the hospital bed you were laying down.

He took your hand and kissed the back of your hand. Joel kept kissing and rubbing your hand with his thumb hoping to ease your pain. His heart broke at the thought of not being able to take your pain away. He couldn’t see you in pain, his eyes were getting teary seeing you crying in pain.

“Joel..It hurts so much.” A tear fell down your cheeks.

“What can I do for you, baby?” He raised your hand and brought it to his lips.

“Ugghh..” You squeezed his hand.

Initially, you wanted to have a natural birth and feel the pain of giving birth without epidurals. But now you were having second thoughts. You thought you could handle it but turned out the pain was unendurable.

“Joel-please-” You cried.

“What baby? What can I do?” Joel nodded and looked at you.

“I want the drugs. I need the epidural.” You begged.

“Okay, wait here. I’ll call the nurse.” Joel placed a kiss on your forehead and left the hospital room

A few moments later, the anesthesiologist and nurse came in with all the stuff they needed to inject the epidural for you. You saw a really big needle. Your heart beat faster. You could handle the normal needle but this one was the biggest you had ever seen.

“That..is..the biggest needle I’ve ever seen.” Your eyes widened.

“Is that going to be inside me?” Suddenly the pain was gone.

“We will inject this to your spine, Mrs. Miller.” The anesthesiologist answered.

“Ughh..” You groaned.

Then the nurse helped to sit in the correct position and get ready for injecting the epidural. Joel was there beside you. His heart beat faster too as he saw the needle that would soon be injected to your spine.

“Hold my hand.” You asked for Joel’s hand.

Joel immediately lent his hand and gave a strong grip to your hand. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and out before the needle was inserted to your body. You squeezed his hand when you felt the needle injected to your spine. You hissed at the sting.

“It’s done.” The doctor tapped your shoulder.

You breathed out in relief.

“Thank you.” You thanked the doctor and nurses.

The epidural worked so well. You felt less pain and you tried to sleep to get some rest. Joel was always there beside you. He took some rest when you sleep so he could stay awake when he needed you. A few hours later, it was finally the time for the baby to come out.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to push in 1, 2, 3..” Your doctor guided you to push.

You held your breath, chin to your chest and pushed.

“You’re doing great, baby.” Joel held your hand and leg.

He kept telling you encouraging words and being your rock. You were grateful Joel was there because you couldn’t do it alone. After a few pushes, your baby boy was finally born. Tears falling down your cheeks when you hear a cry from your baby. Joel cried too.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” Joel tucked your sweaty hair behind your ear then placed a kiss on your temple.

“Hi baby. Hi~” You stroked your baby that was laying on your chest.

“He looks like you, Joel. Little Joel Miller is here.” You teared up adoring your baby boy.

“Hi there, son.” Joel leaned in to get a closer look at his baby boy. He was tearing up too.

Then the nurses brought your baby to give him a bath, weigh him and check everything. Your baby was healthy and that was everything you needed. Your weak body laid on the hospital bed happy but felt weird.

“I feel weird.” You turned your head to Joel who couldn’t stop looking at his baby boy.

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to call the nurse?” Joel panicked.

“No-no. I just-It’s weird that he’s here now. I used to carry him for 40 weeks and now he’s here. And the fact that we made him.” You chuckled.

“We made him.” Joel shook his head and chuckled at your words.

“He’s a part of the two of us, Joel. Can you believe it?” You started to tear up.

“Hey, hey. Why are you crying?” Joel came to you and sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

“It’s happy tears. Don’t worry.” You chuckled as you sniffled.

“Thank you for bringing him to this world, baby. Our world. I promise I will protect our family with my life. I love you.” Joel kissed your forehead and stroked your head.

“I love you too.” You smiled and invited him to lay on the bed with you.

Two days went by, you were finally able to go home with your newborn baby. Joel had called your mom and she said she would wait for you at your house with Sarah. Joel took the carseat with your baby sleeping in it then he helped you get out of the car.

“Hold on to me.” Joel put his arms around you. One hand holding your baby in the carseat.

“Ugh..” You groaned at the discomfort you were feeling as you got out of the car.

“You good?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Hmm. Yeah.” You nodded.

Joel held your weight and walked you inside the house slowly.

“Oh my God!” Your mom squealed as she saw the sleeping baby.

“How are you feeling?” Your mom hugged you.

“I’m happy mom. But I need sleep.” You joked.

“I’ll make you some tea.” Your mom went to the kitchen.

“Where is he? Where is he?” Sarah jumped and ran to you.

“Hi, sweetie. Your brother’s sleeping. You need to calm down.” You stroked her head and chuckled.

Joel put the carseat on the coffee table so everyone could meet his boy.

“Sit here, baby.” Joel put a cushion on the couch for you to sit.

“Thank you, honey.” You stroked his upper arm and sat.

“Hi Sammy!” Sarah took her baby brother’s small hands and waved it gently.

You and Joel decided to name your son Sam. But he would always be little Joel Miller.

“Do you want to hold him, babygirl?” Joel asked his daughter.

“Can I?” Sarah got excited.

“Of course you can, sweetie.” You rested your head on the couch and rubbed your belly.

“Sit here.” Joel patted the empty space between you and him on the couch for Sarah to sit.

“Place your hand like this.” Joel demonstrated to Sarah and she followed him.

“Hold his head, okay.” Joel slowly put his son in Sarah's arms.

“That’s it babygirl.” Joel smiled, proud of his daughter being a big sister.

“You’re a big sister now, Sarah.” You stroked her head.

“I’m your big sister.” Sarah cooed to her baby brother and kissed his cheek.

Joel smiled looking at Sarah holding her baby brother. Then he rested his hand on your shoulder. You smiled at him when he rubbed your shoulder.

“I love you.” Joel mouthed to you.

To be continued…

Taglist:

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illiterateaffairs · 1 year

Text

i like you

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T (really just language/dialogue nothing crazy)

word count: 1,116

summary: you and jamie have recently upgraded your fwb status to a full fledged relationship. you can’t help but gush over your favorite person and it’s exactly what jamie needs to hear.

A/N: this is a (supposed to be) small drabble that takes place in a larger series i have been working on. so there’s more jamie x reader and backstory to come. all you need to know for now is that jamie and reader are in a new relationship that’s secret and this take place at some point in season 3 :)

It's a cloudy morning in Richmond, but the lack of sun isn’t darkening your mood. You and Jamie are taking a quiet stroll, your hands intertwined and swinging gently between you. You’ve been officially dating for a couple weeks now, after admitting your no-strings-attached situationship had garnered a lot of strings. Despite how apprehensive you were about entering a serious relationship, you are the happiest you have been in a long time.

However, you have still been a bit reluctant to share your upgraded status with your friends.

Sam knew. But Sam was your closest friend since you’ve started working for the club. You needed to confide in someone.

Roy knew. But Roy’s been reserving all of Jamie’s time that wasn’t spent playing football or being with you. It was bound to come up.

Rebecca also knew. But Rebecca knew everything,

But even now that you’ve confessed your feelings for each other to each other, you still wanted to hold off on telling the rest of the team.

You told Jamie it was because you liked the little bubble you had created all these months; that it felt good not having other people but into your relationship. And while Jamie agreed that he liked having you all to himself, the voices in his head, the ones that told him he’d never be good enough- voices that more often than not resembled the sound of his father- tried to convince him it was because you were ashamed to be with him. It was all fun and games when you were just messing around, but did you really want to be known as Jamie Tartt’s girlfriend? He didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to relationships. So maybe you just wanted to wait it out; see if you really wanted to be with him, or just keep it on the down low so it was easier to cut him loose when you inevitably realized that you were better off without him.

Jamie tries to not let these intrusive thoughts win over, especially in moments like these where you’re out and about together. Publicly. With your hand in his. He tries not to dwell on the fact that its because you’re in an area of town no one from the club frequents, and because it's early enough in the day for him not to be recognized by rabid fans. But he takes what he can get.

The two of you are walking through a small park as Jamie tells you what he thinks is a mindless story about training yesterday. However, you can’t help but listen like he’s telling the most important story you’ve ever heard. You smile fondly, watching his eyes light up as he recalls humorous interactions between him and his teammates, and how excited he seems to be that they’re making a lot of progress. You also don’t miss the inflection in his voice when he shares that Ted told him he was proud of the team player he’s been lately.

In the middle of telling you about something funny Isaac said, a lone football rolls to a stop in front of Jamie’s feet. Pausing mid-sentence, Jamie clocks a group of primary school kids nearby and kicks it back to them.

“Strong form, keep it up!” he calls over before continuing his anecdote.

You let Jamie finish his thought, but you’re barely registering his words, too overcome with affection for him, even from the littlest things. Before he can start on another topic, you speak up.

“Hey,” you tug on Jamie’s hand, making you both stop, “I like you, you know that?”

Jamie turns to face you with a humorous look. “Uh, yeah, I’d say what we did last night made that pretty obvious.”

You scoff, shoving him playfully. “No, I mean I like you, Jamie.” His eyebrows furrow and you know he’s not getting it. “Yeah, sure, I’m attracted to you and you’re good in bed-”

Jamie snickers.

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

“But I also like you as a person, you know? I like that you’re thoughtful, and that you were one of the first people to suggest fixing up Sam’s restaurant after it was vandalized. It was also sweet that you were there for Roy while he was struggling with his breakup even though it was with your ex. That was big of you. So was giving up your position on the team so that others could score because you knew it was the better strategy. And that was so smart! I also appreciated how you spent your day off with me once, even though I was sick and just wanted to sit on the couch and watch Grey’s Anatomy. I like that you make me laugh and know what to say when I’m upset and genuinely care about my interests and what I have to say. I just really, really like you. In addition to like-liking you.”

As you spoke, Jamie’s teasing expression morphed into one of surprise, eventually settling into one filled with emotion. He was touched. You believed he was thoughtful, generous, intelligent and kind? Those weren’t qualities people normally attributed to him. Jamie was used to being praised for his looks, his talent, and his fame but never his personality. He knew he wasn’t as much of a prick as he used to be, but he didn’t believe he was a good person. Certainly not good enough for someone like you. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was someone you could be proud of.

As your words hung in silence and you finally took note of the tears in Jamie’s eyes, you suddenly felt self conscious. “Jamie, are you okay? Was that…was that too much?”

You give his hand a slight squeeze, snapping him out of his stupor. “Wha- no! I just…I’m just not used to hearing things like that.”

You give him a supportive smile, cupping your other hand around his face. “Well, I’m happy to pay you compliments more often. Not too much, though. Can’t inflate your ego more than it already is.”

He huffs out a laugh, “Too late, it's already gone right to my head.”

You roll your eyes good naturedly, “Of course it has.” You rub his cheek gently with your thumb before leaning in for a chaste kiss.

You don’t need to worry about this making him any more cocky. Jamie Tartt’s confidence comes from knowing he’s a good looking guy and an even better footballer. But you’re not with him because he’s Jamie Fucking Tartt. You’re the first person to like just Jamie. In fact, you really, really like him. That doesn’t feed his ego. That just aids his heart.

A/N: hopefully not too cheesy? lol i just needed jamie to feel appreciated! i hope you liked a sneak peek into this world. like i said, i plan to write the full story leading up to how jamie and reader get to this point. feel free to send me any feedback/thoughts/questions. its my first time writing in a WHILE and my first time writing jamie/the ted lasso world so trying to get a feel for the character’s voice and tone. if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! xo

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #distractions series

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avatar-anna · 2 years

Text

What a Night

i know some of y'all wanted to see professor at the grammys, but i decided to save her for the brits! here's to seeing harry let loose once a year!

Professor Series

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Friday

“Doctor Y/l/n, are you going to the Brits with Harry tomorrow?”

Now, a few months ago, that question would’ve startled you, flustered you even. But Harry “audited” your lectures enough that your students knew he was more than just a friend. You were teaching them how to observe the mundane and make educated guesses about their surroundings, after all. It was technically for law enforcement, but they put it to use after the first few times Harry snuck into the lecture hall and occupied a seat in the back corner. He never said anything during class, but he always stayed after, and he always walked or drove you home. It was hard not to put two and two together.

Your brow wrinkled with confusion. “That’s not this weekend. It’s on the eleventh.”

“That’s this weekend, Professor,” the same student who asked the initial question said. “Did you forget?”

There was a small chorus of giggles from the lecture hall because of course their professor would forget one of the biggest nights of the year for British artists. You didn’t mean to, but you were known for getting caught up in work. Losing track of time or not knowing what day it was was commonplace for you.

Class ended shortly after that, and you immediately checked your calendar. It was in fact the weekend of the eleventh, the Brits were this weekend, and you’d completely forgotten.

You raced back to the townhouse, dialing Harry’s number as you hopped on your bike.

“Hi, love—”

“H, I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about the Brits this weekend. Well, I didn’t forget because I can’t forget, but it slipped my mind, and I feel terrible because this is such a huge event for you and you would never—”

“Hey. Y/n. Take a breath,” Harry said. He waited for you to relax, listening for your deep breaths. “Calm now?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I’m just a little stressed because I have to book my train ticket to London—”

“It’s already booked,” he said, not sounding nearly as stressed as you felt.

“It is?”

You could almost hear his smile as he said, “I had a feeling it would slip your mind. You had your big lecture this week. How did it go?”

You wanted to talk about this weekend and the plans Harry made for you because he knew you so well, but you couldn’t help your huge grin when he asked about your seminar, which had been one big talk that was open to all Cambridge students and anyone else who could make it to the university and wanted to hear your lecture on criminal psychology.

“So good, H! They want me to do a series of lectures, maybe even broadcast it online so more people can watch.”

“That’s not at all surprising. I’m so proud of you, darling. I’ll definitely have to watch one, possibly all of them.”

As much as you wanted to gush about the seminar, you circled back to the topic at hand. “W—What about you? How are rehearsals going?”

Harry blew out a large breath. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m exhausted,” he said. “But I’m excited too. Not turn tables this time.”

“Aw, H,” you said, coming to a stop on your bike as you reached the townhouse. You were well aware of just how exhausted he was. Last week he fell asleep before your takeout order had arrived, and he was jumping right back into touring after this award show. “Are you free tonight? Assuming I’ll be on a train in the next couple of hours I can make dinner and we can watch a movie.”

“You hate movies,” he joked.

“Yeah but you don’t,” you said. “This weekend is about you. I want to do whatever makes you happy.”

“Oh, well if it’s all about me then,” Harry said, his voice playful. “Train departs later this afternoon. I’ll pick you up.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” you told him as you entered the townhouse. “The cats miss you almost as much as I do.”

“Well, we won’t be apart for long. Now,” Harry said. “Tell me more about the seminar. I know you’re dying to talk about it.”

Sometimes it was eerie how well Harry knew you, but you summed it up to him being a devoted partner.

��Well, the lecture hall was completely filled, and at first I thought it was mostly your fans, but everyone was there to learn! I had candy to give out for people who answered questions, and so many people stayed afterwards to talk. Oh! And you’ll never believe...”

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Saturday

“Babe, that was Stanley Tucci!”

“I know!”

“The Stanley Tucci!”

“I know!”

Harry giggled and hid his face in your neck. He was practically on top of you, but you didn’t mind. Harry always got like this when he had a few too many. He would drink, and then he became the most physically affectionate person in the room.

The night had been pure magic so far. Walking the red carpet with Harry had been nerve-wracking, even when he told you he wore this suit so you could hide behind it whenever you got nervous. But being next to him the whole time made it somewhat easy. That and you recited the plots of Shakespeare plays in your head to keep your mind off the flashing lights and people yelling at you to look this way and turn another.

Harry had kept to water until after his performance, which was when he really started to let loose. He’d wanted to keep a clear head to perform, but now that it was over and done with, he was pounding the tequila. You and Gemma would share amused looks every now and again, but mostly you were just happy to see him enjoying himself.

And winning.

“This is just unreal,” he mumbled, his breath fanning against your skin. He’d been deposited into the seat next to yours after accepting his fourth and final award of the night. You watched as Kid and Tyler had to help him offstage a little, so you weren’t surprised when he plopped down beside you unceremoniously, or when he proceeded to pull you close and mumble slightly incoherently against your neck.

“I—I truly never thought that I would—that I could ever—I just feel like the luckiest guy in the world right now.”

You scratched the back of his head affectionately, grinning a little as he hummed in response. “You deserve everything, love. All of it. You work so hard, and you make so many people happy.”

“Yeah?” Harry said, peeking his head up to look at you. “And what did I do to deserve you, hm?”

Blushing, you looked away. “Stop it.”

“Never.”

The night carried on, and Harry was pretty much the star of the show. He was on cloud nine after his clean sweep, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him. It was odd to think that an album that was heavily based on the things you went through with Harry would gain such critical acclaim. When you heard his album for the first time, it had been jarring and a little uncomfortable because they were your experiences too, not just Harry’s. But you also knew that as an artist, Harry best expressed himself through music, and you learned to feel honored to have a small part in his artistic process. And they were heartfelt songs, at the end of the day, each one expressing just how much you meant to him.

At one point in the evening, Harry grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you away from the table you’d been sitting at all night. You first thought he was going to introduce you to someone—a friend or collaborator, maybe even Stanley Tucci—but he bypassed all the tables filled with celebrities, heading out of the main space where the award show was being held. Harry didn’t stop until the sounds of the most recent performance were muffled and it was just the two of you in a forgotten hallway.

“H, what are we—mmph.”

His lips were on yours before you even had the chance to process. They were warm and eager and tasted faintly of tequila, but his hands were steady as one gripped your hip and the other held the side of your head, fingers inching into your hair. The kids startled you, but Harry’s eagerness had you responding in kind, even though anyone could’ve turned a corner and caught the two of you.

Harry didn’t seem to care about getting caught either. The hand on your hip trailed down, his fingertips grazing the skin revealed by the high slit on your dress. It was the smallest graze of skin against skin, but it sent a shiver down your spine, and Harry could sense it. He smiled, kissing your top lip before dragging the bottom between his teeth.

“You look heavenly tonight,” he said, his thumb drawing circles into the skin of your thigh. “Done my best to behave myself all night, but now I just need a little taste, that alright?”

Heat spread from your neck all the way up to your hairline. You could handle him calling you pretty or beautiful or any of the other conventional compliments shared between partners, but Harry always made it a point to go above and beyond that, almost like he was trying to make you blush.

You found yourself nodding at his request because in all honesty, he looked devastatingly handsome in all of his different outfits tonight, and this silk shit was no different. It took a surprising amount of restraint to not run your hand along his exposed chest multiple times tonight, and you were pretty sure Harry could sense that.

He pressed teasing, feather-light kisses on your jaw, then your neck, those fingers of his still tracing patterns on your leg, not once sneaking past the lace fabric of your dress, which he had been admiring you in all night. It wasn’t often that you got dressed up, not that Harry minded, but you were pretty sure he was shocked to see you in a floor-length dress made of form-fitting pink lace. It was a shock for you too, but a good one.

You figured hidden away like this, the moment would be rushed and frenzied, but Harry was surprisingly delicate. By the time he made it down to your collarbone, you had to put your fingers in his hair to urge him to apply just a little more pressure.

“Sorry,” he said, still kissing. “Don’t want to ruin such a lovely dress. And all good work takes time, professor. You know that.”

Harry fiddled with one of the straps of your dress, admiring the intricate lace detail before sliding it down your shoulder. Your eyes widened.

“Harry, are you insane? We can’t—”

“Relax, just gonna give you a little kiss. Like this, see?”

Just as lightly as before, Harry pecked your shoulder, shooting you a teasing grin afterwards. His smile sparked a mischievous confidence in you that only he seemed able to bring out. Running a hand through his hair, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back so you were nose to nose with him.

“Do I get to have a little taste now too?”

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Harry walked into the small room where journalists and photographers were waiting for him. His hair was tousled, messier than it had been at the start of the night. Those in the press room chalked it up to an eventful night that included an electric performance, but only because they didn’t see the small purple bruise that was barely covered by his partially buttoned dress shirt. He seemed less inebriated than he had been onstage, though there was a glint in his eyes still, from a successful night at the Brits, no doubt.

He answered questions and talked about how grateful he was. He talked about his album—the process of making it and the warmth it received upon it’s release. Then,

“To celebrate? Uh...” There was a small grin on his face as he paused to think about what he wanted to say versus what he would actually get up to.

Harry gave his last answer of the night, then thanked everyone before leaving the press room and heading straight to where he knew you were waiting for him.

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

Text

JUST HOW FAST THE NIGHT CHANGES (part 3)

A/N: writing this part took me way longer than i thought but here we are! it's a bit shorter than the prev parts, but its waaay more loaded with emotions!! warning is included down below, but its also kind of a spoiler

WARNING: discussion about miscarriage

PAIRING: Harry x High-School-Best-Friend!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

He didn’t feel this nervous before his first Grammy performance. Not even before his Wembley shows. His nerves are on the verge of snapping, his mind racing a thousand miles per second as Friday finally arrives. He wants the evening to be perfect, make you feel comfortable so he can show you how serious he is about reconnecting with you on any level you’ll allow him to.

He’s been up since five in the morning, he went to the market to get the freshest ingredients possible for dinner. He’s been cleaning, polishing the house even though his cleaning lady was there just two days ago. He’s been a tad bit maniac, to say the least, but he just wants to show you how important it is to him. He spends most of the day cooking, a full three course meal will be waiting for you when you finally arrive.

You text him sometime after six that you’re on your way, you’ll be there in about thirty. Mentally he is cursing himself out for not sending a car for you, but he can’t do anything about that now. He obsessively checks his outfit every five minutes, fixing his hair, changing his mind whether he should have shaved or not. Well, there’s not much to do about that either now.

And then the intercom rings through the hallway and he is shooting out of the bedroom, running towards the front door.

“Hi!” he beams, pressing the button and he can’t help the smile that stretches across his face when he sees you on the tiny screen, standing outside his gate.

“Hi,” you chuckle.

“Just straight up, I’ll be at the door,” he instructs you before buzzing the gate open and letting you in.

Throwing the door open he steps out into the chilly winter evening, instantly spotting your approaching form and he stops himself from running ahead like a little puppy welcoming its owner. God, he thinks it’s worrying, how obsessed he has become with you so fast, he shouldn’t be acting like this, he is a grown adult, not a little kid.

“Hi, come on in!” he holds the door open for you.

“Hi, thank you,” you smile shyly, silently assessing the luxurious, yet not too flashy home.

“Let me take this.” He helps your coat off your shoulders and hangs it up in the closet in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and put on the fluffy slippers he left out for you. “Do you want a tour?”

“Sure,” you chuckle.

You follow him around as he shows you the main areas of his home, living room, kitchen, dining room and then he walks you upstairs where you get a glance of his own bedroom as well as the three guest bedrooms.

“This looks amazing, Harry,” you gush as the two of you head down to the kitchen so he can serve dinner.

“Thanks. I’m trying to make it homey, so it actually feels like home when I’m here.”

“Do you struggle with that? Feeling like you’re home?”

“It was hard to pinpoint a place that I could call my home, but I think it’s better now.”

They make small talk as Harry heats up some of the food that’s been ready for a while, and then they move to the dining room where he already set the table.

“You really went all out,” you chuckle, when he opens a bottle of wine and serves dinner.

“Of course. It’s important for me.”

“To show me you can make a fancy dinner?”

“To show you that you’re important,” he simply says without hesitation, his words stunning you for a second as he joins you at the table. “Sorry, that came out weird, didn’t it?” he chuckles awkwardly.

“No, no… it’s just… doesn’t matter,” you shake your head, turning your focus on the food. “Let’s eat.”

The food is delicious and you don’t hold back telling him about it. You never thought he would ever be this good in the kitchen, part of you imagined he is way too used to eating in fancy restaurants that he never even has the time to cook.

You were wrong.

As one course follows the other you slowly start to open up more and more, you tell him about university, how work is these days and Harry listens to anything you have to tell him, drinking up even the smallest information crumb you throw his way.

He tells you stories too, ones you probably haven’t heard if you ever looked him up online these past few years. He lets you in on his private life he keeps locked away from the public and he hopes you see it as a sign of trust.

When you’re both full, you insist on helping him clean up at least a bit, loading the dishwasher while he packs away the leftovers. Then you move to the living room with a new bottle of wine, he even lights a cozy fire in the fireplace as you sink into the soft cushion of his sofa. Now he feels like you’ve loosened up fully. You’re joking, teasing him, letting yourself laugh loud with your head falling back, your legs are pulled up, feet rubbing together under the fluffy blanket he handed you to make you even cozier.

He wishes he could take a picture of you like this, looking so carefree and unapologetically yourself, like you don’t have any worries in the world. Maybe it’s just the wine, maybe not. He selfishly wants to believe that it’s him who finally cracked you open enough to leave your burdens behind even if it’s for just tonight.

He tells you about a time he got drunk a few years ago and somehow ended up outside his hotel room without pants on. Mitch had to push him back into his room before anyone saw him running wild. It makes you laugh so much that you almost spill the last drops of the wine. Harry wouldn’t have minded that either, he would have gladly bought a whole new couch, he’s just thankful to see you have such a good time as he laughs with you.

“I would have loved seeing the headlines following that!” you gasp for air, wiping your tears away from the corner of your eyes.

“Yeah and my publicist would have gotten a stroke at the same time,” he huffs, making you laugh some more. It takes a few minutes for the two of you to calm down and Harry can’t help himself from speaking up. “I’ve missed this,” he smiles over the rim of his glass and you sink deeper into the cushion. “I’ve missed being our old selves.”

“But we’re not our old selves, Harry,” you softly breathe out, the sinking feeling returning in your guts, your laughter now long gone.

“But it feels just like that. It doesn’t matter that we’re older or how much has changed,” he insists.

You turn silent, the smile slowly fading from your lips as you stare into your drink before downing it and placing the glass to the coffee table.

Harry fears he said something he shouldn’t have and he is just about to apologize when you speak up again, dropping a bomb.

“I had a miscarriage.”

The words hang heavy between the two of you and you’re not even sure why you felt the need to share it with him. Very few people know about what happened, it’s not something you can just easily bring up and share with others but now Harry belongs to this tiny circle as well.

Keeping your eyes down and off of Harry you continue speaking.

“The doctors said nothing extreme happened, the baby was just… not strong enough. I have great chances of getting pregnant again. Drew, my ex… ex husband has… had different views though.”

“What do you mean?”

You open your mouth to answer, but you can feel the tears dwelling in your eyes, so you take a moment to try and swallow your emotions back, though it’s quite impossible. It’s been over a year, but you’re still not fully over it.

“He never said it out loud, but it was pretty obvious he blamed it on me in some twisted way. Made me feel like I did something that resulted in losing…”

Harry is quick to move closer when your voice dies down, he places his glass to the table and wraps an arm around you, pulling you against him.

“I swear I didn’t do anything, I was so careful, I even stopped working out, I took days off every time I felt too sick to work… I did everything…”

“I know. I know you did, it wasn’t your fault,” he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss on top of your head as he patiently lets you get it all out. It takes a couple of minutes before you can speak again without sobbing.

“Drew grew cold, he worked late, always made plans for himself, without me. There were weeks we barely even spoke. Deep down I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t have the energy to deal with the possibility of my husband having an affair after losing my baby… I should have done something, though…”

“You went through something very hard, he should have been there for you, it wasn’t your fault, Y/N.”

“It’s what everyone tells me, but I don’t feel like it’s the truth,” you let out a shaky breath.

There’s so much Harry wants to say, but he knows he has to hear more to even try to comfort you the right way.

“Want to tell me more about what went down?”

He waits and no answer comes for a while before you take a deep breath and move back from his embrace.

“I think deep down I knew he was cheating on me, but I tried to talk myself down for a few weeks, told myself he wouldn’t do that to me. Guess I was wrong,” you scoff bitterly. “It was with his coworker he swore was not his type. And when I confronted him about it, he didn’t even try to apologize, beg for forgiveness. It’s like… it was a relief for him, that he didn’t have to keep this a secret anymore and he could use it all against me finally.”

Harry exhales sharply, his hands curling into fists as anger rushes through his veins. He never met this Drew guy, but he better pray their paths never cross, because Harry surely would lose his temper.

Wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand you clear your throat as you hug your knees and continue talking, it’s like a plug has been pulled, you feel the urge to share it all with him.

“Anyways, he basically said that he doesn’t see a future with me anymore. We had been married for less than a year at that point. He moved out by the end of the month and we were officially done in six months. I think… Uh, whatever, forget about it.”

“No, you can say it, you can say anything,” he assures you.

“I think that we were over even before I got pregnant. I feel like that was the only reason that kept him by my side. Then we… lost the baby and… I guess he used it as a reason to leave. I just don’t understand why he even married me in the first place,” you add the last part in a whisper as you swallow down another cry that’s bubbling in your throat.

Harry is devastated, in many different ways. He is ashamed for your ex, it’s hard to believe any man would treat a woman like this, let alone a woman like you. He is mad that you had to go through all of this undeservingly, that you had to deal with not just the loss of your pregnancy but also with your husband cheating.

It’s unfair and terribly wrong and the worst part is that he wasn’t there for you and there’s nothing he can do about it now.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he exhales as he wraps his arms around you and you lean onto him, your head resting on his chest, finding great comfort in his closeness. “I know you’ve probably heard it, but it wasn’t your fault.”

You remain silent as you let him hold you and you stay like that for a while. Minutes, maybe hours pass by, you can’t tell, but he doesn’t let go of you until you move back, wiping your cheeks.

“Sorry for unloading all of this on you so suddenly,” you huff out an awkward laugh, now that your head is clearer.

“Oh no, no, no, there’s nothing to be sorry about, Y/N. I feel like it’s wrong to say this, but… I’m glad you shared it with me,” he chuckles.

“I don’t know why I blurted it all out, not… not many people know about this. And please don’t share it with others,” you peek at him.

“Of course, I would never tell anyone. It’s safe with me,” he assures you.

“I kinda ruined the evening, didn’t I?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Not at all,” he smiles. “It’s all good. Thank you for sharing.”

Silence falls over the two of you again, but it’s not at all awkward or frustrating, there’s more comfort in it than in a lot of conversations you’ve had over the years. It’s much needed after all the heavy stuff that’s been just shared and Harry wants to give you time, as much as you need.

Your eyes wander over to him and then down at his wrist. Your gaze lingers there and he catches the gloomy look that runs over your expressions.

He understands it right away.

“I still have it,” he speaks up.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet. I still have it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he nods smiling.

“Why did you stop wearing it?” you ask, but you realize it might have sounded weird. He is a grown man, why should he wear some silly bracelet he got as a teenager?

“It was–Wait, let me show you.”

He jumps to his feet and shuffles out of the room, leaving you there in confusion. You hear him fumbling around until he reappears and sits back on the couch with his wallet in his hand. You hold your tongue and just watch the events unfold as he opens the wallet and pulls out a little pouch, one they often use for jewelry.

“I was, I think in Paris when it got caught in a doorknob and the string snapped,” he starts explaining as he opens up the pouch carefully. “The beads were all over the floor and our manager was screaming at me because we were late, but I just had to collect the beads.”

He chuckles softly and you watch as he gently shakes said beads out into his palm and your lips part in shock.

“I couldn’t find all of them, tried to fix it, but there weren’t enough left to fit around my wrist.”

He plays around with the beads, letting the roll in his palm, a sad, but somehow still goofy smile tugging on his lips before he looks up and his gaze meets yours.

And he sees just how touched you are.

“I always thought you stopped wearing it because… because we weren’t talking anymore and… you know,” you shrug, unable to find the words as you gulp back your tears.

“That was never the case,” he exhales, realizing how important it was for you and that you lived with this false idea of him up until now. “I still keep it with me. It’s important. It always was,” he quietly adds.

You’re absolutely speechless. All this time you thought he got rid of the bracelet in an act of leaving you behind as he entered his superstar life. You vividly remember when you first noticed it missing from his wrist, you pathetically cried yourself to sleep, hugging a teddy bear Harry got you for one of your birthdays. You felt betrayed, forgotten and unimportant and it never occurred to you something else might have happened.

Now this ultimately sad memory has turned into something so touching and unexpectedly comforting, you can’t remember the last time someone made you feel like this. It’s like the universe has gotten its balance back.

“Thank you,” is all you can say as you cover the beads with your palm.

You stay late, way longer than you imagined, but it’s like you’ve entered a bubble of comfort that you never want to leave. When you start yawning like a baby, that’s when you know you have to head home. Though Harry offers for you to stay the night in one of his guest bedrooms, you feel like that would be over some kind of boundary you’re not ready to cross just yet. So he calls you a car and even packs you some of the food to bring home with you. You tease him about being a malewife, but he just shrugs, accepting his fate.

“Thank you for tonight, Harry,” you smile at him sleepily as you stand by the car’s open door.

“When can I see you again?” he eagerly asks, not even caring if you think he’s crazy.

“Sometime soon. How long are you staying here?”

“I have two shows in Palm Springs on the thirty-first and then on the first as well.”

“Birthday shows?” you chuckle softly.

“Something like that. Throwing myself a party. Do you want to come?” he asks, at first just as a joke, but as soon as the words leave his mouth he realizes he means them.

“To Palm Springs?”

“Yeah. I’ll have a birthday dinner before too. You can fly out with me, I’ll arrange everything for you. A nice little trip, what do you say?”

“I’ll think about it,” you sigh and he can tell you’re not too fond of the idea, but he still has time to convince you. Having you there on his special birthday shows would mean the world to him and it would be the best present as well for sure.

“Alright, it’s not a no so I’m fine with that,” he smirks. “Take care and I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Sure,” you smile as you let him embrace you in a tight hug before you get into the car.

He watches you drive away as he stands by the gate with the cheesiest smile on his face from the connection he was able to rebuild with you, but his chest also aches for everything you shared with him. And if he wasn’t sure about wanting to make everything right before, now it’s more important than anything to be there for you in any way you need him to.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fluff #just how fast the night changes

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ariundercovers · 7 months

Text

Traffic Jam (When Paths Cross Pt. VII, Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~3.5k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: A loaded question and some heated conversations.

Chapter Warnings: no porn only plot, ANGST, spanish nicknames, idiots in love, Chucho being a Dad to two idiots in love (the poor man omg).

A/N: I know this series is moving FAST but I'm so determined to actually finish this one that I'm writing quickly and just rolling with it! I hope the time gaps that are written in aren't too bothersome.

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (VI) HERE

You walk into work the next morning with a bright smile on your face, lost in the dreaminess that is Javier Peña. Your head is stuck in the clouds, still giddy from his admission to you last evening.

He loves you.

Javier Peña loves you.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this high. Sure, you’ve felt you were in love before, but it’s never been like this. Never this intense, sudden, unexpected. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

One of your coworkers notices your giddy mood and you end up gushing everything out to her, a stupid smile on your face when you tell her what he said about the necklace, and how he made you panic when he didn’t say “I love you” back right away. She smiles at you, tells you he sounds like a good man, and that she’s happy for you - happy to see you so excited and happy. She says love looks good on you.

And that’s how it goes for the next few weeks. It’s all love and butterflies and perfection and heart eyes and everything else gooey and good. But something keeps nagging at you - a question left unasked, unanswered. You need to know, and eventually, you can’t keep yourself from putting it out there.

When it happens, you’re at the mall of all places, looking for some jeans for Javi and a new suitcase for an upcoming work trip for you, given that you broke one of the wheels on your old one on the last trip. Eventually, you decide to take a rest with some overly sweet Chinese bourbon chicken in the food court. It’s pleasant and simple, but your mind can’t stop whirring, won’t stop thinking about all the possibilities, trying to piece together what your future might look like, what your future could look like.

It’s been long enough, right? You can ask. You can have an adult conversation.

You shared ‘I love you’s, for fuck’s sake. You can ask him this question.

You do your best to settle your nerves before speaking up, finishing up a bite of chicken before setting down your fork and looking up at Javi with a curious glance.

“What do you think about, when you think about the future?” Javi’s brow furrows as he regards you, head ticking to the side as he tries to wrap his mind around the question.

“What do you mean?”

You shrug slightly, thinking nothing of it. “I mean… the usual stuff, you know? Do you want to be in Laredo? Married? Kids? A House of your own? Still on the Ranch? That stuff.”

Javi blinks back at you for a long moment before he shakes his head and averts his eyes back down to where he’s picking at a pile of fried rice. “Yeah… I don’t think any of that is for me.”

You’re taken aback. That’s not the answer you were expecting, and not by a long shot. “Oh… I, uh… what part of it?”

He shakes his head again, looking up at you this time as he sets down his fork. The expression on his face is unreadable to you - like he’s suddenly a different person altogether. “All of it. I don’t… want that. Any of that.”

The two of you are completely silent for a long, long moment. You’re not sure how to phrase the miserable thought and emotion that’s bubbling up inside of you, but you eventually manage to put a few words to at least part of it.

“Does that mean you don’t want me, either?”

Javi looks taken aback as he answers, “No, that’s not what I said.”

“But… if you don’t want to get married, or kids, or a house, or any of it… ever, what’s the point of this? What are we doing?”

He grunts, frustrated as he reaches up to pinch at his brow with his finger tips. “Isn’t this enough?”

You sigh, shrugging. You’re not sure how to answer him. “I mean… for now, but…”

“But what?” He cuts you off before you can even finish the thought. You’re taken aback, again, and you lean forward as you try to muster up a coherent response.

“I’m not a child anymore, Javi. I want to be thinking about the future, I don’t want to keep wasting time with people and situations that don’t want anything to do with me in the long run. You really don’t ever want to get married? Or any of it? Nothing?” He sighs and rolls his eyes at you a little bit, the frustration in his face wildly apparent.

“No. I really don’t.”

It’s hard not to have a horrible expression glued to your face. This is not how you expected this conversation to go. In fact, it’s quite possibly the furthest thing from it.

“Ever?”

Javi slams his hand down on the table, and you’re taken aback by the frustration and power he puts into it. He’s never lashed out at you like this before, and you’re just not sure what to make of it. It startles you at best, maybe scares or frightens you at worst.

“No. Never. Can we move on, now?” You try to blink back the fear and frustration you’re feeling, because you know if you dwell on it much longer, you’ll end up crying. You can feel it brimming quickly behind your eyes.

“O-okay.”

You finish your meals in a terse silence that feels very uncomfortable and out of place for the two of you. You’ve never had this tense of a moment between you before, and you’re not sure how to get out of it. Eventually, you wait long enough without speaking that you just settle back into a relative normal as you’re shopping through the mall, looking for the right style and brand of jeans Javi wants.

It’s stuck in the back of your mind the entire time, however, so much so that you can barely focus on the questions Javi is asking you. You’re so fixated that you walk past several stores with luggage in the front window without even registering it, and Javi has to keep pulling you back to go in and look. Eventually, you give up.

“Javi, can we go home? Maybe we can look another day.” He looks at you quizzically, confused.

“Are you alright, muñeca?”

“Yeah, I’m just not feeling it. I’d like to go home.” He nods and takes your hand, turning around to head back to the exit where he parked the car. Nerves are bubbling up inside of you in a way that you haven’t felt since your final interview for the job at the arts center. Few things have made you freak out this badly, but you just can’t help repeating it in your brain, over and over again.

I don’t… want that. Any of that.

He didn’t want you long-term, either, that much was clear to you. You wondered what he was doing in all of this if he had no plans for longevity. Why keep leading you along like this? Why get you so attached that it’ll just hurt worse the longer he waits to end things? The feelings quickly turn to panic, and turn the contents of your stomach rancid.

You felt hopeless.

Javi leads you to the car, closing the door for you before getting into the driver’s seat and heading out, driving off in the direction of the ranch. The usually lovely winding roads that lead you back to the Peña farm house make you feel sickly and near-ill the entire ride there. It takes everything in you not to vomit in Javi’s passenger seat, holding it in as best as you can until he finally parks in front of the ranch. You hurry inside, past Chucho laid up in his recliner chair in the living room and lock yourself in the bathroom down the hall. You lean over the sink, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. After a few minutes of steady breathing, your stomach settles, and you look in the mirror to be confronted by red-rimmed eyes. You might as well have been crying the entire ride back to the house with how awful you looked.

You turn on the tap and splash some cold water on your face, the chill helping you feel a bit more settled and present in the moment than you had been. You’re still unnerved, your stomach unsettled, but you feel more like a human than you did on the road, certainly. It hits you suddenly that you’re going to need to bring this back up with Javi again to get some clarity. You wouldn’t be able to sleep or hardly even think without it.

Strolling back into Javi’s room, you find him pulling his new jeans out of the bag and removing the tags before tossing them in his hamper to wash. He turns to you with a half smile and a tilt of his head.

“Cariño. You feeling alright?” You nod somberly and have a seat at the end of his bed, waiting for him to finish. He wraps you up in his arms, pulling you down into the bed so he can tuck you in properly. “A nap, perhaps?”

You nod, curling into his arms with relative ease as he strokes your shoulder gently.

It’s keeping you wide awake, so you turn in his arms and look up at his face, sighing as you realize how awful this conversation might be.

“Javi?”

He doesn’t respond at first and you worry he might be asleep already. Eventually, he groans and asks, “What is it, muñeca?”

You sigh, taking a deep breath before you continue. “Javi… can you please talk to me about this no marriage and no kids thing?”

You can feel his body go rigid beneath the sheets - soft arms turn to violent blades wrapped around you as he stiffens. “What is there to talk about? I don’t want it.”

“What if I do? Can’t we just talk about it?” You roll onto your back, hoping a little bit of distance might help the tension you’re feeling between you. He turns and looks at you seriously, blinking a few times before he sighs and drops his head.

“I guess… you’ll just have to figure out how to deal with that disappointment.”

You scoff, his words grating at you. “What? Disappointment? We can’t even have a discussion about it? About the possibility, even?”

He shakes his head, looking back at you for a moment before he responds. “I don’t want it, cariño. I’m sorry.”

You huff, sitting up in the bed and crossing your arms over your chest. The anger inside of you is threatening to bubble up and lash out, so you do your best to temper it before you speak. The last thing you need to do is make all of this worse than it already is. But, the anger is bubbling up too quickly to be able to temper yourself fully. Your words still come out like a knife, sharp and targeted in a way that you’ve never spoken to him before. “So that means you get to make universal decisions for us now, too, huh?”

He’s taken aback as he sits up, as well, looking at you with a confused scowl. “What?”

You inch away from him, eyes boring holes into his skill. “I thought this was supposed to be a partnership.”

“What? Why are you getting like this? Things have been easy, good. I don’t know why you have to complicate it with this.” He shifts, reaching toward you, but you shirk away, his words seeding themselves deeply into your chest.

“Complicate? Is that what I am? A complication? Fuck. That’s not… that’s not what I’m in this for, Javier. I want to be more than a good fuck. I deserve to be more than that.”

“Cariño, that’s not what I said-”

You don’t let him finish his thought before you’re lashing out again. “Isn’t it? You’re not interested in anything more than what we have right now. And what we have right now is a lot of sex and casual conversations. We might as well be friends with benefits if that’s all you want out of this.”

He glares at you, frustrated, and shakes his head before standing up and pacing the room, from door to headboard, back and forth. “That’s… No, fuck. What the hell? You don’t know anything. You don’t fucking know anything.”

“And why is that? Because you won’t talk to me, Javier.”

He throws his hands up in frustration, his voice elevating as he responds. “It’s my business. I’m entitled to not talk about it if I don’t want to.”

You shake your head in disbelief at his obstinance and sigh. This wasn’t going anywhere. Shifting in the bed, you swing your legs over the side of it and stand, looking back at him briefly to respond. “Sure. Whatever. Screw this, Javi. I’m going home.”

Home.

There’s that stupid word again. You were starting to feel like it was more here, more with Javi and with Chucho, than it was anywhere else.

You suppose you were wrong.

Javi’s voice shifts as he starts to plead with you, “Wait, cariño, hold on-”

His begging falls on deaf ears as you collect your things from around the room and head out as quickly as you can, slamming his bedroom door behind you as you rush out, flustered. By the time you get to the front door, you remember you don’t even have your car. Javi drove you here earlier this afternoon. You pause, hand hovering over the doorknob, and you hear someone clearing their throat behind you.

Fuck. Chucho.

You turn around to see him sitting up in the recliner, head tilted to the side as he regards you. His rough voice soothes you after the piercing tones of Javi’s frustration.

“Heading out, mija?” You sigh, visibly deflating at the kind and caring tone he always offers you.

“I was going to, but-”

He cuts you off so you don’t even need to say it yourself. “You need a ride?” As you nod in response, he starts to stand, slowly, knees creaking as he rises. “Come on. I’ll take you.”

You’re grateful beyond belief that he doesn’t push further, doesn’t ask why Javi isn’t out in the living room, or why you need a ride from someone not his son. He just gets up and silently throws on his boots, grabbing his keys from a hook behind the door as he pushes outside, holding the door for you. You climb into the passenger seat of his pickup truck, fastening your seatbelt as he starts it up and pulls around the driveway, heading back onto those same winding roads you had come to love.

A few minutes into the drive, he clears his throat, his wide-brimmed hat tipping in your direction. “I’m not going to ask you if you want to talk about it, because I’m sure you don’t. But I have a few things I’d like to say, if that’s okay.” You turn toward him, eyes trained on the side of his face as he clears his throat again, reaching down to take a sip of the water bottle sitting in the cupholder between you two.

You nod with a small, under-your-breath ‘okay’, and fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to begin.

“First, I hope he hasn’t scared you away from me and from the house. I’d be lost if you stopped coming by.” You shake your head vehemently, floored by the suggestion.

“No, never, Chucho. Nothing’s gonna keep me away. I’ll figure out how to deal with this.”

He nods somberly, fingers tapping on the large steering wheel. “Good. That’s good. Now… in the case of my son, I know he can be a lot for many reasons. He’s quite the stupid boy when he wants to be. But he’s been through the wringer since he was young. There’s a lot I’m sure he hasn’t told you, and it’s not my place to say, but just know that he comes to you with a lot of baggage. He’s misguided sometimes, and I can only set him so far in the right direction. He’s been lost for a long time.”

You blink back at him, not shocked by the news nearly as much as you think you should be. It makes sense, given his reaction to you today, and especially given the horrible things that came out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like your Javier.

“Now I know that I’m an old man, and it’s been a long time since I fell in love, but I can see when two people are right for each other. You two… you are right for each other. You’re good together, and you make each other better. I’ve seen it firsthand, especially these last few weeks. Javi is much more pleasant to be around these days.”

You smile at the compliment and lean over to squeeze his shoulder lightly in gratitude.

“Just… give him a chance. Please. I know he can be good for you, too, if he can just get his act together.”

You nod and sigh, shoulders dropping as you take in his words. “I want to. I want to so badly. But I’m afraid that I’m scaring him away, Chucho. I’m not what he wants… he doesn’t want someone this serious, this willing to move things along.”

“Ask him about it, mija. Make him talk to you. There’s so much there. You can help him, I know it. You’re only the second woman he’s ever brought home.” You’re shocked by that admission, to say the least. It was easy to tell that Javi was more into flings than serious relationships given his highly flirtatious personality, but in almost 40 years… only one other person? It surprises you, makes you start trying to rethink the experiences you’ve had with him so far, rethink every comment and frustration. You’re vaguely curious who that other person was, what happened with them.

“I’ll try, Chucho. He just makes it so difficult, sometimes.”

“I know. Believe me, I know he does. But he loves you - I can see it in the way his eyes light up when you arrive, and in the way he pines over you when you’re away. And you do, too. That’s something real - when you have it, don’t let it go. Fight for it. You’re lucky if you find something like that even once in your life.”

Is it really that obvious to Chucho?

You’re more than shocked - you’re amazed by the suggestion. Here you’ve been thinking the whole thing has been one-sided, all stuck on you and your overly ambitious heart.

“Then why does he make it so hard for me to be able to love him back? The right way? Why does he have to make it so difficult?”

Chucho sighs and shrugs, glancing over at you briefly. “That’s Javi’s story to tell, mija, but he’s a fool if he’s trying to write you off completely.”

You thump your head back against the bench seat, arms crossing over your chest. “I just don’t know how to make him see me. See any of this. It’s like he has blinders on or something.”

Chucho nods along and answers, “he does, mija. Installed by a host of events that I can’t disclose on his behalf. But he does have blinders on, absolutely. He’s not seeing straight, not thinking clearly. He’s running on fear and anxiety if anything.”

You’re shocked by that suggestion. “Fear? He’s afraid of me?”

“No, mija. He’s afraid of putting himself out there.” He pulls onto your street, finding a place to pull over next to the sidewalk in front of your apartment and putting the truck in park.

“I don’t think he’s going to listen to me, Chucho. He’s dead set on destroying things all on his own.” He sighs, turning and placing a hand gently on your thigh.

“Just give him a chance, mija. Please. I’m begging you. If anyone can do it, it’s you. Just give him another chance.” You nod back at him and offer him an uneasy smile.

“I will. If he’ll let me. I don’t know if he’s going to let me, though, Chucho.”

He looks at you very seriously at first, but then the serious look morphs quickly into a smirk. He winks at you. “Trust me on this one, if you can.”

You chuckle nervously but smile and respond before getting out of the car and heading up the stairs, back to your lonely apartment.

“Alright. I will.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A/N: And here be the angst. I promise it doesn't linger for too long, but Javi's been through too much to just have things go easy the entire time! These two still have lots ahead of them!

Let me know what you think! Your interactions and comments and criticisms and all of it are so so so very appreciated!

xoxoxo

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NEXT PART (VIII) HERE

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