#jeremy swayman fic

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

rot my teeth, melt these cotton candy lips, i'd let you; left this trail of breadcrumb broken hearts so you'd follow me home.

js1 x reader: the fisherman puts the heartbreaker out of commission.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (f on m), idk like marking and lots of limbs and obviously we've been warned about the talking. i know i'm forgetting a lot but all my usual suspects. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: favorites! what's new? probably nothing, right? (love a self-reference). this should serve as a warning for all of you - if you drop an anonymous ask, no matter how simple, you are running the risk of me emerging from my cave of teeth with a 14k story about someone i barely noticed until recently. and i may, consequently, become weirdly infatuated with a random third line winger (tf11) and force him into my story. my obvious disclaimers of lack of realism and weirdly flowery language and crazy plotholes and status as fiction are still very much on the table. of course i know nothing about being a private chef, or alaska, for that matter. so, uh, congrats to js1 on being an all-star, i guess? this is your prize! i posted about what's going on in my world recently - there's a lot, it's a lot, and just know that no matter what, what i feel most for you is gratitude. thank you. tell me what you think, i live for it. takeaway for today - your past does not determine who you are, what you are capable of. no matter how many guys insist it does, your body count and/or experience, or lack thereof, even, is irrelevant to the lovely person you are. you are a treasure, and you deserve to be treated accordingly. may we all find partners who think they're dreaming when they look at us. my snakes told me to tell your snakes they have a crush on them. okay, until next time, go canucks. all my love).

summers, for you, had always been something magical.

when you were young, they meant lake house vacations and playing tennis with your siblings and strawberry shortcake, grass stains and popsicles. when you were in school, they meant working as a line cook at a country club, a job and space that felt all your own, they meant salty beach days with your friends and pulling the caddies (the cute ones, at least) behind the clubhouse, kisses that tasted like gatorade.

now, a bit older, summers meant something different, but they were still magical. during the year, you worked as a personal chef for the same lovely family, the montgomerys, that you had built a trusting relationship with - a family that travelled extensively over the summer, leaving you, each may, to look for temporary work elsewhere.

you took work from whatever family offered you the best gig any given summer, usually on a referral from your main employer, usually a place like nantucket or charleston or something like that.

last summer, spent in the hamptons, you cooked for the family of mrs. montgomery's best friend. it had been a season of fish tacos and roasted artichoke salad and berry cobbler, cut with fireworks and white linen dresses and aperol spritzes.

this summer, mr. montgomery's coworker, mr. kelly, had hired you to keep him and his family fed for the season while they summered up at their alaskan vacation home.

so, this job, it wasn't new, not really. you were a seasoned professional in the world of being a private chef, in recipe building and gardening and plate presentation.

this place, however, this small town in alaska, was completely and utterly unfamiliar. you had met the kellys a few times, so you knew the parents and their adorable young son, but that was where the recognition would end. the rest was new, foreign.

you loved the prospect of learning a new place, though, like earning a new badge on a girl-scout sash. your mind hummed on the flight over as you thought about different seasonal produce, a new set of tastes and preferences to account for, techniques for preparing the seafood that would surely be spectacular.

a new set of streets to know the names of, a new community to put faces to, a new routine to settle into.

summers were magical, for you, they always had been, and you knew this one would be no different.

this was very much not the hamptons, though, you realized, very quickly upon landing at the tiny airport, which had only a few gates. which was fine, you considered, you didn't need to work at some crazy expensive beach town, or anything, but this place was kind of, well, scarce, maybe?

the taxi ride to the house was fast, a blur of main street and trees and not much else. finally, you arrived, a flurry of suitcases and thank yous and hair in your face.

the kellys welcomed you, all open arms from the mrs and kind smiles from the mr and timid waves from their son, stanley. they showed you to your room, gave you a quick tour, left you to settle in before the work started tomorrow.

exhausted from travel, you fell asleep quickly and dreamlessly.

the next morning, you awoke to the sun streaming in through the window, warm and lazy. after getting ready, you made your way downstairs, had your planning meeting with the family.

they told you their preferences, the important dates of the summer, when people would be coming over. thankfully, there were no allergies. they showed you to their garden.

"we'd love if you got some use out of it," mrs. kelly said, a gentle hand on your shoulder, "lord knows i don't give it enough attention."

"we're so excited to have you," mr. kelly said, "thanks again for doing this. see you for dinner?"

you called out your confirmation as you grabbed your market bags, began the five-minute walk to downtown, to the pier. the walk was peaceful, the air pleasant and fresh.

you made your way through main street slowly and methodically, learning the stores and their energies, their offerings. the market, sure, that would be where you spent a majority of your time, but you tried out the bookstore, too, the coffee shop, the vintage store.

before you knew it, your arms were loaded with bags, overflowing with produce and ingredients, a couple books, a bag of coffee beans, a vintage silk scarf.

your arms were full, but you still decided to make one last stop, at the fish market, all the way at the end of main street.

the smell made you scrunch up your nose, if only slightly, as you pushed the door open with your hip, heard the bell ring over your head.

you made your way to the glass display case, surveyed all the different seafood over ice. you were thinking salmon, for tonight, something simple that everyone would like.

you picked your head up, looked behind the counter, found nobody to help you. "uh, hello?" you called out. "anyone home?"

almost immediately, two tall figures came barreling out of the back, through the double doors. two men, bottom half in fishing gear, the rubbery protective pants attached to suspenders, which laid over black long sleeves.

"what's up?" one of them, the dirty blonde, said, his voice deep, almost cartoonish.

"hi," you said, "i'm looking for some salmon."

"didn't look very hard, did you?" the blonde said, teasing, nodding down to where the mass of pink fish laid atop the plane of ice. he cut a look to his coworker, who's gaze hadn't dropped from you since he came through the door. "but, uh, i think my friend jeremy's gonna help you out," he said, "i, uh, gotta do somethin' in the back real quick."

the blonde made a quick and forced exit, forcing you to turn and face the other man behind the counter.

"okay?" you said, halfway confused. "you're jeremy, then?"

there was a pause potent with awkwardness as he stood there, blinking at you.

a pause during which you realized, however slowly, that this man across the counter was sort of beautiful. beautiful in a way you weren't used to, beautiful in a way your men of the summer had not been before.

it was sort of an inside joke now, between you and your friends. how, no matter where you were, what job you were working, you'd have a "summer boyfriend," a guy with a finish line, someone pretty and nice enough to hang around until the sun set over the blood orange summer skyline one final time. your best friend joked that it was a seasonal position, almost like an internship.

the caddies you went for when you were a little younger were division one golfers, with all of the laser-focus and goody-two-shoes attitudes to match.

last summer, in the hamptons, it'd been a beachfront bartender named mat, all easy charm and comic book facial structure. he'd cared a little too much about his physique, said a little too much about what you'd cook for him, but he'd also been really sweet, sometimes, letting you borrow his jackets whenever you got cold on the beach.

jeremy, though, he didn't look like the laced-up amateur golfers, and he didn't seem like the discipline-fueled superhero, either. he was tall, for sure, tall enough that your neck craned slightly to get a good look at him, and wide in the shoulders.

it was his face that really got you, though - even with that sharp jaw, he just looked so soft, so gentle, so tender, like he wore every emotion across his face completely and utterly shamelessly. his eyes had welled up with something you had the sneaking suspicion was just kindness, brimming on his waterline, threatening to spill forward like salty tears.

you waved a hand in front of his face, cleared your throat, felt the slightest of blushes across your nose. "earth to jeremy?"

you watched consciousness creep into his eyes, cloud over the awe that was previously there. he gave a rigorous shake of his head, as if to snap himself out of a trance. "sorry, beauty," he said, and his voice was so genuine, so unabashed, it made you smile, your stomach turn. "must think 'm a real space cadet, eh?"

you shifted the bags in your hands. "well, you did just zone out for a bit," you said.

he let out a laugh, and it bubbled out of him, uninhibited. "my fault," he admitted, "i was thinking, 'woah, am i in a dream right now?' and then i was like 'wait, no, i don't dream about work,' but you look straight 'outta a daydream, beauty, i swear it."

his manner of speaking dripped with honesty, like every aspect of his thoughts was completely on the table, like you were someone entitled to knowing exactly what was going on in his head.

you averted your gaze at his confession. when was the last time someone had made you feel practically timid?

when you spoke, your voice felt unsure. "whatever you say," you told him. "maybe you could help me, now? i-"

"anything," he said, completely stone-faced and serious, which forced a laugh from your throat.

"right," you said, a slight smile quirking up on your lips. "i'm hoping to get some salmon for dinner tonight?"

he hummed, a sound you felt in your chest. your fingers twitched. "you cook, too?" he asked, sounded almost pained as he leaned his head onto a hand, the other flat on the counter.

you nodded absentmindedly. "'m a private chef. anyways, need enough for four, five people, maybe?"

"at your service, beauty," he said, in that funny voice, and then he shot you a wink before snapping his gloves on. the tips of your ears must have been a vengeful pink, at this point.

as he prepared the fish for you to take home, weighing it and wrapping it in paper, you set your bags down on the ground, stretched your arms out above your head, your body stiff from holding so many things.

"that's a 'lotta bags, there," jeremy said, nodding towards the floor. "what're you hoarding in 'em?" his smile pulled at his mouth, revealed a flash of white teeth that was nothing but teasing, kind.

you ran a palm across the back of your neck. "it's my first day on the job," you said, "first dinner for the new family, want to make a good impression."

he gave a light-hearted scoff. "ever made a bad impression?"

you rolled your eyes at him. "you don't know me, jeremy," you reminded him, not mean, almost a sing-songy melody in your voice.

he put up one hand in mock-surrender. "'course, you're right," he said, "just find it hard to believe, 's all."

"okay, sweet-talker," you chided, shifting on your feet as he finished wrapping up your fish.

his grin was triumphant. "think 'm sweet, do you, beauty?"

you handed over your payment, ran your tongue along your teeth as he gently took it from your fingers. you let that confidence well up in your gaze, willed the smile that worked on everyone.

the one that convinced caddies that maybe they could take a quick break, that maybe they deserved to have a little fun, the one that convinced the bartender everyone had lusted over that you were the only girl in the world, that no one else was worthy of his attention.

"oh, you'd rot my teeth, jeremy," you teased as you slotted the paper package into a bag, took back your credit card, loaded your arms full again, made for the door.

you looked over your shoulder one last time, found him leaning on his palm, again, watching you, practically with a wistful sigh. "'m not rotten," he said, gaze alight with something dangerous.

you smiled at him. "goodbye, rotten boy," you said, leaving as the bell rung above you, feeling his gaze on your back the entire time, until the air around you smelled less of the sea and more of the forest, like tree-sap and soil.

you fell into a routine quickly, like you had planned on, like you were so used to doing. you prepped and planned and worked on recipes. you cooked and cleaned up after yourself and looked after the garden with diligence. you spent your free mornings walking to get coffee, your free weekends exploring the nearby beaches and lakes and trails.

you gained the trust of the kellys, until they treated you like family. until mr. kelly was asking when your crabcakes would be making another appearance, until mrs. kelly was swearing there was sorcery involved in your strip steak, until little stanley would sneak into the kitchen when you were making dessert, just because he knew there would be some cookie dough to spare, maybe a finger swipe of brownie batter.

until the garden was looking almost complete, the pantries and fridge fully stocked, until the menu had a fairly regular rotation.

you made your first friend a few weeks into the summer, one morning, waiting in the short line for your daily coffee. you had long ago come to terms with the fact that, yes, it would probably be cheaper to make coffee at home, but you'd soak the economic losses to support a small business. coffee was one thing you'd spend money on, no matter where you were.

so, this morning, you were second in line, which should have meant a short wait, but the middle-aged man in front of you was taking a truly devastating amount of time to make a decision.

the poor teenager working the register was trying not to be rude, you could tell, but after a couple minutes, the growing line had begun to grow restless.

you were about to tap the man on the shoulder, but the woman behind you, maybe your age, a bit older, beat you to it.

"jesus christ, jerry!" she bit out, "just get your regular, or i'll run an article about how someone so indecisive shouldn't own a hardware store!" she huffed out an angry breath, shook her head as a scared jerry ordered a drip coffee with cream.

you met the woman's eye, and she smiled at you. "hey, new kid," she said, sticking out her hand. "i'm tj, local paper."

impressed, you shook her hand, gave her your name. "local paper, eh?" you asked, "lots of coffee shop and hardware store headlines?"

she laughed as you stepped forward and ordered your americano, motioned for her to order, too. "we don't get a lot of blockbuster news, around here," she said, making to pay, but you held out a hand to stop her. "you're probably just about the most interesting news we've had all year, since the frederic's dog got lost."

you hummed. "i could use you on my side, tj," you mused, "could help me get up to speed with this place."

she tilted her head, appeared in thought for a second before eventually nodding. "sure, new kid, i'll get you all caught up," she agreed. "and not just because you bought my coffee."

you laughed. "anytime," you offered.

"say, same time tomorrow?" she asked, headed for the door, swinging her shoulder bag around. "meet here?"

you agreed and waved goodbye. she saluted you, let the door close behind her.

"that girl's a terror," jerry warned you, careful.

"good," you told him. "all the best girls are."

as promised, you met up with tj the next morning, bought her coffee with your own before making your way up main street.

"so, i'm sure you're already familiar, because you've been here for a bit," she said, in step with you, "but we'll go over the basics."

"honestly, i don't know much," you said, "i'm at the market almost every day, every other place i've been only once or twice. and besides the kellys, you're the first local person i know by name." a flash of molten brown eyes and a tender smile blazed across your mind like a comet. "well, second."

tj's gaze shimmered, and you guessed this was the curiosity that makes someone want to be a reporter. "who else?" she asked.

"no one, really," you said, "this guy in the fish market, jeremy, but we talked for like a second."

she nodded like she understood. "oh, the fish market," she sighed. "the two biggest goofballs in town." she shot you a look. "don't worry, we'll make a stop there."

"oh, we don't have to, i'll go back eventually, mr. kelly's been wanting crab, anyways-"

"we'll make a stop there," she repeated, and that was that. first, though, she introduced you to the owner of the grocery store, an old woman who whispered to you that all the best stuff gets delivered on wednesdays.

next was the pizza place, and all the teenagers who seemed to be running it. "luke likes jenna, but jenna has a thing for her friend kayla," tj whispered to you as the door shut behind you.

"this is the kind of inside scoop you're privy to, eh?" you asked, amused.

she shrugged. "it's a real mixed bag. i'd never, like, run a story on the love lives of high schoolers, but everything is significant in a town this small."

you hummed, supposing she was right.

between the vintage store and the post office, she asked about your history, where you were from, your job.

"sounds like a pretty sweet gig," she said with an impressed sort of shrug.

you nodded. "it's a lot of work, but it's pretty awesome," you said, honestly. you loved what you did, and felt very lucky to be doing it.

"come back soon, girls!" mailwoman mindy called out after you both. you waved your thanks.

eventually, after your head was overcrowded with insider information and useless gossip all the same, you and tj stood in front of the fish market, the smell making your palms sweat with the memory of last time.

when was the last time a guy made you nervous? you shivered the thought away as tj pushed open the door.

"right, so this is the frederic's business, has been for decades," she said, "boys! show yourselves!"

on cue, the two men from last time shouldered through the double doors with the same lack of gracefulness.

"good morning, sunshine," the blonde said, almost taunting, looking right at tj, "to what do we owe this great pleasure?"

your friend looked particularly annoyed, all of a sudden. "'m giving new kid a tour," she said, gesturing to you, "she says she's been here, but i figured you probably didn't introduce yourself."

"right, as always, you sleuther," he said, making up the word, before turning to you. "i'm trent. and i remember you." he smirked, nodded to his coworker. "guy's been moanin' and cryin' 'bout when you'd come back."

"nice to officially meet you, trent," you said, giving him your name before finally allowing yourself to look at jeremy, whose gaze you'd felt like the sun on your face since he entered. he was every bit as beautiful, as genuine, as painstakingly tender as you'd remembered. "hey, jeremy." your words came out softer than you meant them to.

"hey, beauty," he replied, almost disbelieving, his hair just a bit shaggier than you remembered.

his smile was something brutal.

your grin was sly as you rolled your neck to the side, let his gaze drip over you greedily, but never shamefully.

tj cleared her throat. "well, not much of anything interesting happens on this end of the pier," she said, to which trent placed a wounded hand over his heart.

"no gossip for me, tj?" you asked, almost surprised, but not quite. these two seemed like open books, if jeremy's telling gaze was anything to go by. not to mention the fondness that had invaded trent's eyes when looking at your new friend, the way your eyes settle on your science class crush in middle school.

"you'll tell me something useful eventually, won't you, boys?" tj asked.

"guess you'll have to keep coming back, then. to find out," was trent's smug reply.

you weren't listening to their banter, really, though, not anymore, because you had drifted closer to jeremy, felt yourself walk over to him as if pulled by some thread. until you were leaning forward on the counter, like you were about to tell him a secret. until you could see each of his dark lashes, the light smattering of freckles on his nose.

"been moanin' and cryin', eh?" you teased, little more than a whisper, tilting your head at him.

"wouldn't've had to," he said, but it came out like a whine. "if you'd've come back to see me."

what would it be like, to be just, so, so honest? with others, with yourself? so honest, it rendered you just about speechless. almost.

you gave him that smile. "rotten boy," you said, watched his gaze become drenched in corn syrup. "so impatient, hm?"

"when do i get to see you again?" he asked, undeterred, not unaffected but so beautifully unembarrassed in his focus on the more, the next.

"soon," was all you said. he gave you a pout that you wanted to bite down on.

"alright, we're off," tj said, her voice pulling you from the daydream you had settled into. "when you've got something i can use, you know where to find me, frederic."

"you can use me anytime, tj!" he pronounced her name like tee-j, smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"good to meet you, trent," you said, "jeremy, i'll see you around."

"not if i see you first, beauty!" his goofy voice called out after you.

as luck would have it, you didn't even have to wait for the weekend to see him again. because, the universe, you were convinced, was trying to force you closer, closer, closer to this tall, kind, man with eyes that glittered. and what was there to do, really, except say thank you?

stanley, whom you had come to grow close to, whose laugh was like a bell, who was quiet but observant and passionate about things like glaciers and rainstorms, had started fishing camp earlier that week, but this afternoon, neither of his parents could pick him up.

"i know it's not in your job description, and i promise it won't be a regular thing," mrs. kelly had said to you over the phone, "but could you swing by the pier super quick to walk him home?"

and of course you had agreed, told her it wasn't any trouble at all.

and it really wasn't any trouble at all, until trouble was staring you straight in the face.

until you stood on the pier, waiting your turn in the pick-up line, and spotted trouble, himself, lifting kids by the waist from the small boat onto the dock.

he sparkled with life, in all of his gear, down to his water-proof boots. he appeared to have made something of a game out of pick up, making a rocket-ship noise as he hoisted kids into the air before setting them down. their laughter rang out in the clear air.

you could feel your heart beat in your chest, suddenly became acutely aware of what you were wearing, how your hair looked. this nervous energy was so foreign to you, it almost felt like a sickness, like a cold.

you scolded yourself to calm down, willed your heartbeat to normalize. these nerves, they weren't you - or at least, they weren't the you that you were used to. they were not the careless summer you that you had come to know and love. they were part of a different you, one that was not as familiar, perhaps one you believed to be not as magical.

"beauty!" you were pulled from your self-conscious daze by jeremy approaching you with agile steps, until he was right in front of you, larger than life, unobstructed by a counter for the first time. before you could do or say anything, his thick arms were around you, pulling you tight against his chest in a hug that muffled your surprise, maybe confusion. you didn't know him, he didn't know you, yet he was doling out hugs like they cost him nothing? "so happy you're here," he said into your hair, and you could have laughed at the absurdity of it all.

maybe you would have, if his embrace didn't feel so right around you, if his chest wasn't so expansive, yet so soft, if you didn't feel so completely safe, practically at peace in his arms. maybe you would have laughed, if there had been anything funny about this.

you rubbed circles into his back with your palm, almost dazed. "you work fishing camp?" you asked into his chest, felt the heat of your exhale in your face.

he didn't let you go, not yet, only pulled his head back slightly so he could talk to you, face to face. "oh, yeah," he said, generous with his smile, "boat captain of the baby minnows, more like."

you couldn't help your smile. "okay, big shot," you said, feigning being impressed. "do i call you captain, then?"

did you imagine the way his eyes darkened, if only for a second, a storm cloud over the sea line? did you imagine the way his embrace grew heated? did you imagine the way you wanted it to?

"think 'd let you call me just about anything," he said, breathy, and the air sparked.

he's not for you, a voice whispered in your head. he's not your seasonal plaything.

you coughed, tried to gracefully step away from him. he let you, didn't seem to be bothered by it. "have you seen stanley?" you asked, your skin itching to feel his arms around you, again.

jeremy smiled. "stan, stan, my bug-saving man? he's 'round here somewhere." he looked around, his gaze finally settling on the boy you were looking for, bent over a rock, looking at some critter that had caught his eye. "there he is." the two of you walked over to him. "not just here to see me, then? pickup takes priority?"

he didn't sound disappointed, not even sad, really, but almost wistful, hopeful. his words upset you, though, which scared you. it scared you, how much you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

it was this scared part of you that took his wide hand in yours and squeezed, which made his gaze cut to yours, wide, surprised. "'m happy to see you," you said, and it felt forbidden to say so, but you did it anyways.

you were happy for the distraction of the kid in front of you as you reluctantly let go of jeremy's hand and crouched down. "hey, stanley," you said, so as not to spook him.

he hummed his hello, pointed to the beetle in the dirt. "look," he said, seemingly content with just observing.

"i see," you said, "pretty cool." you had never been the best at talking to children. somehow, jeremy seemed to sense this.

"guess what, stan?" he said, eyes wide, like him and this small boy were in on some secret.

"what?" stan said.

"your friend over here told me that the first one home gets an extra special dessert tonight," he stage-whispered. stan's eyes grew wide at this information. he promptly took off, in the direction of home.

thank you, you mouthed to jeremy as you made to follow stan.

he ran a hand through his hair. "thankful enough for a helping of dessert tomorrow?" he called out after you.

you scrunched up your face playfully. "rotten!" you said, loud enough for him to hear, which made his bright laugh echo behind you, echo in your head. the feeling of his embrace, of his hand in yours, of his laugh in your mind, it all followed you home, where it stayed.

it lingered for long after, into days spent wrapped up in work, throwing yourself into your everyday tasks so that a certain someone would stay at an arm's length, so that your head might maintain some semblance of clearness.

between shucking corn and braising short rib, though, whenever you weren't entirely preoccupied, your mind would wander to corded shoulders under black long sleeves, to giggly belly-laughs and honesty that made you blush.

it was your wandering mind that had you seeking out stan, when he and his dad got back from fishing camp pick-up. "how was today?" you asked him, gentle, probing.

he shrugged.

"anything to report?" you tried, hoping maybe he'd say something about jeremy, but you'd take an update on the bugs and slithery things he seemed to like so much, too. you pushed a bowl of chocolate pudding and strawberries across to counter to him, placing a finger to your lips in a request for secrecy.

this, stan seemed to understand. "didn't catch anything," he said, digging into his treat. "set all the worms free."

you suppressed a laugh. "was jeremy mad at you?" you knew the answer though, knew it would take a lot more than that to make him anything close to angry.

stan shook his head, and his eyes flickered with a memory. "he told me to tell you about the pier party."

"what's the pier party?" you asked.

another shrug. you figured you'd ask tj about it.

"did he say anything else?" you asked, trying to mask the hope in your gaze, which probably appeared kind of scary to this kid.

stan thought for a moment, then his face scrunched up in distaste. "oh, and he told me to tell you that his hair looked really good today."

"did it?" you asked.

"not really," stan said, and then he laughed, muffled around his spoon, forcing a laugh from you, too.

following clarification with tj about what the pier party was (like a block party, summer tradition, that weekend), you walked downtown with the kellys on saturday night to find the pier all lit up, local vendors having set up stands, music playing from speakers, kids running around everywhere.

the night air was warm and sticky, making your thighs feel damp, your hair heavy on the back of your neck.

stan ran off with some of his friends from camp, the kellys joined a conversation with some people they knew, leaving you to find tj.

you quickly spotted her, leaning on a post next to the cooler, writing something down in her nearly-abused notebook.

"no days off, eh?" you said, amused, when you approached her, making her look up, roll her eyes at you as she shut her notebook, clicked her pen and shoved it into her messy bun.

"inspiration is everywhere," she said, joking, but you could tell there was some truth to her statement. "drink?"

"no, thanks," you said. you had grown sort of disenfranchised with the whole alcohol thing since last summer. not in a pretentious way, or a judgmental way, you didn't mind at all if others drank. you just didn't like the way it made you feel, sort of sluggish and swollen, and as soon as you'd stopped, you realized you didn't really miss it. "what were you writing?"

she opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by a funny, cracking voice. "oh, that's not her work book," trent said, grinning. "that's her diary. 'm sure my name's makin' quite a few appearances."

"in your dreams, frederic," tj chided, shoving the notebook into her bag nonetheless as trent pulled the pen from her hair, tucked it behind his own ear.

of course, where one was, the other was never far behind, so you weren't all that surprised to feel jeremy slide into place beside you. you did become momentarily distracted, though, by the smell of him so close, by the fact that he wasn't wearing his gear, instead opting for casual pants and a t-shirt you thought appeared a little too small.

you swallowed around your distraction, lodged in your throat, at his arms, thick with muscle, his body less-so obstructed by water-proof gear and more-so highlighted by his everyday clothes.

when your eyes finally found his, he looked positively delighted by your distraction.

you shook your head. "sorry," you said immediately.

his smile only grew. "don't be, beauty," he said, giving the arm not holding his beer a hard flex, posing like a bodybuilder, making you laugh. "just get my good side, hm?"

maybe it was his easy humor that had honesty welling up in you like a cresting wave. "every side's your good side," you said, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, willing him to relax. rest, you might as well have whispered into his ear. you can rest, with me. "you're so good."

that's what he seemed to hear it as, anyways, as his gaze melted into something like awe, like wonder, like pure kindness. when he spoke, there was a rasp to it that made you shiver. "want a drink?" he asked.

you weren't embarrassed to shake your head, softly. "'m not into drinking, right now," you said, then realized that could be taken as judgmental. "but i don't mind if you do, like, at all."

his expression didn't change, though, as he held out his beer bottle to trent, snagging his attention from whatever conversation he had roped tj into. "freddy, finish this for me, eh?"

trent just shrugged, took it from his hand, downed it in one go. tj grimaced. "you're gross," she said.

"it's saturday night," trent said with a one-shouldered shrug, as if that explained everything.

"you didn't have to do that," you told jeremy. "i really don't mind."

he just waved you off with a smile as trent and tj continued their argument about being appropriate at a neighborhood party.

the song that floated through the thick air grew slower, maybe something like the last song at a middle school dance. something that had the older couples swaying in time with each other, that had luke gazing across the pier at jenna, who was laughing with kayla. something that had jeremy extending a broad hand to you. "may i have this dance?" he asked, like some old-timey medieval, and you could have laughed, if he didn't appear to be completely serious.

so you only smiled, took his hand, said, "you may."

you set your free hand on his shoulder, tried not to blush at the firmness you felt under your palm as his other hand rested on your waist. you swayed and moved together gently, slowly, in time with the song, the pier under your sandals.

in a moment of indulgence, you dug your hand harder into his shoulder, massaging the muscle there. "a little tense, hm?" you said, meeting his gaze, coated in bliss.

maybe it backfired, a little, though, when he let out a little groan at your touch, at the feeling of your careful hand undoing the knots in the pocket between his shoulder and neck. something stirred in your stomach. you exhaled slowly.

the moment felt oddly charged, a sensual eye in the hurricane of normality around the two of you.

he hummed. "consequence of the job," he said, giving you a slight spin.

"it's tough on you, eh?" you asked, genuine, his touch on your waist distracting. time seemed to melt like a fourth-of-july popsicle.

he shrugged, a movement you felt in your fingers. "'m tough," he said, and you could tell he knew it to be true, knew it to be a keystone of his being.

you nodded, because you knew this, too. "can tell," you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. "feel it in your hands."

his eyes became glossy, for a moment, like your admission was too much for his consciousness to bare.

this glossy look spurred you on, made the flirt in you emerge with a vengeance. "like to break a bit of a sweat, yeah?"

and he was nodding before you got the words out, feverish, almost desperate.

the music felt far away, up in the clouds, below the surface of the sea. it felt like you two might have been there, too, waltzing in some misty sky dreamland, some foamy ocean kingdom.

it felt perfect, he felt perfect, and when you went to sleep that night, your waist felt cold without his wide palm against it. your fingers twitched without his firm grip around them.

the next day, you called one of your old friends from the city, who had known you for a long time, who was the kind of friend that, no matter how much time had passed from when you last spoke, you would pick up right where you left off, no matter what.

you asked her about how she was doing, how her partner was, her job, her house renovations.

"alright, enough about me, i'm boring myself to death," she said after getting you effectively caught up. "tell me about your summer adventures, so much more exciting than redoing the master bath."

you laughed, and you told her about the kellys, their beautiful home, this lovely town. you told her about how the air was just different up here, how everything tasted fresher, how you had made a friend who made you laugh.

"and who's the lucky guy?" she said, eventually, as you sort of knew she would. at your silence, you could practically hear her disbelief. "don't tell me you don't have a seasonal hire, yet? how small is this town?"

you rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "it's not that," you said, "i mean, there is this guy, and he's really, really-" you trailed off, kind of, tried to think of how to describe him. scarily kind? handsome and beautiful at the same time? you let out a small laugh. "well, he makes me nervous, i guess."

there was a pause. "you're telling me," your friend said, slow and pronounced. "there's a guy in this universe who can make you nervous? and he's in alaska?"

"it's weird, right?" you said, almost laughing at yourself.

"weird? it's unprecedented!" there was a squeal from the other end of the line. "so, you've been there for a couple weeks now, right? so you must know him pretty well?"

you looked down at your hand, flexed it, cleared your throat. "i, uh, haven't really, like, initiated anything with him," you admitted. "i don't know, it doesn't feel like how it normally does. like i feel like my order and timing is all wrong, like i'm behind and going too fast at the same time."

"holy fuck," your friend said. "you, like, really like him. that's what really being into someone is, babe. exactly that."

you swallowed, blushed, even though her words just confirmed what you already had suspected.

"you have to ask him out," she said, as if she had made up her mind. "or, like, i don't know, next time you see him, just, like, kiss him, or something."

you laughed, rubbed your palm against your leg. "pretty sure there's, like, laws against that," you joked, but you got her point. whether you liked it or not, all signs were pointing to you being completely taken with jeremy. and even if it had happened quickly, and even if it wasn't in your typical summer style, perhaps it was time to do something about it.

"next time you call i'm expecting a wedding announcement," were your friend's eventual parting words. "and i like a sweetheart neckline for my bridesmaid's dress." you said your goodbyes and hung up with well wishes and a plan.

a plan that involved picking up some crab from the fish market the following day.

of course, when you entered, the main space was empty, as it always was.

"jeremy?" you called out, "you there?"

"coming!" came that tell-tale voice.

if trent was there too, he didn't make his presence known, as it was only the brown-haired boy who came bursting in from the back, eyes wide with delight when he registered your figure. he actually gave a little laugh, short and boyish. "beauty!" he said, like he couldn't believe his luck. "so soon?"

he didn't stay behind the counter, either, this time coming all the way around to lean against the display case, face you head-on. it was hard to imagine a time when the sight of him like this wouldn't make your mouth dry, just a little. when him, close to you, wouldn't make your heart sing.

he looked conflicted, standing in front of you now, like he didn't quite know what to do with his hands. that made the two of you - because what lines did you still want to remain in place? what boundaries did you want to abolish entirely?

your exhale felt like a bloodstained white flag, waving. "couldn't wait any longer to see you," you said, simply, trying on some of his honesty like a hand-me-down leather jacket. it made you feel just as cool.

and it was worth it to see the way he practically melted at your words, the way his eyes softened, how he seemed to lean further into the display case for support more than comfort.

maybe to push your luck, maybe because you knew you weren't really pushing it at all, you swung your bag to your back, opened up your arms, only a little timidly, stepped forward a bit.

the elementary school bully in your head snickered at your awkwardness, but jeremy only pushed out of his lean immediately, wrapped his thick arms around your frame until your nose was pressed against the black cotton of his shirt. he was warm, so warm, and smelled like the sea, and you had to have been imagining how your limbs practically gave a sigh of relief to feel him hold you again.

how could this possibly be? for so long, you'd been the heartbreaker that boys warned their friends about, and now you were weak in the knees because of a hug?

jeremy laughed, and it rumbled through your body.

"what?" you asked into his firm chest as your fingers fluttered on his back.

he didn't say anything, only pulled his head back a bit, a motion your mirrored until you were staring up at him, curious.

his gaze was almost dazed as he reached a hand up, pinched at your cheek.

you made a sound like it hurt more on instinct than actuality, batting his hand away nonetheless. "what was that for?"

he laughed, leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to where his fingers had been, making your nose and cheeks erupt in strawberry pink. the most tender touch you'd felt, almost embarrassingly soft, enough to make you want to hide your face.

his humor was evident in his tone when he spoke. "had to make sure i wasn't dreaming," he clarified. "with you showin' up here, sayin' you wanna see me, and all. lookin' like this."

the memory of his lips burned like a flame on your skin as you looked up at him. "pretty sure you're supposed to pinch yourself for that," you told him.

something awoke in his eyes. "pinch me, then, beauty," he said, daring you, "'s only fair."

you scrunched up your nose. "only want me to so 'l kiss it better," you mused, knowing the look in his eyes, knowing exactly how that felt.

he hummed, greedy, guilty, let the pause settle like molasses. a moment during which you could have said a million things, but nothing felt quite right. nothing could possibly add to the peace you felt here, right now.

"i know," jeremy said, a self-deprecating sort of tease in his tone that didn't quite fit with the shimmery satisfaction in his eyes. "i know it, 'm so rotten for you."

and maybe you had been about to make some joke about him being rotten, but he had flipped this whole conversation on its head entirely by saying that he was rotten for you. because now this was no longer a joke, now this was just so, so serious.

so serious you cleared your throat, but didn't step away, couldn't bring yourself to. you swung your bag around. "brought you something," you said, tried to hide the shake in your voice as you took the plastic container from your bag, held it up to him. "extra portion of dessert, as promised."

he took it from your hands like it it was made of glass, smiled so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners. "thank you," he said.

there was something almost violent about his kindness.

"anyways," you said, moving right along, for fear that you'd forget what you came for if you looked in his eyes any longer. "was wondering if, i don't know, maybe, you, uh, wanted to-"

as you rambled and stuttered, which was like speaking a foreign language, to you, which made you feel like the tongue in your mouth was not your own, his grin grew, and grew, until you had to shake your head at your ridiculousness. "yes, please," he said, putting you out of your misery.

you rolled your eyes, your face hot. "if you'd only let me finish, i was almost there," you said.

"'course, beauty," he said with a nod, a gesture for you to continue, "didn't mean to interrupt."

you took a breath. "was wondering if you wanted to get ice cream with me, tomorrow?" you managed, the words rushed. "like a date?"

you'd ask him a thousand times, if he kept looking at you like his, as long as he'd take you in his arms, as he was doing now, as long as he'd hide your burning face in his chest and hold you like to let you go would hurt. "yes, please," he repeated into your hair. "did so well, beauty," he said, softer, a murmur. you hadn't known how much you needed someone to tell you that until he mumbled it into your temple, the affirmation sitting atop your head like a crown dipped in gold.

you made it back to the house that day with a package of crab and plans for tomorrow. you immediately texted tj, needing to tell someone, anyone, so much so that you would have told stan, if he'd been around, even though you knew how he would grimace, said something about you not making any sense.

free tomorrow morning? you texted her.

coffee place at eight was her prompt reply.

that was where you sat, now, across the table from your friend, filling her in on what you'd done, what you were doing later today.

she let out a low whistle when you finished, a little out of breath.

"ice cream date, eh?" she said, finally, raising a brow. "what, will you get his snap after?" she crossed her fingers and shook them at you, teasing.

you rolled your eyes and waved her off, but something about her words resonated with you. because it did seem juvenile, it did seem childish and weird.

but you'd never done the juvenile and childish. you'd skipped that part, right to the thoughtful flirting and manipulative mannerisms that you now associated with adulthood. was it so bad that you wanted some of that time back? was it so bad to want the ice cream dates instead of the motive-driven smiles? the bear-hugs instead of the whole let-me-buy-you-a-drink dance?

was it so bad to want it to just be easy, for once? for you not to have to do all the heavy lifting, just so they thought it had been their idea all along? you were tired of hiding your tracks just so they could feel proud when they discovered what you had led them right to.

you told tj as much, and she gave you a soft sort of smile, much more gentle than her usual expression. "well, in any case, i'm proud of you," she said, before looking down, swirling around her mug. "i could use a little bit of your courage."

you tilted your head. "oh yeah?" you asked, "got someone in mind?" of course, you had quite the strong intuition, but you knew it had to come from her.

tj just shrugged. "'m not really looking for anything, right now," she said, non-committal.

"not even from a certain sunshine?" you said, giving her a look, to which she rolled her eyes.

"jesus, not you, too," she said, which had you asking what she meant. "our families have been trying to get us together since we were practically babies," she elaborated, "our moms are best friends."

this new information rolled in your head like creamed butter in a stand mixer. you waited for her to continue.

"and 'm not the kind of person to do what everyone wants, what everyone expects from me," she said.

"oh, really?" you said, sarcastic, "news to me."

she hit your forearm playfully. "'m serious," she said, "and it was fine, because he was on the same page, too, until pretty recently." she looked down. "now he's making it pretty hard to maintain my stone-cold reputation." she said this like a joke, but there was an air of truth to it, too.

you took her hand and squeezed it, because if anyone knew what that felt like, it was you. if anyone knew what it felt like to feel that pull, that pull towards something, someone, who was just so unlike the person you had built yourself up to be, it was you. and you told her us much.

"to the death of the heartbreaker and the ice queen," you said, raising your mug to hers, teasing, but not really, "and the birth of the softie and the lover girl."

she laughed, clinked her mug against yours. "maybe not the death," she amended, "maybe the birth of the softie with a flirtatious streak and the lover girl with a mean one."

you'd toast to that, any day.

later, after you'd prepped for the day's meals, tended to the garden, and planned out tomorrow, you spent a little too much time deciding what to wear for your date, eventually landing on your typical summer uniform of jean cut-offs and a flimsy tank top. you spent a little too much time messing with your hair, a little too much time worrying about how you looked, about everything, but as soon as you saw jeremy that worry all melted away.

you had walked downtown, of course, to the ice cream stand towards the end of the pier, which was attached to the pizza place, and therefore run by the same teenagers. you'd made sure to be on time, but it appeared that jeremy had gotten here early.

he was already standing out front, notably not looking at his phone, just looking around, like he was taking everything in. it felt like a privilege, to see him before he saw you, to simply observe him for a second.

it seemed unfair that you still weren't used to what he looked like without his fishing gear on. this other version of him, this more intimate, everyday version, in goofy cargo shorts and some old t-shirt, seemed almost scandalous in comparison. you'd become so enamored with him, so attracted to him, and you'd only seen his arms bare once before.

it didn't help that he appeared to be wearing a suit jacket over his t-shirt, despite the heat that made the air wilt and waver. his hair curled over the tops of his ears, his face flushed with excitement that multiplied exponentially when he spotted you, now just a couple of steps away from him.

his eyes lit up, his body seemed to hum, like a kid waiting in line for a roller-coaster, finally up next. of course, the first thing he did was wrap you up in a hug. of course, the first thing you did was melt into it.

"beauty!" he exclaimed, "you're here!"

you couldn't help the delighted laugh that he pulled from you as you squeezed him tighter before looking up at him. you smiled, and it wasn't the practice-perfect one, the one that worked on everyone. it was a genuine one, the slightly lopsided one, the toothy one that lit you up from the inside out. "'course i did," you said, before your voice took on a teasing tone. you tugged on his lapel. "you dress up for me, jeremy?"

he blushed, slightly, and you wanted to feel the pink under your lips. for now, you settled with tracing your fingertips across his cheeks and nose, a touch he leaned into, ever so slightly. "you said it was a date," he said, simply, like that explained everything. maybe it did. maybe it explained him.

"you look so handsome," you told him, only because you wanted to, only because it was true. and it was worth it, to watch his eyes well up with bashfulness, to see the way his gaze grew boyishly pleased.

"can't think much 'bout how you look," he said, and it came out soft, almost strained, "know how distracted i get."

with that, with both of you making the other flush, he made to hold the door open for you, followed close behind you as you stood in line, surveying the different flavors.

"what's the chef's favorite flavor?" came his voice from behind you, making you scrunch your mouth up in thought.

"the chef loves a good strawberry," you mused, "what about the fisherman?"

he thought for a moment, appeared to be taking this very seriously. "the fisherman gets something different every time," he told you, and this made a lot of sense. that he wouldn't confine himself to a singular order. "and today, i think it's gonna have to be cotton candy."

"cotton candy?" you asked, surprised, amused.

"oh, yeah," he said, didn't stray from his decision, though, as you stepped up to the counter to order. "lukey knows what 'm talkin' about."

he held out his fist for luke to bump with his own, the teenager sighing, like he was used to this. "hey, jeremy," luke said.

jeremy waved him off. "i thought i said you could call me j-money," he said.

"you did say that," luke deadpanned, picking up a scoop. "i just didn't agree to it."

"what's up, j-money?" jenna, the other worker called, approaching now with a wide grin. "what can we get for you?"

jeremy gave her a fist bump, too. "that's more like it, jenner," he said. "and we're gonna do two scoops of strawberry and two scoops of cotton candy, please and thank you." he turned to you, looked at you like he was trying to read your face. "cup and whipped cream for the berry, cone and sprinkles for the candy."

it wasn't what you'd normally get, but you'd never let him know that. "how'd you know?" you asked, stepping to the side so that the line could move along.

he came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your torso, clasped them in front of you, urging you to lean back into his warm chest. you turned your head to the side, peered up at him. "'m physic about these kinds of things," he said, low, like a secret.

"must be," you mused, a quirk of a smile on your lips.

you both got your ice creams, jeremy insisting on paying, also leaving a tip for luke and jenna, urging the closest thing to a smile you'd seen from luke.

you walked together in stride down to the pier, eventually sitting down on the dock, during which he asked about the menu for this week (cherries, corn, and tomatoes were in right now, so those were your focus), how stan was warming up to you (pretty well, if you did say so yourself), how on earth you had gotten tj to be nice to you (you explained that her nice looked different than other people).

in turn, you asked about how the market was doing (well, especially now that scallops and rockfish had begun to make an appearance), what was new with camp (he'd finally gotten luke's younger sister to hold a rod correctly), what trent was up to tonight (his family liked to do board game nights every week).

as the sun began to sink deeper into the sky, and as your ice cream began to melt into a soupy pink at the bottom of your cup, the conversation naturally became a little more substantial, too. you were surprised at how easily you welcomed that from him, surprised how easily you answered questions about how you got into culinary arts (there was something about food that brought people together in a way nothing else did), what your favorite part of being a private chef was (learning new people and places so closely), what your least favorite part was (you'd always wondered what it'd be like to cook for a larger, more diverse audience).

and you asked him about how he had grown so close to the frederics (trent had been his best friend since he was in preschool), what he loved so much about this place (he knew everyone, loved everyone like they were family), what was so special about fishing (there was nothing quite like feeling as if something as powerful as the sea was on your side).

eventually, the sky was saturated with that blood orange haze, the heat had subsided into something much more drowsy, more pleasant, the kind of air that had your gaze lingering on his mouth as he spoke, as he laughed.

the kind of air that had his knee against yours feeling like something much more serious.

you both took last bites of your ice creams, hands sticky and heads clouded with sweetness. you set your cup down, looked up at him again, found the corner of his mouth blue and pink with residue.

"you have, uh, something, right here," you said, motioning on your own mouth where.

he wasn't embarrassed at all, of course he wasn't, as he made to wipe at the wrong side of his mouth. "did i get it?" he asked, his gaze growing heated, hooded.

you gave a slight shake of your head, bit your lip slightly. how shameless could you be, here? how rotten?

time seemed to slow, to liquify as you reached out a delicate hand, gently swiped at his lips until your fingers felt sticky.

pretty shameless, you decided, especially rotten.

you brought your fingers to your own mouth, sucked the sweetness off of them in a moment, watched the way his eyes practically glazed over, the air vibrating between the two of you.

there was no one else on the dock, the sun was almost done setting, its slow descent all but finished. even if there had been other people there, though, you doubt you would have felt their presence, doubt it would have mattered.

there was very little that seemed to matter, now, as you let him tug you onto his lap, facing him. very little that seemed to matter as your eyes searched his, very little that seemed to matter besides the feeling of him, under you, besides his exhales and yours.

"please," he breathed, entranced, like in a dream, and of course you pulled him to you by the lapel of his ridiculous suit jacket, of course your lips met his in a kiss that felt like waltzing through a rainstorm, like equal parts innocent and sinful, like something cinematic, something spectacular.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, urging the softest of noises from his throat, something like a sigh of relief, something like a whimper as one of his hands found the side of your face, the other pressing against the plane of your back, pushing you closer against his chest.

he tasted like sugar and something waxy, from the sprinkles, making you smile against his mouth, almost laugh. you much preferred this to the kisses of gatorade and vodka, of rum and coke from summers past. this was something beautiful, something so entirely him, and you, and no one else.

his mouth slanted across yours like a smirk, easy as a laugh, and when you pulled away, rested your forehead against his, both of your chests were heaving, mirroring swollen lips and flushed cheeks and heated gazes. his thumb drew barely-there hearts into your jawline.

he looked practically blissed out, from only a kiss, the rambler at a complete loss for words. you smiled. oh, to make the sweet-talker speechless.

he gave your cheekbone the lightest pinch, a thousand words you understood in the action, and then it was your turn to be speechless.

there was something monumental in this quiet, the lull of the ocean harmonizing with your exhaling breaths.

this harmony echoed in your head the whole night, into the next morning, when you got a text from jeremy asking if you were free that afternoon.

freddy wants to take the boat out on the lake, he texted, followed by please come, followed by can't stop thinking about you.

so, of course, because you were very much past being able to say no to him, and because you had finished your work for the day by three, you found yourself on the smaller dock on the lake, dressed for the heat, a swimsuit under your shorts and tank, your bag slung over your shoulder.

tj stood next to you, mumbling something about how you had conveniently left out whose boat this was, to which you mumbled something back about how she probably should have guessed it.

"sunshine?" that odd voice called out once the two of you approached. "didn't know you were comin' out."

"finally got somethin' i can use, eh?" tj said, that sharp tongue quicker than ever.

"should'a warned me," trent shot right back, "would'a worn my five inchers." tj rolled her eyes as jeremy hopped down onto the dock, immediately enveloping you in one of his hugs that you had come to crave.

"hey," you said into his chest, rubbed careful circles into his back.

he pulled back slightly, planted messy kisses on your cheeks and nose until you were giggling. "missed you," he said against your jaw.

"missed you, too," you told him, because it was the truth.

the memory of last night sat between the two of you like a weighted mist, like a velvety curtain, making your stomach flip, making his embrace feel hot. the heat was cut by a familiar voice.

"no wandering hands, frederic," tj said to trent with a warning finger as he made to help her into the boat, placing his hands on her waist.

he rolled his eyes. "relax, sunshine," he said, lifting her smoothly and placing her down, slapping the side of her thigh playfully. "these hands don't wander." his eyes grew teasing. "they know exactly where they're going."

tj scoffed and made to set her things down on the bench at the front of the boat as jeremy crouched down in front of you.

"hop on," he said, grunting slightly as you wrapped your arms around him. he held onto your legs, pushing up as you laid your cheek against the back of his neck. you hadn't had a piggyback ride in ages, and it was just as fun as you remembered.

jeremy stepped up onto the small deck area, walking you up to the front, shifting you and setting you down gracefully on the bench, next to tj.

"thank you," you said, giving him a smile as you put your bag down.

he winked at you. "anytime, beauty."

the lake was stunning this afternoon, like the inside of a snow-globe, without the fake powdery snow.

it was an afternoon distinct in its easiness.

easy, how you and tj chatted about where you'd gotten your swimsuits, you launching into a story that involved a surf shop in nantucket.

easy, when jeremy asked you to help him with his sunscreen. how you gently rubbed the white lotion onto his forehead, his cheeks, how he laughed when you scrunched up your face at the smell, how you squealed when he nipped at your fingers.

easy, how, when the sun began its drowsy dip, the temperature stirring slightly, trent dropped his zip-up hoodie on tj's shoulders and told her to "knock it off and put it on, teej," before she could argue.

easy, how trent insisted that the food you'd brought for them was the best he'd had, even though it was just sandwiches and fruit. how tj said she knew there was a reason she was friends with you, immediately citing the way you'd cut up melon into perfect cubes. easy, how jeremy's lips on yours tasted like watermelon, that afternoon.

it was a beautiful day, through and through, filled with refreshingly-chilly swims and hours laying out in the tart lemony sunshine, until you felt pleasantly tired, until you felt the weight of the day in your limbs, the evidence of a day laughing in your throat and voice.

at some point, jeremy had pulled you onto his lap by the slinky strings of your swimsuit bottom, shifted you until you sat on one of his firm thighs, your legs crossed over the other as you leaned your side into his bare chest. you'd thrown one arm around his neck, tracing your nails over his shoulder, his collarbone.

this, sitting with him like this, like neither of you were really quite sure where one of you ended and the other began, this was easy as breathing. you had nothing to prove to each other, and you felt that lightness like a breeze.

the two of you watched tj and trent bicker with knowing smiles. you commented on what songs were playing from tj's speaker, your favorite concerts you'd been to. you talked about your plans for tomorrow.

when jeremy felt you shiver, he helped you shoulder on the sweater he'd brought.

"you won't be cold?" you asked, balling up the soft fabric in your fists. he only shook his head, kissed your temple, making your smile come easy.

"i run hot, beauty," he said, shifting you closer.

you hummed, feeling just about ready to fall asleep in his arms. "i know," you told him, pressing your lips to his chest, the underside of his strong jaw, which made his exhale shaky. you smiled. "my own heater," you whispered.

"anything for you," he breathed into your ear.

it was almost too much, this confession of his that seemed to get you, every time, combined with the feeling of him all around you, under you, his bare skin against your palms. almost. just enough.

just enough that when you were back on dry land, when the sun had set, when trent and tj had insisted that they'd pack everything up, jeremy's gaze on your frame felt like fire. enough that his grip on your waist felt heavy, made your stomach twist with want. enough that you told him you'd walk back to his place with him, if only to get a couple more seconds in his presence.

until you stood in front of his door, and the air seeming to bend around you like refracting light. you looked up at him, his eyes leaden with desire.

and it was sort of weird, because what was so different about him was how he made you feel younger, more innocent, less of the heartbreaker and more of the easy-to-smile sap.

was it odd that there was something sort of innocent in the purity of the want you felt, then? that there was something almost angelic about just how deeply you wanted him, how it was so undiluted by any other motive. you wanted him because of him, and because of you, and because of everything that had led you to this moment.

did you imagine the halo of light around his head as his gaze caught on your mouth, like a snag on a record player?

"d'you wanna come in?" he murmured.

did you imagine the way that halo melted into something like mischievous horns when you nodded, let him reach around you to unlock the door, lead you inside?

and you'd pause, for a moment, think about how this was technically the first time you'd been in his place, about how much it meant that he had offered this piece of himself to you, about how you wanted him to see your apartment back home, some time.

but that pause would stretch like putty, like something you could hold, when his voice would come out rough, choked, when he would ask, "do you want a tour?"

and you'd tilt your head, like you knew something he didn't, as he'd switch on the hallway light. you'd lean back against the wall, wait for him to settle, right in front of you, a breath apart. "no," you'd say, softly. "later, maybe."

his gaze would grow thicker, and he'd lay a light hand on your hip, boxing you against the wall with his frame. "what do you want, beauty?" you'd reach up, lay an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you. "tell me."

"let me show you, hm?" you'd breathe, and he'd give a desperate sort of nod that'd have you clashing together in a kiss of teeth and flame and fairy-floss sweetness.

now, you whimpered into his mouth as his grip on you grew more forceful, more intentional. he pulled you flush against him, wide hands clutching at your thigh, rooting in your hair.

you hooked a leg around his hip, to which he moaned, his mouth falling open wider, neck falling back, allowing you better access. you left open-mouth kisses down his jaw, his neck, his slight stubble rough under your lips, your teeth, your tongue, as you nipped and sucked, relishing in the noises you drew from him, whimper-ish moans cut with breathy pants.

he was already impossibly hard across your front, you could feel how affected he was by this, by you. it made you smile. it made you pull away, barely, for a second. you brushed his eyelids with your fingertips, willed them to flutter open.

"lost you, there," you said, your voice rough. you were acutely aware of the slow, almost undetectable grind of his hips against you, even though it seemed as if he was doing it subconsciously.

he gave a short shake of his head. "not lost," he rasped, holding the side of your face in his palm. "'m here, beauty, swear it." and maybe lost wasn't the right word, maybe it was something close to blissed out, maybe even fucked out, even from just a kiss, a couple marks on his neck.

"good," you said, and you certainly didn't miss the way his eyes darkened. "then will you let me-"

"yes," he said, before you could finish, which tugged a laugh from your lips, somehow more significant, more telling than any moan could be. he took you by the hand and pulled you to his bedroom.

"didn't let me finish, rotten boy," you teased, to which something like sorrow flashed in his eyes.

"'m sorry, beauty," he said, shutting the door behind him, pulling you onto his lap as he sat on the foot of his bed, and it was something sort of innocent, to be having this same conversation, again. "please, please, tell me what you need."

you massaged the muscles in his shoulders gently with your palms as you shifted on his lap. "need you in my mouth, jeremy," you said, the words heavy in their honesty, weighted when spoken through swollen lips. "let me make out with your cock, yeah?" and there was that glassy look again, simultaneously like he was somewhere far away and in the palm of your hand. you sunk to your knees in front of him, peered up at him through your lashes. "please?"

"fuck," he bit out, tugged and twisted his clothes aside. "yeah, beauty. yeah, you can."

you smiled as you took him in your hands, spit onto his cock, pumped your gentle grip up and down, watched the way his head fell back, the way his thighs clenched when you dug your nails into one to ground you.

that slick, lewd sound echoed in your head, making you aware of how wet you were, how potent the desire inside you had become.

you ran your tongue up the length of him, could have laughed at how his choked exhale gave you butterflies, instead took all of him in your mouth, held your head down until you felt resistance, hollowed out your cheeks.

when was the last time you had done this with a fire in your stomach? the last time you'd wanted, more than anything, to make it so, so good for someone?

you'd known you were good at this, for so long, that you couldn't remember the last time you'd sucked someone off like you had something to prove.

that's what it felt like, now, with the hard, hot weight of him on your tongue. i'd work for you, you seemed to be screaming, i'd let you work for me.

his rooted grip on your scalp was firm, warm. "fuck, beauty, like that," he groaned, the other hand coming to rest on top of yours, on his thigh. like a reminder than he was truly present, that the act of you, like this, wasn't lost on him. like he understood. like he was grateful.

you tilted your head to the side, forced him deeper, the tip running along the inside of your cheek. his neck rolled at the sensation, making you pick your head up off of him, continue to run your hands over his cock, wet with your spit, look up at his flushed face. "like this, baby?" you asked, your movements painfully slow. "bein' so good for me, hm?"

he was nodding, and when he spoke, it was a whine. "please, beauty, can i see you?" he asked, "wanna see all of you, need it."

you were long past being able to deny him something he needed so deliriously, so you let him pull your shirt over your heart, tug your shorts aside, paw at the strings of your swimsuit until there was nothing obstructing his view of you.

you pulled at the edge of his shirt, helped him out of it, and sighed at the sight, at the already darkening bruises on his neck, the solidity of his stomach and chest.

his gaze had grown awestruck, and you found yourself embarrassed, sort of, maybe just restless, at the heaviness of his eyes on you, coating you like a red candy apple.

"get my good side," you managed, throat rough, voice rougher, a smile on your face at the nostalgia of the moment, how you'd been here before.

he laughed, then, a genuine one, pulled you to his chest and kissed you, so gentle and soft your heart sprouted angel wings. "never seen anything so pretty," he mumbled against your lips, urging a flush you felt up your neck.

you grinned, not the one that worked on everyone. the one that worked because it was for him. "please, can i have-"

"yes," he said, and it sent both of you into breathy laughs, because how many times would he say yes to you before knowing what you were asking? then he flipped you onto your back, though, the cottony fabric soft under you. "yeah, beauty, you can have me inside you."

you wanted to ask him how he'd known, but then he dragged his fingers through your folds, found you practically dripping, caught his thumb on your clit, making you jolt. "please," you moaned, "dyin' for it, baby, 'm soaked for you."

"don't need to beg me, beauty," he said, running the head of his cock along your center, making you whimper. his grin grew wicked. "sound so pretty when you do, though."

your reply would have been witty, you were sure of it, but it was mangled, torn from your throat in a strangled sound when he pushed inside of you, finally, slowly, making you clutch at his shoulder for something to hold onto.

the stretch grew as he pushed further into you, until you felt him in your bloodstream, in the back of your head like a memory, in your palms.

"fuck," you bit out, "fuck, just there, hm? stretch me out, baby, want it so bad."

he finally bottomed out, fluttered his molten eyes open again. you watched them soften when they regained focus on you, witnessed yourself become his beacon, calling him home from dreamland.

he pulled back slowly, pushed forward again, began a slow rhythm that had your head spinning, had your vision clouding over, sun showers exploding behind your eyes at the impossible stretch.

time oozed like strawberry jam, thick, you almost expected the clock on the wall to stop ticking entirely, for its face to stare back at you, frozen.

"how's that, beauty?" he rasped, at some point, when his pace had progressed into something more mind-numbing, when your thighs began to feel the start of the coming-soreness, when his stomach and shoulders started to contract and tense in the most delicious way. "that good?"

you nodded, choked on a whimper when he moved his hand to your lower stomach, stretched his thumb to swipe methodically at your clit. "that's, fuck," you tried, exhaling shakily, "fuck, that's so good, baby, you're so good."

you clenched around him, making him stutter, his hips jerking. "won't last like this," he warned, "can't, beauty, feel too perfect. too, fuck, too perfect for me."

he pressed you down harder until you could feel the outline of the mattress against your shoulder blades. "'m close, too," you breathed. "just need, just-"

your words were lost as he dragged the heel of his hand along your clit and back, the friction so stunning that your fingers twitched. "please cum, beauty," he pleaded, like he needed it, like he'd die for it. "cum on my cock, yeah?" you practically writhed around him. "fuck, give me it, hm?"

your high came abruptly and brutally, so sharp and consuming you barely registered his own orgasm, the warmth and sensation of it, the way he dipped his head down to bite gently on your chest, just sharp enough to leave a mark. you only really noticed the way the heavy weight of his body collapsed onto yours, pinning you between his damp chest and the bed.

breaths came slowly and drowsily, as you regained a sense of the room, of time, of space, as he rolled over slightly, just to give you more air, laid a massive arm on the outside of your thigh, pulled you half on top of him.

he looked so beautiful, then, a glossy adoring gaze paired with swollen lips, traces of your mouth all over him. you had a feeling you looked in a similar way, fussed hair and watery eyes.

you could have stayed there for hours, the measure seemed irrelevant, as he palmed, kneaded your thigh softly, as you twisted his messy curls around a finger.

at some point, he brought his free hand up, pinched at his own cheek.

you smiled at the cyclical sense of it all. "you're not dreaming," you rasped.

"oh, i know," he said, a smug, lazy grin peeking through his lips before he turned his cheek to you, expectantly. "i still think you should kiss it better, though."

butterflies stirred in your stomach as you gave a playful roll of your eyes, leaned your head forward to press your lips to his cheek.

"rotten," you breathed.

"for you," he clarified.

dreamland had nothing on here. on this.

you know, i hear she used to be a real heartbreaker, the big hand on the clock whispered, low and secretive.

really? the little hand said, shocked, her? there was a pause. what happened?

the big hand shrugged. don't know, it said. shame.

a real shame.

fin.

[barzysunflower]

could you please do D28 and D43 for jeremy swayman where you’re riding him and he’s vocal about liking how you scratch him up 🥵🤤

god I love sway so so so so much and need with such passion! thank you for the request and keep it coming

wc: 1k

cw: dirty talk, piv, somewhat rough sex; SMUT 18+

just keep this in mind while you read this 🤤🤤

28. “I want you to leave marks.” & 43. “Don’t be gentle.”

gif by @snoopyfl

welcome home, baby

“Fuck, Jer,” you moaned loudly when you sank down on his hard cock. He groaned just as loudly, finally feeling your soaking wet pussy squeeze around him after days of being gone.

“So good, so wet for me,” Jeremy whispered and latched his lips onto your neck when your head fell back with another moan when he was buried to the hilt. His lips sucked and kissed your skin, bringing you more pleasure as you got used to his cock stretching you. His teeth scraped your neck, eventually biting you ever so softly, but enough to make you yelp and thrust your hips.

Jeremy chuckled lightly and kissed his way back up to your lips. His hands gripped your hips more tightly, urging you to start moving – and you did. Slowly at first, easing him deeper into you. “Fuck,” you moaned, as your nails scratched along his shoulders for stability. Your eyes rolled back as the tip of his cock pressed further than you thought possible. “You’re so deep.”

"Yeah," he panted in agreement, "You’re little pussy is taking me so well."

You started grinding into him faster, lifting your hips slightly, loving the feeling of him slipping back into you so deeply. Jeremy’s hand lifted from your hip and cradled the side of your head when you dropped your forehead against his. “Jer.” His name was just a whisper which he swallowed with a passionate kiss as you kept grinding against him. His thumb swiped your lips aggressively before pushing through them into your mouth. With an appreciative groan, your lips closed around it and sucked, just like you had been sucking on his cock just a few minutes ago.

“Good girl.” His gentleness suddenly vanished with hard slap against your ass. Jeremy moved from the sitting position, keeping you on top of him, so that his back lay flat against the couch cushions. His hands tightly back on your hips helped your movements, up and down, rocking back and forth on his cock, quicker and quicker.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you chanted, "it's s-so good, Jer, it feels so good—"

He bit his lip as he watched you, and you loved how it felt to have those hazel eyes looking up and down your body as you moved. Your hands supported themself on his chest and with every thrust your nails scratched further and deeper into his skin. But when you realized how much you were actually hurting him, you switched to holing onto the couches arm rest. “Don’t.” Jeremy brought your hands back to his chest. “I want you to leave marks.”

So your freshly manicured nails, which Jeremy had paid for, kept digging into his skin, leaving marks. Jeremy bent his knees and without any warning started thrusting into you relentlessly. His hands roamed your body, with one hand ending up in your hair, holding on to a bunch while he kept up his hard thrust into you. You shuddered all over as the curve of his cock rubbed against your sensitive spot aggressively and you broke down against him with a sob.

“Yes! More. Don’t be gentle.” You arched your back and his your face in the crock of his neck, letting the pleasure wash over you as you crept closer to your orgasm.

“So fucking tight,” Jeremy groaned, grunting more filthy words into your ear. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl for me, baby.”

His strong arm swung around your hips holding them in place as his thrusts somehow became faster. Moving faster, you felt the pressure building inside you, pulsing and swelling. But after a few more ruthless thrusts, he stopped and pulled your head up by your hair to meet his lips for a kiss. It was a hungry, dominating kiss, one that made you whine as he tasted all over your tongue and mouth. So close to your orgasm, you started desperately grinding your hips again and you kissed and kissed.

Eventually his hand moved out of your hair and you felt it gently curl around your neck. He didn't let go of your neck, as you kept kissing, but eventually he tightened his grip just enough to make you choke out a raspy moan against his lips, which you felt smirk a moment later.

He pushed you upright, never stopping your rocking movements, and watched as you let out small moans with his hand around your neck and his cock deep inside your pussy. He could feel you clench around him, getting tighter, so he nodded. “Yeah, show me how you make yourself come.”

You really didn’t need much more, but still you started bouncing faster and finally rubbed your clit. Just for him to watch as you chased your high, which hit you in intense waves that seemed never ending.

“You’re so good for me,” he grunted, as his hips started speeding up again, now chasing his own orgasm. Whimpering as he fucked your through your orgasm and straight into another one, you felt your walls bearing down on him as it nearly hit you — the way it was drawn out just made you sure it would build up even stronger and hit you harder.

“I’m gonna come again,” you let out in a small whimper.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Come on my cock,” he grunted, pulling you back into him and therefore slamming into you harder. “I’m so close, too.”

“I want you to come in me.” It turned him on just as much as it did you, so you repeated yourself when his grunts got more desperate and his thrusts more sloppy. “Come in me, Jer. I need it. Need to be so fucking full.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he finally reached his high at the same time your second orgasm came crushing in. Your nails dug back into his skin, so deeply, as you felt his cock pulse inside you, heat flooding between your legs and his head falling back onto the couch with the most gorgeous fucked-out look on his face.

"God— oh my god—" Jeremy panted out, still in the post orgasm haze, starting to catch his breath. With your last remaining energy, you lifted yourself just enough to kiss him gently.

“Welcome home, baby.”

[ilyasorokinn]

what's in a name , jeremy swayman

note, i love them, i do. and i'm not even a boston fan. anyways, this fic is part of the "swinging with the swaymans" series. check out this masterlist for more. pair, jeremy swayman x reader summary, y/n surprises jeremy at practice with baby eli, where they then surprise linus (and the team) with eli's full name. warnings, babies word count, 1159 words

(gif not mine)

“Bye Bye,” Jeremy spoke in a baby voice as he said his goodbyes to Elijah. You watched, waiting to take your son from him when he was done. It was Jeremy’s first day back at practice, which, since Elijah was born, would be the longest they had been apart.

“We’ll be okay, won’t we, Eli?” You shook his little hand softly, “Tell Daddy we’ll be okay.” you smiled up at Jeremy, who looked nervous. Elijah babbled his baby talk, whining when he was moved from his dad’s arms and into yours, but quickly settled down.

"I’ll miss you both.” He frowned, leaning in and pecking your lips.

“I’ll miss you, too. And so will Eli, even if he doesn’t know it.” You smiled, leaning up and pecking him back.

“I love you both,”

“We love you, too, Jer.” You sighed, waving Elijah’s little hand as Jeremy picked up his bags. he slung the duffle bag over his shoulder then pressed one more quick kiss to each of your heads before he stared longingly at you and waved.

“Go.” You laughed, pushing him out the door carefully. Once he was gone, you set your plan in motion. You packed your bags and got Elijah situated in the car. You were thankful that he had distracted himself and wasn't screaming his head off.

You transferred him from the car seat to the baby carrier, making sure he was comfortable and warm, making funny faces at him and smiling when he giggled at them.

You greeted the security guards, who peeked into the baby carrier, making his own funny face, and smiled when Eli giggled at him. You decided to take the long way to show Eli around, even though he wouldn't remember or understand anything you were showing him.

You finally made it to the rink and couldn't but smile when you heard all the guys laughing and skating around. You carefully got Eli out of the carrier and pointed out all the guys to him.

Eli's eyes were wide as he took everything in. From the glass to the ice to the skates to the guys, "There's daddy." You pointed across the ice over to the other side of the rink where Jeremy was in front of the net.

Eli followed your hand but no look of recognition crossed his face, which made sense. Eli's attention was quickly taken when Charlie Coyle stopped in front of you and was waving to him. You could tell he was basking in the attention he was getting from the guys because of how big the smile on his face was.

Practice had seemingly halted as all the guys had skated over to say hi, which confused Jeremy. He couldn't tell what was going on from the other end of the ice, so he skated over.

Once he got closer, he finally saw who had distracted everyone. He took off his mask as he skated closer. Once Eli saw his dad, a look of recognition finally crossed his face and he smiled. A path was formed and Jeremy skated through, a smile on his face too.

"Hi, buddy." He beamed, waving and making funny faces at Eli, which sent him into a fit of giggles and laughs which, in turn, made Jeremy smile even bigger.

Eventually, an assistant coach came over and broke up the scene. You watched Jeremy skate backward, a pout on his face as you laughed and waved Eli's hand at him again. You pointed over to the general area where you would be sitting to watch practice and that seemed to brighten his mood.

You stayed for the rest of warmups, which was only about 20 minutes, but Eli fell asleep halfway through and was out. You sat in the bleachers, even after practice was over, waiting for Jeremy to come out.

While you waited, you talked to the security guard who was always by the glass during warmups. He entertained Eli with some funny faces, joked around with you, and showed you pictures of his grandbaby who had been born just a few months before.

Eventually, after about half an hour, Jeremy came out, which you were expecting. What you didn't expect was almost half the team to come out with him. Practically the entire team had come out of the locker room to see Eli.

"They wanted to meet him." He shrugged, setting his bags down and taking the baby from you. You smiled, accepting the hug from a few of the guys. You watched as all the guys fawned over Eli. Your heart warmed at the smile on Jeremy's face as he held Eli and showed him around the circle of guys.

"So, tell us, what's his name?" You broke through into the circle, stood by Jeremy, and smiled.

"His name is Elijah Linus Swayman," Jeremy stated, a proud smile on his face as he looked over at the other goaltender, who was standing there, frozen, as he took everything in.

The guys patted him on the back and cheered for him. Jeremy handed Eli over to you as Linus pulled him in for a hug. When they pulled away, Linus turned to you and pulled you in for a hug, careful not to disturb Eli too much.

"Do you want to hold him?" You asked. The look on his face melted your heart, and once he was ready, you set Eli in his arms. Linus began cooing over the baby and couldn't stop smiling.

Eli eventually went around the circle and each of the guys got to hold him, cooing and fawning over him. While all the guys were busy fawning over your baby, Linus turned to you and Jeremy with a smile on his face.

"Thank you both for this. I'm truly honored." He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, "This is the sweetest thing."

"Well, would you pass out if we asked you to be his godfather too?" Jeremy asked, laughing at the shocked look on his face once again.

"Really?" He asked, his voice squeaky.

"Really." You both nodded, laughing when he quickly pulled you both in for a hug. Eventually, the guys started saying goodbye and began filing out to leave.

You turned to Jeremy when it was just you and him, "This was a nice surprise." Jeremy smiled, setting Eli down in the carrier and wrapping you in a hug, "I wasn't expecting to see you two until after practice."

"Wanted to surprise you." You hummed, looking up at him, "I'm ready to go home." He smiled, kissing your head.

"Let's go home. We'll take your car and I'll catch a ride tomorrow."

"Yeah?" You raised a brow at him, throwing the diaper bag strap over your shoulder while Jeremy did the same with his own bag.

"Yeah. You can sleep on the ride home." He threw an arm around your shoulders while the other pushed the stroller.

-

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[stars1997]

I like it

Paring(s): Jeremy Swayman x Fem! Reader Warnings: Fluff!! Smut!! oral (F receiving), fingering, munch Swayman, swearing, nicknames (Good girl, baby, babe), porn with very little plot. (not edited) Summary: Jeremy and you finally have a day of doing nothing. He thinks that it’s a good idea to trim his nice bushy mustache, but you think otherwise.

word count: 932

_________________________________________________

Jeremy was in the shower while you were making breakfast. You're placing the plates on the table you hear him calling you from the bathroom. “Babe,” he yelled out to you.

Placing the plates down on the table, heading to your room to get to the bathroom. When you enter the bathroom, he’s standing looking at himself in the mirror. The towel wrapped around him hanging low on his waist.

“What’s up baby,” you say, confused and a little scared because you don’t know what’s about to happen. He turns to look at you, his finger pointing at his mustache.

“I think I’m going to trim down my mustache,” he says, reaching over to grab the razor of the bathroom counter.

You don’t remember your thought processes, but Your hands move faster than your brain, knocking the razor out of his hand.

“No!” is all you're able to get out. Shock covers his face for a second before his mouth moves into a smile. “Why not,” he asks, amusement very evident on his face.

“I like it,” you whisper out, not looking him in his eyes. He takes a step closer to you. He moves his hand to grab your chin, making you look up at him.

His hair was still wet, water dripping off the ends and falling onto his shoulder then rolling down his chest. “What was that?” your face blushed at his question.

“I said that I like your mustache,” you answer louder, your cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

“Oh, do you now,” he asked in a teasing tone. You nod your head. He leans down giving you a little peck on the lips, turning you around, and tapping you on the butt as a way of telling you to go sit on the bed.

You leave the bathroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. He follows right behind you. He stands right in front of you, your legs on either side of his.

He leans down to kiss you again but this time for longer. Your hands interlock behind his neck pulling him down a little more. He lets out a little laugh at your actions.

“What is it about my mustache that you like,” he asks as he pulls away from you, looking you in your eyes and moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I like the feeling of it against me. when you go down on me,” you tell him, making your cheeks blush again.

He slowly gets down onto his knees. Sliding his hands up your thighs. Making the t-shirt that your wearing bunch up around your waist. You had your underwear on under the shirt.

“Lean back for me baby,” he says, hooking his arms around your legs pulling you so half your ass is hanging off the bed.

The second he has you like this he dives right in. immediately his mustache rubs against your skin as he attacks your clit. A moan leaves your mouth.

He keeps sucking and licking making your hands fly to his hair. Jeremy has always been a huge fan of you pulling on his hair. Although he won’t admit it. Your fingers scratching at his head and pulling his hair, he lets out a loud grunt.

The vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure thorough you. He surprises you buy sliding in two fingers.

His mouth and tongue still working on your clit as his fingers quickly find that one spot that makes you scream his name.

“Jer! Please. Fuck your doing so good. Making me feel so good. Don’t stop.” Your voice breathy as you speak. His fingers pick up pace, this makes you start grinding on his face.

The feeling of his mouth on you, the feeling of his facial hair rubbing your skin and his fingers rubbing you sweat spot bring you right to your orgasm.

You let out a moan so loud your pretty sure your neighbors three doors could hear you. “That it. Good girl.” He says, his fingers still working you though your orgasm.

His other hand moved up to rub your clit. “Jer, please it’s too much.” You try moving away from him, but you had no luck.

“you’re going to give me another one. Do you think you could do that for me?” his fingers never stopped moving when he asked. You could already feel your second orgasm building. You nod your head to answer his question, not able to make any sound other than moans.

“I need to hear you, otherwise ill stop.” You were quick to respond. “Yes, please. I can do it. Please don’t stop.” He picks up his speed. Your right on the edge.

“Come on, be a good girl for me. You can do it.” His voice brought you right over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your ears started to ring.

You let out moans that sounded straight out of a porno. Your legs shaking as his fingers slowly working you though your orgasm. “That’s it. Good girl. You did such a good job for me.” He got up to lay down on the bed pulling you up so you’re lying on him.

He kisses your forehead. “How about I go get you a glass of water while you go to that bathroom. Ill also bring the food in here and we can spend the rest of the day in bed.” You nod against his chest. Happy that you have someone who will take care of you the way he does.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Christmas | Jeremy Swayman

wc. 1.2k

Spending Christmas with Jeremy and your family

Your family always got together on Christmas. 

This year, it was at your parents house and your multiple aunts and uncles, your cousins, siblings, grandparents, second cousins, etc. would all be in attendance. Your family treated holidays as if they were a big family reunion and you loved it every single year. 

Your eyes flutter open and are met with the early Christmas morning sunlight streaming in through your bedroom window. You turn in Jeremy’s embrace, eyes falling over his soft features. His hair is tousled, sticking up in every direction, his lips resting in a soft smile, the quiet snores escaping through. You lift a hand up, running your thumb over the crest of his cheekbone and tracing the skin there. You watch as Jeremy’s eyes peak open and upon seeing you, his smile grows wider. 

“G’mornin,” he murmurs, his voice deeper due to not using it. 

“Morning bear,” you greet and he grins at the pet name. 

“What time is your family coming?” he asks, pulling you closer towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and then your lips. 

You roll over, grabbing your phone to see it’s almost 10 o’clock. You turn back and face Jeremy who has now pulled a lock of your hair into his fingers and is combing through it delicately. 

“Any minute,” you tell him and he smiles but you can tell there’s a hint of anxiety behind his expression. 

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him, reaching up to brush your fingers lightly over his chin, forcing him to look at you. 

“I know,” he says, moving to press a kiss to the center of your palm. 

“Ready?” 

You two lounge in bed for a bit longer until you start to hear a commotion downstairs and you can tell that your family members are starting to arrive. You both get out of bed, getting dressed in a comfy but cute style outfit. You’re in the middle of pinning up your hair when Jeremy strides into the bathroom, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing his face into your neck. 

“You look beautiful sugar,” he whispers and his breath against your exposed neck causes a shiver to run down your spine. 

You place your hands on his, leaning back into his embrace and letting your eyes flutter shut. Jeremy presses a long kiss to your neck and begins to move his hands so they’re softly massaging your sides. 

“Keep doing that and we’ll never make it downstairs,” you warn, sleepiness threatening to take over you. 

“They’ll wait,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear and you grin, but ultimately move away from his touch. 

“Come on lover boy.” 

You lean on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips before walking out of the bathroom with Jeremy on your heels. 

The minute you begin to descend the steps, you hear your family members and smile at the rambunctious group crowding your family home. You can’t help the trot you sport heading downstairs excitement running through your veins as you get closer and closer to your cousins. 

“(y/n)!” your cousin Abby bounds towards you, tackling you in a tight hug and you reciprocate, screaming her name back out of habit. 

“You look so cute!” she gushes, pulling back to look at you and you turn in a circle to show off your Christmas outfit. 

“Abs, this is Jeremy,” you step back and take Jeremy’s hand, pulling him towards your best friend and family member. 

“Jeremy, the beautiful, wonderful, psychotic, Abigail,” you joke and Abby nudges your side. 

“Two out of the three of those things are true,” she grins and tugs Jeremy in for a hug before letting go. 

“Who else is here?” you ask when she steps back again. 

“Alex, Lindsay, Brad, Aaron, everyone,” she lists with a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Already?” 

“We’re waiting!!” your mom yells, finally catching onto the fact that you and Jeremy have made your way downstairs. 

You roll your eyes but smile as Abby grabs your hand and drags you into the living room. Jeremy follows nervously, wanting to stay back and prepare himself to meet your whole family but never given the chance as he’s thrown right into the whirlwind. 

Your Aunt is first to attack, rushing over from her seat to greet Jeremy and welcome him to the family. 

“I’m Aunt Judy but you can just call me Judy!!” she greets, pulling Jeremy into a hug and Jeremy casts you a surprised glance that makes you hide a giggle behind your hand. 

“Let me introduce you to everyone! You’re so handsome! (y/n) is so lucky my goodness,” your Aunt rambles as she starts to pull Jeremy around the room and you and Abby are a mess of laughter at the sight before you. 

“(y/n)!” your older brother Thomas calls and you turn and pull him in for a hug. 

“Where’s Ava?” you ask when you pull away and your brother rolls his eyes but smiles and points behind him. 

“Aunt (y/n)!” she screams in excitement.

You bend down as she bounds over to you and when she reaches you you pull her up into your arms and swing her around. 

“Ava baby!! I missed you!!” you squeal, pressing kisses all over her face making her giggle loudly. 

“Ava, do you want to meet someone special?” 

“Santa?” she asks and you throw your head back in laughter. 

“No baby Santa was already here,” you remind her and she pouts for a moment. “This is someone really special to Aunt (y/n).” 

“Who?” she shrieks, whipping around to look at everyone. 

You carry her over to where Jeremy is, standing near the Christmas tree and chatting with your dad. 

“Ava baby,” you say, taking Jeremy’s hand and calling his attention to your niece. 

“This is Uncle Jeremy, my boyfriend,” you explain and Ava grins, hiding her face into your neck for a moment while peeking over at Jeremy with curious eyes. 

“Aunt (y/n)?” Ava tries to whisper but fails. “He’s cute.” 

“He is, isn’t he?” you say, turning to Jeremy who’s face flushed red at all of the attention on him. 

You gesture for Jeremy to follow you, the two of you taking seats on one of the open couches and Ava snuggles up to you on your lap. 

“Uncle Jeremy? How old are you?” Ava asks, feeling bolder now that she’s close to you. 

“I’m 25,” he says, leaning in and smiling widely at the young girl. 

“What do you do for a living?” 

“I play hockey,” he tells her. 

Ava continues to ask Jeremy question after question and he answers them with ease. At some point, Ava has moved off of your lap and into Jeremy’s. He bounces her on his legs, answering questions and playing games, generally keeping the young child entertained. 

You watch the scene with huge heart eyes for your boyfriend. Ava was smitten the second she laid eyes on Jeremy and you can’t say you blame her. Jeremy was your whole world, you couldn’t help but imagine a future where this was your daughter instead, where you and Jeremy are married, where Christmas is hosted at your house instead. 

“You okay?” Jeremy asks, finally noticing your stare. 

“Just love you that’s all,” you murmur and Jeremy leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Love you more.” 

You spend the rest of your Christmas with your family, opening presents, watching movies, and enjoying your time with the people you love the most. 

[hughes86-43]

Thank you so much for feeding the sway girlies🙏🙏 I feel like “I hate to ask this . . . but whenever I’m sick there’s a movie I watch . . . can we watch The Spongebob Movie?” Is something Jeremy swayman would genuinely say

(sway def needs more attention)

“I hate to ask this… but whenever I’m sick there’s a movie I watch… can we watch the SpongeBob Movie?”

-

Jeremy had called you twenty minutes ago on your way home from work saying that he didn’t feel the greatest. You stopped by the pharmacy to grab some medicine and snacks for him, and some snacks for yourself too.

You placed the bags on the counter and walked down the hallway to your shared bedroom to find your sick boyfriend. When you reach the bedroom, you find him shirtless in bed with the covers up to his neck and a washcloth on his forehead, while watching a random cooking show.

“Aw, babe. How are you feeling?” You walk over to him and put your hand up to his cheeks, that are a bit rosy.

“Ehhh,” is all you get as a response, but you take it.

“Okay, give me one second, I’m going to put your washcloth back under the sink to get it cold again.” He just gives you a thumbs up. As you take the washcloth of his head, you give him a small peck on the forehead.

You walk to your conjoined bathroom and run the washcloth back under the water. You turn back to the bedroom, taking off your shoes before walking back to him. You sit next to him on the bed and gently place it back on his forehead and he lets out a sigh when he can feel it cooling him down.

“I stopped by the pharmacy and got you some medicine and some snacks.” You run your hand through his hair. “I’m going to get the medicine ready for you, is there anything that you need right now?”

He nods his head yes at that. “Okay, what do you need, baby?”

He speaks so low that it’s like a whisper, but you manage to hear it. “I hate to ask this… but whenever I’m sick there’s a movie I watch… can we watch the SpongeBob Movie?”

You’re heart melts at how cute he is. You nod your head, “Of course, babe, let me go get your medicine and we will turn it on, okay?”

He gives you a small smile, and replies, “Okay, hurry back.” You get off the side of the bed and place another kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll be right back! Get comfy for me!”

[2-fast-2-curious]

Honestly, I'd really love it if you have like a Jeremy Swayman audio cause he's slowly converting me to a Bruins fan and he is SO SO HOT OMG

I hear from the kids this man is all over hockey tiktok. I will always have a soft spot for goalies.

As a long-suffering Canucks fan I was ready to hate the Bruins too but then I accidentally found myself watching videos of Pasta being hilarious. Best of luck for the Bruins going against the Leafs.

[M4F] Let Me Talk You Through It

[Script Fill] [BFE] [Soft Mdom] A whole lot of [Praise] [Nipple play] Tiny bit of [Begging] [Increasingly Desperate] [Pet Names] [Creampie] [Aftercare]

Creator Reddit: StrawbbyMilku

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello! I saw you're taking requests. Could you please write swayman x Reader with an angsty drabble using prompt

14."It's not what you think it is."?

Thank you!!!

My first Sway request! Thanks Nonny!

Enjoy🤍

He was definitely cheating.

You swiped at a tear and leaned back on your bed.

At first you gaslit yourself into thinking it was your paranoia talking. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d jumped to assumptions and ruined a good thing so you tried to control it. You talked yourself down every time you got suspicious and insisted to your brain you were looking at things the wrong way.

In the past, a complete meltdown and a fight would have been the first thing to happen. But those guys had been different. You wanted to be careful with Jeremy so you kept it to yourself, and for a while it had worked. But your resolve was crumbling and cracking a little bit each day.

The signs were all there.

In the last few months he’d taken a number of phone calls that he left the room for. At first you thought maybe it was just a private conversation. But by now the private conversations had started to happen sometimes twice a day.

Random changing and cancelling of plans. Once or twice wasn’t enough to raise any alarms. Things happened right?

But the final straw was when you were sitting in your favorite dress waiting for him only for him to call and try and move your date to later on, and then deciding to cancel it all together.

And then there was the email you saw. Purely an accident. You might have been paranoid but you weren’t intrusive enough to search through his phone. But when it dinged while he was showering you leaned to look at the screen and saw an email from someone named Sarah you wanted to rip the curtain open and confront him right there.

But what really sent you over the edge was the phone call. This time you’d been snooping but you wish you hadn’t because you investigated so hard you hurt your own feelings. You’d let yourself into his apartment unannounced which had never been a problem, and you had a key for that exact thing and he mustn’t have heard you. You however could hear him on the phone in his room so you quietly made you way and caught the end of a phone call you were probably not supposed to hear.

“She’s gonna be here soon so I can’t talk long.”

You felt your heart slide into your stomach as whoever it was on the other line answered and he responded “No she has no idea, and I wanna keep it that way for now at least. She’ll find out eventually and then we’ll go from there.”

A tear ran down your cheek as he continued “No I can’t do that time. If I cancel plans with her again she’ll start to get suspicious, and then everything will get all messed up. How about Friday? She works in the afternoon so I’ll be free. Sound good? Okay great. See you soon. Bye.” He hung up and tossed down the phone.

Now you’d had enough. With a loud bang you threw open the door so hard it hit the wall and he jumped, whipping around.

“What the f-“

“Free for what?”

He frowned “What?”

“Free. For. WHAT?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You scoffed and pointed at the phone “What are you free for while I work in the afternoon? Some girl? Hmm?”

His went slack jawed and held up his hands “No I-“

“Save it. I KNEW it. I knew you were cheating on me. I’ve known for a long time, so spare me the denial I don’t want to hear it. Just tell me the truth.”

He shook his head and reached for you but you took a step back “It's not what you think it is."

“Oh yeah? Then explain to me what it is. You have 5 seconds.”

He loved to his beside table and opened the door, pulling a blue folder from it and sat down on the bed patting the space next to him “Come here.” He opened it and slid it to you “I’m not cheating on you, I’m doing this.” You looked at him confused as he continued “A vacation. A trip this summer for your birthday.”

You felt so dumb as you looked at the contents of the folder. Plane tickets, passport information, room number and excursion details. A surprise vacation that looked like he’d been working on for a while. You felt terrible.

“Jeremy I-I’m so sorry.”

Be he was smiling “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that way, I just wanted it to be a surprise is all. Guess I’m not very good at keeping secrets huh?”

“I shouldn’t have accused you.” He looked at your lap but he reached under your chin to pull up your head and look you in the eyes “It’s okay really. But next time just talk to me about it okay? I would never cheat on you. Now.” He handed you the booklet with a smile “Pick some things for us to do.”

[iwriteficsandtragedies]

The First Time

A/N I... wrote something????? It's been 84 years etc etc and it's not about a footballer because, tbh, they were so disappointing in 2023 that I have struggled to find any motivation to write my silly little fics about them. So here's a fluffy SHORT little thing about a hockey goaltender because I am nothing if not consistent and a bitch does love a tall lanky goalie.

Athlete: Jeremy Swayman

Warnings: none (I know!)

Being alone in Jeremy’s apartment was peaceful, if a little bit odd. He had waited all of twenty minutes into their third date to have the “we should only see each other” talk, smile on his face as wide as the Bunker Hill bridge. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t timid about asking for it.

Still, it had only been a month. Having a key to his place, being here alone in the middle of the night, just waiting for him to get home from the airport… didn’t feel wrong, just odd. The team flight had been delayed by the snow, but the biggest perk of living downtown was late night access to delivery, and he had good beer in an otherwise empty fridge. 

She heard his key in the door and rose quickly from the sofa to meet him, ruffling her hands through her hair before she rounded the corner into the hall to see him drop his suitcase to the floor and open his arms to her. “You waited.”

“Of course I waited,” she laughed lightly, pressing herself into him, inhaling the scent of him through the layers of airplane air and Boston traffic. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He swayed a bit, squeezed her a little tighter. “Sorry it’s so late.”

“Night shift,” she reminded him. “One in the morning is nothing.” She smiled into his chest before he moved them all the way into the apartment, locks clicking into place before he shed his shoes and coat. In the light of the entryway she could see his dark circles and overgrown scruff. Three weeks on the road had done a number on him. 

“You hungry? There’s leftover Chinese.”

He ate slowly at the kitchen counter, suppressing the occasional yawn in between bites. He always had so much to say to her, and he always wanted to know what she thought about everything, but tonight he was practically silent. When he finished, he slung an arm around her shoulders to pull her to into his side and lay his head atop hers with a heavy exhale.

“Will you stay the night? Just… just to sleep.” He pulled back to look at her, tired eyes hopeful. “I missed you, a lot, but I’m so fucking tired.”

She grinned. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

He did have an extra toothbrush, and plenty of t-shirts for her to sleep in. Nerves had her giddy as she finished getting herself ready for bed in his bathroom; she’d never spent a night with him before, his schedule always requiring early morning alarms and her schedule that of a night shifter with no other responsibilities simply full of overtime and day sleeping. 

She thought he’d already fallen asleep when she gingerly slid herself into bed beside him, but his eyes blinked open and he reached for her with a smile. His hand came to rest on her hip to urge her closer to him before linking his fingers through hers and bringing her hand to his lips. His eyes were closed again, breathing slowed and even. 

“S’nice coming home to you,” he mumbled. She craned her neck to press a sweet kiss to his mouth, but she had lost him to sleep.

[greazyfloz]

Can you do 29 and 13 on the fluff list with Jeremy Swayman?? I love him so much <3

Fluff: 29. “Tell me something about you” & 13. “I think I am falling for you” w/ Jeremy Swayman

Falling For You

As soon as Jeremy got home from practice, he texted me inviting me over. I made my way over as soon as I could, and we found ourselves lying on the couch, watching movies as the rain poured down in Boston.

Jeremy and I were just friends, but it was obvious that we both had a crush on each other. I met him through mutual friends when I first moved to Boston. They thought it would be a good idea if we met each other since we are both relatively new.

“ come over here” he says, as I lay on the couch across from him, I’ll see Pats down on the couch, signalling me to go and cuddle.

I slowly get up and dive into his arms, and he laughs as a titans his grip around me. As we continue to watch the movie, I trace the veins in his arms that are draped over my shoulders as we cuddled.

“tell me something about you“ I randomly say breaking the silence between us. I’m taking his attention away from the movie.

“what do you want to know?” he says behind me and I can feel him smirk, so I look up at him and smile back

“tell me something but you don’t think I know about you” I say, and I watch his eyes soften

“I think I’m falling for you“ he says, and I smile a little wider as he begins to lean in towards me. I mean him halfway bringing my lips to his, as we share a passionate kiss.

“I think I’m falling for you too” I say, and our smiles match each other

“so you wouldn’t mind if I start calling you my girlfriend?” he says somewhat shyly

“of course not, boyfriend”

[comphy-and-cozy]

Hi! I saw that your request are open and I want to know if you could write something with "don’t mind me, just enjoying the view" + "i won’t bite, unless you’re into that sort of thing" for Jeremy Swayman?

hi anon! sure thing, though a disclaimer that I don’t know a single thing about him as I really don’t follow the bruins. hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view” / “I won’t bite, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Pairing: Jeremy Swayman x Reader (f)

Word Count: 567

Warnings: Alcohol use/mention

For all the times you’ve scolded your friends for calling you the ‘mom friend,’ you’ve never lived up to your title more than right now. Normally, it was a positive, or at least respectable trait; now, even you have to admit you’re really taking it to another level.

Somehow, you’d managed to receive an invite to a party of a friend of a friend. You’d met him a few times, briefly, which is why you were surprised to receive a text from your friend saying Charlie had invited you to his party, too.

Charlie also happened to be an NHL player. Casual.

Needless to say, the desire to be cool was high. Which is why part of you is asking yourself how you wound up on your hands and knees in Charlie’s kitchen, scrubbing the floor furiously with a cloth. Very far from cool.

If you didn’t have to calm your nerves with an extra drink — or two — this wouldn’t have happened. The liquid confidence was definitely needed, though, with the very fancy house crawling with tall, good-looking, millionaire athletes. There was one in particular, a dark-haired man who’d cast a smile at you as soon as you locked eyes with him across the room.

Unfortunately, you might have had one too many in your quest for a liquid blanket. One thing led to another and all of a sudden, the new glass of wine you’d stepped into the kitchen to pour ended up splattered across Charlie’s white tiled floors and over the white cabinets.

Fortunately, at least, everyone was outside, so no one had seen your faux pas or your desperate attempt to remove all evidence. You’d be mortified if they had.

So when you hear a throat clear as you’re working on the second cabinet door, it’s no surprise that you freeze, your heart sinking in your chest. Slowly, you turn to the source of the noise, absolute mortification slowly sinking in when you see the handsome brunette from before leaning casually against the counter, a smug expression on his face as he stares blatantly at your ass.

“Don’t mind me. Just enjoying the view,” he says, smirking.

Your cheeks flush, quickly rising, unable to stand being in your compromising position for a moment longer. While you stutter a semblance of an explanation, he laughs.

“It’s all good. Mac won’t even know — or care. I promise.”

His words comfort you, but barely, your face still quite hot over the entire situation, and even more so now that this handsome man is talking to you.

“I’m Jeremy.”

“Y/N.”

“What do you say we abandon the scene, Y/N, and leave the evidence?” Jeremy asks, a cheeky grin forming. You like the way your name sounds from his lips, though you can hear your mother’s voice whispering in your ear not to trust smooth-talking men.

“Are you always this forward?”

“I am when I see something I like.”

It’s a line you know you shouldn’t fall for, dripping in honey and made to make girls swoon, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling shyly. Your mother, after all, doesn’t have to know everything, right?

Jeremy notices your hesitation, saying, “Don't worry, I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

A burst of confidence — surely fueled by Cabernet — runs through you as you smile, reaching to take his hand. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

[bedsyandco]

 ˗ˏˋ BOSTON BRUINS MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ 

── ❨ JS01 ❩

📷 ALASKA

[ilyasorokinn]

can i request anything with dad!sways?

GRANOLA BARS

kids + post game media will always be my weakness

THE "SWINGING WITH THE SWAYMANS" MASTERLIST

tw: children/kids

jeremy was on a high. the bruins won, and although it wasn't a shutout game, the bruins had won by a pretty significant number, and it was all thanks to his good luck charms: you, eli, and winnie.

it was winnie's first game, so it was special game for him. during warmups, he saw you down on the ice, and couldn't contain his smile when he saw winnie's beanie.

it was the first thing jeremy had given to you when you found out you were pregnant with eli, but eli had long since grown out of the hat. it had been in storage so you decided to bring it out and surprise jeremy.

during intermission, he briefly checked his phone and saw the photos you sent him from the bruins social media account. the bruins photographer managed to catch a sweet moment of the four of you. you were sitting in a seat with eli was standing in between your legs and winnie standing on your legs. jeremy standing behind the glass with the biggest smile on his face.

the photo was caught right as winnie had noticed her dad on the other side of the glass. he took off his mask halfway so she knew it was him, but she was a smart girl, so she knew it was him.

eli and winnie both smiled as jeremy tossed pucks over the glass for them, which were caught by a kind man. winnie excitedly slapped her hands on the glass as jeremy smiled at her.

before having kids, he didn't understand what people talked about when they talked about "dad strength", but now, after having kids, he totally understood it. going into the 3rd period, after having seen those pictures, he was on fire. not one goal was let in the entire period.

after the game, all he wanted to do was go home and spend the rest of the night with you and the kids, but because he did so well, post-game media was on the list of things he had to do before he could leave.

“jeremy, going into the 3rd period, what was going through your mind because something changed between the second and third."

jeremy couldn't help but smile, "yeah, i got a text from my fiance. i don't know if you've seen them yet, but it was pictures from warmups. it's my daughter's first game, and we got some pictures taken."

he heard some commotion from the door of the locker room, and looked up just in time to see eli running in. jeremy smiled as eli pushed through the crowd of reporters and stood in front of his dad, waiting to be picked up.

he smiled, bending down and picking eli up. he fixed the hat on eli's head before turning back to the reporters, answering a couple more questions.

"...obviously, a shootout game would've been nice, but..." eli interrupted jeremy by whinging and pointing to the granola bar in his stall, "sorry." he smiled awkwardly, grabbing the granola bar and opening it for eli, "where was i?" he paused for a moment before regaining his train of thought, "... right, yeah..." he continued on with his answer before turning to the next reporter.

mid question, eli reached up and held out a piece of the granola bar, offering it to jeremy, who smiled and took the piece in his mouth. he nodded along as the reporter continued, eating the granola bar eli kept offering him.

he finished press and had eaten half a granola bar by the end of it. with eli's help, he got his stuff packed up and followed eli out to where you were waiting, winnie was asleep in the baby carrier attached to you.

"hi." you smiled brightly when you saw him, setting your phone aside, and giving him your attention, "i tried to stop him, but he's fast and he was on a mission."

jeremy laughed, "he is fast." jeremy looked down the hallway, watching eli running down the hall, talking to himself. he looked back over to you, raising a brow.

"he had a bit of candy." you shrugged, pursing your lips when he cocked his head at you, "we were on highway temper tantrum, exit full meltdown," you explained.

"hmm." jeremy hummed, setting his bags down and snatching eli up when he ran down the hall, "oof, i got you."eli giggled loudly, before letting out a tired yawn, dropping his head onto jeremy's shoulder, "let's go home." he slugn his bag over the other shoulder before grabbing your hand.

requests are open :)

[stars1997]

Lover Boy - Part 1

Warnings: None

Pairing(s): Jeremy Swayman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N Ullmark gets a job with the Bruins as their new photographer. They haven't seen each other in a few years, some things have changed. What happens when her brother's best friend develops a crush on her?

________________________________________________

“Hey guys today’s media day as you know, we gotta get our roster shots. We have a new photographer so do me a favor, be nice to her, she’s ullmarks sister.” I heard Brad Marchand say from inside the locker room. A series of cat-call whistles went off in the locker room before I heard my brother clear his throat. I roll my eyes. Here we go, I think to myself. “Completely off limits to every single one of you. Don’t even think about it.” He says. The whistles continue and I let out a laugh a little louder than needed. The locker room went silent. “I guess I’ll come in now,” I said, stifling the giggles from seconds ago. “As you guys know I’m Y/n Ullmark, your new media girl. So if you guys could suit up and head out to the hallway in 20 that would be great!” I say, and just before walking fully out of the locker room, I saw someone I recognized, Swayman. The last time I saw him was when he first got signed and became best friends with my brother. He looks a little older now. We locked eyes, he gave a smile and a wave which was returned before I headed to the hallway to set up. I set up my camera stand, the lights, and the background as the guys were lining up. A few of the boys jokingly hit on me, but I took it lightly. I could tell I was going to love this job. I was down to the last two guys which were Pasta and Sway. After photoing Pasta it was just me and Sway in the hallway. “Y/n, it’s been so long. How was school?” He asked. “Ah, he speaks. School was awesome but it definitely had its ups and downs. I’ve been keeping up with stats, you guys have been doing really well. Are you excited to be in net for the rangers game tomorrow? I hear they’ve got a new bruiser, Matt something?” I asked while fixing the lighting for his photo. “Matt Rempe, yeah I’ve heard of the kid. Make sure you get my good side tomorrow. No bad angles.” He joked. I laughed and playfully pushed him into position for the photo. I snapped a few good headshots for the roster and some full body for the Instagram, which I now run. Most of the photos weren’t usable since he kept making silly faces at the camera but those were the photos I knew the fans would adore. After taking his pictures he walked back to the locker room and I started putting away the lights and backdrops. This took longer than I thought it would. Almost all of the boys had left by the time I was almost done putting it all away. “Hey, Y/n do you need any help with all of that?” Sway asked from down the hallway, walking out of the locker room in jeans and a flannel, while putting on his hat, flipping so it's backwards. “Oh no its okay, I’m almost finished.” I responded with a smile. “Are you sure, its really no bother.” He said. “Y/n, is this guy bothering you?” My brother asked, stifling a chuckle as he walked down the hallway towards us. “Hey Bubba, Sway asked me to go get drinks with him, would you mind putting the lights and tripod in the closet?” I asked my brother sweetly, watching Jer’s face drop into a puzzled expression out of the corner of my eye. “Wait, what I-“ My brother started. “Thank youuuu.” I interrupted, grabbing Sway's hand and pulling him toward the exit. I turned around to see my brother still standing there shocked. “No need to worry bubba its just as friends, promise.” Once we walked about of the arena I let go of his hand. “Alright tendy, where are you taking me for drinks?” I asked as we make the short walk over to his truck. “Well, since I don’t have much of a choice I was thinking Brock’s bar. Have you ever been?” He asked unlocking the doors and opening his own. I opened mine and grabbed the handle at the top to pull myself in. “Oh come on Jer don’t act like you don’t love my company. I’ve been once or twice but I don’t really remember those nights honestly.” I joked, and we both laughed at the hard truth while he started the truck.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

can you write any drabble from your prompts YOU want with swayman? 🤭

27. Cold Hands 

(His hands are HUGE okay gimme a break) 

You and Jeremy stroll down the narrow spaces of Bryant Park, peeking in and out of shops while people rush around the two of you. Your hands have frozen since your hot chocolate has run out and you’re doing everything to warm them up in the hopes that you don’t lose any fingers. 

Jeremy notices this, gazing down at your frozen state and smiles, his heart eyes growing bigger every time he looks at you. You’ve both stopped by the ice rink, just watching the skaters make their laps around, your eyes lingering over a younger girl at the center, trying her best to perform a figure skating move you would never attempt in a million years. 

Jeremy’s eyes keep sliding over to you, noticing the blue hue covering your hands and the need to take care of you wins over his nerves. He takes both your hands in his, cupping them and pulling them towards his chest to try and warm you up. Your heart pounds, you let yourself step closer to him and cautiously lean your head on his chest. 

Sway moves your hands from his chest to around his back and rests under his jacket while his arms move to wrap around your neck in the warmest hug you’ve ever received. 

“Feel better?” 

“Tons,” you whisper against his chest, snuggling closer and smiling widely.

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.