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makeyoumine69 · 3 months

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Call Me Babydoll 5

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Patrick stays in your mind even after the disastrous Dorsia incident. Like a song you can't get out of your head, he continues to hum his sultry and sensual words and ways into your ears and heart. When he arrives unexpectedly with a surprise guest, he cannot deny that he is attracted to you. But is this even real?

CONTAINS: Angst, smut, masturbation (f), obsessive behavior, cursing and use of pet names, smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & hyperfixation, Daddy kink, making out, marking, biting.

WORDS: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry to make you wait so long, I hope to get in shape soon and post more often!🥰

LINKS: [Ch.4]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

Your mind was a complete mess, your heart nothing but glass dust. The echoes of your private conversation with Patrick on the outdoor terrace of Dorsia still lingered in your mind even after you returned home, though you couldn't remember how you made it since you had declined Bateman's offer to take you to your house.

The first thing you noticed when you crossed the threshold of your home was a strong, sweet scent of flowers. It was a familiar perfume that you already hated.

"Y/n? I thought you were already asleep in your room," and there she was - your father's girlfriend named Sophia, meeting you in the hall, smiling mischievously as she caught you doing something criminal. "Where have you been?"

Sophia was a middle-aged woman with Greek roots, she was really a nice person, always so kind and friendly to you, and most importantly - she never tried to replace your mother, for which you were very grateful.

"I had dinner," you replied tiredly as you took off your coat. "Not a good one."

"Ouch…" She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before continuing. "Don't be sad, honey. You're an incredible person and I'm sure that one day you'll meet the right person." Sophia cheered this, smiling as if her words were a prediction of the future. "With whom you will feel that everything is in the right place."

Sighing, you tried to master something close to a smile. "Thank you, Soph." As much as you wanted to share your worries with her, you couldn't because she could tell your father everything. "I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right here."

"Go rest," she mused, watching you go upstairs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to visit my family."

"Good luck with that." You replied before disappearing from her vision.

It was obvious that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, thanks to the endless thoughts that looped in your head like a broken record.

Why did you ever think that a man like Bateman could really take you seriously? You felt deceived, embarrassed and madly frustrated, because at the end of the day, Patrick was just playing with you like a toy, twisting you perfectly around his finger.

Fidgeting in your bed, you accidentally recalled the memories of the day he was here - you could still feel the remnants of his hypnotizing cologne as your sheets smelled of him. A lonely tear slid down your cheek, outlining the beautiful shape of your face - now so dull and dejected.

If only you could rewind time and not allow him to get close to you, not even for an inch. Sobbing, you curled up like a kitten, pressed your knees to your chest and tried to drift off, but every time you closed your eyes - his gorgeous face popped up in your mind, making you believe that he really had blessed you with a curse. A curse to be obsessed with the man who would never be yours.

It had been a week since you had seen Bateman, and somehow you had even managed to live through your depression and hide it from your father, although it was quite difficult due to his numerous questions about your sad face and bad mood. At work, some of your co-workers were also trying to figure out what was wrong with you, so you finally decided to take a few days off to relax and get your life back on track.

In the morning of one of those days, you suddenly found yourself writhing on the sheets, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. With an irritated groan, you threw the blanket aside, accidentally touching your painfully hard nipples.

Oh shit, not again.

Closing your eyes, you didn't even notice that you were dreaming about him for the third fucking time in a row. You let out a muffled gasp as your trembling hand snaked down your belly between your half-opened legs to the center of your desire.

It was just impossible to resist.

"Aww, Daddy," you moaned softly, imagining it was his hand caressing your taut folds. "Please...I need more..."

Embarrassed but absolutely horny, you spread your legs wider, letting your own digits slide along your dripping pussy, and kept picturing his beautiful face as he praised you for being such a good girl for him.

A loud gasp echoed through your room at the memory of his velvety, deep voice, playing in your head as if Bateman was really here, next to you, his hand wrapped tightly around your trembling throat as he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your climax, to see you collapse right before his dark hazel eyes.

"Mmhm, Patrick..." you frowned and shivered, your ministrations growing more impatient as you rubbed circling motions into your throbbing clit while feeling the impending orgasm building in your core. "Patrick, Patrick, please!"

To muffle your obscene moans, you had to bite the pillow next to you as you reached your climax, never stopping to massage your feverish nub.

'You are so naughty, Babydoll. Look at the mess you have made.'

The echo of his sexy voice resounded in your clouded mind, prolonging your intense orgasm and you couldn't help but cradle your breast, only to pinch your hard little tip as you craved more.

But unfortunately, after the haze of ecstasy wore off and you were finally able to think clearly, the bitter realization that it was all an illusion washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you completely broken. It felt as if you had put all your energy into getting that high, and now you could barely move, feeling satisfied yet devastated.

Over the next few hours, you showered several times and refused to leave your room, no matter how much your father and Sophia tried to convince you. Shame and despair were eating you alive from the inside out, draining all your positive emotions like parasites.

Whenever you tried to distract yourself by reading, you were annoyed by your mind tricks because every character's name starting with the letter P automatically became 'Patrick'.

You hated that man for infesting your mind, body, and soul. Before meeting Bateman, you even thought you were frigid, but now...now you were ready to climb on the walls from the consuming desire to be...possessed? Owned? Marked?

A loud knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you barely stopped yourself from squeaking - all these days, since you started having nasty dreams with Patirck, you felt like you were doing something bad and someone from your household could catch you. Quickly you approached the door to your room and after unlocking it, you let your vision - which turned out to be your father - in.

"I thought you were taking a nap," he chuckled, but then his face changed when he saw your tired eyes. "Are you sure you're not sick, (y/n)?"

"I'm not sick, Dad," you rolled your eyes and crossed your hands over your chest, ready to be lectured again. "Did something happen? I was in the middle of proofreading."

Your father hummed, tilting his head to the side. "You took a few days off to work at home?"

Scowling with annoyance, you leaned against the door and mumbled: "It helps me relax and clear my head."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that Patrick is here," you felt the ground disappear under your feet as he spoke. "He came to sign some papers and I thought you might like to join us in the living room. Soph made your favorite apple pie."

This information made your temples ache with tension, and you had to massage them to ease the stabbing pain. "Father, I... I'm not really in the mood for guests."

Especially when this guest was Patrick Bateman.

Your father just sighed and stepped back, which meant he wasn't going to try to convince you. Most of all, you hated to upset your family, even though you didn't want to see Bateman, not after the things that had happened to you during these long, crazy days.

"Okay, okay," you knew you would regret it, but now you didn't see any other option. "I'll be back soon."

With that, you closed the door, feeling the panic rising in your chest. It seemed that your father still thought that you were still on good terms with Patrick, since you had not told him anything about that damn dinner. Trying to pull yourself together, you quickly went to the mirror to freshen up a bit - the fact that you were worried about what Bateman would think of your appearance still bothered you, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you finally came downstairs, wearing a short black top and your favorite tight jeans, and no, you weren't trying to impress him - a little spice wouldn't hurt.

As you approached the living room, you began to hear a cacophony of different voices: your dad's, Sophia's, and another unfamiliar female voice that made you stop in confusion around the corner. Who was that?

"(Y/n), don't be shy, come here." Your father's comment made you frown and bite your lip in embarrassment as you felt like you were transferred back to your childhood.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the living room and immediately became the center of everyone's attention. Your eyes quickly found the owner of the unknown voice - a pretty blonde girl sitting next to Patrick with a small notebook in her elegant hands.

Another blonde, huh?

Putting on a friendly fake smile, you managed to hide your frustration and walked closer to the couch to take a seat next to your father, completely ignoring Bateman's intense gaze.

"Uh, this is Jean, Patrick's assistant," your father introduced the blonde girl to you, and she smiled shyly when you raised your eyes to her. "Jean, this is (y/n), my lovely daughter."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)," Jean murmured and turned to look at Patrick, as if looking for his approval. When he said nothing, she continued. "Patrick has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" You replied skeptically, your hands already crossed over your chest as you desperately tried to keep your composure. "How nice."

Somehow your father managed to notice the growing tension between the two of you, and his little cough caught everyone's attention. "Sorry, my throat gets dry from time to time."

"No need to apologize, Mr. (y/l/n)," Bateman suddenly joined the conversation, causing you to almost jump in your seat. "How about your lovely daughter making us some drinks?" His white-toothed smile was blinding, but you did your best not to react to this provocation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make them." You stood up quickly, seeing this as a great opportunity to escape.

"Let me help you!" Jean suddenly suggested.

"No no no, you don't have to!"

"Hey, let her help you," Patrick put forward and tapped Jean's knee several times, which you couldn't miss. "It's better not to refuse people's help, because we live in such a cruel world. You know what I mean, (y/n?)"

His smug wink at you made your hands clench into fists, but you decided not to argue with him and just stumbled out of the living room, hearing Jean's soft footsteps behind you.

In the kitchen, the two of you didn't try to strike up a conversation, feeling uncomfortable but not hostile. With casual confidence, you took out two glasses and three cups under the attentive gaze of Patrick's assistant.

"Whiskey for the boys and coffee for the girls," you hummed to yourself, finally glancing at Jean, who was standing shyly in the doorway. "Maybe you want something else?"

"No," she gasped when you asked her. "Coffee is fine."

"Good."

As the blonde woman watched you make the coffee, she came closer and looked around the kitchen. "'Your house is very cozy."

"Thank you," you gave her a warm smile and picked up a silver tray for the cups. "My mother used to love an atmosphere like this," your sudden confession made you stop everything for a moment and Jean noticed your tension. "She would be very touched by your compliment."

The sad undertone in your words made the woman pause and think about what to say next, and you used the moment to get additional things for the coffee, including sugar, cream and vanilla.

"I would only ask you to help me with this," you nodded at the nearly full tray. "And I'll take glasses and a bottle."

"Okay," Jean picked up some napkins before taking a deep breath. "Patrick was right when he said you were a lovely girl."

Frowning, you almost spilled the last cup of coffee when you heard those words. "Uh, I don't understand why you were talking about me at all."

"Well, we talked about you when I made the reservation for your dinner in Dorsia."

An awkward silence hung in the air for some time before you managed to pull yourself together and place all the cups on the shimmering tray. "Mmhm-yeah, that dinner was something, I have to admit," you let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to remember the events of that evening. "Do you like him?"

"W-what?" Jean blushed almost instantly, her beautiful blue eyes averted from your curious gaze and she had to fix her stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's my boss, and I like working with him."

"Is he a good boss?"

"Yes, he is."

Satisfied with her answer, you crossed your arms and grinned. "Glad to hear it, I mean seriously," you watched her bat her long eyelashes as you moved the tray over to her. "I think you two look great together."

Exhaling, Jean took the tray and giggled sheepishly. "What makes you think that anyway?"

"I just noticed the way he looks at you," you replied frankly, picking up the glasses. "Thanks for the help. Now I have to get a drink for the boys."

With that, you cast your most sincere smile before retreating from the kitchen, and once you were out in the hall, your face became blank and dull. The things you just said - were they just some kind of masochism? You kept asking yourself as you walked to your father's office, where he kept his favorite drinks that he only served to special guests.

Carefully, with cat-like grace, you touched a doorknob when you noticed that the door was half open. Concerned, you quickly turned around and when you saw no one, you quickly opened it and stepped inside, only to freeze in shock and it was a fucking miracle that you didn't let the glasses fall down on the floor.

Bateman was standing with his back to you, so at first you hoped he wouldn't notice, but as soon as you turned on your heels, the man spun around and the sight of you made him smile mischievously and absolutely charmingly.

"Wrong door?" Patrick chuckled and shifted his position so that you could now see him holding a bottle and a lit cigar in the other hand.

"You can't smoke in my house," you said in an irritated voice. "I'm serious."

"Oh, stop it," his mocking chuckle echoed in your ears, annoying you more and more. "Your father gave me permission. Besides, he told me he had a bottle of J&B, so I decided to take it myself, since you two were very slow."

Having said that, the man puffed on his cigar and blew several rings of smoke, causing you to cover your mouth as you started to cough. The sheer arrogance he radiated was poisonous and somehow suffocating, it was like a tight rope around your neck, no snuff could affect you like that.

"Why did you send Jean with me?"

"And why didn't you answer my calls?" Bateman interjected sternly, closing the distance between the two of you.

The sudden question made you lose your balance for a second. "Calls? What calls? I... I don't even understand what you're talking about."

With a cheeky grin, Patrick took a drag on his cigar and blew right into your face. "Hmmm, let me remember," he leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. "The one right after dinner, and the one the next day, and the one two days after that."

It was strange, because all these days no one had ever told you about Patrick's calls, and you thought that if he had really made them, your father would definitely have told you, since he wanted you two to get along so much.

"All right, let's pretend that you really did call me, but I can't understand why?"

"You seemed very upset after dinner," the man strove to parry your provocative question, though his eyes glowed with the thrill of the challenge you were giving him. "I just wanted to check on you, since your old man is worried about you too much, and... I didn't need any trouble to close the deal."

Another disappointment.

"Business above all, huh?" No matter how hard you tried to hide the pain, your voice still sounded somber.

"Shhh," his sudden touch on your lower lip caused something heavy to fall in your stomach. "Don't be like that, Babydoll. I'm just doing my job."

"Even now?" You taunted him blatantly, though your panting could be clearly heard in the room.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable in the air, but you both remained still, even when Bateman approached your neck to inhale your sweet scent, mixing it with the sharp smell of snuff.

What the hell were you doing?

When Bateman pulled away to place the bottle on the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the glasses you were holding so desperately that your fingers began to curl. Then the man squeezed the cigar between his white teeth and, with practiced ease, picked you up and carried you to your father's desk. As he set you down on the wooden tabletop, he didn't let you protest, pressing his large palm over your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed, exhaling smoke before pulling you a little closer. "C'mere, I'm going to show you something."

Carefully but determinedly, Patrick grabbed your chin and drew you closer so that your mouths were barely an inch apart. Pressing his thumb along your lips, the man forced you to part them, and in the next moment, he blew some smoke into your mouth before sealing it with his own. Intoxicated by both the smoke and Patrick's sudden intrusion, your hands clutched desperately at his broad shoulders, cramping the expensive fabric of his pinstriped suit. After all these days of desperate need for his touch, this kiss was like a sip of water in the desert; it was vital and overwhelming. With every breath you took, Bateman's movements became bolder, less tentative and more demanding; his warm hand slipped under your short top to caress your shoulder blades with feathery strokes that almost drove you to moan against his lips, but you struggled to stop yourself.

"Patrick," you gasped after breaking the kiss. "What the hell are we doing?

"You tell me, Babydoll."

"No, because it was you who told me you didn't want to be a babysitter. Did you forget?"

When you tried to slide off the desk, he wouldn't let you, pressing you closer to his strong body and finally putting his cigar in the ashtray not far from where he was holding you. "I always remember my own words…" With that, he placed both his hands on either side of your knees before moving them slowly up along your hips and God, Bateman was doing it so damn slow on purpose, forcing you to jolt from the strange tension in your lower belly - the feeling that had become your personal drug. "Oh, don't pretend you don't like it. Your body speaks for itself."

You tried to pull away from him as you couldn't stand the way his hazel eyes were stripping you down, but the more you struggled, the more Patrick grew impatient, so he just yanked roughly by your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back and expose your delicate neck, which Patrick didn't miss the chance to mark, biting your tender flesh and then sucking the mark with a muffled groan.

There was something feral about him and that 'something' was making your body respond to his every touch, every little contact.

Nuzzling your cheek, Bateman lowered one of his hands to your bare stomach, drawing invisible lines along it before suddenly cupping your throbbing pussy through the tight material of your jeans, making you squeal and shake on the desk.

Just as Patrick was about to kiss you again, you both noticed a commotion coming from behind the door and then realized it was your father, you both didn't even have a chance to move as the door was quickly opened, revealing a very compromising picture.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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bonny-kookoo · 2 months

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green!family is so cute :((( does oc see their lowkey family portrait on the fridge when she comes over?

The second time Jungkook visits with his daughter, she's a lot more comfortable basically zooming right off into your apartment the second Jungkook has taken off her boots and coat.

It makes you happy to see her this comfortable in your home, even if Jungkook feels a bit embarrassed by the way she visibly forgot to even greet you, instead jumping right onto your sofa since her favorite cartoon is already running on the TV. "I'm so sorry, I swear she's more polite usually-" He defends himself, but you wave it off.

"It's not that big of a deal Jungkook, really. I'm glad to see her happy." You reassure the young father. After all, it must be quite a handful to manage such a young child, work, and your own life all at once. And honestly, it's not surprising she's still rather unsure about you- you've noticed that she hesitated while looking at you as Jungkook had slipped off her boots.

She does, often, look at you from a distance. As if she's trying to figure out how to approach you, of if she should. So it's not that she's impolite- she just doesn't know how to really act towards you.

"I guess it might be because.. well, she's mostly around me, or my friends. And they're all men." He sighs. "I'm.. I mean, you know, I've been with women here and there, but I've.. always kept them from her, you know? I didn't want her to get confused, or attached, and then..."

"Jungkook, that's completely reasonable." You say, walking into the kitchen with him to get something to drink. "...though I do feel rather special now, hearing that." You tease, and much to your surprise, he takes the bait right away, and bites down with the force of a predator.

"Well, I'd promised myself to only ever introduce her to someone I'd see myself with long-term." He explains, walking closer to you until his hands are on your hips, eyes traveling from your neck up to meet your gaze. "And from what I can tell... and from what I've.. experienced.." He says more quietly, a warmth to his words that softens up your soul, as he leans even closer, eyes moving from your lips back to your eyes again, unsure. "...we do fit quite well." He teases with an impish grin, making your ears flop down a bit in shyness, clearly getting the hint at what exactly he's talking about.

"Minji-" You start, but he only raises his brows before he tilts his head to the side.

"Is in the living room, watching TV." He calms you. "But don't worry- I won't yet do that." He purrs, leaning closer to instead kiss your cheek, chuckling.

"But we already kissed.!" You complain as he moves away from you, grinning as he takes his and your cup of tea to bring along into the living room.

"Not really." He denies however, sending you a rather odd look. "Not.. like that." He reminds you-

and you realize what he means.

Once you sit down on the sofa- Jungkook between you and his daughter, the mood eases up quite a lot, both you and Jungkook talking about random things of your days while Minji happily watches the frog-cartoon next to her father, only occasionally getting distracted by something.

But it's when both she and her father leave that suddenly, your doorbell rings again, causing you to open it, surprised. "Did you forget something?" You ask, but instead of Jungkook answering, Minji whines, and jumps with something in her hands, holding it out for you to take.

"She left it in the car, but really wanted you to have it." Jungkook explains as you unravel the rolled up page of paper, curious as to what it might be.

It's a page out of a coloring book, colorful strokes of crayon painting the bodies of the frogs and background. A sun in the corner with a smiling face, little trees and flowers all around, and in the middle, three frogs. Two bigger one's stand next to a smaller one in the middle on a swing, the small child-frog and the bigger frog on the left colored different shades of green- with added strokes of a black fineline marker, clumsily drawing in two small lines on one side of the big frog's mouth.

Jungkook's piercings, you realize. She even drew them some bunny ears, even though they're a bit off-center and different sizes.

But what catches your attention most is the frog on the right, painted with orange and red, a fluffy big tail added to it, making it clear who it's supposed to resemble.

A small hand tugs on your shirt. Only now do you realize your eyes have begun watering up.

"I-It's really pretty Minji." You praise, blinking the tears away before they can fall, as you squat down.

"She wants you to have it. We have made a copy, it's hung up on our fridge." He kindly tells you, and you nod, sniffling a little, trying hard to keep it together. But the gentle hand of the little girl carefully petting your head is enough to make you break down a little, moving the picture away as to not get any tears on it.

The picture on the fridge presenting so much more now than just a child's drawing.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR (SERIES) PART 14

Word Count: 11.6

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions)

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD. SMUT AHEAD. PLEASE BE 18+ READING THIS. Wanna read the rest? Pinned post on my account has my masterlist!

============

Joel and Tess are in his bedroom, but nothing scintillating is about to occur. If anything the mood is sober. Sarah has been asleep for hours, Daniel is at his dads and Tess is sitting at the edge of his bed watching Joel put away his laundry, wondering why he asked her over if he isn’t going to touch her.

Joel can feel Tess' eyes on the back on his head as he pushes the shirts in the drawer aside. He's convinced he's missing one. But he knows that this is a distraction because he’s nervous, panicking about how to start this conversation. Tess watches him dig around in his drawer for several more minutes before snapping.

“Joel what’s going on? Why am I here?”

Joel’s shoulders meet his ears for a second before he turns, looking at Tess with a look that is all too familiar. A look her husband wore when he told her he wanted to end their eight year marriage. The look men wear when they are about to break her heart.

"I thinkin' we should ease up a bit, Tess," Joel finally says his voice a low rumble. She immediately stills.

“I don't understand," Tess says, her face showing her growing panic. She stands, moving towards him. "Did I do something?”

"No," Joel assures her, shaking his head and stepping out of her reach. "Nothing like that. Nothing to do with you. I just . . . I think I thought I was ready for something and I don't know that I was. And that's not fair to you."

She comes to sit next to him on the bed, her hand falling to his knee as she gazes at him.

“What are you trying to say?”

"Maybe we take a break?" Joel answers honestly. "I'm worried Sarah's gonna get confused."

"Sarah never sees me outside of play dates, Joel. Don't try to use your daughter as an excuse."

Tess' arms are crossed over her chest, her defences up. She's completely correct.

"Tess I'm sorry," Joel says, his large brown eyes reflecting the guilt he feels. "It's just too much too fast and I. . . I'm not all in."

He expects Tess to swear at him, to stalk from the room. He expects a slap, a shout that he’s a bastard. Instead she turns her eyes on him and she’s smiling at him like he’s some sweet, naïve thing.

"Joel, you’re just scared. It's totally normal to feel like that. It's a big leap and we both have kids but I think you're worth it."

Tess frowns at Joel's muted response to that. She'd expected a smile or even a gentle agreement. Instead Joel looks down at his hands.

Tess feels her stomach sour at this. She'd thought that she and Joel were in a good spot. Yeah, things had moved a bit quickly at her insistence but that's only because she could see how easily they fit together. They were well matched in disposition and looks. Both had demanding jobs they found satisfying, both had tight knit families,

So then why is he trying to spoil everything now?

"I thought we were good," Tess says tentatively.

"We were- are," Joel self corrects. "It's not that I don't enjoy your company, or that I don't like you. You’re an amazing woman, I really mean it. Its . . . I don't feel right about it, Tess and I think I need a bit of time."

Tess is worrying her lower lip between her teeth, her face thoughtful. She slides closer to Joel on the bed. He notices her thigh pressed tightly against his. She tilts forward, her chest heavy against his arm.

“Joel, whatever it is-“

“I kissed someone,” Joel confesses, his cheeks burning.

Tess feels her eyes blow wide at this. She doesn’t need to ask.

You.

Of course it was you. The niggle in the back of her head. The voice that always told her you were too close to the family she wants for herself. She doesn’t bother asking, doesn’t want to hear the confirmation.

“Is it going to happen again?”

Joel thinks of your mouth and hears your cries of his name as you crested on his thigh. But also thinks of how you’d pushed from him and Paul’s kiss to your cheek and how happy Paul makes you and Joel shakes his head.

“No. It’s not.”

///

You haven’t spoken to Joel for four days. Four impossibly long days. Four days of replaying him guiding you to arch along his thigh, four days of recalling the warmth of his mouth, four days of waiting for Paul to leave the apartment so you can touch yourself groaning out Joel’s name until you’re hoarse.

And four days of insurmountable guilt.

I need to tell Paul.

I can’t.

Telling Paul will hurt him.

No point because it’s not going to happen again. You telling him just makes you feel better but it’ll make Paul feel worse.

Nothing else is gonna happen with Joel.

Nothing else can happen with Joel.

What else could happen with Joel?

Could it happen in his bed?

Stop it.

The phone rings and Joel’s name pops up like a demon come to life. Fuck even his name looks sexy to you right now. Joel Miller. Milllllller. The l’s trace your tongue along the edge of your top teeth suggestively.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you said you had some decorations for the party tomorrow, right?”

“Yep.”

“Mind if I pick them up? I’m in the neighborhood.”

Yes. Yes you do mind. You cannot have Joel here in your house again. You lean against the wall, suddenly breathless.

“I’m not at home,” you lie. “I’ll bring them to you-“

You catch yourself realizing; which is worse? The remembrance of Joel making you come right here against this very wall? Or going to Joel’s house with his lush bed that you’ve definitely imagined gratuitously fucking him on?

“The kids are gonna be at my place watching a movie around four if you wanna come then,” Joel adds in a low tone and you realize the implication.

You two definitely won’t be alone. It’s safe.

“Okay. Four it is.”

///

Smart woman.

Smart to tell him no and that you’d bring the decorations here to his place. Smart because Joel had already been hard, trying not to think about the ache of his cock when he’d called you from the truck.

Smart because he told Tess that it wouldn’t happen again and she’d nodded and held him and told him she understood. That he and she were both adults and that slips happened. Once. That she wanted them to work.

Tess has to work late and asked Joel to babysit. Actually, she asked Joel if you would babysit Daniel over at her place but Joel hadn’t been okay with that. It felt strange to ask you that. So instead he’d brought Daniel here.

Now it’s four pm and Joel pushes himself off the sofa at the sound of the doorbell. Daniel and Sarah sit on the floor, popcorn in his daughters lap as they stare up at the television. She’s so distracted by the movie she doesn’t even notice when you slip away. Daniel glances over only a second before his attention is back on Jiminy Cricket.

He opens the door to see you laden with bags and he immediately feels remorse.

“Here, lemme help,” Joel says, taking the bags from you, heaving them onto his shoulders with ease. He misses the way your eyes widen at the sight, your gaze going dreamy for a moment before you snap to it and carry the rest in after him.

He notices you’re wearing jeans and an extremely baggy sweatshirt that he can only assume is an oversized piece of Paul’s, zipped high on your neck. It hits Joel moments later that you’ve tried to cover your entire body up, to try and hide from him.

Don’t you get that looks are only part of it? And that you covering up just makes him want to uncover you? Unzip that hideous sweatshirt and see what’s underneath? Are you naked? No bra?

Quit it, Miller.

“Did you bring enough shit?” Joel muses, looking at the wide array of bags. You smile softly shrugging at the pile of balloons, decorations, fabric and more.

“I wasn’t sure exactly what you and Tess had decided on,” you reply breezily. “I just brought over a bunch of stuff. Whatever you don’t use I’ll grab after the party.”

Joel nods, watching as you begin to pull things from bags. Joel warns you with a hush that Sarah and Daniel are in the living room down the hall so if you keep your voice down you may just be able to escape without being pulled into watching the Little Mermaid for the millionth time after Pinocchio. You nod in agreement, sure to keep your voice quiet.

“Okay I don’t know what your plan is for before the party, but I always wanted to wake up on my birthday to a room full of balloons. Like, you walk downstairs and it’s just a sea of color you have to wade through.”

“You always wanted that? As an adult?” Joel chides.

“Obviously not as an adult,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Well. . . Maybe a little as an adult.”

Joel smirks at the laugh you try to suppress. “Did you ever get it?”

“What do you think? Why do you think I’m trying to get it for Sarah? It’s so at least one of us can experience the joy of a balloon room!”

Joel chuckles softly at this, watching how you busy yourself moving around the crowded table. He knows why you’re doing this – the more you two talk about this, the less time there is to think about him at your house coaxing you to ride his thigh to climax.

Smart woman.

Not too smart though, because the longer he doesn’t have you, the more turned on he gets. Even now as you talk he’s imagining all the things he could do with you.

“But I was thinking we could do all these different shades of purple balloons in the kitchen,” you continue excitedly. “So when she comes to have her birthday breakfast she’ll walk into this giant thing of balloons and that’ll just start the day right.”

“Birthday breakfast?” Joel is smiling widely now. His body moves towards you, instinctively drawing near, neither of you notice as he does this.

“Yeah you know,” you say with a shy smile. “The special breakfast you get on your birthday?”

“What does that entail, usually?”

“Uh. . . Pancakes with little faces in them? Strawberries cut to look like flowers? I don’t fucking know, Joel.”

“Well, in this house we go out for birthday breakfast,” Joel explains. He’s standing so close to you now, his hand almost brushing yours. “Just me and the birthday girl. Makes it special since I already make pancakes for her every fucking Sunday.”

Still smiling you give him a strangely watery look, nodding and then looking away.

///

You move to stand behind the kitchen island, dragging some of the decor over with you. You need to step away from Joel for a moment; you need to give yourself some breathing room.

It’s fucking warm in here.

You unzip the sweatshirt a fraction, needing to release some of the heat that you’re concerned has nothing to do with your choice of clothing and everything to do with Joel’s lips when they curve into a smirk.

You go back to the small frog and toad decor you got from the party store, trying to fit the cardboard pieces together so they create a cute little stand. You’re distracted by this, not even noticing Joel is across from you until you hear his low rasp.

“Is that my shirt?”

Your fingers still. Joel moves to stand next to you at the island, his dark eyes fixed on the grey fabric peeking out from underneath the sweatshirt. Your eyes blow wide, panic overtaking you as you try to even your breathing.

“W-what?”

“Is that my shirt?" Joel repeats in a murmur, his face unreadable. You feel your heart jumping, humiliation now overtaking you.

"No," you lie, putting down the craft and facing away from him. You zip your jacket up to your neck, hiding the shirt again.

Fuck, you’d forgotten you were wearing it.

Your hands go to the top of the island, placing your palms there to steady yourself as your heart throws itself against your ribcage.

You're not expecting Joel’s hand to slide under your hair, pushing it over your shoulder. You go to pull away but his warm fingers skate over your exposed neck. You shiver as his forefinger curls at the edge of the collar, pulling it down so he can see the tag.

"You shop at the Men's Wearhouse?"

"Rummage sale," you gulp. "I-it was in with a bunch of women's stuff. I guess I just assumed-"

Your hands are still on the counter, steadying yourself. You can feel the hot breath of Joel on the back of your neck before he speaks softly.

"Why are you lyin' to me?"

You crane your neck, looking at Joel over your shoulder.

How can you explain it to him? That when you wear it you feel like he's there with you? That you feel good when you carry a part of him around with you? What would he even say to that?

You would never tell him that. He's with Tess. He's made his choice. You're with Paul, you made yours. You'll always be friends. It's the only way you can have him and Sarah in your life. The only way you can survive.

But friends don't look at each other the way you and Joel are right now, do they? Friends don't get so close, practically breathing into one anothers mouths. You tilt your head away from him, needing to steady yourself.

Just focus. Deep breath and then ---

Wordlessly Joel's hands are skimming around to the front of your sweatshirt, pulling down the zipper with a sensual slowness from behind you. It releases at the bottom and he pulls the sweatshirt from your shoulders, sliding it down the crook of your arm before letting it fall to your feet.

You still face away from him, your cheeks blazing because it's so obvious by how it hangs on you that you are in fact wearing Joel’s t-shirt. The one he gave you that night when your clothes had needed to be dried. The clothing you told him you’d return and never did. The t-shirt that you wear to bed sometimes, or out under your usual clothes.

You wait for the humiliating comment. The amused observation that you're obsessed with him.

But it never comes.

Instead his head is tilted forward, his mouth skating up your neck until it reaches your ear.

"I like seein' you in my clothes," Joel murmurs there.

Your eyes shutter at the sensation of his hot breath on your earlobe. His fingers move along the base of the t-shirt, as if he intends to pull it up over your head.

You want him to.

Wait. Wait you want him to? Are you fucking insane?

You know that you’re not alone here. That you could be caught here, bracing yourself on the counter as Joel leans over you, his hands sliding up under the hem of your (his) t-shirt.

Your heart slams against your ribs so harshly you lose your balance, your knees trembling. You worry you're going to faint. You feel his hips press into your back, keeping you steady against the counter.

You should stop, you know this. But Joel is so tall and broad behind you, his lips so soft as he now kisses the side of your neck. Goosebumps break out all over as his warm hand start sliding up your stomach.

You move back as his palms come to cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your already straining nipples through the fabric of your bra. You grip the edge of the counter so tightly your knuckles are white.

"Joel we can't," you murmur, even as you arch yourself into his hands.

"I can't stop," he says almost helplessly against your neck. "I can't-“

His hands are kneading your tits and you grind back against him, your eyes shut languidly. His mouth is skimming along your jaw, teasing you.

You want to stay like this forever.

As he wanted to do that day not so long ago, he unbuttons your jeans and before you can think to stop him; his calloused palm is hurriedly sliding under the band of your panties.

His hand is warm and inviting and feels so good against your skin. He cups your sex in his wide palm before pausing as he looks at you, uncertainty passing over his features and yours.

What are we doing?!

You slip your own hand over his with the focused goal of pulling it from the confines of your under things.

"We can't do this," you say, even though there's no power behind your words.

Something changes in Joel's eyes, a feeling you can't place. Again he pauses, looking at you and inhaling with a shudder.

"We shouldn't," he breathes against your mouth.

"It's wrong," you agree gently, your lips almost brushing against his.

Joel shivers at the near contact, swallowing. You feel him pull back, his hand halfway out of your panties. You relax because you two made the mature decision to stop.

But then Joel's gripped your own hand in his and thrust it into your panties, towards your dripping core.

"What if it's your fingers?" Joel pants hot in your ear. "If it's your fingers it's not wrong, right?"

There's so little logic in that statement you could laugh. But nothing seems funny right now. Joel's his lower lip is quivering with need.

“I… I…”

His thumb has come to land on the back of your hand and he makes tiny circles there as he waits, pressing a kiss to your exposed throat before pulling back. His face is so close to yours, his eyes drinking in your features.

"Show me," he rasps against your cheek as he urges your hand down to land on the dripping slot of your sex. With shaking fingers he urges your digits gently up the soaking seam. "Make yourself come."

You hold in a whimper, terrified you'll be heard. He breathes harshly though his nose and you hold in a moan when you see him start to palm himself through his jeans with his free hand.

"Let me watch," he urges huskily.

He curls your fingers inwards, sliding over your clit. You jump a little, on high alert. He smiles, urging your fingers to splay and then encourages you to begin rubbing before he removes his hand, sliding it up over your abdomen and out of your panties.

It feels so fucking good.

Devastatingly good. And not because of how you're touching yourself or that you could be caught, but because of whom it’s for. It feels good because Joel asked you to do it and you are. It feels good because Joel Miller is hard for you, whispering how much he needs to see you come for him while you wear his clothes.

One of his hands is at vee of his jeans, the other crawling up your t-shirt to knead your breast.

You try to turn away from him, to hide the pleasure that is taking over your features but he forces your cheek back gently with his free hand. He does this until you're facing him over your shoulder the best you can.

"Need to see your face when you come for me," Joel explains in a rasp as his clothed hips circle your ass.

He didn't just say that. Joel Miller didn't just purr those words in the sexiest baritone you've ever heard. Does he know what his voice does to you?

Your fingers are working quickly over your clit now and Joel's hands are both on your hips, guiding you against him as you work hurriedly within your panties.

You can both hear how wet you are and normally that would humiliate you, but the effect it has on Joel is anything but embarrassing. His eyes are blazing, looking down the length of your body with a look of almost pained pleasure.

He groans. "Fuck, I wanna taste you again."

Jesus Christ. All he has to do is keep talking like that and you're gonna hit the edge.

Memories of that night back in December against you and a fresh wave of arousal flood you.

He presses into you tightly from behind, tilting you over the counter slightly. You can feel him throbbing through his jeans. He whispers for you to go faster, and you feel yourself bucking into your fingers as your orgasm approaches.

"I want it," you say over and over as the haze of lust takes you on. "I-i wanna..."

He's pressing a groan into the top of your head before pulling back to watch for face. He obviously enjoys the sight of your eyes fixed on his face as you bring yourself closer and closer to the precipice because his hand has begun palming himself in earnest through his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to cry out. It feels so fucking good to have him looking at you like that and holding back his own groans as you bring yourself closer and closer to orgasm.

"I need you to come," he whispers in your ear in a ragged voice. "I need it. I need you. Please, I ---"

Rapid footsteps on wood sound out, heading in your direction. You and Joel practically jump apart only seconds before Sarah busts into the kitchen with a squeak. She's carrying the big model plane you brought over last week, pretending to fly it through the air.

"Daniel wants a water, daddy."

You can see that Joel is rock hard through his jeans, blessedly shielded by the counter. Seeing it makes your breath come out in jagged little huffs. You're impossibly thankful that the shirt you're wearing covers the top of your jeans, hiding the fact that they are undone.

"No problem babygirl," Joel says clearing his throat. "I'll bring it in right away."

Sarah nods and skips back to Daniel and the still blasting television. The air in the room seems to be sucked out leaving you gasping and red -faced.

What is wrong with the two of you?

The first time could be chalked up to pent up anger coming out in a need to feel each other’s bodies. But this? There was no need for this. There was no animosity, no verbal sparring, just this ache between your selfish fucking legs.

Selfish. Just like-

"I should go,"

"Don't," Joel says seemingly before he can help himself. He moves towards you but you hold a hand up between you, stepping back.

"Joel, no. This is so... What the fuck are we doing?"

He's silent.

"I'm with Paul, you're with Tess, remember?"

"You're not happy," Joel tells you in a quiet voice, his eyes dark and intense. "I know you're not."

You're angry about the entire situation. Angry that his touch makes you do things that make you ashamed. Angry that he thinks he knows everything about you and Paul. Furious because you know that if he touches you again you won't be able to say no.

"Go give Daniel his water, Joel." Your hushed tone is cold as you pull on and zip up your sweatshirt. "Go see your daughter. She's sitting with your girlfriend’s son right now."

Joel stands there in the kitchen, looking at you with those impossibly sad, wide eyes of his. He moves towards you again, his body broad and imposing despite the sweetness in his gaze.

"Please," you beg, shaking your head. "Please don't. I can't.”

If he touches you, even to say goodbye, you won't have the strength to deny him anything.

"Fuck," Joel says shaking his head and blinking. "You're right. You're right. Go. I'm so sorry, just go.”

///

Maria brings her magazines into your suite, her eyes bright. She’s been on cloud nine for the last week, her dark eyes bright and her smile so wide you think it might crack her face in half. You absolutely relish the sight.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“The dress is in!”

You give an excited squeal, jumping up and demanding she show you photos but she refuses, as she has done since she bought the damn thing.

“It’s a surprise,” she insists with a melodramatic twist to her voice. “You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

“It’s good you’re here,” you say, suddenly anxious. “I wanted to talk to you about something kinda huge.”

She pauses, glancing around your suite. Something looks different. The place more sparse. It’s not until she sees the cardboard boxes stacked by the door that she understands. You’re distracted getting towels from the drier and bringing them to an empty box so you don’t see how her face hardens or how she shakes her head slowly.

“Are you packing?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling at her. “It’s your early wedding present. I’m moving in with Paul when the lease is up at his old place. He found a place for us in Leander.”

“Leander? That’s like forty minutes away from here.”

“I know,” you say, surprised by the sudden hostility in her tone. “But Paul has the car, so it’ll be an easy commute. No more bus for me!”

When Maria doesn’t smile back, you feel the first bubbling in your chest. Something is off. You had assumed she’d be delighted, even excited at how you were both in such committed relationships.

You haven’t told her about Joel and his beautiful fucking mouth on yours or his hands or - well, any of it. It’s a shameful secret you’ll live with. A family trait, you tell yourself in your dark moments.

"You can’t move out," Maria blurts.

You turn, surprised by the chill of her tone. You begin to load the towels into the box marked “toiletries”. As you do, you realize that maybe she’s just worried about not seeing you as much. This past year has been so wonderful, both of you being so present in one another’s lives.Your heart softens and you smile sweetly at her, reaching out to embrace her.

“You know I’ll come and visit all the time.”

“It isn’t that.”

You stop, your hands dropping to your sides.

"Maria you're getting married next weekend," you say with a laugh. "You're telling me that you and Tommy are gonna live upstairs, build a family and I should just stay living in your basement?"

"I already talked to Tommy about it and he agrees you should stay," Maria insists. "Says you're like family-"

"But I'm not family, am I?" you suddenly defend, your cheeks flushing as you say it out loud. "Not really. You and Tommy will be a family. Joel is Tommy's family, Sarah's his niece. But who am I?"

The silence that follows is as hideous as it is devastating. You've never feel so alone as when you voice your deepest insecurities.

"You're my best friend," Maria finally answers with glassy eyes. "My chosen family."

"It's not the same." You shake your head, turning from her so she can't see your tears. "You were gonna flip this house, remember? It was supposed to be an investment for you."

"I like this house," Maria says softly. Her arms are folded as if she's holding herself from crumbling. "Tommy and I fell in love in this house. We built together in this house. I'm not selling it. So there's no reason for you to go."

"Even if you aren't selling this place, I have to go." You pull the tape over the cardboard, its sound loud and cracking in the quiet room as you sniffle. "Paul is offering me a real future.”

“Oh fuck Paul!” Maria shouts, surprising you. You can see the glare in her features, the ferociousness that comes with a certain air of protectiveness. “Paul doesn’t deserve you. He never has.”

“What?”

“You know it, I know it, Tommy fucking knows it,” Maria says emphasizing Tommy’s name. “And what’s worse is you pretending like he does.”

Rage and humiliation and deep hurt slash through you like a knife to the gut.

“Paul wants to marry me, Maria. He wants to have kids and buy a house and he wants it with me!” you shout back, surprising you both. You don't think you've ever shouted at Maria before. “Why is that so wrong? Why is it so fucking wrong to want what you and Tommy have? Or what Joel has? Why don’t I get to be happy?”

“You will,” Maria promises with a sincerity she truly feels. “But not with Paul.”

You give a frustrated noise in the back of your throat, throwing the towels into the box, not even bothering to fold them.

“Even if it wasn’t Paul, I can't live in my friend’s basement forever, Maria. Do you know how pathetic that feels?"

"More pathetic than running back to some guy who left you to go play at being a rock star?"

That stings.

That actually physically hurts worse than if she’d slapped you.

"Stop it," you say softly because now the tears building. But Maria isn't stopping.

"A guy who thought ditching you after two years together just so he could live out some adolescent fantasy was fair? Who took your car?"

She's furious and hurt and you can see it all in her face. It’s like all you can make out is her face, everything else is black around the edges. You feel sick.

"A guy who came back with his tail between his legs because he couldn't make it so he-"

"Enough!" you shout. “I don’t want to hear it, Maria!”

You brush the tears from your eyes, hiccupping a cry and sinking to your knees as Maria shakes her head and leaves, slamming the door behind her.

///

Mini golf is not a sport beloved by Joel Miller.

In fact he hates it. Hates bending down until his back cracks, hates the stupid fucking attractions at each putting green, hates that annoying children that rush by urging him to hurry up so they can take their turn.

But he loves seeing Sarah so happy.

She's giggling madly her hands in the air in a tiny v of victory. Her little friend Jessie is at your other hip, looking up at you through pink glasses with just as much affection as Sarah. You came to the party, cheeks pink and unable to look at Joel but you’re here. Paul is coming late, you mention to Maria and Tommy. Good. Joel hopes he doesn’t come at all.

"Hole in one!"

“Hole in five,” you counter with a laugh. “But since it’s your birthday I think I can let it slide.”

And he loves watching you and her laughing as you tally the scores. He knows that you’re being casual, being ‘normal’ with Joel because its Sarah’s party and you refuse to make it awkward for her.

Sarah is confused that the lowest score is the winning one, citing that there must be a mistake. As they work on this Joel surreptitiously kicks his bright green ball into the plastic hole. It makes a rattling sound that draws your attention.

“Daddy got a hole in one too!” Sarah says and Jessie joins in her cheer, the two of them jumping up and down, holding hands. You however are swanning towards Joel with a very disbelieving look.

"Cheater!" You cry out, your face flushed merrily. You meet his eyes now, and he sees them twinkling.

"No proof," Joel smirks.

You and Sarah give him a dubious look before setting your own ball down on the green and taking aim. You’re shockingly good at this and Joel has to hold in a laugh when you sail by, tossing your hair over your shoulder dramatically as you get your real hole in one.

“Some people are just natural talents,” you say laughing.

Joel watches as you, Sarah and Jessie go walking over to the next par. Both the girls have taken a hand, twisting you around as you all laugh. You hair streams out behind you, back lit by the sun of the afternoon. Your laugh loudly and without care.

Fuck you're luminous.

Joel can't stop looking at you, trying to be covert. He sweeps a hand over his eyebrows, his eyes straining to keep you in his sights without being obvious. He goes towards the group, his eyes on you and not on Sarah who is swinging her club around wildly while Jessie takes her turn.

"Careful," Joel laughs when she almost clips him. "Almost got me in the head, babygirl."

"Sorry daddy," Sarah says, her eyes filled with concern which lessens when she sees the second half of your group; Tess, Daniel, Maria and Tommy heading to your course. Maria gives you a good-natured scowl.

"How are you all so damn fast?"

"Sarah, Jessie and I are just really good at mini golf," you brag airily, running your hand through Sarah's springy locks. "Joel on the other hand..."

///

The group laughs at the insinuation, but you don't miss the way Tess hangs back a bit from the group, her smile not reaching her eyes when she looks at you and Sarah.

You remember that night in the bar with Tess.

You remember the kitchen with Joel.

"Sarah why don't you help Tess with this round?" you say, giving her tiny frame a gentle nudge in Tess direction.

"Don't wanna," Sarah says, her hand going to grip yours.

You can feel the brutal sting of public rejection for Tess and your heart cracks. You go down to one knee in front of her with Joel staring at the back of your head.

"Paul is gonna be here soon and I need to visit with him," you say nudging her again. "Go on and play with Tess. I bet she'd like the help."

Sarah rolls her eyes but does as you request. She holds a hand out to Tess who takes it gratefully. She doesn’t even look at you in thanks, just murmurs to Sarah about how good Sarah is at mini golf.

It hurts.

You can’t lie and say that seeing Sarah with Tess hurts. Maria has come towards you, looking nervous.

“So where’s Paul?” Maria broaches with her eyes soft.

She knows that after the other night’s outburst you two are both on shaky ground. A friendship spanning decades and this is the worst thing you’ve said or done to one another.

It makes you both feel weird and timid around each other, despite the sisterhood you have always shared.

You don’t want to be upset though – her wedding is coming up and you want this time to be happy for your friend. You move past the irritation of the other night and accept the olive branch.

“He’s gonna be a bit late.”

Maria nods, not saying much else. You both watch Tommy try and hit his ball, his tall frame hunched over comically. When his ball sails into one of the pools of shallow aqua water and swears loud enough for Sarah to chide him, you and Maria giggling softly to one another.

///

Joel can hear you and Maria laughing up ahead. He feels his feet instinctively pulling him towards your part of the group, his chest warming at the sound of your laughter.

“Joel?”

Tess breaks Joel from his reverie. Joel pauses, glancing over to see her striding towards him.

"I have to go to the washroom. Can you watch Daniel?"

Joel’s eyes snap to Daniel who is getting ready for his turn to swing at the last hole. He’s far behind the group, finding it hard to continue on when there are so many rocks and blades of grass to look at.

"Sure."

"Might be nice for my guys to get to know each other."

She squeezes Joel’s shoulder tightly before sashaying away through the groups of young golfers.

It's obvious that Tess is trying to get him to bond with her son, Daniel. He tries, fascinated by the difference between a son and a daughter. Sarah is so delicate, hesitant at times whereas Daniel is loud, abrasive and he loves to smash his toy trucks into each other.

It's funny because growing up Joel has always assumed he'd have sons. Perhaps because he'd always had Tommy there, taking care of his little brother like a father would. And then Sarah had come along and it's like he'd been waiting his whole life to meet her, this sweet little girl, folding into the position of "girl-dad" with such ease that he can't imagine anything else.

With Daniel it's especially hard because he just doesn't feel an ounce of connection to the kid. Daniel is sweet, a bit whiny compared to Sarah (but every child that isn't Sarah annoys him) and he doesn't seem to like Joel that much.

Joel watches Daniel hit the pale yellow golf ball with his club, stomping his little foot when he misses the hole. It's almost amusing to see the kid fall down onto his butt in a frustration. He drops to his knee, about to tell Daniel its fine but pulls back when Daniel erupts into a shrieking wail.

Tess is still in the washroom, leaving Joel to kneel next to a screaming boy who is now throwing his body backwards onto the green while his tiny fists and feet bang against the artificial turf.

"Daniel-"

"YOU'RE NOT MY DADDY! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Joel physically recoils at the aggression in the tiny boys freckled features. He flinches when heads turn in his direction, embarrassment flooding him. The back of his neck feels hot.

"I never said I was your daddy, Daniel. C’mon now. Get up."

Daniel continues to wail. Loud enough for the world to hear. He continues to urge the boy up, his neck warm from the looks of those nearby.

He glances over when he sees a pair of shoes come into his peripheral. Of course it's you. Joel feels his breath leave him as you come into focus.

"Daniel? Was that you yelling? You've got some pretty impressive lungs!" you drop to your knees in front of the sniffling boy. "I bet you're a really good swimmer."

Having expected discipline, Daniel is stunned into silence by your gentle amusement.

"It's no fair," Daniel whines, kicking at the dimpled little ball by his foot. "This golf is stupid."

"Oh, I bet I know what happened," you say with a voice of wonder that Daniel can't help but respond to. You tap your chin theatrically looking into middle distance as the young boy stares up at you.

He hiccups a muttered response, his eyes wet with tears. "What?"

"Come with me." You hold out your hand and he takes it, allowing you to pull him to a stand. He follows you off of the green, allowing the patient family who has been waiting to begin their turn.

You sit by on one of the plastic benches designed to look like wood, patting the seat next to you. Joel watches as Daniel clamors up his eyes rapt on your face. You hold up his pale yellow ball and your bright red one in front of you, looking thoughtful and pretending to weigh them in each hand.

"Just as I suspected," you say with a serious tone. "You got one of the faulty ones. I heard about this happening. The balls look normal but they're unbalanced inside so they wobble and don't go into the cup even when they're supposed to."

Joel can only stare at you. How are you just so natural with everyone? Even Daniel is captivated, his eyes widening.

"That's what happened!" Daniel says in such an exuberant tone that Joel sees you try to hold in a laugh.

Tess has returned from the washroom and is coming up behind Daniel. Joel misses this, so focused on your face and the way you smile with your whole face.

"You wanna take my spot with Jessie and Sarah? I don't mind. I'll even trade your ball for mine."

You hold out your chipped red golf ball in his direction. Daniel smiles, tears forgotten and reaches for it only to have Tess tug him back.

"He's fine," Tess snaps with a sharp look. She comes to stand behind Daniel, gripping him by the shoulder as she looks down at you.

Joel feels his hand tighten reflexively when he sees your smile fade.

"Sorry!" You say red faced. “Just thought Daniel might want to join Sarah and Jessie at the next hole."

"He doesn't," Tess assures you, her eyes flinty. "He and Joel were hanging out, getting to know each other better."

You seem to understand something in that because your eyes go from Daniel to Joel and then back to Tess. You force a smile and nod. You straighten, embarrassment flushed in your cheeks. You look like a child who has been admonished by a teacher.

"Right. Sorry about that."

Before Joel can tell you that you've done nothing to apologize for, Maria and Tommy are calling for you, echoed by the two young girls. Joel watches as you scamper off. Tess urges Daniel to continue on ahead, joining the group before she sneers.

"Jesus does she always have to do that?"

Joel is confused by Tess' anger, twisting to face her. "What?"

"Try to control everything."

"That's not what she was doin', Tess," Joel explains calmly. "Your son was screaming his head off after he missed the cup. She was just calming him down so he didn’t keep causing a scene with his tantrum."

Tess 'cheeks go pink, embarrassed about a litany of things in that sentence.

"She's always just... around," Tess says with a flustered look when Joel openly scowls at her.

"I like her around," Joel says in a voice that does not welcome criticism or debate. "So does Sarah. So do most people."

Tess goes very red in the face, urging Daniel to go join Maria. Joel knows what coming, feels it in his bones. And yet it's not until she says the words that his eyes slip shut.

"I can only assume it was her?”

Joel feels his stomach sink, so aware of their surroundings. This is his babygirl's birthday and he doesn't want it spoiled. His voice is a low murmur that only she can hear.

"Not now. Not here."

"When?" Tess challenges.

"Tonight. At my place."

He’s thought about it since last night after you left. Even if you are with Paul, even if you don’t want him, he can’t do this to Tess. She doesn’t deserve it. He’d have done it last night if it weren’t for the party. He doesn’t want anything spoiling it.

"After I drop Daniel at his dad's?” Tess says with false enthusiasm. “After Sarah's asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe I should just start going through your bedroom window?" Tess says ruefully. "Save some time and that way Sarah will never have any clue that I'm staying over or that I'm in your life at all."

Joel is silent. Nothing he says will change anything. He knows Tess is mad and he knows she won't stop.

"Why are you with me?"

"I said not now, Tess," Joel almost barks. "Not at my kid’s birthday party."

Tess' eyes are glossy now. She's biting the inside of her cheek to stop them from becoming teary.

"Do you have any idea how brutal it is to stand back and watch your boyfriend falling more and more in love with someone else, Joel?"

Joel feels his stomach drop at this, because not only is she completely justified in feeling this way; it’s also become clear that his affection for you is not subtle or hidden. It’s obvious enough that Tess can see it. Obvious enough that she immediately knew you were the one he kissed.

Tess looks about to say more but breaks off to glance over his shoulder. Joel feels his blood run cold at the sound of a new low voice behind him.

"Sorry I'm late."

Of course it's fucking Paul.

Paul who as Joel turns to observe, looks like he stepped out of some hipster magazine. Paul who is giving Joel a very peculiar look with those piercing blue eyes of his.

Paul who has likely just heard all of what Tess just said.

"Have you seen-"

"She's with Sarah and Maria over there," Joel interrupts, tossing his hand in your direction. "We'll catch up with y'all in a sec."

Paul nods, a wrapped gift under his arm as he saunters towards the group. Joel wills himself not to look in your direction when you spot him, giving a soft coo of his name at his approach.

"Tess I can't do this now. Later,” Joel pleads. “After the party we'll talk. I promise."

Tess has tears in her eyes but she nods, sniffling. Silently they walk towards the group, both faces twisted in a quiet anguish they cannot yet voice.

///

Part two of the birthday party takes place in the McDonalds a short walk from the mini golf location. The group of you walks over, Tess holding Daniel’s hand, Sarah and Jessie holding yours. Joel walks behind the group, watching you walk, admiring how you look from behind and then immediately feeling guilty about it.

Maria and Tommy drive on ahead, setting up the balloons and toad decor and a gift table so that when Sarah walks in she knows exactly where to go. She squeals, almost jumping in place as Maria helps to put her party hat on. Paul has brought the gift you bought, wrapped beautifully in shimmering pastels with him.

"Is that for me?" Sarah asks shyly up at him when he places it amongst the others. Paul grins down at her, nodding.

“Yep. We got you something real good.”

You smile at Paul, finding it sweet to see him interact with Sarah. It gives you a glimpse of what he’d be like as a dad.

The kids take a seat around the table and you help Sarah with the plastic bib, smiling as she tells you all about how she hopes she’ll get two burgers (she will, but she’ll only eat half of the first one).

You can see Tess over the crowd of people in the restaurant. She and Joel are speaking just outside the doors. You continue watching as Tess goes to take his hand. He sweeps his hand down her back instead, gently urging her forward and you feel your stomach tighten because you know what that feels like, to have Joel’s hand at the small of your back.

“Are you listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure. What?”

You see Joel and Tess approach and try to hold in a frown. Joel's hand is still at the small of her back. Innocuous to most, but painfully obvious to you.

“Gonna get a drink, you want one?”

“Sure. Diet Coke.”

Paul nods, heading off towards the till and Maria walks over, her head shaking as you look on to see the kids eating their burgers just delivered by a tired looking teenager wearing a pasted-on smile.

You and Maria watch as the kids start dueling with their French fries, laughing and dipping them into ketchup before pretending to be stabbing each other with the pointed tips of the crunchiest ones.

“From dive bars to fucking McDonalds,” Maria tuts as she takes a sip of her soda. “Who could’ve seen that happening?”

“Not me,” you say with a laugh, the two of you collapsing into hushed giggles. Tommy walks over, slinging his arm around his fiancée. Maria has brought her new digital camera, taking photos of everything. Right now she chooses to take an unflatteringly close snapshot of her beloved pulling a face into the camera.

“What’re you two gigglin’ about over here?”

“Just the realization that we’re no longer cool,” you say with a dramatic sigh that Maria grins at. Tommy smirks as well. “I wouldn’t smile too much, Miller, you’re just as un-cool as we are.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” Tommy growls playfully. Joel, who has noticed the three of you giggling comes over, his eyes traveling along your faces.

“What am I missing?”

“A hat,” you tell him pointedly. You reach beside him to grab several of the pointy cone-shaped paper hats like Sarah and the other kids are wearing and hand them to the group. Tommy and Maria put theirs on without question, as do you, the tight elastic string digging into your jaw.

“C’mon,” you say playfully as Joel hesitates. “Can’t party without a hat.”

Joel shoots you a dark look undercut by the smirk he’s trying to hide. He places the hat on his head, the rubber band taut around his chin. While you and the group look playful, on Joel the party hat looks atrocious with its McDonalds cartoon and Joel’s curls haphazardly askew underneath.

“Nevermind," you giggle. "Take it off.”

The group’s laughter is cut off at the arrival of Tess and then Paul. Tess comes up to the group, specifically standing between you and Joel, leaning her shoulder against his. Tommy and Maria exchange a look before taking a sip from their drinks.

“Looks like the party’s here,” she says with forced joviality.

Maria makes a sound of agreement, her eyes drifting over to Joel and then back to Tommy. Tess glances over at you, giving you a smile with no warmth and you wonder if Joel told her anything.

Does she know you kissed? That you? . . . No. He wouldn’t have told her that.

It makes you feel ashamed. It makes you feel guilty. And then it makes you feel impossibly vulnerable when Joel’s eyes dart to your face from over her head. Paul arrives seconds later to bring you over your soda and the group breaks apart, the moment gone.

///

After burgers, a mountain of soda and a pile of gifts it’s time to cut the cake. Sarah is already buzzing from all the sugar but when she sees the cake she is almost beside herself with delight.

It’s a basic sheet cake with Ronald McDonalds’s image holding a stack of colorful gifts. Six green and purple striped candles line the image. You know the cake is going to taste like wax, but there’s something nostalgic about the whole experience that makes you smile. Paul murmurs a similar observation in your ear and you nod, wincing at the heat of his breath on your ear.

Joel has a lighter in one hand as he motions for Sarah to sit beside him with the other. The rest of the group is gathering around, some standing, and some sitting. Jessie is watching the cake with a look of hunger. Daniel is slouched at the far end still eating his French fries.

"C'mon babygirl," Joel says as Sarah runs over to him. He lights the candles on the cake, chuckling as Sarah squeaks excitedly. She grins up at you from over the cake, her large eyes wide.

“Got your wish?” you ask playfully. Sarah’s face becomes focused and she nods.

“Yep.”

"Alright then, go on and make your wish," Joel tells her, holding the hair back from her face as it dips towards the candles. “Make it a good one.”

Sarah glances from you to her dad and then back at the flickering candles. You smile, wishing that your worries and dreams could be solved by blowing out six tiny flames.

She extinguishes the candles a very focused breath to the cheers of her family and friends and some nearby patrons who love a good singalong. Joel squeezes her tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple as she squirms in his arms from the attention.

"Smile Sarah!" Maria calls from the corner. She raises the compact digital camera to her eye line.

Sarah wraps her arms around Joel's neck and smushes her cheek up next to his. This makes him smile, that broad smile where his eyes disappear and his dimple pops out. Sarah does the same, her own dimple a mirror of her father's. The two of them smile up at the camera in Maria's hand and all you can feel is a debilitating love for them.

It's a deep abiding affection that makes your entire body feel like its glowing but from the inside. You have to look away because you can feel yourself getting emotional.

Then you hear your name being shouted and Sarah is holding out a hand to you.

"I want you in the picture!" she says, her face imploring you. You hesitate, almost feeling Tess' furious gaze on you, burning a hole through your head. You consider not doing anything or insisting you get a photo later. But Joel is twisting to face you, his brows raised.

“Go on,” Paul says tightly. “Be weird if you didn’t.”

With a small nod you move to take the seat next to Joel and Sarah, feeling awkward. You smile at the camera, wanting to get this over with.

But then Sarah shifts to her father's other knee and goes in the middle of you both. She urges you closer until she can get one tiny arm hooked around your neck, one arm hooked around her father's. Satisfied she looks up at Maria.

"Okay Auntie Maria," Sarah says with a broad smile. "You can take the picture.'"

///

Sarah doesn't understand when the three of you stopped existing together. She would never use those words but its how she feels.

Sarah remembers the coloring book you left her signed from toad, telling her to make the world more colorful. To Sarah that's what you do. You sail into the house with stories or cupcakes or hugs and singing and you make her world more colorful.

It used to be so warm and happy at her house because you would be there. Daddy used to smile more often too. She loves when it's the three of you like at the park.

At the park, before ice cream, she and a young boy had been playing on the slide. Sarah called out to you and Joel to watch her. Both sets of eyes had immediately drawn to her with you clapping and cheering.

"It's that your mummy and daddy?" the boy behind her asked.

Without hesitation Sarah had told him "yes", her tiny stomach flipping as she went down the slide, a mixture of excited thrill from the descent and of what she'd told the boy. Because it feels like you’re a family.

But it also feels like there have been less park days. Less nights on the couch watching a movie eating popcorn. Things feel good when you're around but you're not around as much.

But that's all going to change because Sarah made her wish and she knows that wishes come true because last year she wished for a mama. A mama who she could see and talk to and love.

And then there you were! You with your jellybeans and laughter and love and Sarah thanked the birthday gods for being so kind because you were so much better than she could ever have dreamed of.

So this is why she knows that her birthday wish will come true this year as well. As she holds you and her father by the neck smiling up into the camera Sarah knows that everything will be okay.

Because her wishes come true.

///

“I can’t believe how tiny children can eat so much,” you tell Maria when the waxy cake has been eaten and all the kids having stumbled into the play area, shrieking with delight after the grownups have wiped down their cake-covered faces. You’re all gathered around the table, helping Joel to tidy the mess.

Well, everyone but Maria. Maria is looking at the photos on her camera, smirking to herself as she holds it to Tommy.

“I don’t know if I can marry you Tommy, look how badly you photograph. Our wedding photos are gonna be shit.”

Tommy pulls her into an aggressive hug, kissing the side of her neck as she giggles. “Too late. You already said yes, so you’re stuck with me.”

You smile softly before you catch sight of Joel clearing paper plates at the other end of the table, his mouth in a small smirk as he looks at his baby brother. There’s affection in his dark eyes, even as he rolls them.

“Shit.”

You turn to see Daniel in the play area, his face screwed up in silent tears behind the glass. Tess gives a deep sigh through her nose and brushes past you into the area. She kneels beside her son, brushing the hair from his forehead.

Tess is a good mom. And despite how chilly she’s treated you today, you know that she’ll make a good stepmom to Sarah. You push past how that makes your stomach twist.

“Here’s all your decoration stuff,” Joel says, hefting the bag towards you and breaking your gaze from Tess and Daniel. You’re about to take it when Paul reaches out, gripping it and smiling over at Joel.

“I got it. I’ll go put it in the car." He smiles at you. "Then you ready to go baby?”

“In a few minutes,” you say, smiling weakly.

You don’t really want to leave, but you suppose the party is wrapping up.

“Guys, you gotta see this photo of Sarah, it’s so adorable,” Maria says, looking through the overly bright screen hosting the digital images. You and Joel crowd around her, looking over her shoulder. Tommy hangs back, a small smile on his face as he watches you all.

The photo Maria is referencing is the one of Sarah holding up the toad book you bought her. The one listing every species with photos, a CD rom and a poster she can hang on her wall. She’s screaming into the camera, so excited with her gift.

The next image is you, eyes shut in laughter as Sarah has thrown herself into your arms and you hug her tightly.

“Oh, go to the next one,” you urge with a cringe, desperate to see more Sarah and less of yourself. Tommy has wandered over now and the four of you look at the images

Maria acquiesces, flipping through the photos until she lands on the one of Joel and Sarah, cheeks smushed together and smiling up at the camera. Your favorite photo. You, Tommy and Maria let out a communal ‘awwww’ as Joel rolls his eyes.

“Next one,” he says, waving away the attention. You and Maria laugh as her hand rolls the toggle and then the laughing fades.

On the screen is the photograph of the three of you. The one you hadn’t initially wanted to take.

You’re almost shoulder to shoulder with Joel, Sarah’s tiny frame between you. She has each of your necks in the crooks of her skinny arms and all three of you are smiling up at the camera. You’ve never seen yourself in a photo with Joel and so the sight of it takes your breath away.

Your eyes are sparkling and your cheeks are flushed merrily as you grin. Joel’s smile is equally bright, his eyes disappearing when he does. Sarah however, is beaming between the two of you, looking like she’s on top of the world.

And it’s like you see it for the first time.

How the three of you look like a family. How naturally you fit together in this photo, like pieces of a puzzle being snapped together. How when you look at this image it’s like you’ve been a family this entire time.

And then Maria’s finger slips and the next photo is shown. One you didn’t know she’d taken. In this photo your eyes are on Joel as he looks at down at Sarah with an indulgent grin. Your mouth is in a soft smile as you look at him in the photo and it’s so fucking clear in your eyes.

Simultaneously your gazes drift to meet behind Maria’s head, your mouth parting slowly. Your heart jumps because you can see that Joel has seen it too, the obvious thing that you have been terrified to acknowledge.

That you love him.

And then Paul is back, coming up to the group to get you so you can leave. No one notices, even Tommy and Maria seem to have recognized the significance of this moment and have gone quiet.

Confused at the sobering tone, Paul looks from you to Joel gazing at each other and something crosses his face. He drops his light eyes to your hand when he goes to grip it, speaking loudly.

“You aren’t wearing the ring.”

///

If Joel could articulate this moment correctly, he would do so summarily: it feels like someone has reached into his chest, taken his still beating heart and slammed it viciously onto the ground, then stabbing pins into each chamber before setting the entire thing on fire.

The ring.

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what ring Paul is talking about. Your reaction is immediate. Your face drops and your eyes widen, shooting a meaningful look at Paul. In that look Joel can read exactly what you’re trying to communicate to Paul; I told you not here.

“Wait, you’re engaged?” Tess all but shrieks, a genuine smile breaking out over her face. “That’s amazing!”

You look so incredibly stunned by everything and all you do is nod, offering hushed words of thanks and smiling strangely. Like a puppet who’s face is all strings to be pulled and moved around.

“Congrats,” Tommy offers weakly, his eyes darting to Joel and then back to you. Paul has slung his arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. Your face has blanched, all the color drained from it.

“Yeah, we weren’t gonna mention it because of your wedding coming up, Mar, but I figure why not share? It’s a happy occasion after all.”

If Joel thought he was upset at the situation, it’s nothing compared to the look Maria is shooting at you right now. A monstrous, furious gaze that he thinks makes you wince.

Joel watches as you murmur something about saying goodbye to Sarah and his attention is back on his daughter, watching her laughing and climbing the play structure, waving to you as she swings down to greet you.

Friends. We're friends .

Joel can't stop the anger that's going through him. He can’t stop shifting from foot to foot as he stands there; arms crossed watching you enter into the play area with a splotchy face. He recognizes this as a hallmark of you trying not to cry.

Doesn’t matter though. You’re not his to console.

Sarah has seen you and she comes speeding towards you, looking concerned. She too has seen the red face and eyes. You must assure her its nothing because the smile is back on her face. Jessie wanders over, her voice silent behind the wall of glass.

His eyes are following your figure as you chase Sarah towards the slide of the play area. He can hear the muffled shriek of his daughter behind the glass before she speeds towards it.

Joel watches as Tess approaches you and Sarah. You and Sarah giggle about something Jessie is saying before Sarah is talking a mile a minute, gesturing to you about something in the play area. She takes your hand, wanting to lead you towards the colorful slides. Tess watches this quietly observing the two of you.

When you notice Tess out the corner of your eyes Joel is shocked to see you immediately sober. Tess is smiling at you, but warily. He watches you step back from Sarah, motioning to Tess to take your place as you head over to a waiting Tommy who has hung back, giving you sad eyes.

What the fuck was that?

"Hey Joel."

Joel glances over to see Paul approaching, his lanky frame strangely graceful. The way he moves makes Joel feel oversized and awkward. He’s the last fucking person Joel wants to see right now.

“Congrats,” Joel manages to rasp out with his jaw clenched.

“Thanks,” Paul says with conviction. “I think I actually have you to thank for it.”

Joel is struck by this. "Me? Why?"

Paul motions to you talking to Jessie near the ball pit. "She never wanted kids before."

"Really," Joel says in a tone so flat it could be road kill.

Paul doesn't seem to notice Joel's recalcitrance, or if he does he leans into it.

"Nah, never considered it. When we were dating and I brought it up she was adamant, always had a reason not to," Paul says with a short laugh. "Said she didn't want to add to an overpopulated planet. Or that she didn't want to pass on her bad genes. Funny girl."

Joel hates this entire conversation. He hates the way Paul stand and talks and acts like he's so fucking deep. He hates how he calls you a girl when you're obviously a woman.

"But after spending time Sarah? I think she's more open to the idea and that's thanks to you. And since she’s serious about kids, she was open to the idea of getting married quicker than she expected."

Joel's narrowed focus has moved from you back over to the man on his left. Paul sounds sincere in what he says, which somehow makes it worse.

"So I guess I just really wanted to thank you."

He's actually thanking Joel for making it easier to knock you up.

Images of your belly swollen with another man's child enter into Joel’s mind. Picturing you with your arms full, rocking a small infant while murmuring sweet soothing words. Images of you laughing in bed with Paul, wearing his ring. And then finally the visage of you, dressed in white, standing there and making promises of eternal fidelity to a man who isn’t Joel.

This all serves to send his entire neck and face burning with an anger he doesn’t expect. One he can’t control. But Paul isn’t stopping; in fact Joel’s silence seems to be prompting him to continue.

“You know, Joel, this wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for you.”

Joel's fist connects with Paul's jaw before he even has a second to comprehend what he's done.

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pablitogavii · 9 months

Text

Birthday Boy

It's Pablo's B-day very soon! Here's a little story for celebration of our golden boy ;)

Summary: You pretend to have forgot his birthday only to make the biggest surprise with his teammates.

You woke up first turning around to see Pablo sleeping peacefully next to you which made you smile knowing that today your boy was finally 19 years old.

You already spoke to his friends and family about the surprise later tonight telling them about your plan of pretending to have forgotten his birthday at first.

"Good morning hermosa" Pablo finally woke up smiling and leaning in to kiss your lips and you smiled running your fingers through his messy curls while kissing him back.

"Good morning cariño..I'm will have such a long day today" you sigh pretending to make it sound like you were unhappy about it which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"What do you mean? We are doing dinner right??" he asked and you acted like you had no idea what he was talking about.

"I will be so busy today, cariño..maybe tomorrow?" you said almost laughing at the way his face fell and he just nodded. Awe poor baby!

"I need to get ready for training.." he said shortly afterwards getting up and leaving without another word. He was certainly not happy about this but that will only make the surprise more fun!

"Happy birthday hermano!" Pedri was first to walk up to Pablo and hug him but he only gave him a weak smile really not in the mood after you forgot about his birthday. How could you forget!?

"Birthday boy is here chicos!!" Balde yelled when Pablo entered the dressing room and everyone congratulated him noticing that he was clearly in a bad mood. They of course knew why but played along.

"Que pasa hermano? You don't like your own birthday??" Pedri asked while Pablo was changing and he just shrugged not knowing if he should tell them that his own girlfriend forgot about his birthday.

"Nada. Let's train" was all Pablo said being interrupted by Ansu.

"He's acting like his girl forgot his birthday.." he said it was a joke of course knowing the truth and Pablo stopped running his face falling as he nodded.

"She did forget, alright!? You happy cabróns!?" he was angry now not talking to any of them for the rest of the training. The club of course made him a little cake and he faked a smile thanking them of course and letting them take a picture. Maybe when you see it online, you will do something?

Of course you saw the picture, and he looked so cute blowing his little candles but you didn't like or comment just yet. He is meant to come home soon, so you packed your bag with everything you needed for surprise including his present before leaving to meet the guys at the private restaurant you rented for the night.

Aurora and Javi were with you decorating the place when Pablo called her and she giggled telling everyone to be quiet.

"Hola hermanito?" she said listening to him tell her how you forgot about his birthday doing her best not to laugh and blow your cover. It was almost over and you couldn't wait for him to see his surprise.

"She forgot hermana! She didn't even see the picture form Barça account..what if she doesn't love me anymore?" he asked and you heard him since Aurora put him ons speaker. Your heart was breaking that he thought that but you knew he will soon be here with you.

"She's probably just busy hermano..don't overthink it" Aurora said smiling at you while winking and you waited for his response.

"Maybe..I'm gonna go take a nap..bye" he said but Aurora quickly called him back not wanting him to turn off his phone so that you couldn't reach him to make him come here.

"Mamá said she wanted to call you later so keep your ringer on!" Aurora quickly lied and he didn't suspect anything saying that's alright before hanging up.

"That was close one hermanita! What I do for you two lovebirds!" she said and you hugged her making sure she checks when his parents are arriving from Sevilla since she is giving them a ride here.

When they brought his parents, and all the teammates were here you were ready to call Pablo at last looking around to make sure everything is in order.

"Hola?" his voice was groggy signaling that he was indeed sleeping. He also sounded really sad..your poor boy!

"Hola, amor..um my car stopped. Could you give me a ride home please?" you say sending him the location near the restaurant but not exactly.

"Sure..." Pablo sighed before hanging up and you knew that since he wasn't using his usual nicknames for you that he was mad. You told everyone to hide and turn off the light before you left to meet him.

When he arrived, he was wearing simple grey sweatpants and old Barça t-shirt stepping out of his car confused to see you wearing a very formal red dress topped with heavy jewelry. Weren't you at work?

"Where is your car? Why are you dressed up?" he asked and you blush shrugging your shoulders wondering if he will figure out for himself.

"Let me guess, you were having dinner with your friends instead of me tonight..do you even know that it's my birthday!?" he was angry and you burst out in laughter catching him off guard.

"Why are you laughing!?" he said and you hugged him making his arms instinctively reach to hold you but he was still very confused.

"I'm dressed up for your birthday.." you say and he stepped back trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

"I'll explain everything cariño, but first..you should change" you say giving him the bag you had in your hands and he looked into it before looking back at you with big eyes.

"What is this?" he says looking at the fresh outfit you brought and you just told him to trust you taking him to the bathroom to change.

what Pablo is wearing

what you are wearing

"You look so much better now cariño..although I do love when you wear grey sweatpants" you smirk kissing his lips and he is still unsure holding your hand and following you to the completely dark restaurant.

"Is this a joke amor?" he asked thinking it's closed but at least he was using his nicknames again. You shake your head asking him to be patient while opening the door and suddenly the light turned on and everyone jumped surprising him.

"Díos mio! You didn't forget.." he said with tearful eyes and you smiled moving towards him and snaking your arms around his neck before kissing his softly.

"Of course I didn't forget cariño..I just needed some time to put everything together" you say and he kissed you again hugging you tightly before finally realizing that his parents are there too. He was so sad when they said they needed to stay in Sevilla for his Birthday but you made it possible.

"But..how? You said you couldn't come?" he asked walking to his parents and they both hugged him kissing his head and wishing him a happy birthday.

"Your girl wanted to make it a surprise and we listened" his father said winking at you and you smiled seeing how happy Pablo was right now. He doesn't get to spent a lot of time with family so it means everything when they come for his birthday.

"And all of you cabróns knew!?" he asked walking to his teammates who raised their hands in surrender.

"Who do you think brought the fireworks!?" Pedri smirked giving you a signal and Pablo looked back still very much confused.

"Fireworks?" he asked and you chuckled nodding your head and taking his hand to bring him outside as the fireworks started. You leaned on his shoulder and he smiled kissing your head while you all watched the fireworks. The very last one wrote "HAPPY B-DAY PABLO!" and he pointed looking at it in awe.

"Please tell me someone got a picture of that!" he said and you chuckled.

"Don't you worry hermano!" Aurora said holding her camera and he smiled nodding his head and pulling you into another hug.

"This is truly special amor..thank you so much" he said while pulling you in and kissing your lips lovingly and you smiled.

"I still haven't given you a gift Pablito." you say and he was shocked that there was anything more..he couldn't imagine anything more that all of this.

"There is more?" he says and you chuckle nodding your head and walking inside to bring the bag. You gave it to him and while he opened it Aurora made sure to catch his reaction in a video.

He took out a custom made Barça jersey which on the back had Pablo+Y/n making his smile grow big. He looked at you before walking closer and kissing your lips.

"I know how much you love Barça amor..and I know it's the club of your dreams and this way you can have us both in one place" you say and he giggled nodding his head and kissing your lips while everyone applauded.

"Let me tell you a secret princesa...I love you more than Barça" he whispered into your ear and you blushed as he raising you up in his arms while everyone cheered around you.

"Happy birthday cariño.." you smile when he finally put you down and he kissed your forehead.

"Gracias princesita! Let's celebrate everyone!" he said kissing you as the music started playing and everyone enjoyed the special night with him.

#pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #gavira #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavi x reader

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httpswritings · 5 months

Text

We don't have to wait all night. - Katie McCabe & Hayley Raso.

Additional info: inspired in The Veronica's song “In My Blood”. You may want to check it out before reading.

Warnings: suggestive tone, not smut.

Summary: Katie and Hayley meet in Hayley's and Caitlin's hotel room.

Hayley had just gotten out of the shower when she heard a few knocks on the door. She only had a towel covering her body. Her messy, wet hair falling onto her shoulders, dropping some droplets on the floor.

“Caitlin, did you forget your key?”, Hayley shouted.

Two more knocks.

“Who is it?”, she asked.

Nobody replied, but the knocks kept coming in.

Stressed-out, she opened the door in a not too friendly way.

“Dear lord, WHO is— Oh, hello...Katie? Can I help you?”

But Katie did not answer instantly. Instead, she glanced at Hayley, from the top to the bottom, slightly aroused.

“Oh, yeah. I'm looking for Caitlin. She told me that she was staying in this room. Room 43, is it wrong?”

“No, no it's not. Come in if you want!”

As Katie entered the room, Hayley told her that Caitlin hadn't come yet to the hotel after the match as she had to stay to do some work related stuff, not specifying anything else more.

“You can wait for her here. I don't think she's gonna take long.”

“Better to wait here than in the lobby, but only if you're comfortable with the idea.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

Katie kept silent but glanced again all over Hayley's figure and then smiled at her.

Understanding what Katie was referring to, Hayley said, “Oh, yeah, don't worry. I'll get changed in the bathroom. Take a sit on the be—, on the floor, or do whatever you want.”

“Are you sure you're okay with me staying here? You seem a bit nervous.”

“No! I mean, ye—, I MEAN, I'm not nervous. I find it funny. Not even one hour ago, we were on each other's throats during the match.”

Katie chuckled over Hayley's comment.

“Yeah, it's funny if you think so. I put you to work today.”

“You what? I put you to work. Don't get confused, McCabe.”

“That's not what the streets are saying. They all agree with me beating your ass.”

This should've made Hayley angry, it somewhat did, but she was also enjoying this conversation to the point that she had forgotten that only one medium-size towel was covering her body.

“Oh, so you wanna talk about what people are saying about you? Maybe you won't like everyone's opinions.”

Katie had a few ideas in her mind about what Hayley referring too. The Australian woman was right, Katie was not in the mood to talk about the gossip people have been tying her name to. Instead she tried to changed a little bit the direction of the conversation.

“What about you? What opinion do you have about me?"

The Irishwoman couldn't properly focus on the conversation. She had that one player, the one who had been fighting with during the match, almost naked in front of her, with a light brown towel around her body. Her hair falling down her shoulders in a messy way, some droplets falling onto Hayley's soft skin, and the essence of shampoo and body lotion impregnating the room.

“I've heard you are into Aussies.” Hayley said with a smirk, referring to Katie being linked to Caitlin Foord.

“Anything else?”

“You seem the type of person who's really sweet off the pitch. A little bit timid I'd say, in some occasions only. You probably hate feeling vulnerable, so you are very selective with whom you let to know your most authentic self. Very family oriented too. Am I wrong?”

“No. I'm actually impressed.", She didn't like Hayley almost perfectly spotting her personality, did she?

“Good. My turn. What do you think about me?”

“I haven't gotten a good first impression from you.” Katie lied. She felt the need to. Hayley was getting too close to see her soft side. She was right, Katie was too protective over people seeing her vulnerability.

Was she, Katie Alison McCabe, the one who usually intimidates people, the one who was feeling intimidated by Hayley Raso?

“I haven't met a lot of Irish people. Are they all these arrogant like you?"

“Hey! Watch your mouth.“ The Irishwoman said as she clenched her jaw, feeling a bit uneasy.

Katie felt such a pride from Ireland and from what it took to represent her country, that Hayley's comment didn't sit well with her.

“I'm sorry. It was not my intention to insult your people. I wanted to tease you, not to harm your identity as an Irish.", said Hayley sincerely, worried about having pushed the conversation too far.

Katie found herself smiling as a way of accepting Hayley's apology but immediately stopped as she felt a tingling sensation in her abdomen.

“Maybe I should get into the bathroom to get changed. You've had enough of me for today.” As Hayley headed to the bathroom door, Katie stood up.

“No! I mean, don't. I get it was a misunderstanding, and you didn't mean it. It was a good tease, tho. If that's what you wanted, you did succeed with it.”

The Irishwoman was going through such an internal conflict. Her rational mind was warning her about the consequences of what this conversation could lead to. But on the other hand, her irrational mind, the one who was being tricked by the lustful atmosphere and Hayley's presence, was aiming her to get lost in Hayley's teasing.

She bit her lower lip and took two steps towards Hayley, not too far away, not too close to her.

The Australian woman was intoxicated by Katie's strong gaze.

For the first time in a really long time, she felt unaware of what to do, so she kept in silence.

“So?”

“So, what?”

Katie noticed she had a little bit more of control over the situation, and she was starting to enjoy every second of it. It was her opportunity to tease Hayley back, and she was not going to waste the occasion to push it until the very end. No matter how it turned out.

“We, the Irish, are quite friendly as long as we feel comfortable with the other person."

Katie took another step forward.

“I know. I just told you I didn't mean t—"

“Shhh. Do you really know?”

Another step forward.

“Because maybe I'll have to be the one who shows you exactly how we truly are.”

Hayley's cheeks were started to have a reddish tone, so prominent as a contrast to her white skin.

“How— How are you— are you going to show me that?”

“Well. You've seen me on the pitch. Why don—”

“Caitlin has seen you too, and you were going to see her after the game. That's why you're here.” Hayley said in a sharper tone, cutting the lustful atmosphere off.

“Maybe we do have something going on. Maybe something not too serious. Maybe that won't make you deny my offer.”

“Maybe I do. I'm no one's sloppy seconds.”

“I know. I don't want you to feel as the second option.” Katie took a final step forward and took Hayley's right hand with her left hand, quickly squeezing it.

“Don't feel obliged to. Take your time to think about it. You can call me anytime, beautiful.”

As Katie headed to the door, it was now Hayley's turn to stop her.

As she grabbed her left arm, she asked her to stay.

“I'm curious about you. I've heard that you said you enjoyed our match being a really physical one.”

“I did. Being physical on the pitch is one of my strengths as a player. I thought it was well-known”, Katie dramatically said, as she gained a cute chuckle from the Australian woman.

“Don't worry. It is well-known.” said Hayley as she rolled her eyes.

“You said— You said it was always a battle to play against me. Did you enjoy fighting against me as much as I did enjoy being physical with you?”

“You can tell I did. Not my favourite way of being physical, but I did have a great time.”

Katie's eyes opened widely as she held a shocked expression for a few seconds. She was not expecting that kind of answer from a Hayley Raso that was slightly embarrassed in front of her not even ten minutes ago.

“Did I scare you, sweetheart?”

“No.”

“You seem—”

“No. I'm fine. Just curious about you too. Tell me which way you enjoy being physical the most.”

“I don't have enough time to properly show you that. Caitlin's gonna arrive any time soon. Does she even know you're here waiting for her?”

“No.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Tell me what do you want, Katie, and with whom.”

As Katie sighed, the door slowly opened, so she grabbed Hayley into the bathroom and locked the door”

“Rass, I'm here! Hayley?"

“Yeah, Cait, I'm taking a shower. Well, I'm about to.” Hayley shouted from the bathroom as she turned on the tap.

“Okay.”

As the sound of the water falling down in the shower, Katie whispered, “She's not leaving?”

“Why the fuck would she leave, Katie? This is her room too. Now tell me why have you locked us in the bathroom?”

They both tried to not be heard by Caitlin, who was laying down on her bed scrolling through her phone.

“What's the plan?”

“You're asking me? You are the one who has locked us in the bathroom, with me being almost naked and you being this near me."

The water kept falling down the tap, camouflaging Katie and Hayley's voices.

“Look, we need to get out of here. You can message Caitlin and tell her to meet you in your hotel room, or in any other place. I can't take a shower for too long, or she will eventually get worried.”

“I haven't answered your question.”

“Katie, this is not the right ti—”

“Shh.” the Irishwoman said as she placed one finger on Hayley's lips.

“I have a thing going on with Caitlin. Nothing too serious. Kind of a fling as we both have just gotten out of a relationship. But it's not easy to have you like this in front of me.” she said as she let her head fall on Hayley's right shoulder. “It's not easy to smell your skin, to sense how soft it is.”

She slightly moved her head, making Hayley shiver.

“I want you to show me your favourite way to being physical, as you said earlier. Not here, not like this, because as you've said, we don't have enough time. I'm not implying to wait until nighttime, because we don't have to, but know that I also have the urge to show you my way of doing things. Things I want you to enjoy without being in a rush. Slowly but steady.”

As Hayley was at a loss of words, Katie continued.

“Don't feel pressured to accept my offer. Have in mind I don't have anything serious with Caitlin nor with anyone else. I'm not prepared yet. As you've said before, I don't like feeling vulnerable in front of people I don't consider close to me, so—”

“But, you're being vulnerable now while telling me this.”

“I know. And it's not easy. But it's sincere. I have no idea of how we are going to get out of here because even if Caitlin and I are nothing serious, I don't want to put you through this situation. But know that I'll be more than happy if today, tomorrow or whenever you feel ready, we spend some time enjoying each other's company.”

“Hayley? I need to use the bathroom.”

Both women inside the bathroom looked at each other with a worried expression.

“The door it's locked Cait. I'm sorry. Wait until I'm done.”

As she heard Caitlin swear, she pleaded Katie, “God, Katie, message her anything. She needs to get out of this room so you can leave.”

As Katie agreed to do so, she looked for her phone.

“What?”

“My phone's out there. On the bed.”

“WHA—”

“Shh.”

As Katie rushed to cover Hayley's mouth, Caitlin asked confused, “You okay, Rass?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Are you always this noisy?”

“Katie, not the time for this kind of jokes.”

“I'm not joki—”

“Rass, I'm going to Sam's room to use her bathroom. Take your time, girl. Let's see if when I come back you're still playing The Little Mermaid.”

As they heard Caitlin getting out of the room, Katie rushed to grab her phone and left, not before leaving a soft caress on Hayley's cheek, “Keep me updated, beautiful mermaid. You know my Instagram.”

Surprisingly, Katie succeeded into getting out of the hotel without being caught by any Australian members.

As she was on her way to her hotel, she received a few messages from Hayley.

hayleyraso: It wasn't easy for me either to have you so damn near me.

hayleyraso: Let me know if you have any ideas for our meeting...today

Katie smiled.

katie_mccabe11: I'll book a room in a hotel where there won't be any football players staying. Not an easy task, though.

hayleyraso: okay, pretty girl

katie_mccabe11: see you later 🧜‍♀️🫧🛁

#katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #hayley raso #hayley raso x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

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wososcripts · 4 months

Text

I've Been Getting Lost in Translation (Part Two)

(these kits are god awful but you didn't hear that from me)

stina blackstenius x reader; part one can be found here

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

A/N: Here's part two finally! I hope it's worth the wait for you all lol, make sure you read the first part as well as that author's note for clarity! As usual, nothing I write is intended to speculate or infringe upon player's personal lives, it's all 100% fiction and done in good fun.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings⚠️: very very slight mentions of anxiety and self-harm behaviors, but it really isn't featured here more than a passing mention

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You could feel Stina's eyes on you as you came down the stairs and joined the group in getting ready to go, you felt them on you in the car, and once you got to the skating rink. She never seemed to not be looking at you, sending worried little glances your way that you just couldn't interact with right now if you wanted to keep it together.

"Here are Linnéa's extra skates." Stina's mom held out a pair of ice skates for you to grab. "I'm not sure they'll fit, but Stina said you were around the same size as her sister… otherwise you can rent a pair here."

She gave you a warm smile and left you to try them on, already lacing up her own and taking off on the ice.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cold with a thick layer of snow on the ground from a couple of days ago. And the rink was amazing. It was well maintained, but still had the feeling of a pond you'd have skated on as a child.

Stina's sister came to sit down next to you, explaining some of the quirks with the skates. You had to pull the laces hard to get them to fit in the clasps at the top before you could tie them, she showed you, yanking on your ankle a little roughly for your liking.

"Linnéa, be careful with her foot!" You heard Stina call from the ice.

Linnéa waved her off, turning to you.

"Does it hurt?"

You shook your head.

"That ankle is just a bit sensitive. I broke it in June."

"Well the laces being tight will make sure that doesn't happen again," she laughed, then glanced to make sure Stina wasn't looking at you two and said something lowly to you. "How is she doing in London? I mean she says everything is going well, but it's hard to know when we're not there to see her."

You smiled, genuinely for the first time in hours.

"She's doing great. Everyone loves her, she's been playing fantastic this season, she gets along well with the coach and the players. I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about."

"It's good that she has you and Amanda there. She seems reserved but without a few good people around her I know she gets lonely."

"What are you two slow pokes waiting for?" Stina's father skated by, gesturing for you to come on.

Linnéa followed him, starting a conversation with him in Swedish you could hardly grasp onto. How this family managed to speak so quickly, you were lost on.

You joined the rest of them on the ice, trying to ignore your poor mood from earlier. Moping around was no way to make a first impression. So you tried to suck it up and let the joy of the moment overtake you. You hadn't skated in years, having played in Italy for a bit before moving to London. There never seemed to be enough time, or good rinks close by. And when you were back in Germany you mostly wanted to see your family and Laura.

You ended up skating with Stina’s nephew, a boy around seven. He was already impressively steady on his skates, something you would not have been able to say at his age. But still, he held your hand and talked your ear off in Swedish you only partially understood.

"Did you come with aunt Stina?" He asked, to which you nodded.

"We play for the same football team in England." You explained in your slow Swedish.

"Did you come here on a plane?" You nodded again, smiling.

"We flew here yesterday, from London."

The boy considered you for a moment.

"You speak funny," he proclaimed, letting go of your hand, "watch what I can do!"

And with that he skated in front of you, circling around you playfully as you stood still. You grinned at him, giving a round of applause when he was done.

“Hey,” you heard Stina come up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as to not startle you.

You gave her a smile which she softly returned.

“What are you two up to?”

“He’s showing me his incredible skating skills,” You replied.

Stina’s nephew nodded and twirled around again, clearly looking for more praise.

Stina cheered him on, catching one of his hands and spinning him once more.

“Very impressive,” she praised, “Unfortunately we’ve got to go eat some lunch. It’s getting dark out.”

You looked up at the sky, having not realized that she was right, the sun was setting already. You checked your phone and saw it was barely one pm.

Stina’s nephew nodded and shot forward ahead of you two, rushing back to where his parents were.

“How are you doing?” Stina asked.

You could tell she was still unsettled by what had happened earlier in the bathroom by how careful she was with you, how she treated each interaction tentatively. You felt badly for making her worry, for turning this visit with her family into yet another stressful situation rather than the relaxing break you both needed.

“I’m doing all right.” You gave the hand on your shoulder a squeeze and started to skate in the direction of the exit, a little further away from her than you would normally.

You felt the distance seemingly in every stride you took, agonizing over your choice to move further from her. You were upset by the lack of any physical affection, and yet here you were removing even the chance that she might initiate it. It was self sabotage, you knew. Yet it was still difficult not to indulge in it. Whether she felt the distance as much as you did, you couldn’t know.

“Why does Aunt Stina’s friend speak so funny?” You heard Stina’s nephew ask his mother, to which you couldn’t help but chuckle as she scolded him lightly.

“She’s still learning Swedish, baby, she’s from Germany.”

“You’re from Germany?” The boy asked you once you were in front of him, skates in hand. He said it as if it were some far away land, not in the same continent.

You nodded and ruffled his hair a bit, giving him a smile. You sat down on the bench, unlacing your skates and indulging the boy as he asked you several questions about Germany and what it was like there. You noticed Stina had a firm watch on you as you started to take your left skate off—the one that Linnéa had tugged on. It was aching a bit, that was true. But you simply massaged it for a moment and stood up like you couldn't feel a thing.

“Thanks again for lending me the skates,” You said to Stina’s mother, giving them back carefully.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The eight of you decided to eat at a small restaurant not far from the rink. Sunset was already in full force, vibrant orange and pink staining the sky around you.

Stina had borrowed her sister's car that morning, preferring not to be squished in the back seat all day. The drive over gave you a bit of privacy, which you spent in relative quiet, Stina's playlist playing softly through the car speakers. Her hand was on your thigh innocently, and every once in a while she glanced over. Maybe she expected you to say something. But you knew if you started now, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You were thankful for your sturdy sneakers as you stepped out of the car, a twinge in your ankle rippling up your leg. It was more sore than you would've expected, but nothing you were overly worried about. The doctor had warned you that some days might give you more trouble than others, and that was normal. You would just have to take care to ice it this evening before you went to bed.

And by the looks of it, Stina would be making sure you did anyway.

She was robbed of her chance to ask if it was bothering you by her nephew, who seemed to have taken a real liking to you. He came barreling at you, arms open for you to lift him up. You weren't all that tall, and he certainly had inherited his family's height, so lifting him was a bit complicated. Eventually the two of you decided on a piggy back after some awkward maneuvering.

"He likes you," Stina's brother commented, tickling his son lightly. "He's normally quite reserved around new adults."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart soar. This, this was what you wanted from the trip. You wanted Stina's family to love you, for her not to have to worry about you fitting in or being accepted.

"She's going to sit next to me!" The boy announced once the waiter had shown you to your booth.

"Do I need to be worried?" Stina joked, to which her nephew stuck out his tongue.

She returned the favor playfully.

"No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."

The booth wasn't all that big, which was how you explained Stina's closeness. Most of your right side was pressed right up against hers, something you initially tried to rectify, only to receive a strange look from her. You cursed yourself for how unsure you were being. You'd spent months like this before the two of you had started dating and it nearly drove you (and your teammates) crazy.

You let Stina order for you since she had been here before and she knew what you liked. The tiredness was beginning to hit you. It was dark outside now, and between skating for a few hours, entertaining a seven year old, and worrying over your relationship, you'd had quite the day. Thankfully you had ibuprofen in your bag in case of one of your headaches.

Whatever Stina had ordered you looked delicious when it came out. You dug in, realizing then how hungry you were. Usually you had a snack in between breakfast and lunch particularly on training days.

You were surprised to feel a hand on your knee a little while later. You were listening to a story her nephew was intently explaining to you as he colored in one of the books his mother brought for him, and suddenly it was there. It was something so completely normal you couldn't believe how much it shocked you. If anything, that was proof of how much you had gotten in your own head. Back home it would be impossible to imagine sitting next to Stina without her hand resting lightly on you somewhere. It helped ground her, she said.

But now, your thoughts were racing with every move she made. Stina's fingers drummed absentmindedly on your thigh, the rhythm of them distracting you slightly from her nephew. She didn't usually tap unless she was feeling fidgety, which meant she was anxious. Was Stina feeling something similar to what you were? Was it out of anxiety that she was keeping things secret? The idea of your relationship inspiring such emotions in your girlfriend made the lump in your throat that much bigger. Maybe she was picking up on your mood. Stina had always been very perceptive (because she spent so much time quietly watching, you often teased) and seemed to pick up on your moods without issue. But you’d been trying to hide this.

You caught her eye and sent her a quick smile. A piece of hair had fallen into her eyes and you wanted desperately to push it behind her ear as you normally would. But the gesture seemed too intimate now. It was as if you were in a glass cage, every move observed with the chance of exposing your feelings. But what was the problem in that, you asked yourself. You loved Stina, openly. Why were you letting this affect you so much?

Stina's sister declared that she wanted to do a bit of shopping after lunch, which the rest of the group was perfectly amicable to. It wasn’t all that late, and you’d get a chance to see the Christmas market all lit up. Stina's nephew certainly hadn't taken much convincing once Linnéa mentioned stopping at the toy store to look at something.

"Am I your favorite now?" Linnéa asked him, looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

"Yes!" The boy cried, smiling wide.

"You can't buy true connection, Linnéa," you teased, still helping to color.

"Can't buy connection." The boy repeated wisely. "I still like Stina's friend too."

You smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, suggesting quietly in his ear that you move to another page and make a drawing for Stina.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linnéa joined you and Stina in the car on the way back to their parent’s house, adding to the tension that had been building since the eight of you had gone shopping. Stina had stuck close to your side, and you’d done your best to act normally while keeping some distance. You needed to sort your head out, and being close to her wasn’t helping. Thankfully her nephew provided a good excuse to be tugged in all sorts of directions—he had decided you were his favorite once more, leaving Linnéa to hang behind with her siblings.

Once you had reached the Christmas market, after a short detour in the toy store where you had agreed to get matching dragon plushies for you and the young boy, each of you wandered off on your own. You, Stina’s brother, and her nephew headed first for the big tree that had been decorated in the square while the rest went to get something hot to drink. You had managed to sneak off under the guise of having to find the toilet, Stina’s brother covering for you if you needed. You wanted to get a small gift for Stina, something in addition to what you’d already purchased. Most of it was back in London since bringing it all on the plane was a hassle.

You’d found a perfect gift at a small stall tucked away near the edge of the market where an older woman was selling vintage jewelry. You picked through it slowly at first, not sure you would find anything. Most of it was too gaudy for Stina, and too impractical. But then you found a simple pendant with two stones in the middle—an amethyst and an opal, each of your birth stones, set in a complex circular pattern that reminded you a bit of some of the celtic designs Katie had shown you. You had purchased it immediately, no matter that it was overpriced.

Now you were sat listening to Linnéa’s music quietly as the three of you drove, trying not to nod off. You were unsuccessful, because the next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by Linnéa’s door falling shut. You heard Stina chuckle next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, likely amused by how suddenly you had shot up. You chuckled along with her and patted her hand, putting your coat back on to brave the cold once more.

“Is your ankle bothering you?” Stina asked you quietly as you all began to walk back to the house for dinner preparations.

You thought that you had been hiding the slight limp in your walk well, certainly nobody else had noticed, but nothing escaped your girlfriend apparently.

“Only a bit. I’ll ice it later and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You should’ve said something if it was hurting, I told Linnea to be careful—” she was beginning to ramble, but you cut her off.

“Stina, it’s fine. I said I’m fine. I know what I can and cannot handle.”

It was a lie, and the both of you knew it. You were a stubborn bastard. Stina had been with you through your recovery, through every incident where you pushed yourself too hard only to have to face the consequences. She’d found you on the kitchen floor, comforted you after a physio session, seen you train with the team for the first time again. It was insulting to allege she didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, already feeling bad for snapping at her. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know what was wrong and you were what? Punishing her?

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Do you know how horrible that was? To see you in that much pain?” Stina’s eyes were glossy with just the memory.

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You and Stina didn’t talk much about your injury and recovery. It was still too fresh, barely more than a couple months old. The crack of your ankle, the blood, her tears, her gentle shaking hands, it was all still at the front of your mind.

You were saved from having to formulate a response by Stina’s mother calling her to the kitchen. She left you, only looking back once to give you a slight smile, showing that the two of you were okay. But you knew the time to confront what was going on needed to come quickly.

You sat with Stina’s brother on the sofa and watched some Swedish Christmas program mindlessly. Mostly you were thinking about how to go about talking to Stina later. “Directness is key”, Laura's voice reminded you. You just had to say it, without blaming anyone. Just focus on yourself, your feelings.

It wasn't clear how long you sat there quietly before dozing off again, but Stina’s nephew was the one to wake you for dinner, doing so by climbing into your lap.

"It's dinner time." He said, poking at your shoulder.

You forced your eyes open, giving him a drowsy smile.

“Okay, Prinzi” you replied, picking him up off your lap so you could stand. He managed to hang on to your side though, and you ended up lifting him onto your hip anyway.

Fuck, you cursed silently as you noticed your ankle was even more tender than when you had fallen asleep. You’d have to check for bruising later and keep off it for the rest of the night. But still, you carried Stina’s nephew to the table with ease, setting him in his seat next to his mother who shot you a sheepish smile.

“Tired, aren’t you?” You heard a voice behind you, and then a gentle hand at your back.

It was Stina, who smelled of something sweet in the kitchen. You wanted to lean back into her and not move for the rest of the night. Instead you just nodded.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You’ve been playing babysitter all day, that might be part of it.” She smiled.

You nodded in agreement, a smile on your face as well.

"You're so good with him," she whispered into your ear, "it's adorable."

You had caught her taking pictures of you with her nephew a couple times throughout the day, and now, as you briefly as her phone light up with notification, it seemed she had set one of them as her lockscreen.

"I try my best. He's a good kid."

"Well, he's in good hands."

Dinner was delicious, but relatively uneventful. After an entire day together everyone was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the food. Stina’s nephew joked with you a couple times, still wanting all of your attention, but even he seemed to be winding down for the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the table was cleared and the dishes had been washed (a task delegated to Stina’s brother this time), the group splintered off. Linnéa was going out to meet with a few friends, Stina’s brother and his family had to go home before it got too late, and Stina’s parents had settled in the living room. The two of you were welcome to join, they offered, for a nightcap. But it was clear that maybe you and Stina needed some alone time.

So you bid everyone good night, thanking them for a wonderful day, and giving Stina’s nephew a big hug goodbye (even though you would be seeing him the next day). You tried to prepare for what you knew was a difficult discussion coming your way. In and out, you tried to remind yourself.

“Go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute,” Stina told you when you reached the bedroom door.

You nodded, thankful for the extra minute to think. The room was quiet around you. You felt the quilt beneath your hands, taking another deep breath. You didn’t need to overthink this. It was simple. And Stina loved you, you reminded yourself.

There was a knock at the door, after which Stina slowly opened it and slipped inside. She had a bag of ice in her hands, presumably for your ankle. Already you felt tears spring to your eyes.

“Here, for your foot.”

She lifted your leg, grabbing a chair for you to prop it up on, and pressed the ice to it.

“So,” Stina paused, still standing before you, “What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could say anything. “And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell it isn’t. And I want to know, I want you to tell me, whatever it is.”

You chuckled internally at the similarity to Laura’s demand earlier. Stina knew you too well for you to hide from her either. That made your heart ache a little bit.

Your lack of response seemed to signal to Stina that you needed more convincing because she knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in hers.

“What were you doing in the bathroom earlier? Why did you look so upset? All day, I can see you trying to hide it, but I know you’re hiding something. It hurts me too, to see you like that. It’s like a thorn in my ribs.”

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard on your cheek until you could feel blood in your mouth. It rushed onto your tongue, the metallic taste distracting you from the urge to cry. Stina had caught your gaze, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Do your parents know we’re together?” Your voice held steady as you asked.

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Stina let out an airy chuckle, looking relieved. You brought your gaze to the floor, eyes wetting rapidly, which Stina quickly noticed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” She brought a hand up to your face, brushing the hair away from it. She sat next to you, moving up from where she was kneeling, and pulled you into her. “Look at me.” She put a finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to hers. The sight of your eyes nearly broke her heart. She hadn’t seen your face crumple in on itself like this since you were injured. The idea that something she had done could have caused you pain like that made her feel indescribably awful.

“Of course they know, of course they do.”

You let out a sigh of relief, putting your head in your hands. You felt a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing the skin there tenderly.

“Then why have you been so…distant all day? And yesterday? This morning at breakfast, I couldn’t even hold your hand. It seemed like you didn’t want your family to see us together. I thought maybe you… I don’t know, that you were unsure of us, or afraid, or—”

“That’s not it, I promise,” she said, wiping a tear away that had fallen from your eye. Fuck, you hated crying this much. “It’s just odd for me to be affectionate in front of my parents. They never were very touchy with each other in front of us, so it just feels like some unspoken rule. And then when my brother married his wife, they were the same way. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll try—”

You shook your head. You could tell Stina was upset too now, and you didn't want that. That wasn't the point of this. Tears continued to stream from your eyes, and you continued to swipe harshly at them.

“No, no. It’s all right. I don’t need you to be affectionate in front of them, I understand. It just seemed strange when I didn’t know the reason. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Stina seemed at a loss for a moment, truly shocked. She pulled you into a kiss, pressing her lips firmly against yours once, twice, three times before pulling back.

“You’re in this house too. And we’re a team: you don’t just have to do things the way we do. I’m supposed to meet you in the middle, okay? We’re in a relationship—if something hurts you, or is important to you, I want to know.”

You nodded, squeezing her hand as a small thanks. The taste of blood trickled through your mouth, reminding you of the wound. You did your best to swallow it down.

“Come on, let’s get you into something more comfortable,” Stina said, helping you up.

She opened the dresser, looking for some of the pants you had brought. When she turned around, in her hands were a pair of grey sweats and one of her long sleeve Swedish national team shirts.

“Sit,” she requested, pointing at the bed.

You followed, sitting and allowing her to help you undress. It was totally non-sexual, Stina was wholly concerned in caring for you. Once you were dressed in the casual clothes she had picked out, Stina returned to your side, your ankle in her lap as she massaged the skin gently.

“Was that what made you think I hadn’t told them?”

“It seems silly… but I also overheard them talking to your aunt in the kitchen last night.” You took a breath, trying to banish the tears for good. “I know my Swedish isn’t that good, but I was doing my best to keep up, and they kept referring to me as your friend, your friend, Stina’s friend.”

Stina looked at you, confused.

“They did? What did they say?”

You did your best to repeat the word, cringing at your own pronunciation.

“Väninna?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Who told you that means friend?”

“Amanda.” you replied, “She said it was like a female friend.”

Stina shook her head, laughing.

“What?” You asked, a bit indignant.

“It does mean that. But it also means girlfriend. I don’t think Amanda thought you’d ever run into the word. It’s a bit old fashioned.” Stina explained.

“Oh…” you said, feeling very stupid, and very relieved.

“Come here,” Stina said, leaning back against the headrest and gesturing for you to settle against her. She grabbed the bag of ice on your foot and shifted it to lie comfortably again. “I’m sorry you had to go through the day thinking I’d invited you here under friendly pretenses.”

You could tell she was making fun of you, just a little, but that there was sincerity in her voice too. One of her hands crept under your shirt, resting comfortingly on your stomach.

“I hope you don’t treat all your friends like you did yesterday morning.” You replied, snuggling closer to her. For the first time in days your head wasn’t full of doubts, and you could relax wholly. You just wanted to enjoy her warmth around you. You had faith that tomorrow would be great, that you could finally enjoy your time here the way you were meant to.

She chuckled, hugging you closer to her and pressing a kiss to your upward-turned lips.

“No, definitely not. I usually have better decision making skills around most people.”

“I guess I’m just special then, huh?”

#hope you all enjoy !#and happy new years eve-ish #arsenal x reader #stina blackstenius #stina blackstenius x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #laura freigang #stina blackstenius imagine #my writing

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ameenvie · 4 months

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Last Christmas - Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

"Now I know what a fool I've been, but if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again"

@emeraldsandelderberries asked: jaime x reader christmas request :) maybe a second chance romance a la “last christmas” by wham! ? Word count: 4.3k Warnings: none really! I guess anxiety and panic attacks if you squint, but not really Tags: fluff, second chance, christmas, drama, hurt/comfort A/N: This request was soooooooo sweet!!! AH I LOVED IT, I'm so sorry it's this late! 😭 IT might be a bit more dramatic/moody than you've wanted but I really hope you like it! ❤❤

Christmastime in London was always special to you. You loved how the storefronts all dressed up into colourful decorations and cheerful lights, how the smell of warm cookies filled the air as you passed your favourite bakery on your way to work. Excitement and restlessness filled people’s hearts as they were waiting for a little break at the end of the year, a time of reflection and hope. And honestly you could’ve used a fresh start.

Work was hectic in the office before at the end of the year, but you always pushed through by thinking of the holidays approaching faster day by day. The last weeks before Christmas were all about secret Santas and Christmas gatherings at the office as well.

You were having lunch in the small kitchen at work when your phone lit up with your best friend’s name. She usually doesn’t call, so you answered suspiciously.

“I have a huge favour to ask” she said quickly without even saying hello. You put your face into your palm as you braced yourself for what was about to come and even like that you were shocked at her next words. “I need you to come to the company Christmas Party with me.”

“You what?” you asked, trying to conceal the sudden anger in your voice that was bubbling up inside you. It wasn’t like you to get angry easily, especially not on her, but this time it came so out of the blue. Why would she ask that?

“I know babes, I’m so sorry I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t life or death!”

“How can a Christmas party be life or death?” you asked cynically, drumming your fingers on the table next to your lunch. You’ve lost all your appetite.

“I will die if you won’t come with me, that’s how” she joked, trying to lighten your mood.

“You’re so dramatic” you chuckled, but you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Go on.”

“Look, I don’t want to spend all my evening alone with my coworkers and their families and my rich boss, and insufferable football players!” she started. “You know this is not like a few-drinks-in-the-office kind of party, it’s full bling in a fancy hotel and shitton of food and booze!” you could basically see her waving her hand around while talking. “I thought just the two of us could hang out, get hammered and judge others. What do you say?” You rolled your eyes. She knew this was a compelling offer, but not compelling enough. Not when you could risk running into him.

“Okay, but!” You started and held up a finger like she could see it through the phone. “I have the right to leave at any time I want. Deal?” You heard her let out an annoyed groan at the other end of the line.

“Fine, whatever. I know you’ll love it.”

“I sure will. What do I wear?”

“Go all out babe. I’ll meet you tomorrow at 6. Love yous!” She hung up the call and you placed your phone on the table and just stared at it for a moment.

Your best friend was working at Richmond FC. The football club whose every match you’ve seen since you remember, up until last year. It was your family’s team. Now thanks to Jamie Tartt, you couldn’t even think of the name Richmond. And now your friend wants you to go back there, all dressed up, to an event where you could possibly – or even most likely – meet him and have to talk to him. Have to smile at him like he didn’t break your heart. Like you didn’t cry about him for months after he left.

But you weren’t that girl anymore, were you? Time has passed, you moved on, right? You didn’t cry about him anymore. But the twisting feeling in your gut when you thought about him, when someone mentioned him or even the team, when you saw ads with him told you otherwise. Told you that you in fact, have not moved on. But he doesn’t have to know that.

The walk on the way home was chilly and this time you couldn’t admire the flickering Christmas lights around you on the street, nor the sweet smell of cookies coming from the bakery. Your mind was filled with the thought of him, and the possibility of seeing him again. The thought of your friend being an asshole also crossed your mind a few times, but you knew she didn’t mean any harm. For all she knew you were over Jamie. And you were convinced of that too, but the squeezing feeling in your chest told you otherwise. You didn’t listen though. You didn’t care about him. You didn’t.

You told that to yourself the next day as you looked for that beautiful dress in your wardrobe that you might or might not wanted to wear to impress him. To make him feel like an idiot for throwing you away. You didn’t care about him. As you did your makeup a little more elegant than usual. You didn’t care about him. As you did the finishing touches on your hair. You didn’t care about him.

You picked up your purse and locked the door when you saw your friend calling, meaning she was there to pick you up with a cab. The cold air made you shiver a little and you were thankful for the ride. Wintertime was really not made for having these parties. A thin layer of snow covered the streets and the rooftops, the streetlights painting it a warm hue of gold. You let out a relieved sigh, suddenly you felt calm from the peaceful sight. You hopped in the cab and closed the door. Your friend let out an audible gasp as she looked at you.

“You look fucking fit, girl!” she squealed before she hugged you. You scoffed and chuckled before pulling away.

“Thanks, I guess” you smiled, heat crawling to your ears. Your friend gave the address of the venue to the cab driver, and you were off into the night.

“You really did go all the way, huh?”

“Your wish is my command!” you smiled at her, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“I got you something” she said and started to rummage through her small purse before she pulled out a small bottle of liquor. You laughed.

“Aren’t we going to a party with unlimited free booze?”

“Wanted to have a moment for just the two of us. No offense” she chuckled and looked at the cab driver who smiled back at her. “Thanks for being here.”

“My pleasure” you replied and took a sip out of the bottle. You felt the liquid burn your throat before you handed it to her. Truth be told, you felt alright. Together with your best friend, dressed to the nines, having a fun night out. Who cares about Jamie Tartt?

When you stepped inside the giant ballroom, your breath got caught in your throat. You’ve been to fancy places before – mostly with Jamie -, but nothing of such magnitude. The room was framed by insanely tall walls with red velvet covering, and shiny accents. Christmas ornaments and decorations hung from the ceiling next to the chandeliers, and there was a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner, next to the stage where the band played soft jazz music. Round tables occupied half of the room in a neatly organised pattern, the other half was the dancefloor.

Kind men took your coat, and you clutched your purse to try to calm your nerves. You felt like you didn’t belong, you stuck out like a sore thumb among these gorgeous and rich people. You felt your friend’s hand squeeze your own as she led you further into the room.

“It’s gonna be fine. We’re eating, getting wasted, dancing then going home, ‘kay?”

“Okay” you breathed. You didn’t dare to look around the room in case you recognised someone. Him.

The two of you made a beeline towards the bar and ordered your favourite shot that you drank immediately. You hoped it would calm your nerves a little.

“Easy girl, the night is still young!”

“That’s especially why I’m drinking” you chuckled. You felt a tap on your shoulder and your heart dropped to your stomach, blood freezing in your veins. That was until you’ve turned and saw Sam’s face and his thousand-watt smile.

“I knew it was you! It’s so good to see you!” he cheered, his accented voice ringing in your ear as he hugged you.

“Sam, oh my God! Look at you, you look amazing!” you answered and rested your hand on his arms. “How you’ve been?”

“Good, good! We have a lot to catch up on, you should write sometimes y’know!” Fuck.

“I know, I’m sorry.” A frown settled on your face, and he immediately tried to lighten the mood.

“Just messing with you. But hey, make sure to come say hi to the others later, okay?” he said, and he gestured to the other side of the room, and your gaze instinctively followed. Mistake.

There he was, in all his glory, as tall and handsome as ever. His hair was different, a bit longer and had highlights in it. It really suited him. He wore a slightly unbuttoned shirt and had its sleeves rolled up, his jacket discarded on a nearby chair.

You’ve felt like throwing up, the content of your stomach making somersaults nonstop. Yet you smiled like nothing happened and nodded at Sam. Your friend who you haven’t spoken to in months because he reminded you of Jamie. What an asshole move. And he was so kind he just forgave you.

“We sure will” you answered and squeezed his arm before you let go. And as he turned you sneaked another peek in Jamie’s direction. You felt lightheaded as his gaze caught yours and you looked away in a blink of an eye, turning your back at him.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry, look, we can just leave” your friend whispered as she looked at you concerned, but you just shook your head.

“I’m fine, really. When is dinner again?”

“In like half an hour” she replied.

“Mint, I’ll catch my breath outside and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s fine, really” you protested. “It’ll be just a minute, promise.”

“Fine” she sighed as she rubbed your arms. “But just a word and we’ll be out of here!” You nodded and headed towards the door that led to the back garden. Your steps were quick, and you had your head low to avoid anyone stopping you in your track. But you felt like your heels were too loud, that everyone was looking at you, that he was looking at you. In reality, only one of those was true.

As you opened the door, the cold air bit into your skin as you stepped outside. The garden was gigantic, and the grass was covered in a thin layer of snow. There were gravel paths going around in twisty patterns curving around shrubbery and statues.

To your surprise there were standing tables outside accompanied by tall heaters. You weren’t cold but you knew it was just temporary, so you took a beeline towards one of the heaters and stood next to the table under it. It was kind of magical, hearing only the distant music from the ballroom and nothing else, watching the snow-covered garden. You felt your heartbeat slow down and anxious thoughts leaving your head.

You heard footsteps approaching and you turned towards them with a smile, thinking it was Sam or your best friend. Of course, that was not the case. He took his jacket back on, but the top buttons on his shirt were still undone. He looked at you with a shy smile.

“I knew I saw you” he said, his hands in his pockets. You knew he was fiddling with them like he always did. You didn’t reply and you weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the anger. You stood in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Me neither” you replied, and your voice was colder than you thought it would be. It was perfect. He just couldn't see how he ruined you. He just couldn't.

“I can leave if you want?” he said, but it was almost like a question. A question you didn’t really know the answer for. Did you want him to leave? Or were you just over the moon that he was there, standing in front of you, with a heavy heart and a shy smile? You kind of never wanted that moment to end. You felt pathetic and you looked away from him, which he took as a cue to leave. “It’s alright. It was nice seeing you. You look beautiful.” What an asshole. What right does he have to call you that?

He turned his back on you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at your shoes. The fancy shoes that you might or might not picked out to impress him. You did get what you wanted didn’t you? He did call you beautiful. So why was it making you so angry?

“I just” he hesitated before continuing. “Wanted to say I’m sorry. Truly.” You looked up at him. His body was halfway turned from you, and he looked back, head hung low and a few strands of his hair fell into his eyes. Your ears were ringing as your heart was pounding in your chest.

“I was a royal prick. And you-“ he scratched his throat. “You deserved better. And you deserve better than me ruining your night, so I’ll leave you be. Sorry. Truly, it was nice seeing you.” he said and turned away. You felt like your mouth acted on its own as you called out after him. His gaze snapped back and met yours.

“Would you-“ you paused. “Like to stay a bit?” You could see his shoulders relax as he let out a breath he was holding. A smile found its way past his lips as he stepped closer to you under the heater.

“I’m glad you asked because I started to freeze my arse off” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But he was still very aware of his situation.

“Yeah, why can’t these company parties be held in the summer? You get all dressed up only to freeze your tits off” you smiled back at him. He was leaning against the table as he looked at you. It somehow felt right, being there with him.

“Well, some of us are more dressed up than others” he grinned as his eyes wandered up and down on your body. You pretended you didn’t see it, but the rising heat in your body said otherwise.

“I know, Rebecca looks insanely good tonight” you said to deflect the compliment.

“Yeah, she’s really good at this glam thing. Kinda jealous of her.” You cocked your eyebrow at him, but you didn’t say a word. Signalling him to go on. “Most of the times I just can’t wait to bolt at these events.”

“Why don’t you? Are you on the clock or something?” you asked, clutching your purse for dear life. The more reasonable part of your brain said you should just tell him to piss off. But you didn’t.

“Nah” he shrugged. “I just like the company a bit more than usual.”

You felt your heart flutter at the compliment. Then you immediately felt sadness. Then anger.

“Jamie, why on earth are you here?”

“Umm, it’s a company Christmas party?” he answered with a question, feigning ignorance.

“I meant here. And you know that. If you really would've liked my company, you probably wouldn't have dumped me to fuck around” you snapped at him and straightened your back, preparing to leave him. “Merry Christmas, Jamie.”

You turned on your heels and headed towards the main building. Now that you’ve stepped away from the heater the cold winter air crawled against your skin once more, tears prickling your eyes. You were stupid for coming here.

You picked up your pace before you felt a warm hand grip your wrist. You felt tired. You felt like you had no energy to do this right now.

“Please, love. Just give me a chance.”

“A chance for what, Jamie? To break my heart again?” you asked in a choked voice from holding the tears at bay. He let go of you and ran his hands through his hair. You hated how you knew he always did that when he was nervous. All this knowledge of him, all that love for him. What were you supposed to do with them now?

“What can I do to make it right? I’ll do anything.”

“Stop making a fool out of me. What do you want? A good nostalgia lay? A charity one, because it’s Christmas?” You were so angry at him. If all these were true, why did he just dump you? Say all those things he said. But at the same time, you wanted this to be true. But you weren’t ready for another heartbreak.

“Piss off, I’ve cried enough because of you already.” You turned your back on him again and stormed off. You saw your friend's silhouette at the door, and you felt relieved.

“I’m so sorry babes, I’ll call a cab, okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“It’s fine. I won’t give him the satisfaction of leaving” you let out a shaky breath and hugged your friend.

“What did he want anyway?”

“He said” you started but your voice choked up. “He said he was sorry. That he wanted to make it right.”

“You’re kidding. What did you say?”

“I told him to piss off, as you can see” you answered and let out a dry laugh.

“I can see that, but why?” she asked, and you snapped your gaze at her.

“What do you mean why? Don’t you remember he broke up with me to chase models instead?”

“But maybe he does want to make it right… and you love-“ she said but you broke her off.

“I don’t. Please can we just drop this? Let’s have dinner, what do you think?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Dinner was served by elegant waiters, all different kinds of soups, meats, salads, whatever you could’ve wished for. And fortunately, they didn’t hesitate to bring you drinks as well.

“No way!” you laughed at another guy who was sitting at your table. He was your friend’s coworker, or something like that. You actually had a really great time since the dinner started. These people were nice and funny, and took your mind off of Jamie for a bit. That was all you could’ve asked for.

“It’s nice to meet finally meet you guys in person, I’ve heard so much about you I feel like I’ve known you for ages!”

“Only good I hope!” another girl, Jenna chimed in and chuckled while your friend just rolled her eyes to hide her awkwardness. Mixing friend groups was always a stressful experience for her. Suddenly Jenna whispered something to the person who was sitting next to her – you remembered her name being Ellie.

“Yeah, for sure” Ellie said, covering her mouth while laughing.

“C’mon girls, didn’t they tell you it’s rude to whisper when you have company? Spill it!” your friend whined as she took another sip from her drink. Jenna rolled her eyes playfully before she leaned closer to the two of you.

“We were just talking about how shaggable some of our footballers are” she giggled, and you choked on your drink, what earned you a few weird looks.

“I’m sorry, I just tried to laugh and swallow at the same time” you replied quickly. During your exchange the wait staff started to clear your tables as the dinner was about to end, leaving place for the music, dancing, and drinking.

“Or maybe you fancy the gaffer? No shame in that he’s pretty fit himself” Ellie continued before Jenna cut her off.

“You bet he is. And he’s such a gentleman, I’ve ran into him at the cafeteria once. Maybe even too much of a gentleman.” She gave a knowing look before she chuckled. You knew this was going to be bad.

“C’mon girls, stop it! Anybody can hear you!” your friend tried to stop the situation from getting worse, but it was of no use.

“So, new girl, what do you say? Do you have a favourite guy on the team?” Jenna rested her head in her hands as she was looking at you, batting her eyelashes. She didn’t mean no harm; she had no way of knowing that you were in fact an ex-girlfriend of one of them.

“You know what, I’m kind of a Roy Kent girl myself” you said, and your friend snorted next to you, almost spitting her drink. You flashed a huge smile at her before clinking your glass against hers. The rest of the girls made approving noises before they got interrupted.

“That kinda hurts” his voice pierced your ears, and your heart went into overdrive. Of course. You turned towards him, and you swore your eyes shot daggers at him. He had one of his hands held out towards you, inviting you to take it. “Spare me a dance?”

You already drank enough to consider his offer. You felt everyone’s eyes on you and for a second you didn’t care.

“Sure” you replied in a low voice as you stood up. You heard a gasp from behind you, but you weren’t sure who it came from. You took Jamie’s hand as he led you towards the dancefloor. You heard your friend say “I told you anyone could hear it!” in the background and you smiled.

After you reached the centre of the dancefloor, he spun you around and put one of his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t look him in the eye, but scanned the room for anything else to focus on. The band was playing a slow song and couples started to flock to the floor next to you. You saw Ted asking Rebecca for a dance and even your friend stood up and made her way to the floor with someone. You felt Jamie trying to be sneaky and pulling you closer into him with every sway, but you didn’t say anything.

“Do you remember when you taught me how to dance?” he asked, and you heard the smile in his voice. You did remember.

“Of course” you said, barely audible.

“We moved the couch to make space. And even then, I hit my foot into it.” He spun you around to the rhythm of the music, then pulled you closer than before. And you let him, as you rested your head next to his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment as you closed your eyes. Like you were in your living room again, like he didn’t break your heart.

“Do you think you can forgive me?” he asked abruptly.

“It’s not-“ you hesitated. “It’s not that I can’t forgive you.” You knew you could forgive him in a second, because you loved him. You loved him so much, not a day went by without you missing him.

“What is it then?”

“I just don’t want to be hurt again. I know you just take whatever you want and when you’re bored you just toss it aside.” You fought your tears as you buried your face into his chest.

“I’m not that person anymore, love” he said and stopped the two of you, lifting your chin up so your gaze met his. “I promise.”

“Why should I believe you? You promised before you’d never leave me and then you tossed me aside. Made me feel worthless.”

“Fuck” he exhaled, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Can we talk somewhere else? Can’t hear my own thoughts.” You didn’t reply just nodded before he took your hands and led you outside to the same spot you’ve talked earlier. Tears were prickling the corner of your eyes as you followed him, looking down at your joint hands. He stood under the heater before he turned to you and placed both his hands on the side of your face.

“Look. I was a major prick, I know that.” He searched your face as he spoke. “But I promise, I’ve changed. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, I was an asshole. I know that now” he paused.

“But I-“ he started then he stopped, his eyes frantically scanning your face.

Don’t say it.

“I just-“

Don’t say it.

“Fuck, I-“

Just say it!

“I love you.” You let out a relieved sigh as you closed your eyes. He pulled you closer as he planted a kiss on your lips, shy and chaste. Your heart was stammering against your ribcage, and you felt like it was your first kiss ever.

“I love you too” you whispered as warm tears rolled down your cheeks, contrasting the cold air. He kissed you again, this time braver, and he poured his heart and soul into it as he pulled you in with his hand on the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your heart felt like a thousand suns exploded inside it.

“Please let me make it right.”

“Just make sure you won’t make a fool out of me again for saying yes to this, okay?”

“I promise” he said before he kissed you again. “But I have another question.”

“Yes?” you asked and raised your eyebrow.

“Are you really a Roy Kent girl?” You laughed at how real the concern was on his face as he looked at you with his puppy eyes.

“No, actually I’m a huge Jamie Tartt girl, have you heard of him?” you grinned as you caressed his face.

“Huh, sounds like he’s a lucky fella” he smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. Maybe it wasn’t so bad your friend invited you after all.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt h/c #jamie tartt romance #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso cast x reader #fluff

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wntrs0ldier · 11 months

Text

An Offer · part 08

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,6k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), a/n: this chapter smells like a soap opera, but i couldn't help myself. i was in a silly goofy mood, please don’t hate me<3

series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: But you and Bucky didn't follow the other guests. You didn't know the detailed layout of the rooms in that house, and the only secluded place you knew was the toilet. You dragged Bucky there almost by force, and apparently expecting an escalation of whatever was on your mind, he allowed you to do so.

“I'm sure you'll look beautiful, sweetheart,” Winnifred cooed. “I can't wait for the final result!” she added on her way to leave the room.

You spent the past few hours in Rebecca's bedroom, because that's where – aside from a large mirror, which rather every bedroom in the Barnes house was equipped with – was a vanity table; a really convenient solution when it came to doing your makeup and hair.

The upcoming ceremony didn't quite meet the criteria of typical weddings; there were only a few days to organize everything since the pre-agreement was signed. In all the chaos, there was no room to think about the choice of wedding dress or hall; you didn't have time to choose the flowers, the design of the invitations (there weren't even any invitations), the cake or the music. And you didn't particularly regret not having the opportunity to do so. It wasn't a real wedding – it didn't take place because two people who loved each other decided to get married. And since it didn't matter much, you didn't feel the need to care about any of the details.

It was different for Winnifred. She was aware of the same things as you, but that didn't stop her from beaming with excitement. You found this extremely charming; largely because of your own mother. As you left the house this morning she said, This boy will be the death of you.

Rebecca entered the bedroom, which surprised you a little. She had every right to be in a room that belonged to her, but since you had arrived at the Barnes mansion a few hours ago, Rebecca had been avoiding you.

You hesitantly put down your mascara, regretting that you had only just finished doing your eyes. Otherwise, you would have had an excuse not to confront Rebecca in any way.

“My mom is right. You will be a lovely bride,” she said, giving you a weak smile.

“Thank you.” You returned the friendly gesture, but were able to guess that it looked rather inept.

“Listen…” Rebecca sighed. “I'm sorry for the way I acted at dinner that night. I feel really horrible.”

“That's okay. You just had a bad day, I get it,” you replied. You didn't dare confess that you knew Rebecca's reasons for behaving the way she did. You feared that she would be furious to learn that her own sister had told you about this side of her life.

Rebecca seemed unsatisfied with your words. “I'm really sorry for what I said. Especially since I can see that you are not some random girl at all.”

Only after a moment did you realize that her gaze had landed on your engagement ring. Immediately, you felt a hot wave of sickening shame.

“I'm sorry, I'm not the one who should be wearing it,” you claimed, asserting what you had told Bucky earlier.

“Jamie wouldn't have given it to you if he thought it would end up in the wrong hands.” Rebecca smiled a little more confidently. “He obviously knows what he's doing.”

Yes, you've heard that before.

“Do you need help with your hair?” she proposed. “I swear I'm not going to destroy it in revenge.”

You laughed quietly. “Yes, please.” Accepting this offer had little to do with politeness or wanting to make Rebecca feel better. Indeed, you needed help.

Rebecca stood behind you, reached for a brush and began to comb your hair. She did this with extreme gentleness. “Are you nervous?”

“A bit,” you answered after a short thought, looking at your reflection. “But considering I'm marrying someone I've only known for a few weeks... That's normal, I guess.”

“You shouldn’t be. I am not trying to sell you my brother,” she remarked, raising her eyebrows. “But he will take care of you. You should just be careful what you wish for.”

You didn't show in any way that Rebecca's words intrigued you. You guessed that they had to do with Robbie's disappearance, but you chose not to ask. Rebecca was reaching out to you, being even a sweetheart, like the big sister you needed on that day. Destroying it would be a real stupid thing to do, and you weren't going to sabotage the atmosphere around your own wedding.

She did your hair, and although you weren't sure what you actually wanted, Rebecca managed to achieve a satisfying result. When it was time to shed your robe, Connie's absence began to bother you. You needed someone to point out your lace lingerie and crack a few dirty jokes about your wedding night. You weren't counting on Rebecca. Even if she had a slightly different character, the very thought of talking about it with the groom's sister was uncomfortable enough.

You fixed your gaze on the white dress spread out on the bed. Since this wedding wasn't exactly a traditional wedding, you hadn't quite understood why you couldn't have chosen a dress in any other color. And surprisingly, the person who explained to you some of the issues around this subject was Michael. Now you knew that when marrying someone like Bucky Barnes, the right symbolism had to be taken care of – purity and innocence. You had to give the impression of being untouched, waiting for your husband, apart from whom no other man existed. You had to be innocent; to do him no harm, to agree with his opinion, to submit to him. You didn't believe that anyone from the two Families – who were the only guests at this wedding, witnesses to the joining of the two clans for good – cared whether you were a good, silent virgin with no opinion of your own or not. But it was all about appearances. Though, perhaps, the elders of this community actually cared about such details?

After Rebecca had also helped you with your dress, you finally stood in front of a large mirror and looked closely at your reflection. You couldn't make up your mind how you felt about it all; before the wedding, for which you hadn't decided on the slightest thing, in the dress you and Winnifred had bought at the last minute. Staring at yourself like that, you realized that nothing really mattered much to you. You just wanted to get it over with.

Winnifred returned to the bedroom; you first saw her only in the mirror, and when you turned around, you noticed a bouquet in her hands. “I knew you would look beautiful,” she said with delight, her gaze expressing a tenderness you couldn't recall seeing in your own mother. She shook her head as if she had just remembered something. “I have something for you.” She handed you the bouquet of pink carnations and white freesias, tied with a silk ribbon in a pale shade of pink matching the color of the carnations. Somewhat caught off guard, you accepted the flowers. “Jamie just brought it.”

You took a shaky breath. “Oh…”

The ceremony, from start to finish, was to be held on Timothy's property. You didn't understand this aspect either, and Michael didn't clarify it to you, but given the significance of the white dress, you were able to draw your own conclusions – there was no greater, more important sanctity than the Barnes Family, therefore instead of any temple, there was the home of the head of the Family.

When you arrived, nothing had been clear since leaving the car. You weren't even sure if you were actually there – your body definitely, but everything else?

You and Michael stood in front of the entrance to the ballroom.

You weren't wrong about the temple analogy, and were made aware of it now as you saw more or less its interior; filled with chairs and guests sitting on them, it resembled a sanctuary of some kind – even the table at the far end of the room was an altar of sorts. Nevertheless, there was no traditional walking down the aisle; Michael led you down a corridor formed between two sides of the rows of chairs, but only because you needed his help – your veil made it difficult to see and the lengthy material of your dress to move freely.

Walking forward with the not-so-slow step you usually observed in brides, you kept your eyes on the ground. Paralyzed by some sudden fear, jitters, you were unable to focus it on anything else. All this nervousness was making you more and more distant from the reality of the situation.

Completely relying on Michael, you stopped when he stopped. Only then did you dare to lift your gaze, but the degree of transparency of the veil didn't allow you to see much. All you knew was that you stood right next to Bucky; that he had Steve and someone else at his side; that there was a man in front of you, acting not only as a priest but also as an official. At least that's what you thought, as you tried to logically interpret each element.

Normally, it should be Michael, in some way replacing your father, who should lift your veil in order to present you to your future husband, your new protector, provider. However, that right belonged exclusively to Bucky. Because Michael wasn't giving you away, he wasn't handing you over to good hands; it was Bucky who took you, if that was his will, accepted you, included you in the Family. From that moment on, your whole life depended on your husband.

But he didn't uncover your veil right away. It was as if you were to remain his sweet secret for as long as possible, protected from the gaze of others. Soon, though, he lifted the material and placed it behind your head, and he did so with such delicacy and concentration that you still didn't believe it was real.

Finally, you could look at his face, and although you could see the obvious tiredness and nervousness on it, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever met. And he was going to be yours for the rest of your life, until death do you part.

If there were actually vow words spoken – any words at all – you didn't hear them. Still numb with fear and anxiety, you stared at Bucky. He was scared too, you had no doubt about that, but instead of getting even worse, you felt... safe.

You approached the table on which the agreement rested. The priest handed the pen first to Bucky. But when Bucky leaned over the document, his hand holding the pen hung in the air. You only saw the side of his face, so couldn't tell much from it. Your forehead furrowed slightly; was he hesitating? Panicking? Had he suddenly changed his mind and was about to run away, leaving you at the altar?

Finally, however, he signed, bringing you back to breathing.

He moved the piece of paper towards you and handed the pen, without even glancing at you. You, too, leaned over the table, once again sweeping your gaze over the agreement, in effect realizing that something was wrong. It had expanded by at least one condition and some bold print.

The WIFE is obliged to provide the HUSBAND with an heir within a period of twenty-one months, i.e. the WIFE and the HUSBAND are obliged to conceive a child within twelve months from the date of the wedding.

Breach of any of the conditions will result in immediate termination of the agreement and a material penalty agreed by the parties.

So far you have felt so weak that you had the impression that you were about to faint. Now, you felt anger boiling up inside you; a sense of betrayal, of being a victim of trickery, pierced your heart painfully. You tightened your fingers on the pen with such force that it almost broke under their pressure. Despite everything, you signed the agreement, with the tip of the pen almost tearing through the paper.

There had been a lot of inconveniences in your path lately, but you couldn't recall any of them putting you in such a horrible mood. And when Bucky’s eyes met yours, you knew he saw that awful disappointment. Just as he should – he should be aware that he had hurt you. Did you expect to see guilt in response? Probably. But instead, there was anger, irritation, and somehow you knew it wasn't directed at you.

You also felt it when exchanging rings; Bucky squeezed your wrist a little too hard as he slid the wedding band onto your finger. He turned his jitters and anxiety into resentment; a phenomenon that intrigued you enough to make you forget your own for a moment.

The priest grabbed a previously prepared dagger; it had been resting on the table since the beginning, waiting for basically the most important part of the ceremony. “The act of joining two bloods.” The man took your hand carefully, turned it over and gently moved the dagger blade across your palm, leaving a bloody, not very deep line. You winced slightly, muffling a whine of discomfort. “So that two Families become one,” he added, proceeding to do the same with Bucky's hand, and he accepted it without the slightest movement; as if the blade had not even tickled him.

Thinking little of it, you reached for Bucky's wrist to draw his hand closer, then covered the inside of it with yours. As if by reflex, his fingers closed and embraced your hand gently. Maybe you were angry, but your body followed its own rules, and as Bucky made this small gesture, you felt warmth coming from where your hands touched; it spread to your chest, to the pit of your stomach.

The ceremony came to an end in as grave a mood as the whole of it. Timothy invited the guests to the garden, where a tent had been set up earlier – Winnifred's idea, as she had refused to let the feast take place in Timothy's cave. She insisted on this dose of romance, and it wasn't until after the ceremony that you realized she was right. The tent in the garden, in the middle of spring, was truly uplifting.

But you and Bucky didn't follow the other guests. You didn't know the detailed layout of the rooms in that house, and the only secluded place you knew was the toilet. You dragged Bucky there almost by force, and apparently expecting an escalation of whatever was on your mind, he allowed you to do so.

“What was that?” you asked before he managed to close the door behind you. Anger surged inside you again, and the best way to get rid of it that popped into your head was to hit Bucky with whatever you had in hand – in this case, your bouquet. “Promise me you’ll be my partner,” you quoted his words from a few days ago, and the flowers collided with his arm again. “My ally.” And again. “My wife.” And again.

“Y/N…” he sighed, patiently taking your harmless punches.

“You tricked me into continuing your bloodline!” Paying no attention to his calm tone, you didn't stop to hit him with the bouquet, which, by the way, wasn't as destroyed as it should have been.

“Y/N!” he hollered, suddenly grabbing your forearm, therefore stopping you from striking again. “Let’s talk about this. Like reasonable people.”

“So I am a person?” Your eyebrows rose. “Not a breeding stock?”

“I didn’t know!”

“How could you not know! You worked on this agreement together!”

And you were yelling at each other again, this time locked in that small space being the bathroom in Timothy's huge house. This only increased your frustration, because neither of you could escape. Besides, you couldn't escape not only physically; you were now stuck with each other.

“I didn't know. Okay?” he said much more calmly, although you felt that a gentle push would be enough to shatter all that calm again. “Timothy changed the deal behind my back. I should’ve known that he would pull something like this, he was too compliant…” He shook his head, looking away.

You thought it would be easier if you also stopped looking at him. So you concentrated on the bouquet; you pulled out the flowers that were only appropriate for throwing away. “You expected that he could pull something like this,” you began in a hushed voice, tentatively lifting your gaze to him. “And you didn’t do anything about it?”

He also looked at you, unable to hide that your words had affected him. At that moment, you regretted that they had left your lips, but on the other hand, maybe he should have heard them? After all, you were the one who was the most violated in the situation, and although you yourself once mentioned that a baby-free deal was rather impossible to achieve, you felt cheated.

“Don’t say that.” Bucky's voice sounded as quiet and weak as yours, his eyes expressing a begging; asking you not to give up on him like that, not to throw him into one bag with his uncle. “I’ll talk to him,” he added quickly. “I’ll talk to him now.” He seemed distracted, heartbroken, waiting for your approval.

On that day, he was definitely not himself. And it hit you, what you had promised him – not to make this any harder than it has to be.

“Bucky-” you spoke tenderly, touching his arm, which only a few minutes ago you had been punching. “Do it after the party, okay? I don't want to ruin it for you. The penny has dropped anyway, so…” You shrugged.

You were still angry, betrayed, disappointed. But in all this, you forgot to see that Bucky was trying; that he was carrying a little too much weight on his shoulders. It appeared that he had been tricked, too, and you were probably the only person who could – should – show him some support.

Bucky smiled sadly, his lips pressed together. You didn't know him long enough, but just as before you were able to sense that he wasn't angry at you, now you got the strong impression that there were processes going on in his head that could lead to dangerous consequences.

You joined the rest of the guests in a tent at the back of the house. They didn't notice your absence, or took it as perfectly natural – slipping away to satisfy some burning need; that maybe you couldn't wait any longer to fulfill your marital duty. You would have preferred it to be exactly that instead of new problems.

Although you didn't doubt Bucky's intentions anymore and believed that he didn't know about his uncle's ruse, there was this lingering sense of unease accompanying you all the time. Maybe it had something to do with the stress of the last few days, which had reached its zenith just today? Or would you have been able to relax at home, away from all those people?

During a seemingly endless conversation with Winnifred and Rebecca, you noticed that you had lost sight of Bucky. The last time you saw him talking to the man who had introduced himself to you earlier as Sam Wilson, but you couldn't pinpoint when exactly that was – fifteen minutes ago, but it might as well have been over an hour.

You decided to try not to panic. He was talking to someone again, this time out of your view, or holed up for a cigarette.

Somewhere outside the fence sounded the loud roar of an engine, followed by the screech of tires. A few guests stopped their ongoing conversations and listened for a moment, while the rest were not particularly concerned about the noise. You were not part of either group; anxiety suddenly grew to enormous sizes, turning your stomach inside out.

Someone touched your shoulder, and you immediately knew it wasn't him; Bucky would do it differently. You looked over and saw Michael – white as a sheet. “Can we talk?”

You excused yourself, and Michael, keeping the appearance of being completely in control, led you into the house. You didn't ask what had happened – you sensed that something bad hung in the air.

Michael brought you to Timothy's office. He, on the other hand, looked furious; he was sitting behind his desk, and there was a burning smell in the room.

“Your agreement.” He pointed to the desktop; to the charred scraps of paper resting on it and the ring – the same one you slid onto Bucky’s finger a couple hours earlier.

At first your stomach dropped. He destroyed the agreement and left. And without Bucky, without the agreement, you were ruined.

Despite the fact that you were terrified, you were not going to break down in front of Timothy. He had humiliated you enough. “Which one?” Having tilted your head to the side, you lifted your eyebrows. “There were two versions, right? Were you inspired by Rumlows with the second one?”

Your biting tone did not go unnoticed by Timothy. “You are acting very boldly for someone who will soon be left with nothing.”

Painfully aware that Timothy was right, you glanced at your secured future – burnt, useless. Not only that was burnt and useless; you and Bucky had burned all the bridges together; Bucky had first beaten Brock Rumlow, then humiliated John Walker and finally vanished into thin air himself.

But why exactly did he do it? He didn’t listen to you and talked with Timothy anyway; there had to be something his uncle had to have done; something that pushed his limits, tipped his balance. Or maybe his sweet words meant nothing and he decided to show you that marriage really wasn’t for him?

“Looks like you're back on the market.” Timothy stated. “I'm really ashamed of what my nephew did to you, darling.”

Unable to listen to Timothy any longer, or even look at him, you turned to Michael. “Can we go home?”

“Certainly,” he answered in such a gentle, almost fatherly tone that you have never heard from him before.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz

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lottiembae · 3 months

Text

𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉; alex dunphy x fem!reader

Summary: in which alex asks her family to be normal when she introduces y/n, her girlfriend, for the first time. they didn't do it.

Warnings: fluff.

Note: English is not my first language.

Alex sighed for the sixth time, her eyes glued on the screen with Y/N's chat open. Haley walked into the kitchen and heard her sister, she could see the stress on Alex's face.

"It's only dinner, Alex. Stop worrying." Haley reassured her, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and walking towards the cushion where her sister is. "She met us before."

"Yeah, don't remind me that." Alex muttered, blocking her phone and throwing it at her lap. "This time is different, Haley. It's the whole family." She pointed out, biting her nails.

Haley grabbed her hand, stopping the damage she is doing on her nails. "Well, if she didn't run away with dad, there's no necessity to worry." She tried to light the mood, sipping from the bottle.

Alex let out a small smile, remembering when her dad said some of his silly jokes and Y/N laughed, then her father leaned on her and said that she needed to keep that girl. Alex knew that there is no necessity to worry, not when Y/N had the approval from her parents and siblings. Claire was sceptical at first, someone dating her daughter or any of her children was difficult for her, but after meeting Y/N, Claire adores her too.

Maybe Alex is being a little paranoid.

"You are right," the brunette murmurs, looking at her old sister and giving a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Haley said smiling. "Well, are you going with that clothes?" Alex rolled her eyes, used to Haley's criticism of her style.

"No, Haley. I will change, but if you want to choose the clothes for me,-" Alex was interrupted by Haley excited squeal, not letting her finish and grabbing her hand, the older sister dragged Alex upstairs. "It's my fault to not explain to her how sarcasm works." Alex muttered to herself.

•••

"Alex! You need to pick up Y/N. Hurry up!" Claire yells from the living room.

"I know. I'm grabbing my keys car!" Alex went there, making Claire frown because she thought her daughter was in her bedroom.

"Let's go then. We will see you in your granddad's house." Her mother said, disappearing in the bathroom momentarily.

Alex scoffed. "You seem more excited to see Y/N than having dinner with the whole family." She mutters, leaning on the frame with a ghost of a smug smirk.

Claire looks at her with a raised eyebrow. Alex rolls her eyes and walks to the front door. "Also, you look beautiful, honey!" Her mother complimented her, coming back to the bathroom.

"Haley picked it up." Alex states, pushing her glasses up and closing the door, going to her car.

She drove towards Y/N's home. They are on vacation, and they would pass a period away from each other. Y/N going to a new job to save some money and Alex doing the same thing, they barely would see that summer.

"You have a dress!" Was the first thing Y/N told Alex when she entered the car.

"Really? Almost two weeks apart and you told me that?" Alex said reproaching while crossing her arm, an indignant look on her face.

Y/N rolls her eyes with a smile. "You look beautiful, Al. I missed you." These words soften Alex's features, the start of a blush creeping on her cheeks.

"You look beautiful too and I missed you." Alex said too, in a low voice. Their arms go down and put her right hand on the gear lever, gazing at her girlfriend. Y/N grabs her face between her hands and pecks her lips, receiving a whine from Alex when she separated. "A proper one." She mutters on her mouth, her hand sneaking behind her back and closing the gap in a tender kiss.

They separated after a few minutes, Alex intertwining her hand with hers and caressing the palm of her hand with her thumb. Y/N peck one more time on her lips and hurry her up.

"You don't seem nervous at all. Usually people feel like that." Alex points out, starting the engine and driving to her granddad's big home.

Y/N snorted. "Yeah, like you with mines." She murmurs, Alex scoffs offended. "It was sweet, baby. Alex Dunphy nervous. I will never see you like that again." She said, chuckling and caressing her arm playfully.

Before Alex could answer and give a long explanation, a call from her phone interrupted the moment. She reads the name on the screen and curses under her breath, Y/N looking at her with a teasing smirk. Since she saw Alex doesn't go to answer the call, Y/N presses the green button, gaining an incredulous look from Alex.

"Hi, Ms Dunphy!" Y/N said cheerfully, her eyes never leaving Alex's indignant face.

"Hello, Y/N! How are you? And I told you to call me Claire, sweetie." Claire greets back. They engaged in a conversation, for Alex's dismay. It worsened when Phil, Alex's dad joined the conversation. "Alex, honey I almost forgot. Can you go at home and bring the cake I made last night? I thought Luke grabbed it."

"Oh, I exist again." Alex annoyed said, gaining a slap by her girlfriend on her arm for that. "Yes, mom. I'm on my way." She said in a monotone voice.

"Thank you, darling. Don't be late!" Claire warned them gently and hung up after Y/N's reply.

"She thinks we would have sex in your home?" Y/N asked curious when Alex parked the car.

Alex made a thinking face before getting out. "Maybe you should get in too. I can show you my bedroom." She said in a suggestive tone, making Y/N laugh.

"Nice try, baby. But the first time we make it in your house, there needs to be people. I like the risk." Y/N held her laugh when saw her girlfriend do a grimace.

"Stay here." Alex lowly said and went to her home, letting behind Y/N laughing for her reaction.

•••

Y/N walked to Alex's side when she got out of the car, the cake in her hands. She perceived Alex was nervous, her demeanor radiated it.

"Are you sure about it?" She asks gently, starting to walk to the front door.

Alex looked at her with a confused face but nodded, her left arm finding comfort on Y/N's waist. "Yes. It's... I don't know. I don't want them to make you feel uncomfortable." She half confesses, stopping a few centimeters away from the front door.

Y/N gives her a reassuring smile. "Baby... What would be more embarrassing than my family picking you over me because I'm not that good at that silly game or calling you to ask you if you still are in love with me?" She saw how Alex relaxed a little, a tiny smile on her lips now.

"They are joking when they ask that." Alex said, kissing her cheek.

"Well, maybe I can joke with them just like you joke with my family." Y/N said, seeing Alex nod and resume the way towards the door. She knocks a few times.

Not passed about five seconds that the door opened and revealed a beaming Claire. "Thank you so much girls! Come in." She said, grabbing the cake from Y/N's hands and giving her a quick hug before going to the kitchen.

"Woah. It's really big." Y/N commented, her eyes scanning the place.

"It is." Alex said, closing the door.

"There she is!" Phil exclaimed, walking towards them and engulfing Y/N in a warm hug. Alex's heart melts a little seeing not only her mother, but her father too to have a soft spot for Y/N.

"Hi, Mr Dunphy! Sorry, Phil. I'm glad to see you again." Y/N happily said, correcting herself when Phil gave her a warning look for calling him Mr Dunphy.

They exchanged a few words before the rest of the family came. Haley and Luke approached Y/N to greet her just like their dad. Then, Alex introduced the rest one by one.

"And he is Jay, my grandad." She finishes, seeing her granddad gift her a smile and hug briefly Y/N. It surprises them a little, usually Jay is not a person who shows love publicly easily. Only Gloria and Stella are the lucky ones.

"Hi, Mr Pritchett. Nice to meet you." She said politely, unaware about the gesture received.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Call me Jay, do you? What?" He asked when saw the receiving looks from his family. "Excuse them, they are sometimes weird people." He said in a teasing way, making Y/N chuckle softly.

Then, Y/N's eyes illuminated when she saw Stella approaching, going to greet her immediately. Jay makes a cheerful sound, pointing the scene not only at Alex, to Gloria too, who rolled her eyes and called them to go to sit down.

"I don't know why you are so worried. She has the big boy in her pocket." Haley whispered at Alex, seeing Y/N play with Stella.

•••

Alex thought the same when Haley said these words.

She sat down between Y/N and Luke, meanwhile her girlfriend had at her left part at her mother. They all seem very interested in Y/N, making her questions, something that Claire did ten months ago when they met for the first time. Until her mom, who else, started to say embarrassing stories about Alex, making her blush and shutting her up without success. It's not only her mother, they all joined against her for some reason and recalled the very embarrassing moments about her.

"OKAY! I think she knows all of your stories about me! Can we move on, please?" Alex exploded, throwing her napkin on the table and standing up, walking outside.

The whole table stayed quiet for her outburst. Y/N follows her figure until she disappears. An awkward silence installed, and Claire stood up to go where Alex is. However Y/N stood up and asked her if she could go, something Claire nodded for.

She walked slowly towards the pool, where Alex was sitting with her feet on it, playing with the water. She chose to sit down on her lap, Alex hiding her face on her neck immediately, wrapping her arms on her hips.

"I know for you it is embarrassing... But for me it is really cute." Y/N commented softly, playing with her hair.

Alex frowned, raising her head and letting it to centimeters of hers. "How? For me it isn't only embarrassing. It's humiliating. Some of them I felt out of the family." She confesses, some frustrated tears forming on her eyes.

Y/N softens more, grabbing her cheeks with both hands and looking directly into her eyes. "Maybe, but they treasure those moments because you are involved. I don't think they wanted to feel humiliated. I only see pride when they speak about you." She wipes the tears that fell for her cheeks with a smile. "I can't wait to say this type of thing to our children. God, I'm going to embarrass them so much." She said looking dazed, making Alex laugh.

For Alex, every time Y/N spoke about their future and she included her, forming a family, she thinks she could do the same all again if she would meet you every time. She leaned and captured her lips in a sealing kiss, a promise one.

A noise made them separate and look where it came. Y/N smiled but Alex painted an exasperated expression on her face, seeing her dad with a phone directed towards them, the sound was a photo he took of them.

Y/N stood up and tended a hand towards her, who grabbed it and they walked hand in hand. Cam was a little emotional, Mitchell gave them an apologetic smile. Gloria went to hug them both, the rest quickly following.

"Y/N, do you have a sister for Manny? I don't trust anyone for him. He is too good and someone like you is what he deserves." Everyone let out a laugh for it, less Manny who protested for it. Maybe Gloria said it to distract or not, but Alex thanked her with a look. It means the whole family approves of her girlfriend.

"Oh! I have a story," Y/N said when they separated, walking in. They looked at her curiously, Alex confused. "The story about me and Alex meet. It's so funny." She said cheerfully, clapping with her hands and ignoring the whine and the begging look Alex threw at her.

They all cheered, wanting to know everything.

#alex dunphy #alex dunphy x reader #alex dunphy imagine #modern family

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formerheroeswhoquittoolate · 10 months

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okay so for those of you who haven't met me (most of you) I really like thinking about the way people talk (tone, inflection, accent, speech patterns, et cetera) and I'm tired so I'm extending this to the batfamily here we go here's my thoughts, unrequested and only slightly edited:

dick: sounds a bit like a male pop singer (think brendan urie but without the whining or busting his voice with drugs and bad technique). dude has a killer falsetto and can hit some of the highest notes in the house, beat out only by steph. saw a headcanon somewhere about him growing up speaking romani because of his parents and having an accent as a child that comes back when he's hurt or tired and honestly 100/10 it's part of this headcanon (and if you know where this post is please tell me! it's not mine and I'd love to give credit). you can also hear it in the way he says a couple less common words but his accent otherwise sounds exactly like bruce's.

jason: doesn't have the deepest voice of the batfamily; he's third deepest after bruce and duke. his tessitura (comfortable vocal range) is big though and his voice pitch changes a ton with his mood. he's got a soft r that the other bats don't have (think ny or boston) that he learned from his mom. his falsetto is trash but he is one of the better singers in the family. all low notes. you should hear him do the song the dwarves sing in the beginning of the hobbit.

tim: his voice is a little scratchy but it's not too noticeable. damian is the only batboy with a higher voice; tim and cass are at about the same pitch. he's a tad self-conscious about how he sounds in general and heavily mimics so he's got bruce's crisp ts and a softer r like jason's. he says "ahm" instead of "um" and that's not really common in gotham so nobody really knows where he's gotten that from. he's definitely more monotone, for a lot of reasons, and tends to emphasize his words by changing in volume rather than pitch.

damian: he's like twelve so his voice hasn't dropped yet but he wants it to be lower like his brothers. he's got just a touch of an arabic accent so his speech is a little more melodic and much like tim he's a mimic so he has bruce's ts and a few sporadic romani and aave quirks from dick and duke respectively.

duke: second lowest voice of the batfamily. the kid's quiet and his speech is usually peppered with aave although he's often a little self-conscious about it around the primarily white batfamily and especially white upper-class bruce. doesn't sing in public but he's good at it (he refuses to acknowledge this)

cass: okay she hardly ever talks but when she does it's slightly lower in pitch than what people expect. she typically speaks in broken english (well that's canon not headcanon) and it's always the same way as someone else in the batfamily speaks, usually babs, steph, duke, or jason since she spends the most time with them. she's barely ever louder than a kitten sneeze.

stephanie: holy shit the girl talks fast. she's got the highest speaking voice too by a few steps. gorgeous soprano but only about fifty percent of the time. loses her voice completely when she gets sick and turns into a raspy old lady. has an absolute knack for impersonations, not necessarily in terms of pitch but in speech patterns/rhythms.

barbara: right in between tim/cass and steph in terms of pitch. she uses very precise language and there's often random hacker lingo in there. she's also surprisingly loud and can out-shout any of them except for alfred.

and finally, bruce: deepest voice by a step or two. his batman growl is actually slightly higher in pitch if you listen closely enough which jason finds hilarious. he's got very crisp ts as a result of being raised primarily by the very british alfred and he often takes his time speaking especially in meetings.

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zujime · 1 month

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Hi, I'm new to your blog, but I really like your creativity, you're doing a great job. I have an idea and I hope you like it too. I imagine Jotaro during part 3 with fem s/o who usually has little contact with Jotaro and doesn't approve of his rude behavior, but during a late night conversation confesses to JoJo that he reminds her of her little sister. They are equally rude in public, they have equally stern faces, but inside them is hidden a big and kind heart open to from the family

─── jotaro k.

cw. fluffy stuff, fem reader, and some swearing

jotaro, who you hardly stand next to throughout the journey—mostly to keep your mind on the task at hand but also because it’s already enough of a mood ruiner hearing him rudely telling someone off, the last thing you want is for any of that to be unintentionally directed towards you. so, steering clear seemed like the safest option as of now. though, his unreadable blue hues always seemed to glimmer beneath the brim of his hat whenever he’d catch yours as he took a drag of his cigarette.

jotaro, who gives even a baby a daunting glare for staring at you at all. unless the two of you have been torn away from one another, making civil conversations with anyone is nothing but a challenge as you’re escorted around with your own personal, six-foot-tall pole with an unmatched poker face.

jotaro, who despite his cold demeanor, thinks of you when he’s getting food. typically getting something big enough for the both of you, saying something along the lines of “figured we could split it” as he spots the giddy look on your face.

jotaro, who’s now in a hotel room the two of you are sharing for the night. the room remains silent for a while but it’s different from his typical, cold silence—it's faint, but warm. his frame and features soften when he’s under your tender gaze. it’s not until a few moments later that you realize, he reminds you of someone.

“hm..?” he hummed as studied your expression—a soft smile adorned your lips as you shook your head slightly, chuckling before opening your mouth to speak. “it’s just— you remind me of my little sister.” you catch the way the space between his brows crinkle faintly as he processes what you’ve just told him. “she acts like you in a way—-she’s almost just as much of an asshole, except… behind closed doors.”

jotaro, who smiles a little at your words. his heavy steps were now gentle against the wooden floor as he padded across the room to sit beside you on the bed. uttering a “so? want me to be nice to everyone i meet or something?” before moving to hold your face in one of his hands—cheek cupped gently in his grasp. “get some rest” he whispers, running a thumb across the expanse of your cheekbone.

#[♪]. jotaro #jotaro x reader #jojo x reader #jotaro headcanons #jjba x reader #jjba headcanons #jjba #jjba part 3 #jjba stardust crusaders #jjba part 4 #4taro #jotaro imagine #jotaro kujo #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro smut #jojo headcanons #female reader #reader insert #jjba hcs

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gxtfictx · 4 days

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2x20- Honor among thieves

Summary: Emily is scared to tell her mother about her relationship. This is a one-shot inspired by 2x20 because I love this kind of dynamic. It's a whole episode insert. TW: some suggestive content, fluff, coming out, I really can't think of anything else but let me know if I'm missing something A/N: I love making these, and I've realized there's almost no episode inserts for Emily in a one-shot format and why is that??? i love these sm please people write more like this. English it's not my first language and it's 4am so sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy, any feedback is appreciated, please like and reblog if you like it.

“Excuse me, agent. I need to speak to agent Prentiss and one of her superiors” a commanding voice can be heard from outside the room. You don’t recognize it, so you look at Emily, sitting next to you, her almost horrified face tells you she does know who the woman speaking is. She shoots up from her seat, and looking down you can hear her asking “Mother?” You had never meet Emily’s mom, but you had heard some conversations with her daughter over the phone. You could always tell she wasn’t in a good mood because her mom had called. In a way it reminded you of your own relationship with your mom. Emily and you were open about your relationship, everyone on the team knew and they supported you. Once you had promised to limit the PDA, even Hotch had let you share hotel rooms during cases, and change desks with Spencer so you could be next to each other. However, families were always a different area. You knew how strict Emily’s mom had been with her, and still was. She hadn’t told her about you yet, so to her mother’s eyes, Emily was still single, and hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time now. You didn’t mind it, Emily wasn’t close to her family, or any other relatives. The BAU was like your family, it was her choice after all.

•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸¸.•*

Whatever happened inside Hotch’s office convinced him to take the case. You kept an eye on Emily the whole time you were discussing the case. She stays by the poor woman’s side who can’t stop crying over her husband’s chopped off finger, Emily keeps trying to calm her talking to her in Russian. Hotch divides the team, sends Reid, Morgan and Gideon were sent to Baltimore, and you stayed there along with Emily and Hotch.

You knew your girlfriend and her mom weren’t exactly close, what you weren’t expecting was how her presence would affect Emily. You want to comfort her but you can’t do it in front of her mom, so you just keep sneaking to rest your hand on her thigh behind the table, maybe to caress her shoulder when no one is looking, she leans on your touch accepting it. Emily and you both walk up to Hotch when he gets out of his office “Your mother’s got feelers out. She’s confident she can get results” he tells Emily “Well, if anybody can, it’s Ambassador Prentiss” she answers “How is she doing?” Hotch asks referring to the victim’s wife, who is still crying in the chair Emily just left her “How would you be?” She answers JJ finally arrives accompanied by the translator, who she has already briefed, and takes her to talk with the family. “Thank god. I’m really not very good at Russian” Emily tells us, and even Hotch smiles “If it would be all right, I would like to go help my mother” Hotch accepts, but she just stands there, looking at you, almost as if trying to say something she doesn’t dare to say. You know she wants you to come with her, but doesn’t know if you’re ok with it, and won’t ask the question. “Hotch, may I-“ “Yes, go” you don’t even have to finish asking, he accepts and you see Emily’s expression change and relax “Thank you, sir” you say, but he has already turned around and you follow Emily

•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸¸.•*

“Hey you” you say with a soft voice, entering the rest room, you were dying for some alone time with your girlfriend and it seemed like that was the only place you would find it “how are you coping?” You ask, as you stepped closer to her. She was standing in the mirror, looking at her reflection grabbing her hair with her hands “I’m great!” She says sarcastically, and made you chuckle, you wrap your arm around her waits, pulling her close to you, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek, she smiles weakly in approval.

"I know this is being hard for you Em" you tell her, running your hand through her back soothingly.

"It´s just... when I'm with my mom... It doesn't matter if it's at work, or at home, I could be anywhere and still feel like I'm 16 again" she lets out, resting her head on your shoulder and pulling you closer. "I can't be who i really am... i mean, we have to hide in the bathroom to even touch" she says referring to the current situation

"Wait, -be who you really are?- Em, you haven't come out?" you ask, feeling a mix of surprise and sadness, telling her mother about her relationship is one thing, but not telling her she was gay at all, it's a completely different business.

"No, I'm sorry.... it never felt like the right time to do it, and you saw her, I mean how am I even supposed to do it? Does this...change anything?" You would obviously never pressure Emily into comin out, you knew very well yourself how hard it could be, and everyone's case is different, even tho this only confirmed your previous worry on not being able to have a relationship of any kind with Emily's mother, you could also feel how frustrating everything was for her, how much she needed this.

"Hey, no, of course it doesn't, how could it? mph?" you tighten your grip around her waist to avoid her letting go, resting your other hand on her cheek, caressing her face with your thumb, she closes her eyes relying on the touch, moving her lips to kiss the palm of your hand, you bring her face close to kiss her. Her lips grazing yours softly, you caress her face with your hand, she touches your face with her hand, pulling you closer, deeper.

The sudden noise of the door opening surprises you, you quickly pull away from each other, you turn around to see her mom just entered the restroom. She mutters a soft "hello" mostly for Emily, more than for you. You try to play it cool as well as you can, finish washing your hands as fast as you can and leave, praying that she hasn't seen anything.

•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸¸.•*

You try to keep quiet as you overhear a conversation between Emily and her mom on the other room. Emily seems upset at how her mom is -turning the conversation into an interrogation- as she just said, and you casually walk in which shuts them up suddenly. A call comes in for Ambassador Prentiss and she picks up right after the first tone.

"Gregor! My daughter Em's in the room with me" she greets the man on the other line "Ah! little Emily" he says. you can't contain the smile that forms on your lips, looking at Emily and mouthing the nickname to mess with her, she smiles back, mouthing you to keep it down, but she can't contain the smile that forms on her lips as well. Unfortunately, the man can't give us any new information, so he says goodbye to Emily, and she hangs up the phone in defeat.

"We should head back to the office and let them know" Emily says, and you rush to go with her, her mom makes you stay, she insists she needs to ask you a few questions about the list of names you had called Garcia to run earlier, and you tell Emily you'll meet her outside.

Your whole body tenses as you see the d¡way Emily's mom is looking at you, you can tell she's trying to decipher you, maybe she saw something when she entered the restroom earlier, maybe she'll tell you she wants wyou away from her daughter.

"Agent y/l/n, are you by any chance close to my daughter?" she asks, you can tell she's genuinely curious, it's not a rethorical question, so you try to answer with as much sincerity as you can.

"well, yes, almost since the first time we met, I mean, you could tell we are pretty close" it's the most honest you can be without saying -actually, we spend a lot of time together, mostly in bed-

"and would you say she's happy?" this one takes you by surprise, you can hear the concern in her voice, she's just a worried mother.

"from what i know Emily, and i believe i can say it's a lot, i would say she is very happy, but with all due respect, if you really wanna know maybe you should ask her yourself, just like that" she takes a couple of seconds to look at you, analysing what your answer and yourself, then, dismissing you with a "Thank you" you leave.

"what did she want from you?" she asked, you could read the worry in her eyes

"she wanted to know if we were close, and if you were happy" you tell her straight away. "and what did you tell her?" she asks, confused. "i said we were quite close, and from what i could tell, you were pretty content" she nods, accepting your answer. "She seemed pretty defeated, maybe she isn't infallible after all"

•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸¸.•*

It didn't take much longer to solve this case. The victim's daughter being involved in the kidnapping came as a surprise to all of you, but as always, you let it go, and finished for the day.

You and Emily went back to her apartment, there were very few nights you spent apart, and this was no other. You were specially happy tonight to have some alone time to spend with one another.

Emily was quick to flop on the couch as soon as you entered the apartment, it made you happy to see her as her usual self in the confort of her apartment.

"I'm so glad this one's over" she breathes out as she struggles to take her shoes off. You headed towards the kitchen to grab something to drink for the both of you, looking at Emily and chuckling at her efforts. "Need a hand with that?" you said suggestively as you grab two wine glasses of the counter.

She gets up the couch and heads your direction "Here you go" you say offering her a glass of red wine. She takes a sip and smiles, turning her head to look at you.

"I'm sorry if i was a bit frisky today" she says "It's ok, you had a rough one, we all do, you were also under a lot of pressure" you added, trying to take it off her mind, and taking another sip of your glass. "Well, I think i know how to make it up for you" she smirks and rises her eyebrows, taking your glass and leaving it along with hers on the counter again, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer and kissing you deeply.

You breath out in release, thankful to finally be this close after the stressful day. She grabs you with both her hands, leaving you on the countertop, moving to your neck, leaving wet, soft kisses all over the sensitive skin there, you wrap your arms around her neck and hers find their way underneath your shirt.

You pull your head back, allowing your girlfriend a better access to your neck, which she uses to cover all your neck in kisses, nipping at your skin there which would for sure leave purple marks by tomorrow. You moan when she finds your pulse-point, and run your hands through her body, getting rid of her shirt as fast as you can, going back to kissing her lips.

She starts unbuttoning your shirt, not wanting to waste any second. She pushes you further onto the countertop where she has a better access to your body, you wrap your legs around her waist, running your hands over her back, trying to reach every square inch of skin you can get to.

She's right about to start unbuttoning your pants when a knock on the door surprises the both of you

"Did you order dinner?" You ask her, she shooks her head. She grabs her shirt and rushes to get it on, when you hear the knock again, you start buttoning yours too.

"I'll go check it out" You say, as you get to the door and open it in a hurry. You were ready to make go away whoever was trying to interrupt your night, but instead your mouth just flew open as you saw who was knocking on your girlfriend's door. "Ambasador Prentiss?"

"Hello? Agent y/l/n I thought this was my daughter's adress" she says in confusion, you can't even respond, you've siemply freezed.

"Mom?!" Emily chokes out behind you "What are you even doing here?" she rushes towalk next to you, when you look at her you notice how she hasn't placed her shirt right yet.

"Well, i thought now that I'm here, i could pay my daughter a visit, but I didn't think you had guests, what is she doing here?" she asks, almost ignoring the fact that you're also there, and asking her daughter directly. However, and considering Emily's shocked face, you take it upon yourself to answer.

"I came in because i needed to return a blender i borrowed form Emily last week, i was almost in my way out tho, so don't worry" you say trying to save the situation.

"No, y/n, wait" Emily started, as she took a step closer to you

"Wait, Em, you don't have to" you say, trying to stop her from making a mistake

"I actually do" she says looking at you, her eyes full of fear and excitment reflecting on yours

"Mom, Y/n is, well, she is my grilfriend, we've been daiting over a year now, I'm gay" she grabs your hand, and you hold her tight, trying to clam her down, and showing her your support.

"And I am telling you because I don't want to hide, not anymore" she adds, and you can feel how her hand tights around yours.

"well... i don't know what to say" you both wait for an answer, but it takes a long time for it to come. "I mean, I can't say I'm surprised" she finally says, and Emily can't contain her impatience "how- i mean- what do you mean?"

"Well you really thought you could wonder around all these years without your mother knowing a thing?" nether of you could hide your surprise. "I don't care that your gay, Emily, could i please come in now? I could really use a glass of wine, I hope I'm interrupting something now, of course".

Your girlfriend and you look at each other in awe "No, not at all" you both say at unison, and you can feel yourself blushing when you realize your shirt was still open this whole time.

You let the woman in, and Emily and her move to sit on the couch as you go to the kitchen to serve her another glass of wine, and grab yours.

"Here, Ambassador" you say, offering her a glass

"Oh please, call me Elisabeth" she says to your surprise, accepting the wine. You and Emily smile at each other as you move to sit next to her.

You knew you were in for a long night, just not the kind you had expected.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:

#wlw #lesbian #lesbian pride #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x reader fluff #emily prentiss lesbian #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds 2x20 #emily prentiss imagine #bisexual reader

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bradshawsbaby · 4 months

Text

Letters to My Love // Part X

Rosie the Riveter

Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: I'm so sorry for how long it's taken me to update this story! One of my goals for 2024 is to get this series completed. Although it's taken me so long to update, Bobby and Peach are never far from my mind and are always in my heart. I hope you enjoy this latest installment of their story!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter is obviously a tribute to the iconic figure of Rosie the Riveter. But it was also inspired by the song of the same name by The Four Vagabonds, which you can listen to here!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, Clara (@luminousnotmatter). She was the first person to listen to all my endless ramblings about this universe, and she has never stopped supporting me or believing that I can get it finished. Thank you, Clara!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to casualties of war and grief, slight angst, lots and lots of fluff.

July 8, 1943

My Dearest Peach,

I want to start by saying that I’m terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to your last letter. I think I’ve worn down the paper to nearly nothing with how many times I’ve read it, but it’s been hard to get a free moment to sit and write you the response you deserve. Things are really heating up over here, and we have to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to start a new letter, only for us to be called up just as I set my pen to the paper.

To set your mind at ease, I want you to know that I’m alright. I’m not sure how much information they’re sharing with you all back home, but I know one of the fellas got a letter from his wife recently and she told him that three different families on their street got notified that their boys had been killed in action in just one week. It made her real scared that she was going to be the next one getting a knock on the door. I won’t lie to you, Peach, because I don’t think that’s fair—we’re losing a lot of men over here. It’s scary to think that any day now, it could be me they’re sending a flag home for.

I hate to start this letter off so morbidly, but there’s been something weighing on my mind lately, especially since my buddy got that letter from his wife. If anything happens to me over here, you won’t know. They’ll tell my family, sure, but not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you waiting for another letter that isn’t going to come. So I’ve spoken to Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny about it. If anything happens to me over here, Peach, they’re going to write to you and let you know. It gives me some comfort to think that their words will be a little softer and kinder than the formality of Uncle Sam.

I hope this doesn’t make you sad, Peach, although I admit it makes me a bit sad to write. The truth is, I’m quite alright right now, like I said, and I don’t plan on letting anything happen to me over here. We have to take that drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier, after all. I tell you, that thought alone is enough to get me through even the hardest days over here.

Alright, enough of all this. Time to get back to your lovely letter. They’re calling us for dinner right now, but as soon as I’m finished, I’m coming right back to continue this letter. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting it to you.

I’m back, Peach. All the fellas were teasing me in the galley because of how quickly I scarfed down my dinner, but I didn’t care because I knew I was getting back to you and your sweet words, and that means a whole lot more than the crummy food they’re serving over here. Boy, I tell you, I sure do miss home-cooked meals. They even had—I’m not lying, I promise—they even had peach cobbler for dessert tonight. It made me think of you, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as the cobbler your family makes, so I didn’t even bother giving it a taste.

Now I do have to say that you’re right, of course. I hate hearing you call yourself shy and mousey. If that’s the way you feel when I call myself boring, then I certainly promise I won’t ever do it again. It’s a deal—neither of us will talk about ourselves like that anymore.

Nothing you say could ever sound silly to me, Peach. Even though we only got to spend a few hours in each other’s company, your letters have made me feel like we’ve known each other for years and years. I’m honored that I’ve been able to make you feel seen. I do see you, Peach. You’re the most beautiful, interesting, intelligent girl I’ve ever known, and I hope you can see that in yourself. For what it’s worth, you’ve helped me to come out of my shell, too. Paul was just saying the other day that I look like a new man—that I’m standing taller and seem more confident than he’s ever seen in all the years he’s known me. I had just finished reading one of your letters when he said that. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. You’re turning me into a new man, Peach, and I like it. I like it a lot.

I’m glad that you passed along my well wishes to Emily. Even though part of me still thinks her fiancé is a dunce, I do wish them all the best. Has she heard from Eddie? I don’t know where he’s stationed, but if you’d like to find out and send the information to me, I can try to keep an ear out. How has the wedding planning been going? I’m still confident you’re going to make the prettiest bridesmaid.

I did pass along your invitation in my last letter home to my family, and my mother said she would certainly inquire after the Sheridan residence should she ever happen to find herself in Charleston. I think she’s happy that you and I are still writing to each other. She’s even happier about the thought of swapping recipes with you. Watch out—if the two of you ever do meet, I think she’ll hold you hostage in the kitchen all day.

Now I am very proud to hear about all the fine work you and Dottie have been doing with your Victory Garden. I’m sure there must have been a lot of progress since you last wrote to me! I eagerly await news about the beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. I’m sure you’ve been able to make lots of hearty soups and healthy salads. My mouth is watering at the notion. Like I said, the food in the galley has been pretty crummy lately.

I’m sorry to hear there’s been some trouble back home. I’m sure it can’t be easy for anyone, with all the rationing and the fear and the worry. I promise that we’re doing our best over here to bring this war to an end quickly so that life can return to normal for all of you over there. For us, too. We really can’t wait to be home again.

Peach, I want you to know that it is our duty, our honor, and, quite frankly, our privilege to be fighting for you over here. I know the other fellas would agree with me saying so. So I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything at home to “earn” us fighting for you. That said, I think it’s incredible that you want to contribute to the war effort in that way. I’m sure you haven’t been waiting for my response or my approval—which you shouldn’t, by the way—but I give a wholehearted yes to you applying for that position at the air station. We just recently saw Mr. Norman Rockwell’s illustration of Rosie the Riveter on the cover of the Post, and I have to say that I think you’d wear those coveralls a hundred times better.

I’m so proud of you, Peach. I want you to know that.

Speaking of the war effort, we have a couple big campaigns coming up very soon. I can’t say much more than that, but your well wishes and prayers for success would be very much appreciated. I’m always thankful for them.

Until next time, Peach! I’m already counting down the days until your next letter arrives.

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

P.S. I almost forgot! I told Paul how much you loved the fact that he sends drawings home to Clara and Paul, Jr.—by the way, that reminds me, how is little Frankie doing?—and he was more than happy to create a few illustrations for you. He did a couple portraits—one of me and one of you, based off your beautiful photograph. He said to apologize that he’s too much of an amateur to capture all of your beauty. He did say that he thought he did a fine enough job capturing my likeness—I’m telling you, Peach, I think my friends officially like you better than they like me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

July 31, 1943

My Dearest Bobby,

Please don’t ever feel like you need to apologize for how long it takes you to write back to me. I can only imagine how difficult it is to find the time to write with everything that must be happening over there, and yet you always find the time to pen the most thoughtful and wonderful letters. I cherish each and every one of them, and I promise that I’m more than content to read your old letters as I await the new ones.

I’m so sorry to hear about how many of our boys we’re losing. Just last week, our neighbors, the Pattersons—you remember I mentioned Mrs. Patterson had helped me and Dottie with our Victory Garden?—received news that their son, Clarence was killed in action in France. It was devastating. Dottie and I had just been coming home from the grocery store when we saw the officer standing on their front steps with a telegram in hand. We knew what that meant. Mrs. Patterson has been inconsolable since. Mr. Patterson is equally devastated, but I think he’s trying to be strong for her. Dottie and I have been taking turns cooking meals for them and spending some time over at their house. We just want them to know that they’re not alone.

I admit, Bobby, that every time I hear news of someone else being lost in this war, I immediately think of you. It feels selfish, but I’m always so relieved when the news is about someone else and not you. I don’t know how I would bear it. I pray every day that I never have to receive that letter from Paul or Tommy Boy or Benny, but I am touched that you’ve thought about how I could be notified. Oh, Bobby, I hope more than anything that your parents never have to experience what the Pattersons are going through.

But you’re right—you’re going to come home safely. We have too many plans for you to do otherwise!

I’m sorry to hear that the food aboard your carrier has been so crummy lately. I wish that I could whip up a home-cooked feast and send it in the mail with my letters. Every time I sit down to dinner now, I think of all of you, and I count my blessings. Things aren’t perfect on the homefront, but I know that we certainly have no room to complain with all you boys are going through. I promise to have a peach cobbler waiting for you when you come home—and a pumpkin pie, for good measure.

If I’m turning you into a new man, Bobby, then you simply must know that you’re turning me into a new woman as well. I hardly remember the girl that I was before I met you. Can you believe that it’s been over a year now since our paths first crossed? I feel like my life is totally different now. The way that I see myself, the way I interact with others, the way that I’m not so terrified to step out of my comfort zone anymore—so much of that is thanks to you, Bobby. I’m still me, of course. But I feel like I’m a stronger, braver version of myself now. I like it, too.

It’s so kind of you to offer to keep an ear out for Eddie’s infantry! Emily received a letter from him around the same time that I received my letter from you, and he seems to be doing well, same as you, thank goodness. Eddie is part of the 1st Infantry Division. Emily said that last she knew, he was stationed somewhere near the Rhineland. The wedding planning has been going very well. Pretty much everything is set now—all we need is the groom. Emily can’t wait for Eddie to come home for good. Once he does, they’ll be able to officially set the date. Us bridesmaids are going to be wearing lilac-colored dresses. Dottie says she already knows how she’s going to style my hair. I hope that you’re home, too, when the wedding finally happens. Emily said that I could invite you to be my date. Only if you’d like that, of course.

I would be very happy to be kept hostage in the kitchen with your mother! I’m sure there’s so much I could learn from her, and it sounds like a splendid way to spend the day. I look forward to meeting her one of these days!

Oh, the Victory Garden, Bobby! You wouldn’t believe how it’s grown! Trust me, no one is more shocked than me and Dottie. Well, maybe Paddy. He knows firsthand what brown thumbs my sister and I normally have. At first, we weren’t so sure what was going to happen—the cucumbers seemed a bit small and some of the tomatoes didn’t really take. But by the end of June, everything was thriving! It’s been such a joy to watch, and I have to admit, both Dottie and I are feeling extremely accomplished. Frankie loves to spend time in the garden with us, although he spends a bit more time digging in the dirt than helping us pick vegetables, I’m afraid. Now that we’re in the middle of summer, we’re experimenting with zucchini and eggplant. We might also try radishes and turnips. We’re turning into quite the farmers! If your mother has any recipes to share, we’d be more than grateful and happy to try them out!

Now I admit that I’ve saved the most exciting news for last. At the beginning of June, I decided to go for it and I applied for the position at the air station in Goose Creek, the one Paddy told me about. I’m sure being his sister-in-law gave me a bit of an advantage, but it only took a couple days for me to hear back from them. I got the job! I’ve officially been working on the assembly line since the middle of June. It’s hard work, and I’ve never been so tired in all my life, but I have to say that I’m really proud of the work we’re doing. It’s funny that you mention Rosie the Riveter—my job these past few weeks has actually been to fasten pieces of the planes we’re assembling with rivets! So I guess you could call me Peach the Riveter. Doesn’t have quite the same ring though, does it?

I know that the chances are small that anything I’m helping to build is going to reach you specifically, Bobby, but I can’t help but smile every time we finish a new part, or get a new plane put together. I imagine you and Paul, or Tommy Boy or Benny hopping inside and it brings me more pleasure and pride than I could possibly explain. I feel like I’m doing something important, something meaningful and special. If spending hours riveting until my fingers turn numb brings you home even a day faster, then it will all have been worth it. And it gives me a real sense of purpose, driving to work each day with Paddy. I feel proud of myself.

I’ve made some new friends at work, too! Florence and Virginia—we call them Florie and Ginny—are the loveliest, kindest girls. They had already been working on the assembly line for a few months before I got the job, so they’ve been showing me the ropes and teaching me everything they know. They’ve made me feel so welcome, so a part of things. I have to admit that I was terrified my first week or so, terrified that I was going to mess something up or make a fool of myself. But I’ve settled in quite well, thankfully.

It means a lot to me to know that I have your support, Bobby. Truly, it does. Thinking of you and all that you’re doing to protect us is what really motivated me to take this job, so thank you.

Of course I’m sending all my best wishes for the campaigns you have coming up! Wherever you are right now, I pray that you’re safe and that your missions are successful.

You’re so brave, Bobby. Have I told you that lately? Even if I have, you deserve to hear it again. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re my hero.

I hope this letter gets to you soon. I wish it could grow wings and fly to you. I know time is going to pass so slowly until I’m holding a new letter from you in my hands. But until then, Bobby, I’m thinking of you and holding you in my heart.

Most Truly and Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. Paul is quite the artist!!! I now have his portraits hanging right beside the photographs you sent me. Please tell him how talented I think he is, and how much I love the drawings he made for me! I was especially touched by the little note he wrote me on the back of your portrait. I hope he’s doing well. Send my best to him and Tommy Boy and Benny!

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