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#and tomorrow is mom's birthday - miss you mom- love you
macfrog · 13 days
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sweet child o' mine | pt. iv
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to @mrsmando - without whom this insane story would never have happened in the first place. i love you i love you i love you thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me - it has been a blast. i hope you like where we turn out! love you guys always n forever x
pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary: you're a mom. it's time to get your shit together.
warnings: bon jovi mention straight out the gate, labor/delivery [i have never given birth. those of you who have are nothing short of remarkable. please forgive if some of this is a little inaccurate or vague], use of pain medication during birth, description of pain and post-birth recovery, super emotional reader, unprotected piv, oral, alcohol consumption. DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.
word count: 12k
pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵
It’s September twenty-third.
Well, by now, it’s probably the twenty-fourth. You’ve been a little distracted, rolling between the sheets with your next-door neighbor for the last couple hours.
The wedding’s still going strong downstairs. The same Bon Jovi song has played three times over. Tommy has called Joel to ask where he is so much that Joel’s phone is now switched off and shoved to the bottom of his bag.
You’re slouched on the toilet in a sliver of moonlight. A fistful of tissue, panties loose around your ankles. Rolling your forehead side to side along the cool tile, heartbeat hammering between your temples.
Joel Miller – Joel fucking Miller – is in your bed. Naked, sweating, cock probably still half-hard.
This morning, the very idea of the man was an eyeroll. Stood in your mirror, promising yourself that this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.
This time in a month, it’ll be a foggy memory.
This time in a year, it –
His voice is muffled through the bathroom door. “Did you fall in, or somethin’?”
You snort. The milky moon blurs across your vision when you pull yourself upright. You swipe between your legs and stand, flushing the toilet.
“I needed a fucking breather,” you tease, tiptoeing back across the room.
Joel’s stretched out; a worked arm draped along the headboard. Sun-kissed to the middle of his bicep, paler across his shoulder. One leg bare on the mattress, the other under the sheets. They only just cover his modesty – dark hair trailing beneath light silk just in time.
He’s so big. It’s like you never really noticed until now. He takes up half the bed, laying like this. And sure, you’re halfway to fucked, but – has he always been so handsome?
You flop down beside him with a sigh, curling up in the burrow of sheets at his side. Your eyes trail up his body – the sheen of sweat up his side, the dark, damp hair under his arm. All the parts of him you’ve never seen before, will never see again.
You gulp. Quit fucking staring.
He doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s rubbing circles into his temples, grumbling. “How many goddamn times are they gonna play It’s My Life?”
“…for Tommy and Gina…” you nudge him, “…who never backed down…”
Joel chuckles, pulling his hand down his beard. “Twenty bucks says he’s changing that to Maria.”
“Oh, for sure. I ain’t going back down to listen to it, though.”
He hums in agreement, reaching over for his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks.
“You owe me, by the way. This is my room, remember? My fucking minibar.”
He pauses, the bottle against his bottom lip. His eyes linger south of your chin before he answers, “I’m paying for the damn room.”
“Then I want a drink from yours. Make it even.”
He clicks his teeth and drinks again. “It’s one beer. Call it an early birthday gift.”
You frown. “When the hell’s your birthday?”
“Tuesday.”
“Bullshit.”
“Serious. The twenty-sixth.”
You push yourself up onto your elbows; chest bare and on display. And it’s a strange feeling, how little you care. Twelve hours ago, you didn’t know how close to sit next to him at the ceremony. How many times you could accidentally bump knees or brush elbows and it not be weird.
But in the last two hours, he’s made you come more times than you can count. More times than anyone you’ve ever been with before – that’s for sure. And you’ve repaid the favor: the proof is still dribbling out of you. Still dripping between your legs, all pearlescent and warm. You’re soaked, swollen, still sore from the size of him.
It’s a fucking strange feeling, that you don’t mind at all.
“How old are you turning?” you ask.
Joel swallows. He settles the beer on his sternum, thumbing the corner of the label. Sucks in a deep breath and says, “Forty-eight.”
“Jesus,” you mutter, eyes wide.
He turns slowly, glaring at you. “Hilarious,” he drawls, bumping the bottle against your tummy.
You hiss at the sudden chill. Wiping cold droplets from your skin, you swipe it from his grasp.
Joel pushes himself from the bed with a quiet groan and pads across the room. His cock sways with each step, an arrowhead of thick hair at its base.
He doesn’t seem to mind, either.
You tip your chin back, taking a hefty swig.
The pulsing bass is heavier, guitar squeal sharper, when he cracks open the window. Cool air sweeps past the scent of sex and settles softly on your skin.
The mattress dips again as Joel settles back into bed. He pulls the sheet over himself, silk falling over the stubborn shape against his thigh.
“Well,” you pass him the bottle, “happy birthday, old man. Here’s to forty-eight.”
“Here’s to forty-eight,” Joel echoes, staring off into space, “and whatever the hell it has in store.”
1:29. 1:29. 1:30.
It’s blurring across your vision. The pain and the panic and the blinking of your fucking alarm clock.
Your stomach is still tensed in the aftermath of the contraction; an ache like the slow sway of the ocean, a wave rolling off into the distance. You’re hunched over the edge of the bed – knee bouncing, palms kneading your round belly.
“We’re okay,” you whisper, blowing into the still night. “We’re fine. Maybe it isn’t labor, right? Maybe it’s just those…Braxton…shit…Hicks.”
The cicadas laugh as your uterus swings again.
Another kick of pain; a bolt that winds you, piercing from your stomach down between your legs. So slow it feels fucking personal.
Your back curls, nails digging into the mattress. You grit your teeth until it passes, then push yourself to your feet, reaching for your phone.
You think of Joel: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the rough surface of his palms. The fresh, woodsy scent woven into every thread on his shirt, seeping from every pore on his skin.
The way he’d pull you under his arm and walk you to his truck. Play more Eagles or whatever shit he has to take your mind off the pain – tell you he knows, he knows as you whimper in agony. The way he’d hold your thigh the entire ride, loosening it only to weave his fingers through yours.
He’s in Houston, though. He’s something like three hours away. There’s nothing he could do, even if you did call – even if he did pick up. Even if he got in his truck right this second.
Shit. Shit fuck shit. How are you in labor right now, on this fucking night? All your teasing, all your taunting the universe. You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?
Yeah. They’re half you.
You’re on your own. It’s nothing new; you’ve been on your own for most of your life. You drove yourself to college, worked your ass off, and sold your graduation guest tickets to your roommate. You found a job by yourself, moved back to Austin and turned it into home by yourself.
You haven’t needed anyone or anything, since you were eighteen.
But – oh, Jesus, fuck it. This was a two-man job from the start. Some things you figure you can let slide – and having a kid seems like a pretty decent excuse.
Fuck it.
You move, hunched and hobbling, to the bathroom door. Slumped against the wooden frame, you cup a hand between your legs.
Sure enough, your underwear is soaked. The fluid trickles down the seam of your thigh, warm and thin. It glistens in the moonlight when you lift your fingers.
“Shit,” you whisper. “Goddamn it, Duck.”
Body tingling and almost numb with pain, you scroll through your contacts to J. You stumble into the bathroom, wet fingers slipping around the sink. A weight begins to pull low between your hips.
Two rings and the tone cuts, his voice instantly spilling a cool comfort down your spine.
There’s no hello, no double checking that you haven’t accidentally dialed him in your sleep. Only that trademark drawl, that flat tone you’d swear sounded bored, if it weren’t for the haste with which Joel asks, “You okay?” the second he answers.
As if he were awake anyway, just waiting for your call.
“Yeah,” you choke, rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just called at one in the morning to…to say hi.”
He sighs, the crackle of breath echoed by the tinkle of wind chimes. The creak of wood as he settles into a chair on Vanessa’s parents’ porch. “Alright, smartass. What is it?”
“I’m…I’m in labor.”
“Mhm. That sure is funny, baby. Good one.”
You groan. “No, Joel, I swear – I swear, I just went into labor.”
He pauses. The chimes titter in the background. “You’re…You ain’t kidding me?”
The sharp peak of pain swipes the air clean from your lungs. The phone hits the sink with a clatter, drowning out your cry.
This kid is beating the ever-loving shit out of you. You’d be embarrassed if you had the energy to think about it.
“Baby?” Joel yells, loud enough that the sound loops around the bowl. His voice lifts to an octave you didn’t know it could reach. “Talk to me. Please, talk to me.”
Your fingers clamp around the phone. “I’m f-fine. It’s fine. I just gotta…gotta change my fuckin’ sheets, Joel, my waters broke while I was sleeping –”
“Oh, Christ,” he growls. The door squeals as he storms back into Vanessa’s family home. “The sh…Change the goddamn sheets? You gotta get to a hospital, darlin’!”
You laugh, head tipping back. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Feels like the kid’s trying to kill me, but I can – shit, I can take ‘em.”
There’s the jangle of keys, the ruffle of a shirt being thrown over his head. “Yeah?” Joel says.“You can take childbirth, all on your own? Do me a favor and call a damn ambulance, baby.”
“An ambulance,” you repeat, laughing again.
“Yes, an ambulance. Call 9-1-1 right now. You want me to call ‘em? Let me go grab the landline –”
“Joel, do not call an ambulance –”
And if you thought you’d heard him at breaking point before – plucking your underwear from his lawn, dragging you around Home Depot, paling in your room with a pregnancy test in his hands – you know you have, now.
“You gotta get to a goddamn hospital now, baby!”
His voice trembles at its end, quivers like the pluck of a guitar string. A high-pitched echo, a nervous vibration.
Joel’s panicking.
It’s the second thing in less than five minutes that you never knew he could do.
“I can’t afford a f-fucking ambulance, Joel,” you yelp, sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.
“I will pay for it,” he pleads, “I’ll pay. Just – you gotta call them. You gotta…” He sighs again, breath wavering. “You’re in labor, and you’re alone. If anything happened to you, I –”
A hushed voice interrupts him. Follows him through the house, knotting her nightgown around her waist and twisting her dark tresses into a ponytail.
“She’s in labor,” Joel tells her. “I can’t stay. I’m going back for her.”
The porch door slams shut before Vanessa can reply, and Joel’s back outside again. Gravel crunching beneath his boots, crickets screaming in the background. “Still with me?” he asks.
“Still here,” you breathe, tracing your nails along your leg. “Duckie says hi, I guess.”
He hums. “Hi, Duckie. You little shit.”
You rock back and forth, eyes closed. Breathing between contractions, your head low between your shoulders. “How long will you be?”
The truck door creaks open. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll be…Fuck, I’ll be a couple hours, at least. I’m on my way, alright?”
Tears drip onto your bare thighs, the salt spilling into your mouth. “Joel,” you shake your head, “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he says. “Are you kidding? Got us this far ‘n now you want to bail? That ain’t you, baby. Come on, now.”
“I wanna bail,” you insist. You slump to the floor, head lolling over the rim of the bathtub. Weeping like a little kid. “I’m scared, Joel. I’m so scared.”
“I know you are. Lord knows I’m scared, too – scared as hell. But –” the engine roars to life, “– I can’t wait to finally meet this kid. Our kid. Can’t wait to hold ‘em. Can’t wait to see you become a mom, and me become a dad.”
“Mom and Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.
“Mom and Dad, right? Yeah. You can do this. I know you can.”
The bathroom blurs behind your tears. You close your eyes, replacing the pale night with warmer dawn. Replacing it with images of tiny hands and feet; missing front teeth and a love-worn teddy tucked safely into bed.
Joel’s voice is softer, kinder. Calmer, now that he’s closing the hundred and fifty miles between the two of you.
“Just – don’t let the kid give you any shit, alright?”
The fear boils into determination. Something more irritating than it is terrifying. You inhale, blowing a heavy, shuddered breath to the ceiling. “Whatever, Miller.”
“Attagirl,” he says. “That’s the spirit. Now, call a damn ambulance.”
With a scoff, you push yourself to your feet, waddling towards the foot of your bed. You sway back and forth, holding your bump and listening to the hum of Joel’s truck.
And then you hear it.
Three sharp raps, from downstairs.
You wander to the hallway, squinting in the dark. “Joel?”
“Hm?”
“Are you…?”
The sound grows louder the nearer you draw. Quick knuckles against your front door.
“Am I what, darlin’?”
You lower yourself down the stairs, fist tight around the rail.
It’s August again. Sun’s encore blazing through your kitchen windows, bleeding golden through your living room. Everything shining, everything new and untouched.
Knock knock knock.
Light satin, duck egg blue; string lights and a diamond-encrusted necklace. The bones of your wardrobe propped against your porch. A rattling toolbox hanging from his fist, a positive pregnancy test in yours.
The knocking halts when you flick the porch light on. She calls your name once, old voice quivering.
Your phone is still glued to your ear as you pull the door open. “Al…?”
She squints at you and lifts a hand to shield from the light. She’s still in her pajamas – green dressing gown loose and lifting in the breeze.
Her eyes drop to the tee draped over your bump, the silver stream of fluid down the inside of your thigh. As she opens her mouth to speak, your hand slams into the doorpost.
“Oh, fuck,” you groan, and Alice Brown steps straight over the threshold.
“Are you in labor? Oh, sweetie. Sit down, sit.”
She backs you towards the stairs. One bony, trembling hand around yours – squeezing as tight as you are. She rubs up and down your spine, shushing until the pain subsides.
You blink up at her glowing figure, haloed by the porch light outside. “How did you…?”
She hushes you with a finger in the air. “I’m up most nights. I heard you from the window. Have you called 9-1-1?”
You shake your head, beginning to cry again.
Alice just nods, dismissing your bullshit. “Where’s your overnight bag, sweetheart?”
You toss a thumb over your shoulder. “It’s up in the nursery. I can go grab it –”
She holds you still with a hand on your shoulder. “Stay.” Another curt nod, then, “Get your shoes, get yourself over to my car. Do you need pants? You need pants. My car, right now.”
“Alice, you really don’t have to –”
“Get in the car,” she insists, climbing past you. “I’m right behind you!”
You watch her figure dissolve into the dim upstairs, and lift the phone back to your ear. “Did you…hear all that?”
“Alice Brown,” Joel replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d I tell ya? That woman doesn’t miss a goddamn thing in this neighborhood.”
“Three centimeters,” the obstetrician says, covering your legs with the sheet. “Still a little ways to go.”
The suite is hushed and still. Walls an unoffending shade of oatmeal; decorated only with oak paneling and a framed painting of some lilies.
A nurse tilts the shades, averting the twinkling city lights in the distance. She turns and smiles – the same fucking smile everyone’s been giving you since you set foot in the place. Head tilted, brows arched.
Sympathy that you want to chew up and spit back out at their feet.
You force yourself to smile in return, and she floats back out to the bustling reception.
“Will he make it?” Alice asks. She’s still in her pajamas; the floral print goes well with the interior of the room. “The father, I mean. Joel.”
The obstetrician peels the gloves from her hands. She shrugs as she drops them into a wastebin. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “Things are moving a little quickly, but I don’t see you having your baby in the next couple hours.”
“You don’t know this kid like I do,” you groan, shifting in the bed.
She lifts the cardiotocograph reading, scanning the jagged lines. “You’re doing great,” she says. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just holler if you need anything.” She strolls off, letting the door sweep shut behind her.
Alice adjusts your pillow and squeezes your shoulder. She holds out a cup of water, guiding the straw to your lips. “He’ll be here,” she whispers.
You take a sip and settle back. “I don’t think I’m that lucky. I told him I hoped he’d get a flat on the ride there. This feels like karma.”
“Well, if it’s anyone’s karma –” she wiggles her fingers, “– it’s his. Going to Houston was ridiculous in the first place. Hell, you two not being together is ridiculous.”
You scoff, shaking your head. “Just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean we should be together. You shouldn’t be with someone for the sake of a baby who won’t even know any different.”
“Right, right,” Alice agrees, turning away. “You should only be with someone if you love them.”
“Exactly. And me and Joel – we’re not in love.”
She murmurs to herself. She lowers into a chair by the window, crossing her arms. “I’m seventy-three,” she says. “I’m not a damn fool.”
Something twists awkwardly between your hips. You wince, clutching your bump.
Duckie’s heartbeat pulses through the room. Muffled little bubbles of noise, popping one after the other. Strong and steady as hell – a determined little thing, the doctor said.
Don’t I fucking know it, you thought.
You reach for the silicone mask and cup it over your mouth. The gas is cold and funny when you inhale, feeling it shoot straight for the back of your skull. It does little more than dull the spiking pain, but still – you tip your head back, eyes rolling closed.
You let yourself fade from the suite – its yellow lamplight and hushed chatter outside – to somewhere warmer. Somewhere brighter.
Birdsong high overhead, and the whispering leaves on the oak trees in your yard. The sweet breeze on your skin, soothing the sting of the sun. Prickling wood on your fingertips, the gentle strum of a guitar somewhere beyond the fence.
Peering between the slats, catching glimpses of him like watching a film reel. His head nodding, his foot tapping. The concentration tight on his face; the perfect pick and pluck of his fingers on each string.
Half-hoping that he’ll spot you, scold you for spying and storm back into his house. That he might bring it up later – And another thing, while he whips his newspaper from your grasp, ignoring your cackling.
Half-hoping that he won’t. That he’ll sit there at his back door, bottle of beer at his feet, playing to his audience of sparrows.
And you’ll stand here, wishing you could ask the name of each song he hums.
The contraction splits your daydream in two.
In two hours, you dilate almost three centimeters.
You pace back and forth across the suite, pausing only when your womb clenches like a fist. The contractions are lasting longer, swinging lower, and punching harder. They’re giving you less recovery time; less of a chance to get back on your feet.
It’s a fucking nightmare.
Joel’s still not here. Last you heard, he’d just hit Travis County. Twenty minutes, baby, I promise. That was half an hour ago.
It might be for the better that he hasn’t gotten here. You’ve warned Alice three times already that you might just beat the shit out of him, whenever he walks through that door.
And you know what, sweetheart? She chuckled. I bet you could beat the shit out of him, sore as you are.
“Fuck,” you cry out, collapsing onto the bed. You stretch out forward, head hanging between your shoulders, and gulp back more of the laughing gas. The ache barrels from your stomach to your hips, peaking in the very center.
Alice rubs circles into the small of your back. It’s not helping, but you let her do it anyways. Gives her something to tell the neighbors that isn’t damaging to your reputation.
“That’s it,” she coos. “A little longer, just a little…”
The door clicks open just as the tense band begins to loosen.
Your head is spinning. The mask slips from your fingers.
Alice’s hand pauses. “…a little longer…” she repeats, voice drifting. Her weight leaves your back, replaced by something heavier, stronger.
Safer.
Someone grounding, someone smelling of pine and sweet spice.
He sits on the bed at your back and curves around your body. Lips to your shoulder like the sun in your backyard. His beard scratches against your hot skin.
You blink your eyes open.
Joel’s watch face winks back at you. His hands are over yours – bigger, wider. His fists swallow yours whole. They turn, slipping beneath your palms, and your fingers lace together.
“Joel…” you breathe, face turning in to his neck.
“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, wiping sweat from your brow.
You fall limp against his chest. “Holy shit.”
He looks exhausted. Gray, almost translucent. Looks like he’s just driven a couple hundred miles, half asleep and wholly panicked.
But – he’s here. He made it.
The sight of him, the feel of him holding you upright, melts away any anger or resolve to fight back. For now, at least. Picking an argument can wait until there isn’t a human splitting you in two.
He’s here. You’re not doing this alone.
“Holy shit,” Joel repeats. “You okay?”
“How did you get here so –?”
“Ninety-five the entire way.”
You frown. “Only ninety-five?”
“Trunk’s a hunk a’ shit,” he admits. “Couldn’t break a hundred.”
Alice scoffs, somewhere across the room.
He cradles you, his lips to your forehead. “Where we at?” he asks, staring at the paper churning from the cardiotocograph.
“Five, almost s–shit – six centimeters.” You clamp down on his hands, your uterus winding again.
Joel holds the mask back to your lips and you suck another chemical breath in. “Six? Jesus,” he gapes at Alice, “ain’t that…ain’t that real fast? For – for your first?”
Your fingers are weak and shaky, resting on his knuckles. “Your kid has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter into the silicone.
“That ain’t from me,” he says. “That’s all you, maestro.”
You turn closer into his shirt with a groan. He’s solid as a rock, swaying you through it. He’s here.
Alice swipes her coat from a hook by the door. She shakes her head, pulling it over her shoulders. “Ninety-five, Joel? Sweet Lord.”
He rolls his eyes. His hand curves around your bump. “Had a little bit of an emergency, Alice,” he says, watching your face twist with pain.
“And what if you’d had an accident?”
“I didn’t, Alice.”
“You could’ve, goin’ that damn fast. You’re lucky you’re even here.”
Joel finally looks up. “It’s four in the mornin’,” he protests, like a teenager. “Lucky if I passed five cars.”
You give him a weak smile, lowering the mask. You won’t win, you mouth.
He presses his lips to your head. “’s too much fun,” he murmurs, and you snort.
“Oh!” Alice throws a hand up. “I’m glad you find it funny!” She buttons her coat and glares back at both of you, hands on her hips.
She’s a busybody – has been since before you even moved in. She showed up on your doorstep on your first night with a casserole in hand, and made sure to get a good look at your living room before she shuffled back to her own place.
Always watching, always listening.
You never thought you’d see the day when you’d actually be thankful for her snoopiness.
“Thank you, Alice,” you say, head tilting. “For getting me here, for holding my hand…Thank you.”
Her expression thaws, eyes gleaming. With a sniff, she composes herself – and then points to Joel. “You call me as soon as that baby arrives. I won’t sleep, Joel, until you call.”
“I’ll call,” he assures.
She looks back at you. Balls her crepe paper fists, gives them a hearty shake. “Good luck, Mom,” she says, and with one last glance, slips out of the room.
Joel turns back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Take it she was out tendin’ to her tulips again?”
“Yeah,” you snicker, “one in the morning, those fuckers had to be watered.”
He chuckles. “You feelin’ okay?”
“Better now,” you tell him.
“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. A goddamn idiot, headin’ off like that. So damn stupid.”
“Shh, you’re here now.” You wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I just needed you to be here.”
He nods. “I’m here, whatever you need. Tell me what I can do.”
You take a deep breath. “I need…”
Joel straightens – bracing, ready to jump at your first request.
“…I need a fucking break, Joel. I’m so tired, and this fucking kid –”
“Alright,” he sighs, shifting from behind you. “You and your goddamn jokes.”
You smirk, looking over your shoulder. “You missed me.”
“Hm,” he fixes the neckline of your gown, “I missed you. I really did.”
Born at 07:43. It’s a girl.
It’s like being broken open. Like splitting at the seams; your old self falling from you like shards of fruit. Separating, rolling apart; making way for someone older, wiser. Someone with all of the answers in the palm of her hand.
Mom.
You finally get it. She turns to you, finally glances over her shoulder. And she’s no stranger – no one you haven’t known your entire life. I know you, you whisper, nail trailing her smile lines and the pimples along her jaw.
I see you every time I look in the mirror.
Duckie is pulled from your body with a scream like bloody murder – a scream which matches the whimper you let out in shock, if not in volume.
The kid can scream. Jesus Christ, she can scream. It pierces the dull room; deafens you for a couple seconds the first time you hear it.
You’ve never heard a sound so fucking beautiful.
She wails as they lift her from your body. All curled-up, wriggling in the midwife’s arms. She wails as they slot her beneath your chin, as they wipe the blood and amniotic fluid from her.
She wails until the moment her skin meets yours, and as though it’s all you’ve ever known, you begin shushing her cries. Your arms close around her body, rocking her until she settles.
Her tiny hand grabs for something, for someone, for –
You.
Her mom.
“Joel,” you gasp, watching her tiny, pruned fingers clasp tight around just one of yours. “She’s…she’s so small…”
He sniffs in reply, lifting his hand from your shoulder to wipe his face.
You turn to look up at him.
He looks as broken open as you feel. Eyes bloodshot and soaking, tears streaming into his thick beard. A sob in his throat which chokes and silences him, until he catches your eye and he can’t help but laugh with elation.
“Look at her,” he weeps, all torn up by the little girl in your arms. He presses his lips to your forehead in a crash of a kiss: wet, soaking wet on your skin.
You beam up at him when he pulls away. “We did it,” you whisper.
Joel shakes his head. He runs a thumb across the damp print left on your head. “You did it, honey,” he mutters. “I was nothin’ but a spectator.”
“You almost missed the game,” you quip, and he laughs again.
Your body throbs; nearly numb with pain, heavy with fatigue and emotion. But as long as she’s here, this tiny tornado of a girl, you don’t feel a thing.
Clenching and then unclenching her fist around your finger – so delicate compared to the punches she was throwing at your ribs just six hours ago. She’s worth every fucking second of it.
You finally fucking get it.
She fits so perfectly in the crook of your arm. It feels as though your body was made just to hold her – the very shape of you, designed especially for the very shape of her.
You wonder whether it was the same for your mom. Whether you came along and made her feel whole, for the first time in her life.
Duckie’s eyes open – all glossy and brand new, blinking up at the both of you like she needed no introduction. She already knows you, from the inside out. Her dad’s graying beard, the threads of silver around his temples. Her mom’s tear-stained cheeks, eyes red and bleary with sleeplessness and pure love.
You’re Mom, you’re Dad.
It’s all she’s ever known.
The pillow sighs as you lean back into it. The doctor begins repairing the damage done between your legs; threading and knitting your body back together.
You’re caught between a state of bliss and shock. Your brain is doing much the same work to itself as the woman between your knees is. Patching over all the bloody parts: the screams which tore your skin, the pain which cracked your teeth.
None of it holds a candle to the weight of her in your arms. No matter how tired you are, you can’t take your eyes off her. Her puffy cheeks, the little creases between her brows. No matter how sore, you never want to let go of her.
Joel runs a finger down Duckie’s cheek. “Ain’t she the most beautiful thing in the world?”
“I love her,” you say, bubbling again. “I love her more than anything.”
An hour old, and she’s already a daddy’s girl.
Joel ambles back and forth at the foot of your bed in the recovery suite, bouncing Duck in his arms. He’s never looked so relaxed, so natural at something. He’s never seemed so content, so peaceful.
Everything he’s ever made with his hands – structures and framework and your goddamn closet – and yet this, this tiny accident, this baby girl you were so sure you’d dreamt up right up until an hour ago –
This is the thing he’s proudest of.
Morning lifts through the windows, all soft and vanilla. It floats around him, sunlight spilling across his skin and breathing life and color into him.
Sunlight – or his daughter. They’re the same thing, anyway.
You pull apart a slice of toast, watching. Just watching. Sweet strawberry jam on your tongue, the flavor of everything sharper, fresher. The colors brighter, more vivid.
The world makes more sense like this, you think. Painted in shades of honey and ochre; a room in a corner of the world where time slows to a halt. A soft lullaby from his lips, and the little coos from hers.
The ache of love and labor lingers deep inside you, and nothing has ever made more sense.
You suck the sticky sweet from your fingertips.
Joel looks up, toying with Duckie’s hand. “You want her back?” he asks, a dumb grin on his face.
You shake your head. “I like watching you.”
He scrunches his nose, nuzzling it against his daughter’s, and whispers, “I wasn’t gonna give you back, anyways.” He sways in the early light, staring down at her. “Jesus,” he mutters, swiping at his eyes again, “I didn’t…I didn’t know I could love somethin’ this much.”
“Me, either.”
He drifts over, lowering himself slowly onto the edge of the bed. He extends his elbow, still cradling the baby, and helps you pull yourself upright.
You hiss, a not-so-subtle sting between your legs.
“You, uh…you think of a name yet?” Joel asks.
“Not yet,” you reply, hooked onto his shoulder. Duck blows a bubble and you wipe it with your knuckle. “I thought we were sticking with Duckie?”
His cheeks swell. The sun kisses the edges of his beard. “I thought of one,” he says softly. “Maybe. It’s your call.”
You yawn into his shirt, the warmth of him calm and soothing. “Alright, Miller. Hit me.”
He looks down at the baby nestled in his safe hands. The smallest thing either of you have ever seen.
The name must roll around his head a few times, the way he tilts to-and-fro – looking at her from one angle, then the next. Deciding, when he pulls back, that she suits it from every direction. Like it was her name long before he or even you knew it.
You watch his lips shape the name before you hear it.
Sarah.
And for what feels like forever, you just stare at him. The syllables lingering in the air like glistening specks of dust in a sunbeam. Your eyes follow them down to your daughter, now sleeping peacefully with two hands around one of her dad’s thumbs.
“Sarah,” you repeat, remembering whose name it was, whose name it is – whose name it has always been. “Sarah Miller.”
Joel’s shoulders lift. “What do you think? She look worthy of bein’ a Sarah?”
The rustle of tissue paper. Blue and green and purple tearing between your fingers. The funny fuzz of pom poms as your hands rummaged through the bag. Her hand swimming towards you, an orange foam fish riding the waves between her fingers. Bubbly sounds erupting from her lips.
Your girlish giggle. Her silly grin. Hopscotch along the sidewalk; stopping to look for cars before she’d walk you across the street. How much do I love you, baby girl?
More than the whole world, Mama.
“I love it,” you breathe, tears running to the corners of your mouth. “Sarah fucking Miller.”
“Sarah fuckin’ Miller,” Joel echoes; two wet lines the same as yours, curving down his cheeks. He shifts her into the crook of his arm.
You’re impossibly close. Your chin rests on his shoulder, foreheads brushing when you lean in to each other. His breath is hot on your lips, closer and closer and closer until –
He tastes like salt, rich with emotion. Salt, and then sweet when your tongue meets his. He lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, and your fingers link around his wrist.
And you know you shouldn’t be doing it – know this isn’t your man to be kissing. But in this room, where no one else can see – where it’s just you, him, and all the best parts of yourselves shaped into someone better – he feels like yours.
Just for a moment.
Joel takes the first week of Sarah’s life off work.
He spends a good twenty minutes on the phone to the contractor, talking more about the kid than he does the job. Her eyelashes, her fingernails, the way her legs scrunch anytime he lifts her up.
He’s besotted with the entire thing. And he tells everybody so.
He moves in with you both, stays in your guestroom. It’s a week of no sleep, no peace, and a total of three showers between you. Wearing the same clothes covered in spit-up and drool until one of you has the time or energy to do laundry.
It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. By your count, you’ve already cried three times to Joel – terrified you’re getting it all wrong.
But you’re doing it. Jesus God, you’re doing it.
You order takeout most nights. You can’t stand long enough to cook just yet, and you don’t trust Joel not to burn your fucking kitchen down – despite his protests. And it feels like, after everything your body’s given you, it deserves a greasy pizza and some chicken wings.
You rot on the couch together, watching shitty TV and arguing over reruns of Jeopardy! – until Sarah wakes and the whole thing begins again.
Joel loses the game of rock, paper, scissors tonight.
“Shh, baby girl. ‘s alright now, I gotcha,” he lulls, tucking her back in to her bassinet.
She fusses and stretches out; arms over her head, legs curled up. Her onesie is still a little too big – the socked feet all baggy, the sleeves rolled up her wrists.
He lingers for a moment as she drifts off, a hand stroking her tummy. Watching, always watching her. The rise and fall of her stomach, the puffs of breath from her nostrils, her lips still suckling away in her sleep.
“I swear I have a baby photo that looks just like her,” you say. “Same nose and everything.”
Joel clicks his teeth. “Got her looks from her mom. Lucky thing.”
“Low-hanging fruit,” you snort.
He drifts back over, sinking into the couch at your side. “Doin’ okay?” he asks, and you nod.
Every muscle in your body still feels like a ton weight. Your stomach is still swollen; there are still stitches between your legs. There are moments you can’t tell if you’re crying because of hormones, exhaustion, or joy.
Every time, it’s a combination of all three.
Life before feels so long ago – and it hasn’t even been a fortnight. But then you held her for the first time, and now – your arm misses the weight of her when she’s not in it. Your house feels eerily quiet when she’s not laughing, or whimpering, or screaming the fucking roof down.
You can feel your daughter growing up already, and she’s only ten days old.
On the mantelpiece, safe in a stippled gold frame, your mom beams down over her. The photo at least twenty years old, the memory even older. Laughing, the way she always was; nothing quite so funny as a joke frozen in time.
Joel prods you with his elbow. “She’d be proud of you, you know. Your mom.”
“Oh,” you scoff, “no, she’d be like, Holy shit. This kid totally kicked your ass.”
He chuckles. “Sure she did,” he shrugs, “she’s your kid.”
The TV babbles to itself across the room. In its glow, Joel meets your eye. A tiny, pearly fleck swimming in deep honey.
It’s familiar – each shade of bronze in his eyes, each thread of silver through his hair. Like you’ve mapped each and every line on his skin, collecting them like the sleepless hours between you.
Everything about him feels so normal. Burnt toast in the morning, a spoon clinking around a mug of coffee. The rustle of the newspaper, the sizzle of eggs in the pan, the baby snoring on your chest.
Everything – and yet nothing you’ve ever known.
“I miss her,” you whisper. “I miss my mom.”
His hand finds yours instantly. “I know, baby. I know you do.”
You slouch down, leaning on his shoulder, and close your eyes. Joel presses his lips to the crown of your head, his thumb looping around your knuckles.
Sarah gurgles in her sleep. She sighs – a satisfied little sound. Nothing has ever made more sense.
His voice rumbles against your skull. “Who sent the lilies?”
Your eyes flutter open. “Hm?”
Joel flicks his finger towards the window, towards a sprawl of speckled, cream flowers. “The lilies? They weren’t there this morning.”
“Oh…” You turn to look up at him, cringing.
He sees the flicker of her behind your eyes. Her lustrous curtain of hair, her perfect almond nails.
“Really?” Joel asks, mirroring your expression.
You nod, trying not to laugh. “From her and Kate. You were upstairs with Sarah when she came by. I offered to call you down, but – she just wanted to drop ‘em and go.”
“What did she…? Did she say anything?”
Your head shakes. “She just…she said congratulations, said she hoped we were okay. Then she got in her car and she left. I kinda figured things weren’t sunshine and roses, anyway. You haven’t fuckin’ seen her since Houston.”
He snorts, fingers massaging his eyes. “I was goin’ to tell you,” he mumbles into his palms, “I just…Honey, I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you mutter.
“Yes, I do,” he insists. His eyes flit over to Sarah, then back to you. “We haven’t really talked it through yet, me ‘n her. I called her a few days ago, we agreed it’s time. It – it’s past time. I shoulda called it months ago.”
“I guess,” you sigh. “Are you okay?”
Joel’s brow furrows. “’course I am. I got the most beautiful baby girl in the world,” and then, rolling his eyes, “you’re here.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you clip, batting his arm. “Vanessa could do way better, anyways.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
You squeeze his fingers, softly adding, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joel.”
He stares down at your clasped hands. He looks tired, worn out. You figure it’s not just from the newborn. But he takes a deep breath, something the color of relief dawning on his skin, and looks you dead in the eye.
“I’m not.”
­“Hey, Duckie – can you say, Happy birthday, Daddy?”
A vinyl wobbles on the turntable – some acoustic record from when Joel was a teenager. There’s wrapping paper still crumpled beneath the coffee table; four plates with more crumbs than cake left, dotted around the room.
Tommy leans in, a lopsided party hat on his head, and tickles Sarah’s chin.
She blinks at him, unamused, then scrunches her little nose and turns back into your chest.
He sighs, straightening. “She don’t like her uncle Tommy all that much,” he grumbles, sulking back over to the couch. Maria puts a consoling arm around his shoulder.
You rest your lips on Sarah’s head, breathing in her sweet scent. Swaying back and forth, you tease, “She don’t like anyone all that much, not unless they’re her daddy.”
Joel’s head lifts and he smiles, eyes glistening. He watches you and Sarah dance; laughs when you twirl her around and she tips her head back, flashing a gummy grin.
“She’ll come around to ya,” he tells Tommy, wandering over to your side. “We all learned to, eventually.”
Tommy scoffs. “Very funny, old man. Jesus.”
Joel stoops down to let Sarah run her small hands through his beard. He catches her fingertips between his lips and pretends to nibble on them.
She giggles, squirming in your arms. Her fingers find the sweeps of hair on his forehead and, taking a fistful, she tugs.
“Christ,” Joel hisses, pulling back.
“That was on you this time,” you chuckle, pointing a finger. “You know she does that, and you still fall for it.”
Maria glances down at her watch. “Is that the time?” she asks, turning to Tommy. “We should really turn in.”
“Oh – right, right.” Tommy tips the last of his beer into his mouth. “We’re takin’ Mom to brunch tomorrow. Better get some goddamn rest.”
Joel hums, still massaging his hairline. “Hey,” he whispers, elbowing you. “Maybe I should take her over. She’s getting sleepy – ain’t you, little Duck?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Tommy stands and holds a hand out. “Why don’t you let Maria and I take her? We’ll tuck her in, keep an eye on her. We weren’t half bad the other day, while y’all were at work. And if she’s stayin’ at Joel’s tonight anyway…”
You glance to Joel, who shrugs. Something shaped like Sure.
“As long as you don’t mind,” you reply, bouncing the baby slowly. “Let me go grab her things.”
Joel’s hand slips across the small of your back as you pass, making for the stairs. He lingers at the bottom, watching until you turn into the nursery with Sarah in the crook of your arm.
You set her down in her crib and gather some of her favorites: a yellow blanket, a duck comforter, a rattle shaped like an elephant. She watches contentedly as you shuffle back and forth, staring when you lean over the wooden rail.
“You know how much I love you?” you whisper, curling a finger inside her fist. She squeezes, and you say, “More than the whole world.”
She grabs at the chain dangling from your neck, the letter S catching the light. Instead, she lifts your finger to her mouth. Her nails scratch light as a feather across your skin. Her gums are tiny and soft around your knuckle.
Everything about her is tiny and soft. Her sweeping eyelashes, her plushy cheeks. Her round tummy, and the squeals she lets free as you dot kisses and blow raspberries all over it. No matter how much she’s grown in three months, she’s still so tiny.
She’ll always be the smallest, sweetest thing you’ve ever known. And she’s all yours.
“Jesus, kid,” you sniff, swiping at your tears. You slip your hands around her back and prop her on your hip. “Alright, let’s go. Quit making your mom cry.”
The bag over your shoulder, you carry her out of the room and into the dark hallway. It’s quiet downstairs; nothing but the crackle of the record player, the distant chink of dishes in the kitchen.
That – and hushed voices in the living room.
“Joel,” Tommy says, over and over again. He’s trying to cut in between his brother’s rambling. Joel – listen to me. Just listen, for one second –”
You linger on the bottom step, trying to split Joel’s voice from Tommy’s. Trying to pluck the words out, over Maria’s humming from the next room.
“…and it ain’t that simple, Tommy it’s –”
“What ain’t simple about it? You have a –” Tommy says it through his teeth, “– you have a kid together, Joel. You really think she’s gonna –”
Sarah grabs the charm around your neck and shakes suddenly, rattling the chain.
You close your hand around hers, losing your balance. “Shhhhit, Duckie, you –”
Joel’s eyes snap to your figure as you step down. He clears his throat, leaning away from Tommy. “Hey – hey, darlin’.”
“Hey,” you reply. Bright. Chipper. Unclenching your fist to let your daughter shake your necklace some more.
She squeals with delight when she spots Joel across the room.
“She ready to go?” he asks, slinging a quick – telling – look at Tommy.
You look between the brothers, browns quirking. They look as guilty as each other: scratching their beards, staring at the furniture instead of you. “Uhuh,” you reply, tongue against your teeth. “Everything…everything okay?”
Tommy slaps his thighs as he stands. “Everything’s great, sweetheart. Sure as shit. Joel – you, uh…you got a key on ya?”
“Oh, yep.” Joel reaches into his pocket. He unhooks a silver key from the chain and drops it into his brother’s open palm.
Tommy calls for Maria. He sidesteps around you, face flushed and smiling.
She floats through from the kitchen, drying her palms on her jeans. “Where’s my baby duck?” she sings, reaching for Sarah.
You pass her over and she melts into her aunt’s arms, curling up into a little pink lump on her chest. “She just had a feed, like, twenty minutes ago, so – she should go down pretty well. And there are more bottles in Joel’s fridge, if you need ‘em.”
Maria nods, wrapping Sarah’s blanket around her. She lifts the bag strap from your shoulder and hands it to Tommy. “I’ll text you as soon as she’s down. Come on, Duckie, let’s get you to bed.”
Tommy leans over and squeezes your arm, winking as he follows his wife. He calls goodnight to Joel, lifting a pointed finger over his head, and closes the door behind them.
Things could not have gone smoother.
It’s suspicious as shit.
You turn when you hear Joel shifting.
“C’mon,” he utters, a pile of plates in one hand. “I ain’t leavin’ you with this mess.” He heads through to the kitchen, broad figure swaying.
The plates spill into the sink, water trickling over them. Joel hums to himself as he gets to work with a sponge in hand.
You linger in the living room.
Things have been good lately – peaceful. You’re in as much of a routine as Sarah will allow: a steady pattern of dropping her off and picking her back up, patchwork family dinners, daytrips whenever both of you can make them.
Your body is healing, pulling itself back together. You don’t have to think about being Mom anymore – she walks in stride with you. The world is painted a new shade of normal – one where you can do anything with a baby on your hip, one where love becomes your first language.
One where you swallow back the ache in your heart, for better or for worse. The only piece of you still fractured. The only wound left open.
Joel’s birthday cards lie flat on the coffee table. You pluck them up one by one – his parents’, Tommy and Maria’s, yours – and Sarah’s.
A messy splotch of a handprint, bright yellow paint smeared across half the fucking card (she hasn’t quite mastered self-control yet). A googly eye plastered to the bird’s chest; orange crayon for the beak and legs.
Sure, you took charge for most of the project – but when he opened it and saw his daughter’s little masterpiece, you caught him swiping his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He snuggled into her, perched on his lap, and whispered, Thank you, little Duckie.
You prop them along your mantelpiece, dotted around your mom’s photo. When you step back, looking from son to brother to…a good friend, you could almost pretend.
Almost pretend that they belong here, on this mantelpiece. There is no yours and his. Just one of everything; nothing doubled nor halved.
Almost pretend that he won’t collect them as he leaves, break into another teary laugh at the sight of the duck painting, and then kiss your cheek goodnight. Promise to have your daughter back in time to go swimming tomorrow morning.
Almost.
“Hey,” Joel calls, “did you, uh – did you hear Tommy talkin’ about Jackson?”
You slip into the kitchen, side by side with him at the sink. “Uh, yeah,” you reply, lifting a towel. “Moose, pine trees. Yep.”
“It sounds beautiful. You think we should take a trip up there sometime? Could be Sarah’s first vacation.”
“You mean the three of us?”
He shrugs, scrubbing a bowl in the water. “Sure. I don’t think Duckie would let one of us stay behind, do you? She’d scream the damn airport down,” he chuckles, looking back to the twinkling bubbles.
You hum. “Maybe.”
“You don’t feel like it?”
“No, I do. I just – I don’t know. Maybe someday.”
“Okay,” Joel says, nodding. “Put a pin in it.”
He passes you a dripping plate and you drag the towel over it, circling the pattern until the suds are wiped clean. And another, and another.
It feels awkward. It feels stiff. There’s something hanging between you, heavy on both your shoulders. A weight you haven’t felt around Joel in over a year.
You turn to him as he stacks the last plate on the draining board. “Is that what you were talking to Tommy about?”
Joel pauses. “You heard that, huh?”
“Only the part about having a kid. It’s none of my business, I know, I just –”
“Actually,” he clears his throat, “it’s plenty your business.”
He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. A deep breath, cheeks puffing as he exhales. His grip on the dish towel whitens his knuckles.
He’s…nervous. The same shade of gray he wore the night you went into labor.
He takes another unsteady breath.
“Joel?” you ask, head tilting. “Whatever it is, you can say it. I got whiskey, if that’ll make it easier. Probably tastes like shit, but…”
His expression cracks. His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. Only a little, but enough. Enough to let the words slip through.
“You know, that night at Tommy’s wedding was one of the best nights of my life.”
Your heartbeat thuds a bassline in your ears; the rush of your blood the squealing guitar. Skin tacky, moans caught between teeth. Laughter and lust tangling together in the air.
“Yeah?” you ask.
Joel nods. “Yeah. Lying there – talking, laughing, messin’ around. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in all my life. I could’ve stayed in that room with you forever.”
Your eyes start to sting. You look away.
“I thought I would regret it. I thought I should regret it. And I never did. But then,” he takes a deep breath, “the next day, I look out front, and my newspaper’s sittin’ on my lawn. And for two weeks straight, I kept checking – and there it was. I thought, Sure as shit, she regrets the whole thing. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”
You shake your head. “I wanted to see you again. I missed – I missed you. Missed pissin’ you off.”
He laughs. “I missed you pissin’ me off. Missed that annoying as hell thud on my porch.”
“I didn’t know if you wanted me to – you know,” you admit, and Joel nods.
“We got pretty good at avoidin’ each other,” he grumbles. “And then – with Vanessa, I thought I’d be doin’ you a favor. Letting you off light.”
“You…you took her number to do me a favor?”
“Naw,” Joel says. “I took her number ‘cause her brother in-law has a lumber company, and I had a closet to build. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I brought it up to her at the wedding. By the time I thought it through, you ‘n I weren’t speakin’.”
You stare at him, jaw slack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He shakes his head. He edges closer to you. Voice low, he says, “I shouldn’t’ve gone out on that first date with her. I shouldn’t’ve done any of it. I should’ve talked to you about what I was feeling.”
“Well, maybe we both should’ve,” you mutter, wringing your hands. “I wasn’t exactly the best at it, either.”
His head tips, considering. “Can I tell you now?”
You glance over to him. “Tell me what, Miller?”
“Tell you…tell you that I love you,” he whispers.
It steals the breath from your lungs. One clean swipe.
He nods to himself, then – certain of it – and says it again. “I do, darlin’. I love you.”
Your heart begins to hammer. Tears spill over onto your cheeks, dripping from your jaw.
“And, look –” Joel takes your wrists, “– I got no right to say any of that, I know. I put you through a hell of a lot, these last few months – and that kills me. But if you’ll let me, I swear to you – I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”
You look up. His cheeks are dappled, too – glistening with tears. “Joel…” you weep.
He cups your jaw. “Listen to me. What we’ve had, the last three months – I want it all the time. I want you, and I want Duck. I want the three of us under one roof. I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”
You breathe a shuddered laugh. Your hands fall over his wrists. Keep talking, you mouth, bottom lip trembling.
“I want to get married, or not,” Joel says. “I want to show up to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party late, ‘cause Duck couldn’t pick which shoes she wanted to wear. I want to have more kids, take ‘em on vacation.”
“Wyoming?” you sniff.
“Wyoming,” he repeats. “I want…I want all of it, baby. You ‘n me. I want you ‘n me, more than anything in the world. And if I’m too late, then you can tell me. Tell me, and I swear on my life I will never mention it again.”
Your hands curve over his. His strong knuckles, worked and weathered and worn by his years. Down to his wrists – the tatty strap on his ages-old watch, the dark hair peppered along his arms.
“I love you so much, baby. So much that it drives me insane. You drive me…fuckin’ insane.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you whisper, balling your fists against his chest.
Joel laughs, nose brushing against yours. “Yeah,” he sniffs, “I figured you’d say som’ like that.”
“I love you, too,” you mumble, linking your arms around his neck. “Shit, I love you.”
“Ain’t that a thing?” he says, and his lips are on yours.
It’s been a year. A year since the first time you felt him – lips soft as velvet, sweet with alcohol and something stronger. His tongue and yours, his teeth and yours. Every part of you clashing with every part of him.
And goddamn, you’ve missed it.
Joel follows you upstairs, pinning you to the wall by your bedroom door. White heat flooding through your veins, he kneels before you and pulls you onto his tongue.
He’s hungry.
He laps at you as though you’ll be gone in the morning. As though he won’t wake up tangled in you, breathing in your scent, lips on your skin.
Dusk seeps in at the edges of your vision; daylight draining from the sky. It’s dark, too dark to see him clearly, but you feel him fucking everywhere.
His beard grazes the inside of your thigh. He kisses where he scratches your skin. He holds your hips steady, tongue dipping in and out.
“You know how fuckin’ sweet you taste?” he growls, slipping inside again.
He looks so good between your legs. Like he was made for it – made for you. All yours, in ways you never really understood until now.
He brings you to the edge with his tongue flat against your clit. Holding your hips firm against his mouth, groaning with you as you fall.
You come with a broken moan. Hips stutter to a halt, legs fall wide open. The warmth in your belly spills over and rushes to every corner of your body.
Joel moans, tongue still lapping as your cunt pulses all over him. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he slurs, watching you come undone.
He stands, a chaste kiss to your lips, and then parts them with his tongue. “Taste good?” he mumbles, kissing you gently.
Yeah, you think, moaning against him, it tastes fucking good.
He spreads you out on your mattress and kisses what feels like every square inch of your body. You giggle at the feeling of his lips behind your ear; moan when they close around your nipple.
Your back arches; little lightning bolts as he pulls the buds to a peak. Your fingers knot through his hair; hissing at the meeting of pain and pleasure between Joel’s lips.
“I love you,” you whisper, when he settles between your legs. You don’t know that you’ve felt something so true in all your life.
He smiles. Your fingers trace the lines at his eyes.
“Come here,” he says, and pulls your hips to meet his.
You curve a hand around his neck, glancing down at your open legs. “Looks a little different to the last time you saw her.”
Joel shakes his head, licking his lips. “Beautiful, baby. She looks so goddamn beautiful.”
Each movement is careful, deliberate. He notches his tip at your hole and pauses until you’re looking at him again.
And then he pushes in.
He slips an arm under your head; the other holding your thigh on his waist. He kisses you as you stretch around him. He still tastes like salt and slick.
You gasp, teeth gritting around a hiss. “Fuck,” you whimper, turning in to his chest.
“Easy, easy,” Joel coos, voice rumbling against your temple. “Catch your breath. Doin’ so good.”
“It’s not sore,” you tell him, nodding for him to move again. “It’s…it’s just…different.”
“Tighter,” he groans, eyes on your cunt as it draws his cock in.
You agree, “Tighter.”
He catches you in another kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Breathe. ‘m right here.”
It’s never felt like this before. This gentle, this tender.
You have never felt like this before. Broken open, stitched back together. Your heart split into two – whole again each time his body meets yours.
Joel catches your moans on his tongue. He steadies his pace; rocking into you over and over. Laughing against your lips; your fingers intertwined with his.
“Feel good?” he pants.
Your head rolls back. “Mhm.”
“Take it, baby. Such a tight little thing.”
“Joel,” you cry, “I’m close.”
His teeth nip at your neck. “Shit,” his hips jump, “attagirl. Just like that.” He thrusts into you harder, bleeding the color from your vision.
You pull his lips to yours, foreheads tacky. Joel’s eyes gloss over.
I love you, he breathes.
And the world whitens.
He pulls you against his chest when you come back around. Shifts up the headboard, skin all sticky and warm. He kisses your temples, kisses your shoulders, kisses your knuckles.
You melt into his grasp, turning to look up at him. You run your fingers over his lips, through his damp hair. Just staring. Drinking him all in.
“You were right next door, the entire time,” you whisper.
He runs a thumb across your cheek. “Yep.”
“Do you think we wasted too much time?”
Joel’s lip turns. “Nah,” he says. “We found our way.”
“Needed a little help, though.”
He scoffs, tongue between his teeth. “I’m sure she’ll hold it against us forever.”
You think of that evening in August. The last bow of the sun before your world changed forever. Of deals struck and promises made. Of satin on your fingertips – newspaper ink and duck egg silk.
You think of that photograph on your mantelpiece. Bright eyes watching every second of it. A smile on her face the entire time.
You laugh to yourself. Joel looks down and kisses your swollen cheek.
“We should go,” he taps your thigh, “got a little duck who’ll be wonderin’ where her mama and daddy are.”
The church tower rings out twice as the truck purrs between graves.
Joel pulls up under the shade of a sycamore, tires rolling to a halt. Sarah kicks her feet, her heels thudding against her car seat.
“Mama,” she presses a sticky finger to the back window, “flowers.”
“Yeah, baby,” you call over your shoulder, hugging your own graveside gift a little tighter in your arms. “Lots of ‘em, huh?”
“Yeah,” your daughter quietly considers, then kicks her seat again.
Joel waits patiently for you to give him the go ahead. He slips a hand around your knee, looking ahead at the rows of headstones. So patient, so gentle.
Your chest swells, a deep breath filling your lungs, and you nod. “Alright.”
“Sure?” he asks. “Take as long as you want, darlin’.”
But if you wait any longer, you’ll never leave. The paper wrap crinkles in your arms. “You take Duck,” you reply, “I’ll take…”
Joel lifts your hand, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles. “You got it. We’ll walk on.”
He leaves you in the truck to collect yourself. He unbuckles Sarah and sets her loose, following her across the grass with his hands in his pockets.
Her light-up sneakers flash as she sprints; head tossed back, toothless smile pointed to the sun. She turns back to her dad, her little hand fitting perfectly into his.
Made for each other.
You hook your fingers around the handle and leave the truck.
Their grave is a short walk down a grassy slope, sheltered by another towering tree. Its leaves flutter down around you as you near the stone; stray petals which catch in the breeze and lead the way.
You kneel down, the grass dry and prickly through your jeans. “Hi, Mom,” you whisper, sweeping some dust from the base of the grave. “Hi, Dad.”
Your grandma picked this spot. She’s long gone – laid to rest elsewhere with a grandfather you never met – so you try to visit as often as you can. Freshen the flowers, brighten up the stone.
It fucking sucks, but someone’s gotta do it.
You peel the brown paper from the bouquet, exposing the soft colors Sarah picked back in the florist. They fit perfectly on the stone, right beneath the words Devoted parents.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a feeling that wraps itself around your throat and steals any other words – until a flash of pink catches your attention.
“Duckie,” Joel calls, following her between graves. “Hey. This is a cem…Hey, Duck, listen – this is a cemetery, we gotta be – Sarah!”
You stifle a laugh, watching him jog after the hoodie tied around her waist. He swipes for her hand and she dodges him, ducking between graves faster than his mid-fifties joints can turn him.
There’s no one else here – it’s only you. And it’s a quiet enough place as it is, so – you let her laugh. Let him chase her, and let her sneakers light the place in pink. What else is there to do?
“Sorry it’s been a little while,” you tell your parents, eyes still on your man.
He’s kneeling now, Sarah on his thigh, in front of a tall, cross-shaped stone. They’re pointing at the words on the stone, her inquisitive eyes studying each one.
“I know I said I’d come visit for Dad’s birthday, but I guess things got busy – what with the move and all. We’re still living out of boxes. But the girls’ rooms are almost done – we just gotta paint ‘em.”
You look back down to the stone. Your mom’s name carved deep into spotted marble, your dad’s underneath. One awful date to tie them both together.
Dad probably heard Duck’s first squeal and turned away; gone back to whatever boring activity he might get up to in the afterlife. But your mom, you know for certain, is sat with her chin on the heel of her palm. Watching her mini-me trace the shapes of words, squirming when Joel presses his lips to her temple and whispers hints to her.
She’s probably smiling, making some comment about how big Sarah’s getting. How smart she is, how funny. How she must keep you and Joel on your toes – and goddamn, she’s right.
“Joel’s been working on the kitchen,” you continue. “I left my phone in the truck, but you should see it, Mom. He got these marble countertops, these little brushed-gold handles. He wrote our names on the wall before he tiled it, so whoever remodels after we’re gone will find that. The four of us.”
“M-meh-mem-orr-mem-or-ree?” Sarah tilts her head.
Joel nods. “Memory, yeah. Good job, Duck.”
“Duckie’s good,” you tell your mom. “She’s top of her class in – well, everything. Really wiping the floor with all the other first-graders. She’d have been your favorite – I know that much. And you’d have been hers.
“She’s gonna be some kind of lawyer, we think. Social justice and all that. She likes to be a woman of the people. Always talkin’ back to Joel – she hardly cuts him any slack, these days,” you laugh.
“He’s good, too – Joel. Working hard, as usual. Tommy and Maria visited last week – they brought Buckley, and now Duck won’t stop goin’ on about us getting a dog.”
You chance a glance over the stone, making sure the pair are out of earshot when you add, “Don’t tell her, but we called the pound last night. We’re heading there tomorrow while she’s at school to pick one out for her birthday. Joel’s giddier than I think Sarah’s gonna be.”
Joel’s carrying Duck now, wandering down a wobbly row of graves.
She halts him by pointing to one. “N-eh-v-eh-never…fff-or-g-for–”
He stares at her, a grin breaking across his lips. “Sound it out, that’s it. ‘s a big word, baby girl. You got it.”
The world seems to blur around them. The birds sing, a light melody from overhead. The green trees sway across the blue of the sky; the straight soar of cars on the highway. It all fades into the background, behind the two of them – wandering from shade into brilliant sun.
Your family. Your man, your blood – and everything in between. The little girl who brought it all together in the end – leading her dad by hand over knolls and broken stone, chasing butterflies, and asking what eh-teh-err-nal means.
“Means forever,” Joel says, kneeling beside her. “’s how long I’m gonna love you for.”
“And Nel?”
“And Nel.”
“And Mama?”
“And Mama.”
Sarah runs her hands through his beard, swaying side to side. “But me the most,” she concludes, nodding.
Joel hms, biting back a laugh. He lifts his chin, asks the little girl whether or not he’s going gray.
She has the same ridiculous laugh you do. The same snort you used to find so embarrassing, until you heard it come from her.
Just watching them stokes the already burning fire in your ribcage – the warmth flooding around your heart. He’s so good at it – being a dad.
Was he ever anything else, before he was a father? You can’t remember a time you didn’t wake up next to him, wrapped up in his arms, or with one of his kids burrowed between your bodies. It all feels so long ago, now.
He wanted to do everything. He’d lie with you between his legs, holding your half-sleeping form upright while you fed her. He’d race home after work specially to bathe her. He picked up any and every single duck-themed thing that he came across.
And what were you? Mom felt like such a fucking longshot. So out of your reach that you couldn’t understand the meaning of the word.
But there are days when she says it – Sarah, looking up at you with Joel’s twinkling eyes and a smirk which matches yours – and it’s like you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear it. Like you’ve been waiting your whole life for her.
Well. Her, and her little sister.
“And, uh – another thing,” you say, reaching for the plastic handle of a car seat. “I brought somebody for you to meet.”
A clumsy fist shoots up to shake a speckled dinosaur toy – the brown spheres of its eyes catching the sunlight. She squeals with delight when you unbuckle her, kicks her legs the same way her sister always did.
“She’s a little nervous, ain’t you, Nel?” you whisper, laughing at her gummy smile and tiny, socked feet. “She spit up on herself on the way here, but – I think you’re gonna love her.”
You perch the baby on your thigh, same as Joel did with Sarah, and she wraps her fingers around one of yours. You wiggle it – waving to your mom’s name, to the petals gently fluttering in the breeze.
“Mom,” you sniff, “this is Ellie.”
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luveline · 16 days
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If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺
“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.
You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT. 
Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen. 
“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.” 
Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?” 
You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.” 
“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?” 
“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?” 
“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.” 
You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work. 
The door opens. You twist your head. 
Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?” 
“Quick, she wants to see you.” 
Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter. 
“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.” 
You tap his leg gently. Calm down. 
“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?” 
“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.” 
“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.” 
“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.” 
Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.” 
“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.” 
“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek. 
“Give one for me, dad!” 
Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks. 
“Another one!” 
When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?” 
“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.” 
“I miss you too. Bye bye.” 
“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.” 
“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says. 
She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.
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goldsbitch · 23 days
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My name
Busy schedules don't allow Y/N and her boyfriend Lando Norris much down time to chill with her friends. But missing a wedding is a no go.
fluffy fluff, wedding, one shot, for the vibes only
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It was almost a stroke of luck that Y/N's friends managed to pick a date for their wedding on a day that Lando could attend. This was a rare opportunity, while she accompanied him often during his events or outings, more than often he was unable to be there as her partner on her personal affairs.
Missed family gatherings, friends birthdays and grill parties. She accepted that part of their relationship, with the hope that in the future, it might come to change. They'd been dating for two years now - if she had to pick the brightest days of her life so far, it would in this time frame.
There was lot of excitement in the late summer air. One of her best friends was marrying a guy she became good buddy with over the years. And Lando would finally be joining her, as her partner. No more half smiles following the question "Would Lando join us this time?". These two friends marrying each other were a nice inspiration for the kind of relationship Y/N strived for. And Lando was that for her - a partner, lover, friend and the one to always make her laugh. But some of the people in her life were not convinced that he was good for her, mainly for the lack of his presence. She did not want the opinions of other to spoil their relationship. However, it would be a lie to say that her heart wasn't jumping around with happiness at the prospect of having him join them.
Her friends organized their dream wedding in a lovely estate somewhere in South of France. Small village remote from any city, safe from any prying eyes. It was refreshing from the flashing lights of racing tracks. Eighty people, all mostly friends with each other.
Y/N came in earlier with the main couple, in order to help them put everything in place. Two days of hard work navigating typical struggled of wedding organizing, with tomorrow being the big day. Regular guest were coming in, but she was only waiting for him, counting every minute.
Those prep days were packed with dealing with logistics and all this wedding usually concern. Going back and forth and trying to make everything perfect for the main event. But, she manages to find a moment of solutide to take in the beauty, the smell of late harvest, sun kissed valleys and heavy summer air, that set everything in. Having the bottom of your dress shiver with light breeze is the epitome of bliss. Life was good. And for the main part, she would get to experience all this with her love around her arm.
//
The two getting married? They were something else.
"Babe, what the fuck are these glasses?" said the bride to be as she watched the caterers setting up table for an evening dinner buffet.
"Well, you said yes, to them, remember? Back in May," was how the groom replied hastily. Y/N watched, knowing well enough that the strange looking glasses that were too big for her friends small hands were definitely not what the bride would have picked. She smirked as she watched them bicker playfully.
"They look like some futuristic ashtrays," the bride continued, shooting arrows playfully at he soon to be husband.
"Hm. Isn't that cool?" he said, trying to talk himself out of it. They were both strong opinionated people, so this was not a rare debate.
"No? How do you think this suits our late summer garden vibe?" she said, pointing around to the fields.
"You said yes to them, I remember specifically..." he defended without a beat.
"My mom's going to think we smoke."
"Well...we could use them as ashtrays," he said, inspecting the items.
The bride threw her hands up, not believing the game her "soon to be" was playing. "Babe, we don't smoke!"
He mimicked her hand gesture ironically. "We could start!"
"Just admit you've made a fuck up, honey, and we're good."
"That will never happen. This is all part of the plan."
Y/N observed and chucked, knowing well enough that the best thing to do was to stay out of their way.
A small quiet whisper came from behind Y/N. "Is this how they always act?" Shiver down her spine. She smiled, because she could recognize that voice anywhere. Heard it thousand times in the morning, in the middle of a busy day and on too many late night phone call to count. She turned her head slightly only to find him standing right behind her, his head now resting on her shoulder.
"Hi, muppet," he continued as he wrapped his hands around her, hugging her from behind. "I'm sorry I am a little late. Turbulences held us up."
The two stood there, as young lovers would. Completely wrapped in their own world.
"Did they? I completely lost track, as you see, big problems over here," she said and pointed inconspicuously to the couple still bickering about glasses. It wasn't technically true, she managed to get her phone out every other minute as they were unpacking stuff. But that was too embarrassing to admit.
She finally turned around to give him a welcome kiss, a much needed physical contact after not seeing him for almost three weeks. "Do you think we could take a walk around the garden? I would to get my head clear before facing other people," he said sheepishly. The last few race weekends had been very tough on him.
"I would be more than happy," she replied with a smile.
The scenery was too good to be true. Never ending fields of trees, heavy air sitting on the top of everyone trying to breathe and smell of hot soil and dried leaves cut though it all. They walked hand in hand in silence for a while, the sound of cracking branches accompanying them with every step. These two had spoken a lot in the past few weeks, every day it was either a phone call of few videos shared mapping their separate days. Texting was not good enough for these two. Lando was pretty much touch starved. Even though he was touched by random people more than an average person would be, as some fans felt like it was ok to do so. It made him miss the consensual touch he shared with his girlfriend more than ever. Girlfriend was an interesting word, felt outdated for the feelings he had for her. A small box had been accompanying him whenever he saw her for a while now. But he figured that highjacking someone else's wedding with his own proposal was a bit rude and selfish. He was grateful that this time he did not bring the box with him, as he was not sure he'd be able to resist proposing when he saw how the light reflected from her hair made it all shine, like a fresh jar of honey. A white dress would definitely suit her and his last name as well. He knew she'd want to keep her maiden name too and was more than fine with that. But to add "Norris" behind it was his ultimate goal.
"You seem more quiet than usual," she asked after a moment, being more than capable of reading his face. He was slowly letting go of his stress from the races.
"I'm loosing myself in the thoughts about your dress," he replied cheekily, letting her think he is talking about the teal summer dress she was wearing at the moment.
"Are you, now?" she winked and pulled her dress up slightly, only stopping at her bikini line.
"Oh, you can't do that to me," he said, defeated.
"You sure?" She stopped walking, came closer to him and put her arm around his neck. "But it's been so long since you've touched me," she added, knowing this will set him off. Teasing and seducing him was like a second language to her. She god real close and rubbed her core against his crotch.
"You're asking for trouble, Ms....Y/L/N," he nearly had a Freudian slip there. He panicked slightly and decided to kiss her immediately. She didn't seem to notice. Once he calmed down a bit he slid his hand down to he legs and the went back up to cup her ass and pulling her dress up again. "I would have you right here and now," he mumbled into their kiss and she smiled. Absolutely in love.
"We'll have to wait until the evening, we have a very nice room..."
"I don't care about that, I want to cum into you right here and now," he continued and bit her upper lip lightly.
"Anyone could walk by," she kept resisting.
"As if I care."
She laughed and broke their kiss. "We have to go now. I still have to help the poor bride with the decorations."
He signed overly dramatically. "You are making my life a living hell, Y/N."
"You can punish me later," she ended and got out of his embrace and started heading back to the estate. "Come on," she instructed as Lando watched her ass as she walked away. Norris. It's going to suit her.
//
Evening marked shared laughter, catching up with many friends, local wine with cheese and hands held under the table. Only once it was really happening did Y/N started to notice how much she needed this. Being able to "show" Lando off to her friends for longer than a short appearance. They got to finally know him, not only listen to stories about him. Oh and he was marvelous that evening. Charming, funny, criminally handsome - and always by her side. He was happy to be there. One of the reason being finally able to listen to the people she spoke about, but also to let loose and not have to think about what he says. These were no sponsors, interviewers or teammates. He loved that they cared about her more than him. It was a nice change. And he was on board with that, enjoying the fact that she was the star and not him.
//
The wedding day had swung by in a blur and suddenly, Y/N and Lando were sitting in a small local chapel, watching her friends making a mark on their relationship.
But Lando was not watching them. He was watching his now girlfriend. With the sight he had in the corner of his eye, the thoughts hanging in the back of his mind were getting louder and louder.
The ceremony was a non serious and cheerful one, the priest making many jokes while still keeping the atmosphere together. As far as ceremonies go, this was an honest one. The only thing to bring people out the holy romantic vibe this gave off was an unapologetically explicit kiss the bride and groom shared as they got wed. It was more like watching drunk teenagers make out. Some people laughed, some people cheered and the rest were slightly mortified. Y/N was one of the people to turn their heads away from the sight, she had known this girl ever since they were kids, this was a little too much. Lando found her reaction amusing, as he had heard many stories of her and her friend to know that she'd witnessed way more extreme things. "Look at you, prude," he whispered to her ear as he watched the bride and groom fight with their tongues.
"I refuse to accept this," Y/N said, keeping it up with the grandmas in the room.
"Well, if this repulses you, then I'm afraid you're going to die of embarrassment at our wedding," he said as if it was no big deal. But to Y/N it was. They had joked about marriage few times, but Lando used a different tone of voice this time. But she had been secretly dreaming about it for a while now.
"You're going to have tie me down if you're planning on doing that," she said, pointing at the pair, not quite sure how to process that he was probably thinking about their marriage too.
"So far, you've never said no to my plans," he winked at her.
Y/N smiled and turned her eyes to the ground. If someone had asked why she smiled so much, she'd say it was because of her friend's wedding. Though it would only be one half of the truth. She held his hand, as they walked out of the church. For some reason, it almost felt like a rehearsal.
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babyleostuff · 2 months
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౨ৎ voicemails xu minghao leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: darling, baby)
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...one: hi darling. we just got to the hotel. sleep well, and text me when you wake up tomorrow. i love you
…two: my mum called me today asking about you. do you mind giving her a call, she's been nagging me for weeks about you. i swear you're her favourite child at this point
...three: please don’t tell me you’re ignoring my calls because i broke that picture frame. i promise i’m going to be you a new, even prettier one when i come home. just… text me, please?
...four: i'm sorry but i won't be able to talk to you tonight, we have some schedules in the evening, and we'll probably stay at the venue until one or two. but send me like a voice message or something? i still want to hear about your day
...five: do you want to help me out, and choose some photos that i could post on instagram? i’ll send you a bunch from the gallery me and wonwoo went to today. you always pick the best ones
...six: i’m genuinely so sick of the boys, i’m going crazy. if you see some weird headlines about someone committing a murder just know it’s me
...seven: i know we’re supposed to talk later tonight, but i just wanted to say that i miss you
...eight: you sounded tired on the phone earlier today. i didn’t want to say anything, but (sigh) are you sure everything is okay? you know you can always talk to me, baby. even with an ocean separating us
...nine: did you take the sweater my mom got me for my birthday? i'm sure i packed it, but i can't find it anywhere.
...ten: you know... the tour is great, but i can't wait to go back home. i really miss you
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau
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starkwlkr · 1 year
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omg can you write charles reaction to baby leclerc first kindergarten boyfriend and how jealous he would be 🥹🥹
no boys allowed | charles leclerc
in honor of my birthday, here’s one more baby leclerc fic <3
Ruby woke up ten minutes earlier than she should’ve. It was a new school day and she was more excited than ever. While her mom slept peacefully, Ruby was in her bathroom trying to untangle her hair, but each time she would end up with a knot in it. She gave up and ran to her mom and dad’s room with a brush stuck in her hair.
“Mama, I need help. Mama, wake up.” Ruby poked Y/n’s cheek repeatedly until her eyes fluttered open.
“Baby, what? What’s wrong?” Y/n rubbed her tired eyes. She then saw the mess on Ruby’s head. “Oh, baby girl.”
Y/n was alone with the kids since Charles was coming back from Italy for his home race. Mathéo slept in his nursery. Y/n got out of bed and took Ruby to her bathroom to fix the tangled hair.
“Why did you do this, Ruby?” The mother asked.
“Because I want to look pretty for my boyfriend!”
Y/n choked on her own saliva when she heard Ruby mention the word ‘boyfriend’. “When did this happen, Rubes? Does papa know?”
Of course Charles didn’t know. If he did, he would immediately change Ruby to a different school. Even if it was a pretend boyfriend, Ruby was still too young to be thinking about boys in his eyes. Thank god Charles wasn’t home.
“Yesterday he told me he loves me. Papa doesn’t know . . Yet! Can I tell him?” Ruby jumped up and down, eager to tell her papa about her love life.
“Not right now, baby. He’s working. But you can tell me all about him. What’s his name?” Y/n asked as she continued to brush through Ruby’s hair.
“His name is Ben and we’re getting married! Can you be my flower girl, mama? And uncle arthur can give us a ring.” Ruby said. “I want uncle pierre and kika to be at my wedding. I love Kika.”
Y/n chuckled. Ruby reminded Y/n of a younger version of herself, planning out her dream wedding, not having a single stressful moment. Y/n wished her Ruby would stay little forever.
“Okay, all done. Go get dressed, I have to get your brother ready.” Y/n pressed a kiss to the top of Ruby’s head and watched as the little girl ran off to her room. Before Y/n walked to Mathéo’s nursery, she grabbed her phone and texted Charles.
Y/n
Good morning my love. I’m going to take Ruby to school and when you get home, I have news to tell you. It’s important.
Charles
Good morning mon amour❤️ tell Ruby I love her and I miss her. Are you not going to give me a hint? I can’t wait that long
Y/n
Well it’s about our daughter. That’s all I’m telling you.
Charles
You’re an evil woman
I love you ❤️
Y/n
Love you more 🥰
She left her phone on her nightstand and walked to Mathéo’s room where he was not laying awake staring at the ceiling. “Good morning my little boy. Let’s get you ready for the day.”
After both kids were dressed, the Leclerc family was on their way to school. Ruby kept telling her mother about Ben and how good he was at drawing, counting from 1 to 100 and apparently he knew about f1 because of his dad. The school wasn’t that far away from their home so they walked.
“When is papa coming home?” Ruby asked.
“He should be here tomorrow or maybe even today.” Replied Y/n. Mathéo squealed from his spot in his stroller. “You’re exiting to see papa, Théo? He misses you too.”
“I can tell him about Ben! Can Ben come to the race with us? Please mama!” Ruby stopped walking to face her mother.
“I don’t know, Ruby. We have to talk to his parents first.”
When Ruby got to school, she refused to set foot into the classroom until Ben arrived. Five minutes later, a little boy with a Ferrari cap on ran towards Ruby and hugged her.
“Ben! Don’t run! You’ve tripped enough already!” A woman about Y/n’s age scolded the boy.
“Mama! He’s Ben, my boyfriend!” Ruby yelled as Ben put his arm around her shoulder.
“Nice to meet you Ben. I’m Ruby’s mom.” Y/n said to the little boy.
“So I guess we’re in laws?” Ben’s mom laughed. “I’m Clara, Ben’s mom. I’ve heard so many things about your little girl. Were you invited to their ‘wedding’?” Clara asked.
Y/n nodded. “You’re looking at the flower girl.” She joked.
“I’m jealous, Ben told me I have to pay for the whole thing!”
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After school, Pascale, Lorenzo and Arthur would always arrive at Y/n and Charles’ house just to spend time together. Ruby absolutely loved it. This time, Charles joined since he had taken an early flight from Italy so when he got home, he found Ruby and Arthur doing some crafts on the kitchen table while Pascale, Y/n and Lorenzo were with Baby Mathéo in the living room.
“Papa!” Ruby threw her crayon on the table and ran to Charles.
Charles let his suitcase fall to the ground. He wrapped his arms around Ruby and picked her up, spinning her a couple time as she laughed. “You didn’t cause any trouble, did you?” He kissed her cheek.
“No! I’m a very good girl. Ask mama and Théo!” Ruby giggled.
“Okay, I’ll ask them right now.” Charles set her down and turned his attention to the rest of his family. “How was my boy while I was gone? Was Ruby good?” He sat next to Y/n on the sofa.
“He didn’t cry at night often, but he did miss his papa a lot.” Y/n passed the baby to Charles. “And yes, she was an angel.”
“Just him and Ruby missed me?” Charles teased.
“I missed you!” Arthur spoke from the kitchen table.
“Anyone else missed me? Anybody?” Charles looked around, ignoring Arthur. “I’m kidding, I missed all of you.”
“Oh! The news! Ruby, want to tell papa now?” Y/n prepared herself for Charles’ reaction. Everyone did.
“What news, Ruby?”
“I have a boyfriend!”
“Mon amour, grab Théo please.”
Y/n took the baby from Charles’ arms and watched his confused face.
“Baby, you can’t have a boyfriend.” Charles said to Ruby. “You’re too young and he is too.”
“But I already made him a card! Uncle Arthur is helping me!” Ruby pointed at Arthur, who immediately dropped the marker from his hands and froze.
“Arthur! Why are you helping my daughter make a card for a boy?!”
“She didn’t tell me it was for her boyfriend.” Arthur defended himself.
“Yes I did. I said ‘uncle arthur can you help me make a card for my boyfriend?’ and you said yes.” Ruby innocently said.
“I thought she was joking.”
Charles shook his head. He knew it wasn’t a real relationship but he still didn’t like the idea of his little girl already thinking about boys and relationships.
“And you haven’t even heard the best part yet. They’re getting married.” Lorenzo added followed by a loud laugh.
“No one is getting married!” Charles announced.
“So you and mama aren’t getting married?” Ruby asked.
“We are married, baby.” Y/n said confused.
“But Ben’s parents got married two times. He told me.”
“So his name is Ben. Where does he live?” Charles asked and before Ruby could answer, Pascale hit his arm. “Maman! This Ben can’t date my daughter!”
“They’re kids, Charles.” Pascale said, bringing in her granddaughter for a hug.
“You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend when you were a little kid?” Y/n asked Charles. Not that he could remember, no he never did that.
“And you had a boyfriend when you were little?” Charles rolled his eyes, and watched Y/n stay silent. “No, someone was your boyfriend before me?!”
“This isn’t about me, now excuse me I have to practice my flower girl skills before the big wedding.”
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eternalsams · 1 year
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The Olive Theory ⇴ J.Seresin
pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader
warning/content: this is a Soulmates!AU, bit of angst but quickly replaced by fluff, they're so in love it makes me sick, young!Hangman (in his early twenties), naval academy inaccuracies
summary: In a world where you learn a detail about your soulmate on each of your birthdays, you think you found your pair years ago but you're completely caught off guard on your 24st birthday.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration.
masterlist
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You were twirling the phone cord around your finger, giggling at something Jake said at the other end. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling but all your attention was to the man speaking to you. Jake had to leave Texas a few months ago for the Navy Academy after you both graduated at the Austin University. "When's the next time you're coming home?" You asked, kicking your legs in the air. Jake smiled, even though you couldn't see him, and he shook his head. "I don't know sweetheart..." Oh, but he knew. "Probably for the holidays." You tried not to sound too disappointed when you responded. "That's great. I can't wait to see you." You let your legs fall back down on the couch and straightened up. "I hope you're having fun." You smiled softly. "I am, it's great. I can't fly a jet yet, but they have us do some pilot shit in a simulator. It's not the same feeling but I love it!" You smile even more at the excitement in his voice, the distance was hard but knowing he was in his element made it worth it.
"What are you planning for tomorrow?" He then asked. Tomorrow you would celebrate your 24th birthday, but you didn't have the mood to celebrate anything without Jake. He hadn't missed a single birthday for 7 years and tomorrow would be the first one you spend apart. "I don't know yet... My mom wants us to go see a movie but I'm not really feeling like it..." You rubbed a hand on your face, trying to contain the tears for spilling. "Y/n..." You heard Jake sigh. "I know, I know. But I just miss you so much..." You murmured. "I miss you too, sweetheart..." He responded and the line was silent for a moment. You thought he had hung up before you heard his voice again. "You're ready to learn something new about me?" He said with a certain tease in his voice. Oh yeah, you almost forgot about that. Tomorrow you would find an envelop in your mailbox, containing a small detail about your soulmates. You knew Jake was yours, every year all the letters you got matched perfectly with him, and his with you.
"I'm pretty sure it's gonna say that you'd wet your bed until you were 8." You laughed heartedly. "Hey! It happened once and it's because I was sick! I knew I shouldn't introduce you to my mom in the first place..." You laughed even more and the melancholy you felt a minute ago disappeared. That was the thing about Jake, he always managed to bring a smile on your face. "Alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna have to go. I gotta get up early tomorrow, I'm gonna see my first jet up close." He said excitedly, making your smile widen. "Okay, cowboy. Have fun tomorrow, I'll text you whatever stupid thing I learn about you." You heard Jake laugh and you exchanged 'I love you's before hanging up. You sighed and rubbed your eyes, wiping away the tears forming in the corners.
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You woke up the next morning with a smile on your face, you threw your legs out of the bed, slipped on your slippers and ran to your mailbox. You grabbed the envelop and ran back inside. You softly chuckled, anticipating whatever you're gonna learn about Jake. You silently wished it would be something embarrassing so you could have a good laugh but when you read the words on the letter, your smile immediately fell. They love olives. No, it couldn't be. Jake didn't like olives, he always gave you his. On pizzas, in salads. You've never seen him eat a single one olive since you've met him. You stayed frozen for what seemed hours before you heard knocks on your door. You knew it was your mom, and seconds after, the front door opened and you could hear your mother's voice. She joined you in the kitchen and stopped in her tracks when she saw you. "What's wrong, baby?" Your gaze stay focused on the wooden table and you gave her the letter. You didn't trust your voice from quivering if you spoke right now. She read the words and dropped the letter on the table before wrapping her arms around your shoulders. "Oh, honey... It's gonna be okay..." Jake wasn't your soulmate. You just couldn't believe it, everything was going perfect with him, even if the distance made it hard, you really thought you found your pair with him. But you were destined to be with someone else, someone who loved olives. And Jake was destined to be with another person.
Jealousy and anger took over your body and you ripped the letter and envelop to pieces. You knew you didn't have to follow what the letters told you, you could stay with Jake and everything would be fine for the both of you. But now that you knew he wasn't your soulmate, you would always think about that other person he would be happier with. You couldn't think about being happier than with Jake but you really didn't want to think about Jake being happier with someone else and leaving you for someone better than you. You then stayed home with your mom, forgetting about the movie and whatever you guys planned for your birthday. From time to time, you'd find yourself crying silently and then quickly wiping the tears to give a reassuring smile to your mom. That until you heard the doorbell ring. You were curled up on your couch, hugging a pillow and wrapped up in a blanket Jake got you last winter. Your mom got up and went to answer the front door, murmuring something before you heard the door close.
"Sweetheart?" Your head immediately raised at the sound of that voice and your eyes widened. "Jake? What are you doing here?" You straightened up and got up from the couch, dropping the pillow and the blanket on the floor. "I'll leave you two alone. Call me if you need anything, okay?" Your mom said before kissing your cheek and then Jake's before leaving the house. "Jake, what are you doing here? I thought you had class..." You asked with glassy eyes, your voice breaking and betraying your mental state. Your boyfriend dropped his duffle bag on the floor and reached for you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. "I wanted to surprise you. What's wrong? Did you learn something so embarrassing you don't wanna be with me anymore?" He tried to joke but the reality caught you and the smile he wanted to see appear on your face never showed up. That's when he knew something was very wrong. "Okay, let's sit down for a bit and you'll tell me everything, okay? Just calm down and breathe deeply." You both sat down on the couch and you curled up against him, listening to his heartbeat and timing your breathing with his. He was rubbing your back the whole time, kissing the top of your head and whispering reassuring words into your ear.
Once you calmed down and pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. "You're not the one I'm supposed to be with..." You murmured and he froze. He looked like a kicked puppy and you hated yourself for being the one responsible for how sad he looked. "What...? No. That's not possible, everything matched." He ran his fingers into his hair as he got up from the couch and paced around the living room. "What did it say? Where's the envelop? I wanna see." He looked back at you with incredulous eyes. "I shred it to pieces... It said..." You calmed your voice and took a deep breath. "It said my soulmate loves olives." You looked down at your hands on your lap and heard Jake chuckle. You frowned and looked up at him with confusion written all over your face. "This is not funny, Jake." You almost felt offended he would laugh about something like this. The soon-to-be-pilot stopped laughing and sat back down next to you, taking your hands in his. "I'm sorry, it's not. It's not funny. It's just that... I am your soulmate." He said with a soft smile. "Jake, no-" But before you could keep talking, he stopped you, placing his fingers on your lips. "No, I am your soulmate, Y/n. I love olives, I do." You frowned and took his hand, pulling it away from your mouth. "What? But..." You really didn't understand what was happening...
"You remember our first date in high school?" Of course you remembered, you skipped your last class of the morning to go get pizza and go to the park next to your high school. You shared one pizza and that's when you learned Jake didn't like olives. Well, apparently he did. You nodded and stayed silent, waiting for his explanation. "When you took that first bite into the pizza, I asked you if you liked olives. But not because I didn't like them, it was because I saw how much you loved them. I wanted to make you happy and I did. You were so excited to get my olives as well as yours. I just never told you so you didn't feel bad for stealing my olives." He explained and you let out a deep sigh. You felt your eyes water and you threw yourself in Jake's arms, embracing him tightly. "So we're still soulmates...?" You asked in the crook of his neck. "As long as you'd let me." He kissed the spot just between your neck and your shoulder before pulling away and looking straight into his eyes. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart..." He gently smiled and you giggled before kissing him deeply.
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hysteria-things · 2 months
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ONE
ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: guess who’s back in town: the sturniolo triplets. it’s for their birthday party their parents are throwing, the same party your parents force you to go to.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,054
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we’re locked in on the series, folks!
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you can’t go a day without seeing something along the lines of the sturniolo triplets, and it fucking pisses you off.
your parents went to high school with theirs and were really close. your mom got pregnant with you around the same time marylou got pregnant with the triplets, your “best friends.”
the same triplets that left you months ago because of their career of being youtubers. the least they could’ve done was still message you, but no. they unfollowed you on everything.
you texted them multiple times, but all you got was one-word answers or no answer at all. as much as you didn’t want to, you stopped trying after a while because it was no use.
your parents still hang out with marylou and jimmy, sometimes even justin when he’s in town. at least you got one more best friend that you grew up with, nathan doe.
nathan is the youngest out of the four of you. nick, matt, and chris are turning twenty tomorrow and nate’s turning nineteen on the ninth. you’ve been nineteen since april, so you’re right in the middle.
you guys met him in elementary school and he was the last piece of the puzzle. you guys were even called the FOREVER FIVE, something you all made up at a sleepover in the fourth grade.
of course the three stooges didn’t drop him when they left. favoritism, i guess.
you scroll angrily on tiktok. it’s like the app senses your hatred for them and decides to put edits or clips from their videos on your for you page. this shit is definitely not for you.
then, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. “come in.” you call out, and your mother comes in. she sits on your bed and sighs. “what’s up?” you ask.
she gives you a face of sympathy, and it scares you a little. “the triplets are back in town.” she starts, and that gains your attention. “and i want you to come with me and your father to their birthday party tomorrow.”
“no.” you flat-out say. it’s no secret that your mom knows about your hatred either since you cried to her for a week straight about how they abandoned you.
“y/n, please.” your mom puts a hand on your knee. “marylou would love to see you there. she asks about you, you know. she misses you.”
frowning, you start to think. you miss her too. you never blamed her for what her sons did, but you haven’t seen her since they left. she is the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. “and they’re celebrating nate’s birthday, too. you have to at least show up for him, okay?”
you exhale sharply. “okay.”
you pull up to the party the next day with your parents, making your way to the backyard where it’s held. not a lot of people are there, just close friends and family. you scan the area at the top of the steps for nathan, getting disappointed when you don’t see him.
marylou engulfs you in a hug the moment you step on the grass. “hello, sweetheart!” she exclaims, pulling away with a big smile on her face. she places her hands on your shoulders. “how are you doing? you feeling okay?”
“i’m doing fine!” you reply in the same tone, putting on a fake smile.
“thank you so much for coming. i know it’s been a little… strange for you for the past few months. i’m sorry about that.”
“please don’t apologize. you did nothing wrong,” you say and she pulls you back in for another hug.
“if you want, the boys are standing by the chips and dip. if not, don’t be afraid to make yourself comfortable.” she points to the numerous folding tables set up.
god, you missed this woman. “i will. thank you so much.”
you walk over to the table where your parents are, placing your things down before joining them.
“twenty years old is fucking disgusting.” nick rants, dipping a chip in onion dip and popping it into his mouth.
the other two giggle. “yeah, well—” chris pauses when he turns his head and lands eyes on someone. “holy shit, guys.” he taps both of his brothers on the arm.
“look.” he continues, pointing at you from across the way when he gets his sibling’s attention. “we have to talk to her.”
“chris, no.” matt says. “do you not know that she hates us? it was shitty, what we did. that’s honestly my biggest regret.”
“we are petty losers for that.” nick chimes in.
chris crosses his arms. he would do anything to get you back into his life. there was no specific reason why they did what they did. they ghosted a lot of old friends ever since they moved to LA, and you got unlucky. “fine. if you guys won’t, i will. i want to get my best friend back.”
“chris, wait! that’s not a good idea!” the two scream at him as he starts to march over to you, who’s now pouring pepsi into a red solo cup.
you gasp out of shock when you turn around and see a brunette towering over you. “hi.” he says lowly. “i didn’t think you’d come.”
“i came for nate.” you say coldly. “where is he?”
“he has to do something before he comes.” you move over to start walking, but he steps in front of you.
“chris—”
“i’m so fucking sorry.” he apologizes. “we miss you.”
“should’ve thought of that before you woke up one day and decided to pretend i didn’t exist.”
his heart aches at your words. the three of them really are assholes. “can we just start over? please?”
“start over?” you scoff. “we can’t start over after all of that. i practically known you since birth, and you want to start over?”
“y/n, i’m—”
you peek over his shoulder and cut him off. “nate’s here.” you eventually get out of his way and start to head over to nate, but stop and turn back around.
there’s a hint of hope in chris that you changed your mind, but he was wrong. “i kept the note.”
he furrows his eyebrows. “what note?”
ouch.
you laugh to yourself. of course, he doesn’t remember. “never mind. happy birthday.” you mumble, walking off into the crowd.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho
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thebestandrealestever · 9 months
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~NOT YOU TOO!~
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miles1610/hobie brown x black fem! reader
sum: miles cheats on reader w gwen, reader gets even 🤷🏽‍♀️
warnings : slang, the n word, cursing, cheating . emotional cheating. READER BEING PETTY unedited and not proofread
genre: angst, a lil of comfort?
a/n:i rly hope it don’t disappoint, part 2 w miles and reader make up eventually, cause i can’t stand writing miles as a dickhead. JUST A STORY, I DONT CONDONE CHEATING, DONT THIS TO PEOPLE.
- - - - - - - - - <\3 - - - - - - - - - -
first time in a long time.
hurting deeply inside .
there it was. the confirmation you so desperately needed to blow off on miles. you’d suspected he was messing with gwen for a little while now, him leaving you too go on missions with her that ONLY they knew about, being on facetime with her while he was at YOUR house, his highlight on instagram for her, not to mention the countless drawings of her around his room that he hid horribly, just a bunch of weird shit. you had conversations about it before but he always reassured you and gaslit you until you shook of the accusations. but now, now you knew he was cheating. miles was in the shower he left his phone on the nightstand, you looked long and hard at it. debating whether if it was a invasion of privacy, as you thought about it you get more and more upset. if gwen could be an invasion of your relationship then this didn’t really matter. you pick up the phone and put the password it, it’s his birthday (narcissist 🙄.) you go to gwen’s message thread, the blue heart next to it made you infuriated. your stomach twist and your eyes leak with tears that you don’t even try to wipe not wanting to miss anything. all of the “i love you’s” and the “im with her right now’s” made your fingers tremble as you scrolled farther into their text. why did he waste his time with you if he loved her? why would he do that to you? when did he fall out of love? what did you do? your thoughts quickly interrupted by the sound of the shower turning off you jumped up turned the phone off and put it in the same downward facing position wiping your face speed walking back to the bed pretending to watch tv.
“what’s going on now , ma?“ he asked referring to the episode you were watching. your face turned as you came up with a lie. “uh nothing really they just found out she was pregnant” you huffed, you’ve never been a good liar and miles could read your emotions like they were his own, you had no idea how you were going to go the rest of the night with him, so you didn’t. getting up from the bed you acted like your mom texted you to come home, frowning looking at the fake text. miles squinted at your pout, walking closer to you he said,
“you okay?” “my mom said i had to come home, she’s going out tonight and wants me to watch my sister, she’s sick” miles fake frowned “you want me to come with you?” he suggested walking to his drawers to get some clothes. you shook your head no “i don’t want you to get sick, it’s fine i’ll just facetime you okay?” you said as you picked up your purse and put on your shoes. ���okay at least lemme drive you home. can’t have my baby walking alone in the dark.” he joked as he put on his own shoes and jacket too. you internally cringed at his sentence reminded of who he also called his “baby”.
trust, trust who?
watching my back even when i’m in the booth.
ohh, trust who?
you’re in the passenger seat of his car, seeing the blue hair tie in the cup holder that wasn’t yours. you stared at it for a bit rethinking your entire relationship. he glanced at you, then the hair tye. he spoke up rubbing your thigh trying to get your mind off of it. “u wanna go to the mall tomorrow? we can get froyo.” he suggested knowing that you liked the froyo place in the mall, you knew he was trying to make you happy so you wouldn’t question the hair tye you just went along with it.
“yea okay.” you smiled warmly at miles not meaning it at all. his phone buzzed and you both looked down at it, the speed of which he grabbed it in was almost inhumane. you side eyed him closely as he swiped the opened the message then turned his phone off placing it into the cup holder facing away from you. as you pulled up to your house he leaned forward to peck your cheek, you couldn’t stand the feeling of his lips on your skin right you. “bye mami, facetime me later okay?” he whispered as he looked into your eyes with that same look on his face that made you swoon once before. “okay, i will” you said knowing you weren’t. as soon as you got into your room you cried, searching in your mind for a clue on why he was doing this to you. you’d tears interrupted once again as your phone buzzed, who was calling you and why couldn’t they go away ?? you checked it as a small smile speared on your face it was margo. margo kess had been your best friend since before you met miles, she worked at the same spidey agency he did , or whatever the fuck it was called. you answered wiping your tears. she was eating unti she saw your expression. “what happened??? why you crying boo?” she frowned at you through the screen “miles is cheating on me with gwen, i checked his phone” you chuckled through sniffles as her jaw dropped “what the fuck?? u exposed him his ass right ??” she shouted and you shook your head “i was in denial i guess, i still can’t believe this shit” “you know what you gotta do right?” she said and your face turned into a confused expression “what i gotta do?” she rolled her eyes “get even duhhhhh!! you way to pretty to let this nigga cheat on you with a big back ass bitch you know that.” you snorted at her compliment “ion know mar, maybe gwen didn’t know we was dating” you said trying to express grace to gwen.
“bitch how?? all that nigga do is talk about you, not to mention youre his lock screen.” you tilted your head in agreement, she spoke up again “and you been told his ass all that shit he did with gwen was weird and he didn’t stop it? if he wanna act nonchalant you can act notchabitch” margo smiled as she her attempt to cheer you up worked. “speak of the damn devil, guess who texted me.” you smirked as margo raised her eyebrow “don’t tell me you talm bout hobie.” you tried to fight the smile on your face as you clicked on his message
“hey, wyd rn?” the text read. margo sighed as she saw the smile on your face “HOBIE. HOBART BROWN?? really (name)? well i mean the way he looks at you is crazy, and i been saying y’all would be mad cute .” she shrugged as she resolved up her own feelings, you nodded as you thought about it . was this really what you wanted to do? hurt miles? nonono if he didn’t care about hurting you he can’t say shit when you do it back. you texted hobie back “nun rn, wby?” and he replied almost instantly “im bored, lemme come over?” you almost laughed at how you realized that hobie has never cared about your relationship with miles . you told him yes and you said your goodbyes to margo as you got ready for him to come over, eyes burning as you saw the multiple hoodies that miles owned .
“hey love.” hobie said as he walked into your room from the window, you always noticed hoboes accent but you never noticed how attractive it was until now. “hey hobie.” you said as he lifted your chin up with index and thumb. “you’ve been crying? what happened ?” he said trying to read your face. “um nothing just stuff with miles” he almost winced at the mention of miles, he would offen tell you that he wasn’t good for you, guess he was right. “what did he do now. something when gwen again i bet” you sighed deeply remember the messages in his phone again. “yea, he’s cheating i just found out.” hobie eyebrows furrow as you say this, if he didn’t like the way miles was treating you before, he definitely hated him now.
“i was just joking but, really? what the fuck? after everything you’ve done for him? i’m gonna murder him i swear to g-“ “hobie no, no don’t say anything. i’m fine i’m gonna deal with it myself.” you say pushing him back with your fingers. “at least let me make you feel better.” he said giving you a tight hug. he smirked as he said “you know i’d never make you feel like that.” you snorted into his chest pulling away, hobie grabbed your face with both hands and kissed your forehead. “you don’t deserve this ,(name) you deserve the entire world” he muttered , looking down at you with so much care. stand on your tipe toes to kiss hobie, he doesn’t kiss back for a while in shock but then he reciprocates it and you know you shouldn’t do this, that’s the exact reason why you did it anyway . you pull away looking up into his deep brown eyes, you needed this, comfort from someone that wasn’t hurting you. someone that wasn’t him. he kissed you again more aggressively this time. he pulls away this time only to catch his breath. he pecks your lips once , then twice. he smiles at you then walks to the bed and turns on the tv, you thought it was weird but you also didn’t want to talk about it, and definitely didn’t wanna do anything further. after watching tv with him at a uncomfortable distance you decide to address the elephant in the room.
“so, we not gon talk about that?” you turn off the tv before turning your head to look at him and he does the same “we don’t have to, you know i like you. but i don’t think you need that tonight, i think you just need me here.” he said and honestly, he was right. even though he had you all the way fucked up onna tuesday, you still loved him. you just nod at hobie and he kisses your cheek wrapping his arms around you so he’s spooning you, the way hobie is holding makes you think that he’s the only boy in the world. he falls asleep and you lie awake looking at the ceiling, you decide to go on instagram looking at people’s story until you see gwen’s story, it was a picture of her and miles in his car her feet up on the dashboard, the same car you were just in, the same car you had your first kiss in. that’s not even the half of it, the picture had a “besties” caption on it but you could tell from 20 miles away they were far from that. you take a picture of hobie asleep and post it, tagging him too copying the same caption as gwen had. after maybe 20 minutes miles replies to it “wtf? why are you letting hobie touch you like that? and i thought u had to watch your sister” “and i thought you and gwen were besties?” you reply back sending him the screenshots you send to your phone if gwen and miles text he starts blowing u up like crazy but you put your phone down and snuggle closer into hobie, maybe you could get even.
doing my own thing,
i’m down to come clean,
not like you.
lmk wat u think 😭.
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seresinhangmanjake · 7 months
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From Two to Four
Single Dad!Jake Seresin x Single Mom!reader
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Summary: a trip to the movie theater with your son becomes more eventful when you meet a man and manage to save his daughter's birthday from being ruined.
notes: this is going to be a mini series from @rosiahills22 request :)
warnings: none.
Words: 841
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PART 1:
Your arm is being yanked on but that isn't unusual. With the way your son is, you're surprised you've not had a trip to the hospital to have your shoulder shoved back into its socket. He's strong for his age, and with the handful he is already, you just know you're in for more surprises as he ages; ones you can only hope you'll know how to tackle on your own.
Jamie pulls you through small crowd after small crowd in his effort to make it to the treats. Only when you're in line does he drop your hand so he can press his nose against the glass shelf displaying every variety of candy he could possibly want. A sugar-high child was not in your plans for the day, but you refuse to dull his excitement.
"Mommy, can we get rainbow gummies?"
His voice blends with a sudden cry, and you turn your head to find a small girl leaning against one of the theater's decorative pillars. Her blue tutu is scrunched in her little hands, and the bedazzled tiara on her head is beginning to slip sideways. Softly brushing away her tears is a man crouched in front of her. He tries to right her crown as her finger shoots directly toward the large movie poster behind the man's head.
"Daddy!"
"I know, baby, I know. But it’s sold out," he sighs. "We'll come back tomorrow, OK? I'm sorry."
He stands straight and takes her hand, a look of utter heartbreak marring his handsome features when he begins to lead her past you toward the door. 
"Excuse me,” comes out of your mouth without a thought. 
When he pauses, the little girl nearly bumps into the back of his calf. His eyes meet yours, and the tenseness tightening his brow and the line of his lips soothes. 
“I don’t mean to bother you, but I have two extra tickets to the same movie if you want them."
A dark blond brow raises. “You’re going to see The Dragon Princess of Amethyst Mountain 2?”
“Well, the first one had such a gripping storyline." You chuckle at the amused expression on his face. “My son is with me,” you say and look behind you at the boy all but licking the glass case in anticipation. “Jaime, come here, sweetheart.”
Candy magically forgotten, Jamie bounds over to you with the widest of grins, stopping right beside you to stare up at the man.
“Hi!” he says loudly and clearly, with a certain confident authority only a four-year-old could possess. “I’m Jameson “Jamie”.
The man laughs. “Hi Jameson “Jamie”, I’m Jake, and this is Olive.”
Jamie’s eyes immediately go to the girl. His head tilts. “Like the snack?”
“Jamie, honey, don’t say–”
“Yea,” the girl pipes up, her tiny fist rubbing at the dried tears below her eye. 
Your boy's eyes light up, and you know what he's about to say before it exits his mouth. “I love olives!”
"Really?"
"Yep yep!"
Jake chuckles, releases his daughter's hand, and moves to stand beside you so he may join you in watching your children form an instant bond. 
"Just so you know," he says, leaning closer, "I didn't name my child after a food, intentionally."
You don't care what and why he named his child as you watch Jamie take an immediate liking to her. He needs a friend, and you've never seen him invested quite so quickly. 
"Hey, I don't judge," you reply, making the man laugh again. You're starting to like it. It's deep and husky and has an intoxicating element that wants to lure you into your own fit of giggles. 
"I'm Jake," he formally introduces, sticking out his hand for you to shake. You do so as you offer your name in return. "So how did you end up with extra tickets to the best movie in town?"
"I've got a sister who's a flake and a brother-in-law with a missing backbone," you say before clicking your tongue. "Which is a shame, honestly, because I think he really wanted to see it."
"Well, I hate to say I'm thankful for that, but you've just saved my daughter's birthday, so…"
"Daddy," Olive calls, her entire mood having taken a complete shift, "can we get rainbow gummies?"
"Sure, baby."
Jamie and Olive jump up and down, their hands tightly clasped together. Then your son hurriedly leads the girl back over to the candy case to show her everything she's about to enjoy.
"How old?" you ask.
"Four."
"So is Jamie."
As if on cue, Jamie looks back at you. "Mommy, and cookie dough bites?"
"Your boy's got a good appetite," Jake says, crossing his arms and nodding his head Jamie's way. 
"Oh, just you wait. He'll want–"
"And popcorn, Mommy?"
You snort. "See?"
Jake's eyes travel over your face, pulling forth a light blush that you can already feel heating your cheeks. His wide open lips display pearly whites, and there is a glint in his gaze when he says, "Well we better get them their snacks then."
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A/N: More to come for this little series! I hope you liked it :)
tags: @wkndwlff @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @kmc1989 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792
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harrysfolklore · 1 year
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birthdays with harry
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this was inspired by @sirtommyholland’s four years of birthdays blurb ! one of my fave blurbs ever <3 i hope you like this
happy birthday harry, i love you
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
2011 - 17th birthday
"Happy birthday, dear Harry, happy birthday to you!"
Harry smiled as everyone around him sang, the room full of the people he loved: his mom, stepdad, sister, bandmates that he loved like his brothers, friends from school and the girl who he was head over heels for.
His best friend and now his girlfriend.
"Make a wish, bro!" Niall cheered and ruffled Harry's curls for a second.
"All of my wishes are coming true right now." Harry said and the entire room awed, making him blush before blowing his candles.
After the cake was cut and everyone spread around Harry's childhood home, he looked for his girlfriend, finding her in the kitchen helping his mum put away some dishes.
"YN, would you go out with me for a minute?" Harry asked, still shy to call her pet names in front of his mum even tho Anne was ecstatic over the fact that Harry was dating the girl she adored like a daughter.
"Sure, let me just finish up these dishes."
"Oh don´t worry about it sweetie, I can handle them myself." Anne told her with a small smile and motioned then to go.
Once they were outside and away from the chatter and laughter, Harry stood in front of her and grabbed her hands.
"You know, I'm so happy you agreed to be my girlfriend." Harry shyly told her, still new to the feeling.
"And I'm so happy you asked me to be your girlfriend." YN said with the same shy smile on her face.
"No matter how big the band becomes, you'll always be my number one girl, I'll never forget about you." Harry told her sincerely, knowing it was one of YN's biggest insecurities.
Harry was just turning 17, but he made a promise that would last forever.
2015 - 21st birthday
"This party is insane!" Niall said as they entered the club where Harry's birthday party was taking place, the room full of celebrities and close friends.
"Damn, Jeff really went all out with this," Harry held his girlfriend's hand, keeping her close, "Do you want me to get you a drink?"
"I'm not drinking tonight."
"Why? It's my birthday, baby." Harry grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles softly.
"Exactly, and I want you to enjoy it. So no drinking for me so you can go all out." YN kissed his cheek softly, his long hair getting in the way and tickling her face a bit.
"I don't even want to drink that much tonight darling, don't want to have a killer handover tomorrow."
However, that statement was thrown out the window as Harry chugged down his 7th tequila shot of the night.
"Baby! Come up here!" Harry yelled, standing on top of the bar with Jeff's arm around his shoulder.
"Harry, get down, how did you even climb up there?"
"Tequila gives me special powers!" He started jumping up and down and that was her cue to get him down the bar with Glenne's help.
"My love! I've missed you." Harry obnoxiously wrapped his arms around her in a hug, placing sloppy kisses on her neck.
"Harry, you're hammered!" YN grabbed his face to look at him, his eyes giving away his drunken state.
"I know!" he let out a loud laugh, "I have an idea!"
And before YN could stop him, the music was going down and he had a microphone on his hand.
"Hello! Hello! Can everybody hear me?" Harry said into the mic, making everyone turn to look at him, "Sorry to interrupt your partying, I just wanted to thank my amazing friend Jeff for throwing this party for me."
At the mention of his name, Jeff let out a whistle and cheer, making Harry laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
"And I would also love to thank my incredible, stunning, gorgeous girlfriend YN for... just being hot and charming," he drunkenly spoke into the mic again, making YN blush and hide her face in her hands, "You know, I'm going to propose that girl one day! I will!
The entire room erupted in cheers and claps, and years later, the drunken promise he made on his 21st birthday became true.
2019 - 25th birthday
"Happy birthday, baby." Her soft voice made its way to Harry's ears, waking him up from his slumber and instantly smiling at the feeling of her lips pressing kisses to his jaw.
"Thank you, my love." He mumbled sleepily, tightening his arms around her and dropping his head to lean his forehead against hers.
After YN gave Harry his "traditional birthday shag", they headed downstairs to cook some breakfast before starting Harry's big day.
"How do you feel about being 25?" YN said as she took out the ingredients to cook him some pancakes, "Any expectations for today?"
"I just know it'll be my best birthday yet," he smiled softly as he watched her move around the kitchen, "You know, my first birthday as an engaged man, soon to be husband."
YN couldn't help but smile at the sound of that, still not quite used to the fact that they would be husband and wife soon.
"Who would've thought my high school boyfriend would become my husband." YN turned around to face him, meting his soft green eyes instantly.
"I always knew it," he shrugged before continuing, "I knew you were the one for me from the moment I laid my eyes on you."
Getting closer to him, YN grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his lips.
"I love you so much, baby. Thank you for letting me spend another birthday with you." she kissed him again her smile mirroring Harry's when they pulled away.
"This is just the beginning of the rest of our lives, darling."
And as Harry stood in his kitchen with his fianceé wrapped around his arms, he knew his 25 was going to be one to remeber.
2023 - 29th birthday
Harry found himself in the same position he was during his 17th birthday, in a room full of people he loved while the sang happy birthday to him.
But he wasn't on his childhood home anymore, he was backstage in Acrisure Arena surrounded by his tour crew, bandmates, managers, family members and his beloved wife.
"Blow the candles and make a wish!" Sarah said after they were done singing to him, and the words naturally came out of Harry's mouth.
"All of my wishes are coming true right now."
"Awe! You're all grown up now mate." Jeff hugged Harry tightly, making everyone in the room look at them fondly.
"Okay Azoff, that's enough, I need to give him his present now." YN said as he grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him out of the room.
"Make sure to be quiet! The walls are thin around here." Lambert joked making the group laugh, and YN only rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger to him before they were out of the room.
"Sooo, you're going to give me my present now?" Harry teased as they walked down the corridor to his dressing room.
"Not that kind of present, you menace," YN turned to look at him quickly as she opened the door to his dressing room, "That one is the reserved for when we're alone in our hotel room."
"Don't tease me, baby. I have a show in two hours." Harry said with a serious tone, making YN laugh as she approached the tote bag where she was keeping his gift, taking the box out and placing it on his hands.
"Okay, open it." YN took a step back and clasped her hands together, her nerves kicking in.
"Told you you didn't need to get me anything," he said as he opened the box, not looking inside of it yet, "I would've been more than satisfied with a 29 minute long blowj-"
"Just look at it!" YN cut him off before he could finish his sentence, making him laugh and turn his gaze to the box in his hands.
And when he realized what was inside, he froze at his spot and his eyes got instantly tearful.
"YN wha-" he stopped himself as his voice began shaking, "Is this...? I mean are you...?"
"I'm pregnant, Harry." She simply said, smile wide on her face and tearful eyes that matched his.
"Fuck," Harry finally took the pregnancy test out of the box and gave it a proper look, noticing the unmistakable two lines that indicating that his wife was expecting his child, "Fuck YN, you're pregnant, we're going to be parents."
"We are, baby." YN couldn't keep her cool anymore as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and making him wrap his around her waist, both of them letting out happy tears.
And in that moment, Harry knew that becoming a dad was the best way to end his twenties.
taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi i @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles
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talaok · 7 months
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ok first of all, I love your writing!!! a scenario just popped into my head and I found it so funny, the reader and Pedro have been dating for some time, Pedro doesn't want to have children but you were always good with children and after a children's party you went together and he realized (or thought) that you were strange when interacting with the children (which would be just tiredness) made him nervous and anxious thinking that you were frustrated because you wanted children and he didn't, during the night he can barely sleep and that means he gets up early and being impatient waiting for you to wake up, and at the first sign that you are waking up the first thing he says is: be honest, do you want to have children? and the reader is confused like dude it’s 7 am wtf??? I leave her answer and the end up to you and your incredible imagination, kisses 💋
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
a/n: no bc bestie I genuinely love this idea so much like omg im sorry if i didn't do it justice but tomorrow im getting some very fucking important news and my mind is a bit all over the place
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"Auntie!" 
Your beaming niece ran to you as soon as soon as you stepped into the backyard.
"There's the birthday girl!" you grinned, picking Nora up to give her a tight hug
"I missed you!" she squealed, as her small arms reached around your neck "You never visit anymore"
You snorted "Did your mom tell you to say that?"
The way your sister was biting down a grin told you all you needed to know.
"no" she mumbled, making you huff a laugh.
Your sister was raising the perfect actress.
"Well aren't you miss popular?" you gasped, looking around at all the children running around the place "These all your friends?" you asked, as she turned to follow your gaze
"yep" she nodded proudly "I basically know every kid at school"
"well there's something you didn't take from your mom..." you joked, raising your eyebrows at your sister
"hey!" she shot you a look
"I'm just saying" you shrugged "I don't remember your birthday parties being this big"
"oh shut up, you're one to talk" she rolled her eyes.
"hi Pedro!" Nora noticed him as he walked into the backyard with your sister's husband.
"hi Nora" he smiled, walking closer
"Is it your fault that y/n never visits anymore?"
Pedro was very much taken aback by the bluntness, but all you could do was chuckle.
"oh my god, I'm so sorry" your sister intervened, taking her daughter from you "Here why don't you go play with your friends?" she suggested, making her comply immediately.
"I swear I didn't tell her to say that" she promised, looking as mortified as she sounded.
"I know Alice" you grinned "don't worry"
"I'm sorry Pedro" she turned to him nonetheless.
"It's fine" he smiled that charming smile of his 
"Nora's just very..."
"Exuberant" her husband finished the sentence for her
"yes, exactly" she nodded
You laughed softly "That's definitely one way to put it"
The next hour was spent chatting at one of the tables Jeremy, your sister's husband, had set up on the lawn, and as you talked and ate, and drank more champagne than water the tiredness started to really make itself heard.
The flight from LA to Washington was six hours and a half, so you had to travel during the night, and as much as you wanted to sleep during it, you never were able to do so on planes.
So you were basically only running on coffee, and not even the good kind, no, the shitty airport one.
A tug at your hand brought you out of your own thoughts.
"Auntie!" your niece was saying
"sorry" you smiled down at her, setting your glass down "What's up sweetie?"
"come play Simon says!"
You had to fight the urge to groan. The last thing you wanted to do right now was to play a game with a bunch of screaming children.
"right now?" you asked
"Yes"
"but-"
"c'mooon," Nora moaned, jumping up and down a bit "I want you to meet my friends"
You sighed slightly as you stood up 
"lead the way birthday girl"
And as you disappeared behind a tree, dragged by your own niece, Pedro couldn't help but think
That was weird
And that same thought continued making its way into his mind over and over again.
You've never hesitated when it came to playing with Nora, you loved that kid so much you would have given her the world on a silver platter had she just said the word.
You weren't constantly taking pictures of her because you "wanted to remember every single moment with her" as you insisted every time, you weren't smiling every time you just looked at her either, and you weren't even entertaining the kids like you always did.
Fuck, Jacob and Alice used to tease you every time saying that they didn't need entertainers for her parties when you were there, that's how good you were with children.
Not that today you weren't good with them, Pedro could see and hear the laughs you'd elicit from the small crowd, but still, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong... and that he had something to do with it.
You were asleep beside him, and he didn't know if it was because you were in your sister's guest room and not in your own bedroom, or if was because guilt was clawing at him from within, but as much as he tried to sleep, his body opposed to it.
He was looking at you... so peaceful, so pretty, so beautiful and all he could feel was guilty.
He had racked his brain as to why you were acting weird for hours and then finally, thirty minutes ago he'd finally got it.
It was his fault
Of course, it was.
The only thing that had changed since you last saw Nora, was that talk you'd had that day at the park.
God, he was so goddamn stupid.
"Another reason as to why I don't want children" 
He'd said it so casually too, as a stupid joke, like it was nothing, without even thinking that maybe that's not what you wanted, that maybe he was ruining everything.
And now he'd fucked everything up, and panic was rising in his chest so fast that he worried in mere minutes he was gonna go into cardiac arrest.
And yes you'd told him you didn't want children too, but maybe you just said it because that's what he said and you probably hated him and-
Fuck were you ever gonna wake up?
he had thought about doing it himself but then realized how bad of an idea that was when he was halfway into shaking your arm.
He needed to talk to you. Now.
He needed to know, and to beg you, and to tell you to forget all about what he said at the park because it all went flying out the window when it was about you and-
Your eyelids fluttered, and shit but for a moment he pondered the existence of a god.
A whimper left your mouth as you readjusted your head on the pillow and he couldn't hold it anymore.
"Be honest"
Your eyes flew open in shock as your heart skipped a beat.
"Holy fucking- Jesus!" you breathed "You scared me, Pedro"
"Do you want children?"
Your eyes widened even more as your features filled with confusion 
"What the actual f-"
"I know that I said that I don't want kids, and I know that you agreed with me, but if that's not really what you want or if- if you changed your mind I want you to know that I-"
You propped yourself on your elbows to get a better look at him.
Was he fucking high or something?
"Pedro first of all it's..." you trailed off, glancing at your phone and groaning when you read the numbers on the screen "Oh my god" you sighed, running a hand down the length of your face "and second of all, what are you talking about baby?" you sighed, your voice softening as you took in his worried face for the fist time since you'd opened your eyes.
He took your hand in his
"I'm talking about the fact that I take it back- that if you want to have children then I'm sure I can make it work, that I love you y/n, and I don't want to lose you and that-"
"lose me?" you frowned, trying to squint your sleep away "Children?" you shook your head, trying to make some sense of what was going on "Pedro I- I'm sorry I thought we'd agreed neither of us wanted children?"
"Yes, but I understand if you've changed your mind"
"Why would I have changed my mind?" you asked, sitting up "Where is this coming from?"
"I just-" he looked like a sad puppy with those big brown eyes of his "You were acting weird today at the birthday and I couldn't help but think that-"
"That I wanted children?" you smiled, doing a poor job of hiding your amusement
"Well...yes"
"oh my god" you breathed, moving some messy hair out of your face "I was tired baby" you explained with a grin "I didn't sleep for shit on the plane and I wasn't exactly feeling like running around kids like I usually do"
Now was his turn to frown
"Really?"
"yes!"
"O-Oh"
"yeah, oh" you shook your head, still unable to get rid of the smile on your lips.
"Well this is embarrassing" he let out a low huff "I just... I don't know-"
you sat up to get closer to him as you inspected his face.
"Oh baby," you cooed, stroking his cheek "Did you even sleep?"
"I tried to" 
Your lips pulled into a sorry tilt as you intertwined your arms behind his neck.
"I don't want children baby" you said "I love our life exactly as it is"
"I'm sorry" he murmured
"No don't be" you shook your head, letting your forehead meet with his "It was kind of sweet to be honest" you beamed, leaving a quick kiss on his lips
"Did you really mean it? that you'd have children if that's what I wanted?"
And when he looked at you now, you felt as if he was staring right into your soul.
"Sweetheart" he murmured "I'm not sure there's anything on this earth I wouldn't do for you"
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roosterforme · 7 months
Text
Tramps and Troublemakers (Rooster x Reader)
Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. Written for an ask. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32
Warnings: angst and discussions of non-consensual kissing and touching (deals with the events from Deployment Diaries Part 9)
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Tramp had been in the Craftsman for all of two hours before he was eating pieces of steak out of your hands. "He's so underfed," you whispered to Bradley who was adding water to some dog food in hopes that your newest family member would eat some of it, too. "After some food and a little bit of love, he'll be just fine. He's a little damaged, but he'll come around."
"You know," Bradley said, shaking his head, "it literally sounds like you're describing me."
"Do I need to give you a bath, too?" you asked him sweetly as you pet the dog. 
"I can do that much myself," he grumbled as he reached for his phone. "Let's facetime my parents. I want to rub it in since they never let me have a dog."
You were still in your uniform, and your hair was a mess from work, but Bradley was already calling Goose and Carole before you could even stop him. When his mom answered, the first thing she said was, "Sweet girl, you look beautiful! Are you two lovebirds going out tonight?"
But Bradley turned the phone away from your faces and aimed it at Tramp. "No. We're staying in with our new dog."
Carole seemed decidedly less enthusiastic about Tramp than she did about a night out for the two of you. "Oh. He's... cute. Looks a little sickly. Did you pay money for him?"
Bradley was laughing as he said, "No, mom. Natasha found him in a drainage ditch, and I pulled him out."
"What a hero," you added, kissing his cheek. 
"He's a stray?" Carole asked, looking scandalized. "He could have rabies."
You looked down to where Tramp's head was resting on your knee, big brown eyes looking back up at you like you hung the moon. "He doesn't have rabies!" Bradley replied, scratching the pup behind his ears. "Put dad on."
A second later, Goose was looking at Tramp and saying, "I don't know why your mom never let us get a dog. This one looks nice and loyal. Can't wait to meet him." And then Bradley's dad took your mind away from the pure happiness that was a dog in your lap and brought you back to reality. "Just a few more days until you deploy?"
"Yeah," Bradley told him. And then he kissed your forehead and stood with his phone. "I'll be right back," he told you, taking the phone outside. You didn't mind so much that he wanted to have a private conversation with his dad, but it left you curled up on the floor with your filthy dog. Bradley would be leaving for another deployment soon, and you hated the idea of it. 
-------------------------
You got drunk at the Hard Deck. It was Maria's birthday. You were supposed to be having a good time. But you missed Bradley too much, so you went outside to get some fresh air. Just a few more days without him. You could make it. Carole was flying out tomorrow morning to keep you company and see Bradley when he got home. 
And that's when Josh joined you out on the deck. And maybe you should have had your guard up, but he was your coworker. So you smiled at him, expecting to joke around like you normally did. But then he was kissing you and touching you under your dress, and you couldn't figure out how to make your body move. It was all wrong. So, so wrong.
Jake was there, and he managed to help you put a stop to it, but all you could hear in your head as he and Bob drove you home was everything Josh said to you. 
"I've been dying to do that for weeks. Haven't you? Couldn't wait to get you alone." 
"You've been leading me on the whole time I've been here!" 
"I can tell you want to fuck me."
You threw up on your front yard. You threw up everywhere. You were shaking, and it was so hard to breathe. "Bradley's going to be so mad at me," you said over and over again as tears streaked down your face. 
"Calm down, Angel," Jake said as he guided you toward the couch and got you a glass of water. Bob took Tramp out for a little walk to wear him out, and you drank with shaky hands. 
"He'll never trust me again, Jake." 
"He's better than all that, Angel." And maybe Bradley was. But you felt like you deserved a punishment worthy of your crime: you hadn't listened to Bradley and Jake when they tried to warn you. And now you felt dirty inside.
And then it dawned on you that Carole would be arriving at the San Diego airport in the morning, and your tears only got worse. You tried your best to go to sleep while Tramp curled up in bed with you.
--------------------------
You had aggressively scrubbed your skin twice. Once in the bath last night and again in the shower this morning. Your stomach and throat were aching from the tightness of your tears and the number of times you'd vomited. Bradley was never going to forgive you, and now you had to face his mom alone. 
According to Jake, Bob was on his way back from the airport with Carole. He was sitting with you on the couch, one arm wrapped around you where you were bundled in a blanket. And you were holding onto Tramp like he was the last lifeline you had to your normal life before Bradley went away.
There were voices on your front porch, and you sucked in a deep breath as your front door was pushed open wide. "If something bad happened to her, then I'll take care of it," Carole was saying to Bob, her voice more shrill than you'd ever heard it before. "Oh... sweet girl."
Your face crumpled again. You knew you looked terrible right now as you counted down the hours until Bradley returned and started freaking out at you. But Carole just looked back and forth between you and Jake together on the couch, and you wanted to tell her that you didn't have eyes for anyone except her son. But when Jake stood, you watched Carole kiss his cheek as he murmured, "Mrs. Bradshaw."
She was still looking at you as you tucked your head against Tramp's neck and cried. "You two boys are sweet. But sometimes you just need a mom. I'll call you both later."
"Yes, Ma'am," Jake and Bob said in unison, and Jake kissed your forehead before they both left. 
When the front door closed quietly behind them, you looked up to see Carole standing in front of you with her hands on her hips and a soft expression on her face.
You took a shaky breath and said, "I didn't mean for it to happen. Bradley is never going to forgive me." Your grip on Tramp tightened as he licked your face. And when Carole reached for you, he whined like he was trying to protect you.
"Well, first of all, clearly I judged Tramp a little too harshly. Looks like he's been taking good care of you," she said softly. And then she ran her hand gently along your cheek and wiped away your tears. "But second, oh my goodness... Bradley is in love with you. You spend five minutes talking to him, and he'll remind you how good he is. I'm sure of that. And this other character, the one you work with?" Carole shook her head, blue eyes shining bright with something like pride. "Let's just say Bradley's a lot like his father. And while I don't condone violence, there's something to be said about a man who protects his own. Your coworker shows up again while my son is around, and he's leaving in a right messy state, I don't care how big he is."
Then she knelt on the floor in front of you and let Tramp get used to her for a few seconds. Your voice sounded tiny as you said, "Bradley tried to warn me about him. So did Jake." You squeezed your eyes shut. "I thought they were both being overbearing. And now I have to live with the knowledge of what it feels like to have Josh touch me and hold me down while he kissed me."
You gasped for air as Carole pried your hands gently away from Tramp's fur. Her voice was calm, and her face serene as she spoke. "He touched you. And he kissed you. But if he hit you or touched you in an intimate place, then I think you should let me take you to the hospital."
"He didn't," you whispered, so thankful that Jake was there last night. "He didn't. God, if he had, then Bradley would definitely dump me and kick me out."
"I think you're wrong about that," Carole told you, collecting you into her arms. "But I sure am happy you don't have to find out. Now let's get you in the bath and get a good meal in you."
You nodded and let her fill the bathtub and help you undress. And Tramp sat on the bathmat while you enjoyed the feel of the warm water taking the chill away from your body. And you thought about Bradley coming home soon. If his own mother thought he'd hear you out and listen to what happened, then maybe he would. He'd been the perfect boyfriend up to this point.
Carole knocked and poked her head back in. "Just checking on you," she said with a soft smile. 
"You can come in," you told her. "You don't have to knock. You just saw me naked. And anyway, I'm really happy you're here." Tears filled your eyes again, but for a different reason now. 
"Oh, sweet girl, this is your house, not mine," she said, kissing you on the cheek. "Yours and Bradley's. And Tramp's, since he's been such a good boy." You watched your dog's tail as it thumped against the floor. "But I'm happy I'm here, too. Because I get to spend a little time with you. And then when Bradley gets home, you'll be feeling much, much better. I just know it. Now, what do you want in your omelette?"
You smiled and told her, and she promised it would be ready in fifteen minutes. And once you were dressed in Bradley's shirt and some sweatpants, you were feeling a lot better. And you were able to eat your breakfast. And Carole's voice in the house kept you calm. And you weren't as scared to face Bradley as you had been a few hours ago.  
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garzasheart · 2 months
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general valeria garza headcanons
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summary: just valeria being her silly self + some relationship headcanons
author notes: nothing to say, i just love this woman
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━ valeria is definitely the type to watch telenovelas and pick sides when characters have conflict
━ walks around the house in a wife beater and boxers
━ always needs the air conditioner on and gets all bitchy if it isn't freezing cold
━ somehow wins every argument she starts even if she is in the wrong
━ unless it's an argument with you than she will let you win
━ listens to 90's spanish music and maybe even some 2000's american rap & rnb
━ if your first language is english than she will ask you what the lyrics mean in the american songs
━ loves tupac just because he can get real violent
━ says the most unhinged shit at random moments because in her mind it's normal. "amor, should we be buried together when we die?"
━ a total cat mom. on her list of people she will kill for is you and y'all cats
━ if you have her meet your mom, she becomes a total mommy's girl (because she misses her own mother) and always be like "how was my mom?" whenever you go to visit your mom alone
━ always has a grumpy lil frown on her face, but smiles when she sees you
━ if you introduce her to games her favorite is mortal kombat because it's violent & she always wins against you
━ chronic eye roller™
━ low-key sassy and doesn't give no fucks
━ super sarcastic especially when annoyed
━ figured out she was lesbian in her early twenties and was like "oh, that figures"
━ HATES bugs. will act like she's all tough if others are around and a bug is nearby, but by herself she moves as far away as possible
━ can actually cook pretty well
━ loves spicy food AND sugary food. she's just versatile like that
━ probably got addicted to coffee once when she was younger, but broke that addiction once she hit her 30th birthday because she refuse to let a little drink control her mood
━ has trust issues, attachment issues, abandonment issues, and commitment issues
━ a stomach sleeper 100%
━ doesn't care for holidays, but will go all out if you like them
━ a lil menace who sometimes acts like a bad ass little kid
━ "gimme a kiss" whenever you ask her to do anything
━ gets annoyed when you don't reply to her text messages right away. you take an hour to reply? alright see you tomorrow girlie because that's when she's going to text back
━ p e t t y
━ a little toxic but it's fine because she loves hard
━ once she found out how to do 0.5 photos just know that's how all the photos she takes of you are taken now
━ laughs loud asf when people fall. might even point too
━ loves freezepops in the summer and winter, no difference to her
━ loves to play fight and wrestle
━ if you two get a dog, she will always rile it up and than complain about it
━ dances a little when she's tipsy
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lovecanyon · 1 year
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Would you create a stepdad!harry trope? 😵😵
INSTAGRAM BLURB
stepdad!harry x y/n
MASTERLIST | PATREON
-
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liked by florencepugh, tchalamet and 2,205,814 others
yourinstagram little kids talk about the strangest things ever
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user11 y/n is such a good mom 😫
user17 SINGLE Y/N SINGLE Y/N SINGLE Y/N
alexademie i love you guys so much 🤍
yourinstagram and we love you more!
user15 can she adopt me…i am begging
emmalouisecorrin the sweetest little family ever
user19 i’m glad she looks so happy, jacob never deserved her
user13 y/n is literally thriving now
zendaya cuties 🥰
user18 her children are going to grow up with the world’s most loving mother
gisele yes they do!
user14 jacob is missing out so bad 😭
glenne_azoff can’t wait to see you three soon! 💖
yourinstagram concert time 🕺
user12 the most adorable family
alessandro_michele ❤️ 🍓 ❤️
user20 jacob lost the baddest woman ever
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yourinstagram via stories
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glenne_azoff it’s luca’s birthday tomorrow, let the whole world know!
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harry_lambert awe how cute 🥰
jefezoff luca is going to have the best birthday party ever
harrystyles Can’t wait to attend!
yourinstagram can’t wait to see you h ❤️
glenne_azoff i have my eyes on you two
pillowpersonpp me too!!!
kidharpoon you gotta love children’s birthday parties
alessandro_michele happy early birthday little darling luca 🎉
annetwist so adorable!
mitchrowland luca, my best bud
_basselin cutest little boy ever 🥰
gemmastyles harry said y/n was beautiful but not this beautiful
harrystyles Gemma.
yourinstagram i appreciate it harry!!!
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liked by harryfan28, harryfan24 and 620,813 others
harryflorals HARRY AT Y/N L/N SON’S BIRTHDAY PARTY TODAY!
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harryfan20 his outfit 🙏
harryfan25 I SERIOUSLY LOVE HIM
harryfan29 it’s giving stepdad harry
harryfan22 we need stepdadrry…it’s a must
harryfan26 DOES THIS MEAN WHAT I THINK IT MEANS
harryfan30 omg omg omg
harryfan21 y/n went to harry’s show the other day and then he is at her son’s birthday party…what is happening
harryfan23 jacob was probably in the corner shaking
harryfan27 harry is the cutest ever 😭
harryfan31 his fit is literally dad harry
harryfan34 i thank god everyday for letting me live the same time as harry styles
harryfan36 didn’t y/n just break up with jacob?
harryfan32 they broke up last year but didn’t announce it until last week…
harryfan35 jacob: 👁 👄 👁
harryfan37 leave y/n and her kids alone…you guys are weird
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yourinstagram happy birthday to my best friend! you are truly the best company ever, every single minute i spend with you makes me a better person. i love you bubba!
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harryfan40 THIS IS SO CUTE
harryfan43 i just noticed luca looks like jacob so much… it’s insane
harrystyles Happy birthday bubba!
yourinstagram lu said thank you 🥰
harryfan46 STEPDAD HARRY I’M CRYING
harryfan48 i dropped down onto my knees after i read his comment
glenne_azoff it’s luca’s day!!!
harryfan41 he’s so adorable
pillowpersonpp HOW SWEET ❤️
harryfan44 this is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen
harry_lambert plain cuties
harryfan49 y/n constantly proves everyone that she’s a better parent than jacob
alessandro_michele luca has the best mother, he’s so blessed
harryfan42 mother of the year award goes to…y/n!
gemmastyles have the best day luca 💖
harryfan45 she parents so well
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jacobelordi Please read.
(comments have been disabled)
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ayaeyamamoto pre harry show!
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harryfan55 SHE IS SO GORGEOUS
harryfan50 @harrystyles don’t fumble the bag…
harrystyles Such a beautiful woman.
yourinstagram i adore you sue! ❤️
harryfan57 did he just…
harryfan52 i can’t blame harry at all, y/n is so beautiful
pillowpersonpp she took my breath away
harryfan54 MILF MILF MILF 😫
harry_lambert the most prettiest
harryfan58 you just know jacob is punching the wall right now 😭
harryfan51 he fumbled the bag so bad
annetwist so gorgeous darling 💖
harryfan56 how can you break up with this woman…
glenne_azoff that’s my beautiful best friend!
harryfan59 y/n’s beauty is unmatched
_basselin she is really stunning
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tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @seguin-styles1996 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @kaitieskidmore1 @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @b-reads-things
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spencest · 2 months
Text
FIRST... DATE?
pair: Spencer Reid x fem!YN Hotchner
synopsis: Gideon gives Spencer tickets to a Bruins game, with the excuse of inviting Y/N. However, things don´t go as they both planned after he asks his friends for advice.
warnings: none, just fluff, corny, and awkward Spencer
inspired by: S1 E4: “Plain Sight”
words: 2,2k
A/N: Sorry, this is really bad. This is the first one, i promise the rest will be better. Take it as an introduction to the story
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Y/N'S POV
it had been one of those cases that left you thinking for a few hours, so i decided to settle into my seat on the jet, trying to find something that could distract me. It was then that my gaze went to Spencer, who as always was playing chess with Gideon.
i couldn't help but feel bad for him, his birthday had been interrupted by a case, and one of those that left you with the worst feelings. He didn't even complain when he had the chance, i just saw his joy fade when my dad interrupted the little celebration we had prepared for him.
i wanted to continue with the celebration that Morgan, Elle, JJ and i had prepared for him, but i know that my friends were too tired and that he would probably refuse this time.
i let out a sigh, remembering the way he smiled when he saw the cake, or the way he kept trying to beat the infinite candles despite explaining him why it wouldn't work.
my chest felt warm when that happened. Spencer has a comforting smile, the kind you would love to see over and over again, because he will always give you that nice feeling.
you would know he was a sweet, innocent soul just by seeing him smile.
a clearing of the throat brought me out of my thoughts, it was coming from my side so i turned my head to see who was calling my attention.
it was Spencer.
- hey, uhm... Gideon just gave me some tickets to go see the Bruins tomorrow, and i found out that you really like them... - After saying that there was silence, i looked at him for a few seconds, waiting to see if he would say anything else.
- uh yeah, actually i love them, why?
- well, i wanted to know if you... uh.... wanna go with me to watch the game - i saw him playing with his hands and looking towards Gideon's seat.
i felt my cheeks heat up, was he inviting me to a Bruins game? me?
i cleared my throat, trying not to make my nervousness so obvious.
- sure, i'd love that, Spence
i saw his cheeks turn red in the same way, which made me feel a little more confident.
after that we stayed talking for a few minutes, agreeing on a time to see each other before the game and once ready, Spencer sat down with Gideon again, but not before turning to look at me before sitting down.
JJ suddenly appeared next to me, smiling.
- so, a date with Reid? - She murmured as she sat next to me.
i hit her with my elbow, embarrassed again.
it's not a date, it's just hanging out as friends.
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once i got to my apartment i started to prepare dinner. After dinner i usually call my mom to talk to her about my day and keep in good contact.
she's my best friend, the only person in the world i would tell everything to. Even if it means having my dad listen to some of the conversations from time to time, especially now that my little brother Jack has born, since he usually comes into the room he shares with her, telling her that Jack misses his mother, and then he just didn't come out again.
however, the ringtone on my phone alerted me while i was cooking, so i quickly took it out of my pocket.
INCOMING CALL
mama
- hi? - i asked her, fearing that something had happened.
- when were you going to tell me? - she asked me, with a very serious tone of voice, so much so that she scared me.
what did i do?
- what are you talking about, mom? - The nervousness was clear
- about your date with Spencer!
wait... what?
- how...? - Then something clicked in my head. - was it dad?
- it doesn't matter! why hadn't you told me?
- i was just getting home! you know i always call you after dinner. - I tried to defend myself, but i heard her snort on the other side of the line.
- this is more important than routine! it's your first date since you broke up with...
- it's not a date. - i let out a sigh.
- your dad said it's a date.
- don't believe him anything!
- what are you gonna wear?
- i don't know, he'll take me to watch the Bruins game...
i heard her scream, which made my eyes widen.
- is he going to take you to watch the Bruins game? Y/N, honey, that's a date.
- but…
she interrupted me and started giving me advice for “the date.”
my noodles were forgotten when i heard her enter the non-verbal language tips.
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- hey, Spence. - i greeted him, watching him quickly get out of his car to get to the passenger side and open the door for me. - Thank you
after getting in and closing the door, i hurriedly put on the seat belt while he returned to his place.
- hi Y/N, you look... g-good - i heard him stutter.
my clothes were pretty casual. I decided to ignore much of the advice i received the night before, choosing to be myself.
this is what i would wear to watch the Bruins, but a little prettier.
- thanks, Spence. You look good too.
he looked quite formal, but still casual. It wasn't exactly the same outfit i would see him in on a day at work.
i have to admit, it looks more than just “good.”
his cheeks reddened as he began to drive. A somewhat uncomfortable silence settled in the atmosphere.
- is this your first time watching the Bruins?
- do you wanna eat something?
we both asked at the same time, so we looked at each other a little surprised, and then started laughing.
- for me it would be nice to eat something before going. -I decided to answer his question, still laughing a little.
- cool, i actually know a place near where we should go
he started to tell me a little about that eating place, but i noticed that he sometimes stopped himself when he felt like he was talking too much, so i tried to ask more. I want him to feel comfortable today. I want him to be himself.
when we arrived he asked me not to get out of the car, and instead he got out, walking around the front until he reached my door, which he opened for me.
after unbuckling my seat belt i got off and we both started walking inside the place.
calm music played in the background, and the atmosphere was cozy. I saw some families eating quietly at some of the tables. The conversations were not so loud, there was no smell of food, the colors were pleasing to the eye.
it was the perfect place to go to eat, so i turned to see Spencer, smiling at him and thanking him with my eyes for that.
we quickly found a table and went to sit down. The silence is more comfortable now, but i still feel like Reid was avoiding talking and that was getting me a little upset.
- is everything okay, Spence? -His eyes widened, he seemed surprised, almost scared by the question.
- yeah, why do you ask?
- for no reason, don't worry. - I smiled at him again, trying to convey confidence. - And tell me, is this your first time watching the Bruins?
- oh, n-no, no. I had already gone before. - He was quick to respond.
that surprised me. He doesn't seem like the type of person who is passionate about hockey. It almost sounded like a lie
- really? what other game have you gone to? - I rested my elbows on the table, getting a little closer to him.
- well... - He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were trying to remember. - i went to see the one a few days ago against Pittsburgh
before i could ask anything else, a waiter came to us with two menus in his hands.
- hi, sorry to interrupt you, here's the menu. In a few minutes i'll come back. - We both nodded, watching him leave.
during our stay at the place i decided not to ask him any more questions about hockey, focusing on knowing a little more about his personal life, about the things he does outside of the BAU. I discovered his passion for certain writers, and i even tried to convince him to read some novels, arguing the entertainment it would bring to his life.
he seemed more relaxed at that moment, his shoulders no longer looked tense and he no longer stuttered. He was being him for a moment and that really made me happy.
once we finished eating he offered to pay, being faster than me and paying before i could even say anything to him.
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the game had already started, it had been 10 minutes since it had started and Spencer didn't say a word. He was attentive watching the game.
normally someone would think that he was just enjoying the game, but from the corner of my eye i could see him moving in his spot and playing with his hands constantly. That distracted me, so i couldn't really focus too much on the game the Boston Bruins and the Florida Panthers were playing.
- Spence, are you okay? - He was startled when i called him
- Yeah! Why? I don't look good? - He stammered again
- Spence, do you really like hockey? -I saw him bite the inside of his cheek, still playing with his hands, so i decided to take one of his hands when i noticed that he was distracted by his thoughts.
- Not really, i mean, i'd never been interested in hockey before, but Gideon gave me the tickets and…- His voice was getting faster, so i gently squeezed his hand, making him stop. - Sorry, i shouldn't be talking so much either.
- What are you talking about? Spence, it's okay if you don't like this, we can leave and do something else if you want. -I offered him, but he started to shake his head, telling me no.
- No! Well i... actually i wanted to learn so i could understand it and that you wouldn't be the only one who know about this but... uh, when i had everything ready they told me to try not to give so many data or statistics and to be more of a gentleman, but they don't understand that if If they take away my statistics, things get a little more complicated and i... - He started talking faster again, so i squeezed his hand again.
- Spence, who told you that?
For a moment i saw him hesitate
- Well... Morgan... JJ... Elle...
i let out a sigh, relaxing my shoulders, which i didn't even notice were tense.
- Spence, i don't want you to stop giving me your data and statistics, even if that means you´ll tell me all the time. That's fine with me, i love it when you do it.
his cheeks turned red again.
- Really? I know it can be suffocating and i don't know when to stop...
- Really, you can tell me whatever you want, i just want you to be you, relax and do what you really want to do. So, do you wanna keep watching the game or should we leave?
- I wanna continue watching it, the truth is it's quite entertaining to analyze the possible plays, plus the Bruins are playing better, so i can't take this opportunity away from you.
i smiled at his words. That's when we were finally able to concentrate. Spencer talked to me the entire game about different tactics they could use, or why the other team was losing.
and yes, we earned bad looks from those near to us.
and yeah, maybe i still don't know if this was a date or just hanging out as friends.
but i know that i have a beautiful experience to tell mom that same night, and three people to hit when i see them.
Spencer is a lovely person, and getting to know him better helped me see that comforting smile again. Even at the end of our date / not / date he hugged me for a few seconds. For a moment I feared that he might feel my strong, rapid heartbeat against his chest, but if he did then he didn't show it, and that's something I was grateful for.
Spencer, what exactly are we doing?
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kitashousewife · 11 months
Text
“happy birthday shoyo!” your cheery voice cuts through the quiet room and hinata chuckles. it’s midnight in brazil, but you’re many hours ahead.
“thank you baby,” he rasps, voice tired and eyes a little sleepy after the long day. “are you up to anything fun today?”
you scoff, eyebrows raised from where you stand in your kitchen.
“that’s it? it’s your birthday sho! this isn’t about me,” you wave your hands dismissively and your boyfriend laughs.
truth be told, hinata was dreading his birthday. another day in a different country, far from his family and friends. based on how his phone is blowing up, it doesn’t seem like anyone forgot, but it’s just not the same. no special breakfasts, no traditions, no forced photos in front of his cake by his mom. just another day.
“i’m gonna sleep in, that’s for sure,” he sighs, flopping onto his back and holdimg you in the air. “i’m sure i’ll get a call from my mom and natsu, maybe tobio. but if not, no worries.”
“no worries?” you shriek. “shoyo it’s your birthday for crying out loud! you deserve the world every day, but especially today.”
he smiles at your frantic state, heart swelling at just how much you care and worry for him. every day he gets a reminder text from you about sunscreen and water, another about eating a good meal, and you’re always asking him to rest more than he would like to. you care so much, and he’s not sure what he would do without you.
“okay, okay,” the hand not holding his phone raises up. “i think i’ll sleep in and head down to the coffee shop i like and grab something to eat,” he thinks for a minute. “then i’ll come home, change, head to the beach for a few games, and then maybe mess around in the water. i’m sure it will be hot tomorrow.”
“don’t forget your sunscreen,” you advise, standing in your kitchen preparing lunch. you miss how hinata mouths exactly what you said, while you said it.
“oh, are you kidding? i would never,” he shakes his head, holding back a smirk when he sees you raise an eyebrow.
“the red on your chest says otherwise.”
ignoring the slight burn on his skin, he continues.
“there’s a spot pretty close to me that has the best food, the one i was telling you about a couple weeks ago. i’ll probably get dinner there, maybe pick up a treat on the way home, and then relax for the night. nothing too crazy.”
“please check your mail at some point! i won’t say why, but it might be a good idea to stop by,” you smile and hinata rolls his eyes. “but that sounds like a good birthday, sho.”
he nods, now very sleepy after feeling comforted by your voice.
“i’m really sorry i couldn’t spend your birthday with you.”
his heart sinks for a second, but he does his best to pull himself together.
“it’s okay baby, it will be a great day regardless. besides, i got to talk to you first thing on my birthday, so it’s already perfect. i’ll be sure to keep you updated on the day. it will be like you’re right here!”
he yawns, eyes getting heavier by the minute as he gets comfortable in his mattress. he ac hums in the background, slowly lulling him to sleep.
“get some sleep shoyo. i love you! happy birthday,” you smile wide and he grins. he mumbles a very tired i love you before hanging up. you put your phone in your pocket and grab the suitcase that sits near your front door, packed and ready to go.
if everything goes smoothly, you should be at the birthday boy’s door just in time for his breakfast run.
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