Black Silk
Status: One-Shot
Pairing: Jack Russell x Fem!Reader
Words: 4.8k+
AN: There is a heartwrenching lack of Jack Russell content on Tumblr, so I'm here to throw my hat in the ring. Enjoy a whole lot of fluff and, yes, sensual sniffing with everyone's favorite wolf boy.
Read my other Jack Russell works here and here.
Translations:
"Cautivante" — "captivating"
"Mi amada" — "my darling," "my love"
"Señorita" — equivalent of "miss"
"Lo siento" — "I'm sorry"
. . .
When you see the dark figure walking along the side of the bustling highway, you’re sure it’s for the first time. After all, you’ve been driving this route every day for years now; you know it like the back of your hand. In your swiftly moving car—hey, so what if you like driving six miles over the speed limit at all times, sue you—you aren’t able to catch many details. A dark outfit and mop of ruffled hair is all that your mind absorbs in the brief moment you have to gather information. As you fly past, your eyes linger on the figure in your rearview mirror.
Are they lost? Having car trouble? Homeless? Your heart clenches as you watch several other cars pass up stopping for the stranger in addition to your own. You’ve listened to enough true crime podcasts to know some core rules to live by. Sure, none of them explicitly stated, ‘Don’t pick up strangers off the side of the highway,’ but you felt you could gather as much from context clues. Still, as the figure’s form grows smaller in your mirror, you find yourself heaving a reluctant sigh. It’s unusually cold for late October—under forty currently, with a low of twenty-nine degrees expected tonight—and the sun will set in just a handful of hours. If you’re driving with your seat warmers on, you know the stranger must be freezing. You don’t think they were even wearing a coat.
After you’ve pulled off the side of the road, you throw the gear in reverse to close the distance between yourself and your stranger. The figure stops in the glow of your red tail lights, anticipating your approach. When you’re several feet away, you throw the vehicle in park, grab your bottle of pepper spray, and slip out of the car before you can change your mind.
The face that greets you when you turn around is…endearing. Your stranger is a middle-aged man with warm-toned skin, a prominent nose, and a strong, square jaw. His salt-and-pepper hair looks like it’s been freshly touseled, complimenting the dark shadow of stubble along his jaw. His green eyes are wide as he stares at you, his pale pink lips parted in surprise.
Standing here with his startled eyes upon you, you suddenly feel incredibly awkward. Maybe he didn’t want to be helped. Maybe he was perfectly fine walking on the side of the highway. Then, a frigid wind whisks past you, cutting right through your cashmere sweater, and you decide no, there was no way. This guy was dressed in nothing more than a plain black crew neck sweater and dark jeans. It was impossible for him to not be freezing.
“Uh, hi,” you greet him awkwardly with a small, sheepish wave. “I’m sorry, I know this is really abrupt, but I just saw you walking on the side of the road and…aren’t you freezing?”
The stranger’s eyebrows jump upward in surprise. He looks down at his clothes as if wondering to himself, ‘Should I be cold?’ He lifts his head to look at you again. “Uh, no. I’m not, actually.” His voice is soft, lilting slightly with a distinct accent. He offers you a small smile. There’s something about the slight crook of his teeth on the upper left hand side of his mouth that melts the awkwardness from your bones. “I guess you could say I’m pretty warm blooded. I always run a little on the hot side.”
You nod thoughtfully, though you really can’t fathom how he’s not freezing his ass off right now. “Okay. Well, why are you walking out here? Where are you coming from?”
“Ah, my friend and I recently moved here. I live just that way,” he explains with enthusiasm, pointing one hand toward the expansive forest sprawling off the side of the highway.
Your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. You’ve lived in this area all your life, have spent countless weekends walking the trails in those very woods. You know no one lives within them. Is he homeless, then? you wonder. Deeming it rude to pry, you instead respond, “Oh, okay. Well, is there anywhere you want me to take you?”
The stranger’s eyebrows raise again, as if this thought had never occurred to him. “Actually, I was just walking to town to get coffee for my friend and I. Once a month we have a bit of…a, uh…a wild night, you could say. I was trying to get prepared before dark.”
You purse your lips, debating on how to give him the bad news. He definitely must be new to the area. “Well, I hate to tell you this, mystery man, but you’re moving away from town.” You point your finger in the opposite direction of where he was walking, back toward where you’d driven from. “Town is about twenty minutes that way.”
The stranger’s face falls at your words. Something about the tender disappointment in his expression reminds you of a kicked puppy. Your heart clenches at the sight. “Oh,” he says softly, seemingly at a loss for words.
You offer him a friendly smile, seeking to lift his spirits. “I could drive you, if you wanted.” The words are out of your mouth before you even have time to contemplate them. What the fuck? the logical, true-crime-podcast-obsessed part of your mind hisses. Your pitiful heart pushes back, still insistent on helping this poor, coffee-needing, puppy-esque man.
The stranger’s eyes brighten for a moment, glimmering a brilliant shade of grassy green. But then he lifts his hands, as if in apology. “That is very kind of you, señorita, but I must decline. I really need to be back before dark.” His voice is slightly anxious as he raises his hand to scratch behind one ear.
Señorita. Your heart melts slightly at the word. Why were accents always so damn endearing? You shake your head at him. “Nonsense. If you need to be back before dark, that’s all the more reason for me to take you. You’ll never make it back in time on foot.”
The stranger seems to weigh this hefty truth, nibbling his bottom lip in thought. The crook in his teeth peeks out at you adorably. Staring is rude, you chastise yourself, tearing your eyes from the sight. After a long moment of hesitation, he gives a slow nod. “Alright, you’ve got me. I thank you for your generosity.”
You give him a wide, toothy grin, beckoning him back toward your vehicle. As he climbs into the passenger seat, you quirk an eyebrow at him expectantly. “No thanks needed, mystery man. I will, however, require payment in the form of your name.”
The stranger gets to work making himself comfortable, burrowing his back into the warmth of the heated seat. He peers at you out of the corner of his eye at your question, watching you curiously. After a long moment, his lips draw into a slow smile. “Jack. Jack Russell,” he says quietly with a nod of affirmation.
Your lips upturn slowly, mirroring his. “Well, Jack Russell, it’s nice to meet you. Now, let’s go get you that coffee.”
. . .
The more you observe your new friend during your drive, the more convinced you are that his spirit animal would be a dog. Jack rides with his high cheekbone pressed against the window, his green eyes bright and curious. The radiant, warm-toned fall foliage passes by in a blur outside, along with birds, cars, and road signs. His eager eyes flicker about, taking in all of it in rapid succession. Your heart flutters at the earnesty in his gaze, the bone-deep contentment in his expression. If picking up this handsome, puppy-eyed stranger off the side of the highway was how you became the subject of one of your true crime podcasts…well, so be it.
Several quiet minutes into your drive, you clear your throat quietly, seeking to break the silence. “So, Jack, where are you from?”
Jack’s gaze lingers on a small cluster of deer grazing beside the treeline before he draws his eyes to you. When he does, his gaze is all-consuming, attentive. Having grown up in a world with constant sources of distraction, the sheer intensity of his focus on you is startling. “I have lived in many places, actually. I typically do not stay in one space for too long. My work keeps me busy.”
Your heart clenches slightly at his admission, and you mentally chastise yourself for it. Why be disappointed that he doesn’t stick around? It wasn’t as if you were liable to see him again, anyway. “Oh, I see. Well, what do you do for work?”
A heavy pause. “I hunt monsters,” he says seriously.
His words hang in the air for a long moment, suspended. Then, your abrupt laughter fills the car. Sure, the two of you might live in a world of spidermen, aliens, and tech genius superheroes, but you had never heard of any monsters. Jack gives you a cheeky grin, the quiet rumble of laughter in his throat joining in with yours. “Ah, a comedian, then,” you comment, shooting him a knowing glance. “And your friend? What do they do?”
Jack’s eyes turn to the ceiling of your car, that warm grin still plastered on his face. “I suppose you could say we’re a traveling duo,” he says simply.
You shake your head incredulously, a soft chuckle purring in your throat. You’re inclined to pry more, but think better of it. After all, you’d only asked for his name in payment for the ride, not his entire life story. “You said you had a wild night planned. What are you up to?”
Jack’s olive green eyes turn to you again, dancing in the low light of the late-afternoon sun. His cheeks are flushed pink from the warmth of the car. “We’re going to…watch the moon,” he responds.
Now, that one makes you deadpan. “Watch the moon,” you echo, eyebrows lifting in surprise.
Jack only hums in response, affixing you with a closed-mouth smile and a self-satisfied gaze. His eyes twinkle in challenge, as if to say, ‘You don’t believe me?’ You pin him with a knowing look and a smirk of your own as you flick your blinker on, turning into the approaching Walmart parking lot. “Alright, mystery man, keep your secrets,” you say with a laugh. “We’re here. Let’s get you that coffee so you can get on to your…moon watching.”
Pulling into the first parking spot you see, you turn off the car and exit it swiftly, Jack following quickly behind you. Though nightfall is a little over an hour off, you want to be conscientious of his need to get home before dark, especially if he was going to be trekking through the woods. As you walk toward the grocery entrance, Jack’s head moves on a swivel, taking in the sight of customers coming to and from the building like a kid in a candy store. Lost in thought, he nearly walks directly into an elderly woman pushing her cart toward her car. Jumping back just in time, he murmurs a sheepish, “Lo siento,” and bows his head in apology before shuffling after you. An amused chuckle rises up in your throat, and you trap it behind a smile.
As the two of you approach the grocery entrance, you spy the familiar sight of a Girl Scout’s booth set up just outside. A young girl, likely not even ten-years-old, stands beside the booth, her scout’s sash displayed proudly over the thick coat she wears. She bravely steps forward as customers enter and exit the store to give her brief sales pitch. Your heart aches at the crestfallen expression on her face when customers respond with gentle denials. Your hand is dipping into your purse before you even realize it, your fingers clasping onto your wallet.
“Hi,” you say kindly as you and Jack come to a stop beside her booth. She turns toward you quickly, all bouncy black curls and brown doe eyes. You give her a radiant smile as you hold out a handful of bills. “I’ll take a box of Tagalongs and Adventurefuls, please. And you can keep the change.”
The girl positively beams at you as she accepts your money with tentative fingers. When she places the boxes in your hands moments later, you add with a wide smile, “Thank you so much. You have no idea how you just made my day.”
Tagalongs and Adventurefuls in tow, you and Jack walk into the store with purpose in your step. As your eye searches for the aisle marker labeled ‘Coffee,’ you can’t help but notice Jack staring at you out of the corner of your eye. At first, you think it’s just a momentary glance, but when you still spy his face turned toward you after several seconds of walking, you turn to look at him fully. He’s pinning you with the same thoughtful gaze as he had in the car, all closed-lipped smiles and twinkling eyes. As if he’s collecting observations of you and bottling them up, studious impressions reserved for him and him alone.
Suddenly acutely self-conscious, you give him a nervous smile. “What is it?” you ask, voice quiet with hesitation.
Jack’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he dips his head to his chest, his eyes never straying from yours. “You are very kind, señorita. Helping strangers as you do.” His voice is soft and earnest, each word carefully crafted and caressed as they pass the curve of his pink lips. He seems to smile a little wider as he adds, “Myself included.”
Your lips part slightly in surprise at his statement, heat flushing your cheeks in a rush. Was it hot in this Walmart or what? You’d need to tell a manager that the thermostat was a little off if you spotted one. “Well, I’m definitely not perfect, but the world desperately needs more kindness. I try to do what I can,” you say bashfully. Seeking to divert the focus of conversation from yourself, you fix him with a knowing gaze. “You seem like a pretty nice guy yourself.”
Jack chuckles quietly at you, turning his olive green eyes to the aisle signs overhead. “You are too generous to this stranger, señorita. I try to be as kind as I can. I struggle once in a full moon, but I suppose we all do.”
You giggle good-naturedly at his slip. “You mean once in a blue moon?”
Jack’s lips part slightly, his expression one of genuine surprise. However, it lasts only a moment. He quickly gives you a sheepish grin, raising a hand to scratch hastily behind his ear. A nervous tick, you supposed. “Uh, yes, right. Of course.”
Within moments, you find yourself alongside the coffee aisle. You dip into it swiftly, Jack following only a step behind. You come to a stop in the center of the coffee section, a wide array of possibilities available before you. “So, what kind are you looking for?” you ask expectantly.
Jack’s eyes rove over the options quickly, seemingly seeing everything and nothing at once. His dark brows knit inward as he admits, “I…I’m not sure. My friend, Ted, normally gets the coffee. I haven’t any idea what I am looking for.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. If this man had no idea what type of coffee to get, there was only one way to proceed. “Black Silk,” you say matter-of-factly.
Jack turns to you slowly, confusion pinching his handsome features. “Black silk?” he echoes, the words rolling off his tongue without recognition.
You nod wholeheartedly, eyes imploring and earnest. If there was one way you could truly help this man today, it would be this. “Yes. Folgers’ Black Silk. The only option when it comes to purchasing coffee. Especially if you don’t know where to start.” You beckon him toward the shelves of familiar red containers. Your trained eye finds the black-labeled tub instantly, and you crouch down, grabbing the largest option with eager fingers. “Let me tell you, mystery man. This coffee right here? A life changer.”
“Oh.” Jack’s eyes are wide as saucers as he looks from you, to the container in your hands, and back to you. One corner of his full lips creeps upward as he gazes at you in equal parts amusement and intrigue. “A life changer, you say?”
You nod.
“And you think I need the largest tub they have?” An adorable peekaboo from that crooked grin of his. If you didn’t stop staring, you’d be reduced to nothing but a puddle on the floor. Clean up in Aisle 20.
“Yes. You’ll thank me later. If you’re doubting me…” Your gaze sweeps the aisle on either side of you. It’s just the two of you here, alone. Your fingers make quick work of popping the lid from its place and peeling back a section of the Aromaseal within. “...then just smell it. I promise, all your doubts will be erased.”
Jack’s eyes dance with amusement as his gaze flickers between you and the coffee. You hold your ground, a challenge portrayed in the slant of your smirk. As if to say, ‘Yes, this is a hill I will die on.’ After several moments of bated breath, Jack lowers his head to the lip of the container. Instead of drawing in a long inhale like most human beings, he sucks in several short, rapid sniffs in succession. In that moment, you’re signed, sealed, and delivered–this man’s spirit animal is undeniably a dog, without question. Shaking your head incredulously, you close your eyes and dip your chin to savor the aroma yourself.
The first word that enters your mind as you draw in a deep inhale is ‘bold.’ The scent of the dark roast is rich and robust as it weaves through your senses, awakening them instantaneously. The aroma is intense, luxurious, alluring. Your mouth waters unbidden as you hold the scent in, savoring it, before exhaling slowly through your nose. You can practically taste the notes of dark chocolate and smoke on your tongue.
Satisfied, you slowly open your eyes. When you do, you find yourself gazing into two pools of olive green. Jack stares at you over the container of Black Silk between you, his eyes thoughtful, watchful, attentive. There is a gentleness behind his soft gaze, something intangible in the supple curve of his lips and his vaguely knotted brow that is fond, affectionate.
“Cautivante.” The endearment is spoken on a breath, so faint you’re unsure you truly heard it. Your eyes fall to Jack’s lips, now parted slightly with bated breath. Your heartbeat flutters rapidly in your chest, fast as hummingbird wings, making you dizzy. Your very flesh seems to sing under his enthralled gaze, your skin warm and flushed, your knees weak. Unable to pry your eyes from the softness of his lips, the dip of his Cupid’s Bow. Your own lips seem to hum under his watch, calling out to him, buzzing so intensely you’re certain he must be able to see it, to feel it. As if drawn together by an invisible thread, you see him inch imperceptibly closer, and you mirror him, the song in your bones growing louder and louder–
Ca-thunk. The sound nearly startles you out of your skin, slicing clean through the tension of the moment. Jumping backward, you turn to look past Jack at a very uncomfortable-looking woman several paces away. It’s very clear that she had been aware of your little….moment and had been trying to grab her tub of coffee unnoticed. Sorry, she mouths with a pained grimace. She dips down to grab the container of French roast that she had dropped on the floor and scurries off without another word.
Fuck, your mind groans as panic sets in. Your gaze reluctantly slides to Jack, expecting to find his face twisted in regret, mortification, or awkwardness. Instead, you find him still watching you intently, captivated, spellbound. His olive eyes drink in your features like a man starved of drink. The feeling steals your breath away.
You watch as his lips part wider, as he draws in a breath to speak. A rush of white hot panic sends your heart leaping into your throat at the sight. What would he say? Nerves thoroughly fried, you weren’t sure you could handle it, good or bad. So you beat him to it, hastily blurting out, “So, did you like it?”
For a long moment, Jack’s expression hangs suspended, still as stone. He scarcely breathes as his eyes rove over your features, searching. You give him an awkward half-smile, mentally loathing yourself and your painful awkwardness in matters of affection. Part of you wants to tuck tail and run as far away from here as possible, hoping to save some scrap of your dignity. A bigger part of you wants to take his handsome, stubbled face in your hands and press those blush pink lips to yours, throwing caution to the wind.
But neither of those things happen. When Jack finally releases the breath he’s been holding, the sound is low, wistful. “Yes, I liked it very much,” he says quietly, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t place.
You release a bated breath of your own. Regret fills the space it once occupied, cold and heavy. “Alright, then…Great. Let’s get you home to your friend.”
. . .
The ride back from town is quiet. Well, quiet on the outside. The inside of your mind is utter turmoil, a cacophonous tirade of:
What the fuck were you thinking–
Damn that woman–
He’s still a stranger, you know. You never should have picked up a stranger–
His lips were so perfect, how the hell can he be so–
“Here will do.”
Jack’s soft voice startles you out of your mental beratement so abruptly that you have to white-knuckle the steering wheel to keep from swerving. Your eyes flicker to the side of the road where you’re currently driving, a grassy hill leading down to the forest beyond. You look at him next, eyes settling on his clasped hands, the fingers that he’s been twiddling for the past twenty minutes. “Here?” you say, your voice quiet. “Are you sure?”
Jack gazes at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips upturned in a small, sheepish smile. “Yes, I’m sure. I live just a couple miles from here. If I begin walking now, I can arrive home before dark.”
Ah, yes, nightfall. Your eyes turn to the dipping sun, just barely visible over the treeline to your left. It paints the sky in gold and burnt orange, the clouds overhead dip dyed in radiant shades of pink and purple. Your heart clenches at the sight, at the thought that time is running out. You turn on your blinker and pull into the gravel off the side of the highway with a lump in your throat.
The two of you sit in still silence for a moment as you shift the car into park. The air in the cab is thick with nerves, with words left unsaid, actions left undone. You nibble at your bottom lip anxiously, wondering what on earth you could say to cut the tension.
Jack beats you to it. “It was lovely to make your acquaintance, señorita.” His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes wide and emphatic. He gives you a small smile. Your eyes drink in the sight greedily, committing it to memory. “Thank you for helping this poor stranger. You have a warm and generous heart. I will leave you to continue your night in peace.”
Peace. Your heart knows no such feeling as his hand closes around the grocery bag between his legs, as his fingers clasp the car door handle. Your heart revolts as he pushes the door open and begins to step out of the car. Sure, this was all your fault. You’d known from the get-go that your mystery man wasn’t sticking around. He’d told you as much himself. But that didn’t change how outright wrong it felt to watch him go. It didn’t change how desperately you wanted him to stay, the lengths you’d go to see him again, just one more time. Moon watching be damned.
“Jack,” you say suddenly, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. Your mystery man’s posture stiffens slightly, followed by a slow, agonizing turn as he shifts to look back within the car, back at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, your eyes rove over his face, searching, imploring. “Will I see you again?” Your voice is small, fearful, hopeful.
Jack’s eyes widen at the raw emotion in your voice, a wealth of words said and unsaid. His green eyes search your face, picking you apart, reading you like a cherished novel. Whatever he finds within your expression, it prompts him to crouch down, reaching the front half of his body into the passenger side of the car. His earnest eyes do not stray from yours as he gently takes your right hand from the steering wheel. His fingertips are warm and lightly calloused as he lifts the sleeve of your sweater ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your skin as he nestles his nose against the soft flesh of the inside of your wrist. Slowly, he draws in a deep, long inhale. He holds the breath in his lungs, savoring. Your heart stammers wildly in your chest as you transcend several levels of the multiverse in the length of his breath.
“Cautivante.” His soft lips brush affectionately over the flesh of your wrist as he speaks the word. Turning your palm over, he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his lips warm and plush. Dazed and flushed, you’re certain that your soul has left your body until he speaks softly, grounding you to the spot. “Do you wish to see me again?” His voice is small, fearful, hopeful.
You don’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
His olive eyes sparkle at your eagerness, mouth widening into a delighted grin, eyes smiling at their corners. Your heart melts at the crook in his teeth as he looks down at your hands, bashful, then back up at you again. His teeth tug at his bottom lip thoughtfully as he grins at you. “Well, if that is what you wish, mi amada, then that is what you shall receive.”
And in the blink of an eye, he’s gone, with only the slightest lingering aroma of Black Silk remaining in his place.
. . .
Driving home from work the following day, you’re almost embarrassed to admit that you’ve spent more time searching the woods on the side of the road than looking at the road itself. But when you spot a familiar dark haired man standing off the side of the highway a half mile ahead, all sense of shame leaves your mind. You flick on your blinker in an instant, pulling over without hesitation.
The first thing you notice about Jack is how bone-deep exhausted he looks. His salt-and-pepper hair is entirely unkempt, his eyes framed by dark, shadowy circles. You’re almost sure he’s wearing the exact same black sweater and jeans from the day before. Still, when he sees you approach, his face brightens like a man who’s just had his best sleep in years. Your heart swells three sizes at the sight.
He throws the door open and dips into your passenger seat like it’s the only thing he’s thought of in the past twenty-four hours. “Hello,” he greets you adorably, face split with a wide, cheeky grin.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter if you’d tried. “Hello,” you greet him in return. Your skin seems to sing in his very presence, heart fluttering with an intoxicating mix of nerves and anticipation. “Out of coffee already?” you joke.
He gives you a knowing smile, eyes twinkling. “Sure, you could say that.”
Your teeth pin down your bottom lip, trying to bite back a grin. “Well, that sounds like a serious problem,” you try to keep a straight face, to keep the bit rolling, but glee sneaks into your tone anyway. “We’d better fix that.”
Jack’s hand slips over yours on the gear shift, his thumb kneading the backs of your knuckles affectionately. With his olive green eyes on you, you feel like you could do anything, go anywhere. His presence is a drug, so much more addictive than caffeine could ever be. “Indeed, mi amada.” His grin widens ever so slightly, giving you the perfect glimpse of that endearing crook in his teeth. Your lips hum in response, eager to kiss that sacred spot, to adore every inch of him. To keep that grin plastered on his face forevermore. “Lead the way.”
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hi babyy could you write julien x reader based on once more to see you by mitski?
jj chats: okay so i didn't know this song until now and now i am completely in love with it. anon: are you okay?? this song is so good but so heartbreaking!! also this is major angst and in my opinion very sad.
warnings: RPF, use of y/n, secret relationship, reader feels the relationship cannot continue for some reason (its not specified so you can think of whatever you want, not out yet, don't want the public to know), pet names used (baby, sweetheart), reader and julien cry, sad ending.
feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!
“In the rearview mirror, I saw the setting sun on your neck, And felt the taste of you bubble up inside me”
Months of hidden truths, of abhorrence towards those who permitted you two from being together. Months of hiding behind tinted windows and keeping traces of your love away from anyone. Julien and you were getting so damn tired. You started to fight about it, about the hiding. You were two grown people, why couldn’t you just be happy together? Sitting in the driver's seat, Julien was facing a lake. One of your many secluded spots, this one in particular held precious moments. Julien glanced at the rearview mirror, watching as you paced back and forth. The sky cast a golden hue onto your face, making your eyes look as if they were glowing.
As Julien watched your movements she felt warmer and lighter. She knew she couldn’t live without you. She shook her head, she couldn’t stand seeing you so upset. She opened the car door and stepped out, advancing towards you.
“But with everybody watching us, our every move”
“Julien, please. Get back in the car,” you pleaded. Hands reaching towards your head, running quick fingers through your hair, and then holding onto your neck in an attempt to soothe yourself.
“No,” Julien retorted. “I won’t get back in the car (Y/N).”
“But-”
“But nothing! I am not going to let you leave me!” Julien boomed. The early evening air was chilly, which added to both of your stress.
“We do have reputations, we keep it secret, won't let them have it”
Your eyes started to tear up as you stared at your lover, “Julien we can’t,” you stammered. “What would people say?”
Julien took another step towards you, her eyes full of worry. She thought of anything that could ease you. “I know that it is hard, keeping us a secret. But if the only other alternative is losing you then it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be with you any way you want.”
Her words caused your heart to ache, “I want to be with you. I just don’t want them to know yet, I'm not ready.” Your teary eyes overflooded and your cheeks were now red, you choked out “I want to keep what happens between us. That won’t ever work. They’ll find out somehow, they always do.”
“So come inside and be with me, alone with me, alone, with me alone”
Julien hesitated, worried if she took a step close that you might run and never come back. “Not with us. I promise baby, I will protect you.”
You shook your head, turning away from her. Your arms snaking up your torso, holding yourself together like tape.
“Just come back to me, I’ll make everything okay.” Julien gulped.
“If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses, then I wouldn't have to scream your name, atop of every roof in the city of my heart”
Julien, with a newfound confidence, walked right up to you and held you close to her body. “My heart yearns for you, baby I need you. I would do anything for you.”
“Julien we can’t-”
“Let me promise you this sweetheart, that we’ll be okay, alright?” Julien lets go to spin you around, making you face her straight on, her hand gently wrapped around your wrists, holding you still. “I love you so much. My heart beats a language only you can understand, it's locked by a key only you possess. I love you so much it hurts baby.” Julien pauses, searching your eyes for something that she doesn’t find. “You own my heart (Y/N), let me prove that to you. Please, baby.” Julien, how always to stoic one between the two of you, was now a mess of tears. Her own eyes reddened and tears fell from her chocolate brown irises.
You gain enough momentum to leave Julien’s grasp. As much as you want to stay, some malevolent force pulls you from her arms. “I’m so sorry. I can’t. I can’t do this anymore Julien. I can’t.”
“Please baby, please don’t,” Julien whimpers, trying to reach for you.
You pull away from her fast, your legs moving you to your car at record speed. As you get further away you start to hear the dreadful noise of Julien’s sobs.
“If I could see you, once more to see you”
Julien felt as if a bomb had gone off in her chest, decimating her heart, and shredding her lungs. The air doesn’t feel right around her, the sky too cheery.
You weren’t doing much better, once in your car you broke down. You punched the steering wheel, tears streaming down your face in a constant flow.
The end of a prologue that should have been the epilogue. The beginning of something that should have lasted to the end. Now it was just a precursor to the future sequences of events that both of you dreaded more than your worst fears.
Neither of you wanted to lose each other, yet that is what you both got.
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dreaming big (league) || chapter nine
word count: 1216
summary: gender reveal babeyyyy (as if we didn't know already)
warnings: family drama towards the end
author’s note: translation will be at the end!
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June
Carrie sat in the back of her parents’ car, thumb brushing the little bump through her t-shirt. Normally she would’ve been scrolling through her phone during a car ride but ever since she became pregnant she couldn’t handle it. Looking down and reading or scrolling through her phone almost always made her feel sick now. She wondered if she would feel this way forever or until she gave birth. For this ride she opted for looking out the window. Severino caught his daughter in the rearview mirror when he went to check it.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked. Carrie turned her head to look towards the front of the car. She found her dads holding hands over the centre console. She laid a hand on her small belly.
“I’m nervous.” Carrie admitted.
“Why?” Andrew asked.
“I don’t know, just am. But I guess I’m excited too.” She couldn’t help but smile.
“Sev, you ever tell Carrie what happened when you found out she was a girl?”
“No.”
Carrie’s head snapped towards her papa. “Why, what happened? Dad, what happened?” She held onto their seats. Severino kept quiet. “Papa!”
“I passed out.”
“What?!”
Andrew let out a bark of laughter right next to him.
“I was standing next to your mom while the doctor had the probe on her. She announced that you were a girl and I remember feeling really happy. Then next thing I know I was on the ground and looking up at the doctor and a nurse.”
Her dad was losing it in his seat. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell her this until now.”
Andrew turned around and saw Carrie’s horrified expression, eliciting another round of laughter from him.
“Oh my god, you’re so embarrassing! Please don’t pass out at my appointment.”
Her dad couldn’t stop laughing.
-
“Okay, let’s see what we have here…” Dr. Miller slid the probe around Carrie’s stomach.
Carrie’s neck was craned towards the back so she could see the ultrasound screen. She could make out the head and the body but that was about it. Dr. Miller explained simply what she was seeing on the screen. Carrie and her dads nodded along as she spoke.
“Baby looks healthy so far.” She placed the probe in a different position. “Here, you can see them moving around a teeny bit.”
Carrie focused hard on the screen and she could see the little movements her baby was making. She teared up. “That’s my baby.”
“Yes it is.” Dr. Miller moved the probe around a bit more. “Did you want to find out the baby’s gender today?”
Carried nodded her head.
“Alright… So it looks like you are having… a girl. Congratulations.”
“Sev, don’t pass out.” Andrew joked.
Carrie turned to her parents, eyes shining with tears.
“Oh, baby.” They hugged each side of her.
Dr. Miller explained a few more things to her before wiping the gel off her stomach. She pushed the ultrasound machine off to the side.
“So I have nothing to be concerned about so far. Your baby girl’s looking healthy. Just keep taking your vitamins and relax because it’s not going to get easier from here.”
“I understand. Thank you, Dr. Miller.”
The doctor left the family to gather their bearings and they left soon after.
-
Carrie slid open the door to the backyard and stepped out into the early summer night. It was only 9 PM and the sky was still painted with a gradient of soft blues and oranges. The sun had just begun to set. It wasn’t particularly warm either, a nice breeze coming over the area, lightly shaking all the plants in the garden. Carrie sat down on the much needed new outdoor couch her parents bought for the space. She rested the small tub of ice cream on the cushion next to her and took out the spoon she had shoved into her hoodie pocket. She dug into her dessert.
She had spent the whole day with her parents. Following the appointment, they had gone out for lunch. They stuffed themselves full of Middle Eastern food- skewers of shish taouk and kafta with rice. Carrie normally wouldn’t have finished the whole platter by herself but her and the baby were starving; she finished her meal before her dads. She had even ordered knafeh and baklava for dessert. They then walked around the mall to work off what they ate and finally let themselves start looking at baby clothes. Her dad found a cute little orange romper with a blue flower print and didn’t think twice before finding a size. Since she was going to be born in November, he chose the six to twelve month size for her. Carrie had only left them for 10 minutes to go looking in the women’s section and when she found them her papa had a pile of clothing in his arms. And they always complained that she was bad when shopping for clothes.
Carrie smiled to herself upon remembering her afternoon. She tossed the empty ice cream container into the bin and laid down on the couch. She looked up at the sky.
“So I found out you’re a girl. That’s exciting.” Carrie spoke into the air. “I had a feeling you were a girl. Like, deep down, I knew. Is that weird?”
Dr. Miller had encouraged Carrie to speak to the baby because it’ll get the baby to learn the sound of her voice which would help them feel safe. She thought it was a little weird at first because it felt like she was talking to nobody but herself but as her pregnancy progressed, she found herself doing it during times of quiet or just as something to do. Carrie also thought it was quite comforting. She laid a hand on her stomach.
“I’ll tell your titas and titos about you soon. For now I want you to be our little secret. I hope that’s okay.”
The longer Carrie laid there, watching the sky turn colours and the clouds move past, she found herself thinking about Beck. Would he have been happy with a girl? Or would he have wanted a boy? If he picked up the phone call instead of Catherine all those months ago, would he have been happy about the pregnancy or would he have been angry and called her stupid like her mom’s sisters did?
(“Anong iniisip mo?”
“She wasn’t thinking.”
“Ang tanga mo, talaga.”
“This wouldn’t have happened if your mom was still here.”
“What is your papa even doing? Anong klaseng ama ang hinayaan na mangyari ito?”
“First, he allows you to skip university and now buntis ka?”
“Do you even know what you’re doing?”)
Carrie snapped back into her head. She stroked her tummy. That argument had been a couple weeks ago now. It broke her papa’s heart hearing them say all those things about her. And he knew their words hurt her but she tried her hardest not to show him. She had to be strong. She had to be mature about it.
“You don’t have to worry about them, baby. We don’t need them. They made it perfectly clear how they felt.” Carrie said. “All you need to worry about is growing and staying comfy in there. I’ll deal with the rest.”
-
translation for what her fam was saying:
what were you thinking?
you're so stupid
what is your papa even doing? what kind of father lets this happen?
first, he allows you to skip university and now you're pregnant?
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