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albertasunrise · 2 months ago

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Work Wife - One

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So here’s the first chapter as promised! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what y’all think ♥️… I wrote half of this on my iPad so sorry for mistakes 😅)

Series Masterlist

Working as a secretary at Miller & Son's Construction had its highs and lows. You loved the job. The pay was great, and all the guys treated you impeccably, but there was just one slight problem that, if you were honest with yourself, wasn't really a problem but more of a personal issue.

You were in love with Joel Miller.

At 21, Joel was already shaping up to be a fine businessman, taking on a lot of the work from his father so that Cole Miller and his wife Lucia could take more time for themselves. The youngest Miller brother Tommy was shaping up to be a troublemaker. At 17, he was often out drinking with his friends and getting himself arrested and it had fallen to Joel to bail his little brother out every time.

You were a year younger than Joel but as he always said, years ahead of him on the maturity scale. You had always been an old soul but that hadn't stopped you from developing the biggest schoolgirl crush on Joel the day you had started, two years ago. What had started off as a temporary job before you went off to college became permanent when your mum had gotten sick and your dreams of going to college were dashed.

Her illness took her a year after she had been diagnosed and with no father to speak of, you were left alone in the house you'd grown up in. Alone, with nothing but the photos on your walls for company. That time had been what had brought you and Joel closer together but had also forged your crush into what it was now. Unrequited love.

Or so you thought.

"Sup Pip." Said Joel as he placed a paper coffee cup down beside your keyboard "How's my favourite secretary this mornin'?"

"I'm you're only Secretary Miller." You chuckled as you picked up your cup to take a sip and hummed at the perfect coffee flavour that exploded across your taste buds "Better now you've brought me coffee."

"Always happy to assist Pip." He said with a wink and you prayed your flushing cheeks didn't give away how much his wink affected you.

Pip had been a nickname Joel had affectionately given you around three months after you had started. You had been eating a plum at your desk, not a care in the work and engrossed in the customer email that you were reading that you hadn't noticed that the next bite you had taken had contained the pip. Joel had walked in just in time to witness you choking and, using his first aid training he'd acquired just the week before, had managed to save you from a fruity death.

From that day he had called you pip.

Because you'd almost choked on one.

"Anything I need to know about before I head to the site?" Joel asked, pulling you from the memory of your near-death experience and you shook your head slightly before giving him what you hoped was a bright smile.

"Yes." You replied as you pulled out the list you had compiled for him "A Mr and Mrs Cork have emailed, wanting a quote for an extension and kitchen refit." You stated as you handed him the email with a post it note with their number on top "You have a call with a new cement supplied at 2 and Gloria Mullins called this morning asking that you call her when you get a chance, apparently her boiler is on the fritz again."

"I need to tell that woman one of these days that I'm not a plumber." He chuckled to himself as he took the rest of the notes from you.

"You just need to stop being so nice." You chuckled "You've set their expectations now."

"I think you're probably right." Joel chuckled as he grabbed his own coffee cup and took a large swig "Anything else?"

"There's just one more thing." You said shyly as you smiled awkwardly "I need to duck out a little earlier today."

"Hot date?" Joel asked and you knew he could see you blushing now.

"Actually yeah." You answered as you looked down at your hands, missing the way Joel's expression dropped "Simon asked me to dinner."

"Simon Richards?" He asked and you nodded "Oh, wow. I uh... I didn't realise you were into him." Joel shrugged before taking another sip of coffee to try and settle his nerves.

"Well, he's cute and sweet and it's not like I have guys lining up to ask me out." You replied, your smile almost sad "So I thought I should at least go. See if there's any chemistry there."

"Sure... Of course."

Joel knew his response was cold but he couldn't help it. Learning that you were going on a date just made him want to find the nearest pillow and scream. These feelings he had for you drove him crazy and it didn’t help that all his employees knew how he felt about you too. He’d allowed them to plant false hope when they told him that it was obvious you felt the same way. It was becoming painfully clear now that that wasn’t the case.

He needed to get over you.

You couldn’t help but notice the slight icy tone that had coated Joel’s response to your request and you couldn’t help be feel a little confused by it. You never asked for things. Often worked late to make sure everyone and everything was up to date. You would argue that you were one of his hardest workers so sue you for wanting to let your hair down a little.

It’s not like he felt for you the way you did for him.

“Sure.” He said after a short and awkward pause “Lord knows you deserve an early finish.” He chuffed before gathering his bag, the papers you’d given him and his coffee “And, seeing as I won’t be back today and Friday, I suppose I’ll see you Monday!”

“That you will!”

“Enjoy your date, Pip.” he finished before giving you a friendly wave and then leaving.

“I’ll try to.” you said sadly as you watched him walk away.

...

"You are my hero!" Hailed Gloria as she clapped in delight at Joel's handy work.

"Was an easy fix." Joel shrugged as he waved the older woman off.

"You always talk yourself down." She chuckled, her Jamaican accent coming out thicker with her statement.

"I'm just speaking the truth ma'am."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Gloria?" The older woman chuckled and Joel winked as he replied.

"At least once more."

"Auntie G... you home?" Came a voice that Joel didn't recognise and he looked up just as the owner walked into the room he had occupied with Gloria.

"Ah, darlin' this is that fine man Joel I was tellin' you about." Said Gloria as she smiled at her niece.

Joel was instantly aware of the fact he was wearing paint-stained jeans and a t-shirt so worn that he was sure this mysterious girl could see his nipples through it.

"Joel, darlin' this is my niece, Eliza." Gloria stated and Joel quickly rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans before taking the hand that was being held out to him.

"Nice to meet ya' darlin'." He said sweetly as he gave her a shy smile "Was just helpin' Gloria here with her boiler. Darn thing needs replacin' really but-"

"I won't replace something just because it's a little saucy with me sometimes.'

"You won't replace it because poor Joel here keeps fixing it for free." Eliza teased and Joel scratched the back of his neck nervously as he replied.

"Well not completely free." He chuckled "She sends me away with weeks worth of food."

"You're too skinny." Gloria chuffed "No girls gonna want to marry a man with no meat on his bones."

Joel chuckled at the older woman's statement before looking back at Eliza who was grinning at him as she practically fluttered her thick black lashes at him.

"Well, I need to get to that meeting I was talking about." Stated Joel as he coughed nervously.

"Don't forget to pop by later for your food!" Gloria ordered as she watched him collect his tools "I made you my famous jerk chicken with rice... peas on the side." She finished with a wink.

"Why on the side?" Eliza asked and Gloria simply rolled her eyes as she said.

"Boy don't like them mixed in."

Eliza mouthed an 'ooooooh' before watching as Joel started to leave.

"I'll see you later to grab that food."

"Or I could bring it by?" Eliz suggested, "You give me your address and I can swing by and drop it off when you're home."

"Oh that's-"

"Ah, splendid idea." Gloria interrupted, leaving Joel looking like a fish out of water "Don't worry dear, I'll give her your address. Get her to drop it by around 9. You're normally home then, right?"

"Right but-"

"9 it is now you best get going or y'all be late." Said Gloria as she practically herded Joel out the door. Leaving him speechless when he made it back to his truck.

What an earth just happened?

...

The restaurant that Simon had brought you to was nice. Not too fancy but not exactly a dive either. Conversations had been a little awkward at first. You'd not really been on many dates but after being honest with Simon about your lack of dating experiences, he put you at ease and now after one glass of wine and a very large meal, the two of you were chuckling away as subjects came easier to you both.

"So how long have you worked for Mr Miller?" You asked as you sipped at your second glass of wine. Simon had already been at the company when you had started and was a few years older than you and Joel.

"More or less straight outa of high school." He replied as he took a swig of his soft drink "Have always been good with my hands so when Cole put up an advert for an apprentice I marched myself over to his office and waited till he got back to speak to him..."

"Wow." You chuckled around the rim of your glass.

"Guy liked my tenacity. Offered me the job on the spot."

"Well, you know my story so..." You trailed off, smiling sweetly at him as he grinned at you.

"So glad you agreed to come out with me." Simon confessed, his cheeks tinging pink "Been wantin' to ask you out a while but didn't outa respect for Joel, but can only wait so lo-"

"What do you mean, out of respect for Joel?" You asked and Simon's expression took on one of a deer caught in headlights.

"Well... with him being into you and all." Simon clarified and your brows drew together as you shook your head.

"Joel isn't into me." You pushed and Simon grew more uncomfortable with each passing moment.

"He's been crushin' on you more or less from day dot." Your date continued when he saw you needed further clarity "We've always teased him for it but he never made a move so I thought, you know, with him not trying to date you it'd be okay for me to."

You weren't sure what to do with the information you'd just received. For years now you had pushed your feelings down for Joel because you believed he didn't return them. So to learn that he might really put a spammer in the works for you.

The subject moved on after that but the atmosphere wasn't as relaxed. After Simon dropped you home, you allowed what he'd told you to run on repeat in your brain. Keeping you from getting to sleep until late that night. Yet, you came to a decision before you finally drifted off. You were going to go to Joel's in the morning and ask him.

You had to be sure.

...

Joel wasn't surprised when there was a knock at his door at 9 pm sharp. He opened the door to see a beaming Eliza on the other side, her arms full of food containers.

"Shit, come in." Joel said before grabbing a few containers to ease the load. "Let me take some of those."

"Auntie G likes to feed you huh?" She chuckled as she followed Joel into his kitchen.

"I had to buy a second freezer." Joel stated and Eliza barked out a laugh, taking Joel by surprise.

"She's always been a feeder." She chuckled before placing the food down beside where Joel had put the other containers "Think it's a Caribbean thing."

Joel chuckled before turning to face his guest.

"Thank you for dropping this by. You really didn't have to go through all the trouble."

"It's not trouble is I offer." Eliz chuckled and Joel chuckled at her reply.

"Either way... that you for bringing the insane amount of food your aunt,

made me over."

"You are quite welcome." Eliza replied as she placed herself within kissing distance of him "I wanted to see you again anyway."

Joel blushed at her statement. Taken aback by how forward she was then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, she was kissing him. Starting softly and gradually growing hotter as tongues tangled.

"I uh... I feel like I should tell you that I'm kinda getting over someone so I'm not looking for anything serious right now," Joel stated and Eliza chuckled.

"Who said I wanted anything serious either?" She whispered against his lips "I think I can be of great help... assisting you in getting over whoever this person is."

Joel looked into Eliza's eyes a moment, trying to discern her endgame. Then, when he was sure that she was being honest with him he kissed her again. The food is forgotten as clothes are discarded in a breadcrumb trail to his bedroom.

...

You let out a steadying breath before knocking on Joel's door. Your slightly shaky left hand clutching the to-go coffee tray that contained your and Joel's favourite coffees. You chuckled when you heard Joel inside, calling out to wait a moment before suddenly opening the door, looking rather flustered.

"Pip." He said as his expression turned from surprised to confused "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you about something." You replied with a smile "I brought you a coffee. Mind if I come in?"

"Now's not a great time... what was it you wanted to talk about?" He replied nervously, smiling awkwardly as you handed him the coffee.

"It's just about something Simon told me on our date last night." You chuckled "You see he said that you have-"

"Who's this?" Asked a woman that you didn't recognise, dressed in a shirt you assumed was Joel's and nothing else. Her brown skin glowing in the early morning light.

"Oh, I didn't realise you had company." You said awkwardly as you started to take a few steps backwards "I'll um... I'll see you Monday." You choked as you fought to keep your tears at bay, but in doing so you missed the step down and went tumbling onto your backside. Your coffee going all over your arm.

"Shit... Pip, are you okay?" Joel shrieked as he leapt towards you, stopping dead when you held your hand up to stop him...

"Fine... I'm fine."

"That coffee'll be skalding." He said as he took another ginger step towards you "We need to get your arm under some cold water or else it'll blister."

"Please just let me go." You choked, your resolve crumbling under the weight of your sadness and embarrassment "I... I just need to go." You affirmed and Joel nodded, giving you a small smile before stepping back into the threshold of his home "Bye Joel."

The older Miller brother watched with concern etched into his features as you left. Glancing at Eliza who was watching you and looking equally worried.

"You think she's okay?" She asked and all Joel could do was shake his head as he replied.

"I don't know."

...

You spent the rest of the weekend dreading Monday morning. You felt like such a fool going over to Joels to, you had hoped, profess your love but instead, you had fallen ass over tit in front of him and his date and burned yourself in the process. Said injury was now wrapped in gauze and throbbing with each knock and graze of your arm on your desk. You had spent the morning wishing you lived somewhere colder so you could hide your accident.

But alas, it's 100 degrees outside and you were forced to wear a short-sleeved blouse. The air-con once again broke at the most inconvenient moment.

"Morning Pip." Said Joel as he stepped into view, placing your coffee down as he did every morning.

"Morning." You replied, not takimg your eyes off your computer screen.

"How's the arm?" He asked upon seeing the brilliant white bandage wrapped around it.

"Killing me." You answered shortly, still not looking at the man who was desperately trying to pry any form of conversation out of you.

After a long, heavy pause, Joel spoke again. His question finally tearing your eyes away from your monitor.

"Did I do or say something to upset you?" He asked, his signature kicked puppy look making your stomach twist.

"No." You answered simply and he nodded.

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" He asked and your brows drew together "On Saturday... you said you needed to talk to me." He clarified "Said Simon had told you something on your date."

"Doesn't matter now." You bluntly replied before returning to the email you'd been writing before.

"Seemed important then."

"Well, it isn't now." You growled, your tone stopping the conversation dead.

"Okay." He couldn't hide how your aggressive tone wounded him. He didn't understand why you were suddenly so cold towards him. What could he have possibly done?

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Simon as he blasted into the office.

"Morning Boss!" He said chirpily before turning his attention to you "Morning beautiful."

"Morning" you replied with a smile that he returned tenfold.

"Fancy going out with me again on Friday?" He asked and you nodded without hesitation "Great!... see you later beautiful."

You grinned at Simon as he left. Not seeing Joel's crestfallen expression.

Perhaps he did need Eliza.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #last of us fanfiction

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luxurychristmaspudding · 6 months ago

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Weightless | On Call

summary: your curtains are closed, truck silent on the drive. today of all days, you shouldn't be alone.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. loooots of angst. active grieving for a dead parent. a very soft frankie. vibes are better in the next chapter lmao.

wc: 2.1k

an: my grandad was a man who loved flowers. today marks seven years since we lost him. he was gentle and kind and so talented.

have some forget me nots, which are in my garden and now also in your hands. for @morallyinept's flora and fauna challenge. for anyone you may also miss <3

When the time came Just like you are He was weightless In my arms

- weightless, elbow

series masterlist | main masterlist

Your house is quiet.

Quiet like Frankie has never heard.

There’s always some kind of noise. A record turning, the hum of your voice. The TV on, windows open to birdsong. But today, there is nothing.

His legs are heavy. Heart heavy, fingers shaking, wrapped around the bag of groceries he’s brought. He’s taken two steps in through your front door, and now he doesn’t know what to do.

He watches the dust motes swim in the sun of your hallway. Shifts on his feet to look through into the living room. You must be upstairs, but to call your name in the silence of the morning feels like too much. Invasive. Cruel.

Instead, he swallows and takes the remaining strides into your kitchen. Breathes in the fresh smell of your plants, the familiarity of your spice rack in the corner, the spread of miscellaneous stuff that he’s rarely seen tidied away. He gently places the bag of groceries on the counter before opening your cupboards for a vase.

Once he finds one, he fills it with water and trims the stems. Forget-me-nots and white carnations. Something simple. Remembrance and love. Bright and pretty. No lilies. They only remind you of the funeral.

He’s biding his time. Trying to tamp down the nerves swirling in his gut, the somersault of his heart in his chest. He knows from the gaps left in his own life that today will be hard. And he wants to make it easier for you. He just hasn't worked out how.

He knows what works for him. The long hikes, the pull of a bottle. In murkier times, many years ago now, the sharp taste of powdered gums. Knows what works for the boys. The days with drawn curtains, video games played in the gloom. Tequila and memories shared across barbeques. Even his parents - honorary pastel de choclo, flicking through photo albums. But for you, he’s not sure.

Once he’s happy with the way the flowers are arranged, he takes off his shoes. He leaves his cap on the counter, and pads up the stairs.

It’s still quiet. You’re not in the bathroom. No reason for you to be in any other of the rooms. He holds his breath and raises his knuckles against the wood of your bedroom door.

He knocks, softly - once. Waits for an answer that doesn’t come, but pushes it open anyway.

‘Bug?’ He says gently into the morning sunlight.

You’re swaddled in bed, still in your pyjamas, eyes red and swollen. You sit up slightly with a watery smile as he edges in, managing a crackled hey, Fish.

A sharp lump rises in Frankie’s throat. Something about seeing you upset has always hurt; the same kind of ache he gets in his chest when Lucia or his mum cries. His eyes flick from yours to your bedside table, to the picture of your father settled on top of it. Frozen in time, his smile is wide - just like yours. Greying hair, a little more chin fat than he would have had as a younger man. A younger you tucked into his side, his arm slung over your shoulders. Your arms around his middle, squeezing, laughing. Fuck.

Frankie’s heart shoots out the bottom of his legs and skids across the floor. He looks you over, and your chin wobbles. Too much. Too vulnerable. The smile drops, your face cracks. Your mouth clamps shut with a snap of teeth, and a fresh wave of tears begins to pour down your cheeks.

Frankie feels his own expression crumble, and he’s at your side before he can even think for his feet to take him there. Perched on your mattress, arms around your shoulders to pull you close. Shushing like the gentle in and out of waves, lips pressed to your hot forehead.

You’re tense, so tense. Breath coming in choked hiccups, shoulders up to your ears. Hands gripping the sheets. There’s another pull in Frankie’s chest.

‘Stop trying not to cry,’ he murmurs, ‘I can feel it.’

You release a ragged breath, a heartbroken cry as you cling to his sleeves. Like you're being ripped apart. Like you're being drowned.

‘I’m sorry,’ you gasp, ‘I’m sorry.’

Frankie shifts you further across the bed so he can fit next to you, shaking his head.

‘Don’t be sorry. Why should you be sorry?’

‘You don’t have to be here,’ you choke, ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to stay.’

Frankie closes his eyes. Leaving you here is the furthest thing from his mind, a notion that wouldn’t even cross it.

‘I want to.’ He says.

You nod, curled tight to him. He can feel dampness seeping through his hoodie, and he sits back against the headboard, cradling you to his chest. His heart is beating so fast. You can hear it, the conch of your ear pressed to the cage of his ribs. You try to focus on it, try to think of nothing else. Try not to think of this day four years ago. The weightless feel of your father in your arms in the last minutes of his life. How you held him when he could hold you no longer.

‘What do you need, baby?’ Frankie asks.

The streams of tears, the bow of your brow, serve to split his heart in two.

‘I don’t know.’ You whisper.

So Frankie holds you closer, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Unwittingly, he’s answered the question for you. For the last four years, you have needed to be held like this. Needed to be held together by someone who is not yourself, someone who can shoulder the weight of the grief you have carried alone for years, just for a moment.

You lose yourself to it. To the warmth, the smell, the comfort. You let the flood come, you let Frankie rock you. You ask him how Luc is, and he understands the need to hear about life outside this room. So he tells you about her arts and crafts, her newfound dislike of mac and cheese, what she wants for her birthday. The daisy chains she's been making, the sweetpeas they're growing in their garden. And it’s wonderful. It reminds you of the good of the world, that it keeps spinning, that there is love out there even when it feels lost to you.

If there is something out there other than life, you hope your dad is in it. On a deck chair with a beer on the beach, a little basket of fries delivered to him every so often. He’s smiling, laughing. You hope he’s still around, because the idea that he’s not is too big, too great to face. It’s too lonely. Too terrifying to be alone in this world, no anchor, no tether, a family with their backs to you after you’d told them who you loved, too far in the distance to turn back to you with outstretched palms. An ex-fiancée who simply didn’t love you enough.

But he’s here, you feel. Here in this moment, watching from somewhere above. Mixed with the fabric of now like clothes in a washing machine. A spiral of colour and feeling. Pink, purple, blue, green. Love, joy, heartbreak, loss.

Orange. Orange and white is what Frankie can see. The warmth of the sunlight, the pale of your sheets. You’re far away but safe in his arms. He wants you there always. Wants to be wherever you need him.

He thinks of this day in his own life, four years ago. The tiny, warm body of his baby in his arms. Weightless as you are now and yet so heavy, the two of them fighting sleep in a nursery elsewhere in Florida. He can still smell her hair, still hear the way she’d babble, the way she still fit tucked into one arm. He swallows, hard. Holds you tighter still, thumbs rubbing your shoulder, your side. There is so much of his daughter’s life to see. He can’t imagine having it cut short. Can’t imagine knowing it would end soon, counting down the days as his body wasted. The milestones he’d miss, the moments and memories. The stories and people she’d introduce him to. It doesn’t bear thinking about, her out in the wide world without him to guide or protect her. And he knows you’d hate it, but he’s sorry. So sorry that that’s the life you have, that you don’t have him to turn to anymore. And he’s sorry for your dad. For him to have missed who you are now, to miss who you will be.

He presses another kiss to your head, hoping to convey this. This nebulous thought, this strange feeling.

‘He wrote letters for me,’ you whisper into his neck. So quietly, voice strained to breaking as you force the words out. ‘For birthdays. For jobs. For my first home. For my wedding. For a first child.’ You try to smile, but it’s flattened with a broken breath. ‘He thought of everything. And I read them again today - the ones I’m up to - but it’s like - it’s like his voice -’ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your hands as you try to calm down. ‘Sometimes it’s like I can’t hear him properly anymore.’

Frankie strokes the back of your hand, and it drops easily. He holds it in clammy palms.

In the cold days after your dad passed, through numb dissonance you had googled everything to do with grief. The stages, the remedies, the processes. What you forget first.

Voice. There would be a day, before anything else, when you wouldn’t be able to remember how your name sounded spoken by his lips. When you couldn’t remember the texture of I love you spoken in his tongue.

Frankie knows this. He googled it after Colombia, when the weight of every body he’d seen or carried seemed to settle on him. It had comforted him. He didn’t want to remember shouts and screams, couldn’t stomach the memory of Tom’s orders rattling through his brain. But he feels so desperate to take this from you, to retract and hide what you know. So useless in the face of so much hurt, so much loss. Even when he knows the best he can do is sit here in it with you.

You press your free fingertips into your eyes.

‘I’m so scared, Frankie,’ you whisper from behind the dark in your head. ‘I’m so scared I might forget him.’

Frankie’s seen the simplicities of grief before. Knows them intimately. Knows the horror of these realisations, understands as he presses his lips to your hairline and you shake in his arms. He loves you too much to lie.

So instead, he tells you a truth.

‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’

When the light turns from golden to white, the sun a little higher in the sky, you disentangle yourself to blow your nose. You manage a laugh as you do it, muttering a bashful ew as Frankie watches you, still stretched out on your mattress. Any other time, and your heart would be hammering in your chest at the sight. But now, it’s all the comfort you need.

He stands, stiff, stretching his arms to the ceiling before gathering you briefly in his arms again.

‘You okay?’ He asks.

‘Better.’ You say, brushing a curl from his forehead.

His eyes are so warm, so gentle.

‘Breakfast?’

You hum, offer him the best smile you can. A sludge of guilt slops in your stomach, but you try to swallow it.

‘Thank you. I’ll be down in a bit.’

When he’s downstairs, listening to the sound of your shower, he unpacks his grocery bag and begins making a stack of pancakes. Blueberry, banana, strawberry, chocolate chip. Syrup enough for you to taste through the salt at the back of your throat. Methodical, mechanical, more focused on listening for your movements through the floors of your house. The shutting off of the water, the soft thunk of your drawers. Your footsteps heavy on the stairs, down the hall. You appear in the doorway, hair washed, eyes red, cosy in sweats and a t-shirt. He smiles at you, and you smile back. It’s small, but it’s a start.

You move closer, and he takes you under his arm as he turns the stove off. You wrap your arms around his middle.

‘Thank you for the flowers,’ you say, quietly. Frankie follows your eyes to the bouquet arranged in the vase. Forget-me-nots, white carnations. ‘Thank you for not getting lilies.’

He smiles, kisses your forehead. Wonders whether he could leave a mark simply from doing it so often, so you’d always feel safe.

‘No problem.’

He guides you towards the table, pulls out the chair and makes sure you’re settled. Makes sure you have your coffee, your pancakes. The smell of the flowers is sweet, something blooming in your stomach. You trace the outline of them before you, the simplicity, the thought. Frankie asks what you want to do for the rest of the day. You deflect the question back at him, and he smiles.

‘Anything.’

‘Anything?’

You raise an eyebrow at his mhm.

‘That’s dangerous.’ You say with a wry smile.

Something in Frankie’s chest lifts. There she is.

Later, when Luc is tucked into your side and you’re tucked into Frankie’s, you’ll wonder how you can ever repay him. The kindness he shows you, the patience.

You only hope that you will, someday. Promise it, head leant against his shoulder.

Even if it takes the rest of your life.

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #jettsflora&faunachallenge #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: on call

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pitchsidestories · 7 months ago

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Darling, hold my hand II Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze

masterlist I word count: 1504

a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy this little oneshot, as always this is just fiction, have fun reading. <3

As soon as the final whistle blew and the game against Bilbao ended, the celebratory mood in the Estadi Johan Cruyff set in. FC Barcelona won their ninth league title before the season even ended.

While the fans applauded and chanted their names, the players on the pitch celebrated wildly, hugging each other and jumping around under the night sky. The commanding victory only added to the exuberant atmosphere.

It was chaos on the field when the injured players joined the celebrations. From somewhere a drum had appeared on the grass and Ona and Alexia took turns beating it.

Lucy stood a little farther away, watching them attentively with a smile on her lips.

“Lucia.“, Alexia said, rolling her eyes at her teammate after calling her a second time.

Only then the English defender tore her eyes away from Ona: “Uhm.. What?“

Keira elbowed her in the side and grimaced: “Embarrassing, Lucy.“

“Like a lovesick puppy.“, Alexia agreed before Lucy could protest.

Keiras eye widened, excited by the comparison: “Right?“

Lucy shook her head, unimpressed: “Shut it, both of you!“

Ona held out the drumstick towards her: “Want to try too?“

Instead of Lucy, Cata Coll answered: “Oh, look, Ale. Olga is over there.“ She pointed towards the stands. Alexias head immediately whipped around in the direction.

Cata winked at Ona: “See, Oni? Works every time.“

“She’s so in love.“, the Spanish defender smiled back.

Alexia turned towards Lucy, letting go of the drum: “Here, Lucy. I’m sure you’ll take good care of the drum with Ona.“

Lucys eyes narrowed in suspicion: “Thanks?“

“You’re welcome.“

“Ona, you were right. Ale is so in love.“, Lucy grinned as they watched their captain walk towards her girlfriend and embrace her.

“I told you she’s.“, the smaller defender laughed.

“How does it feel? To be back at Barcelona and winning the league in your first season?“, Lucy asked, subtly placing a hand on the Spanish players waist.

Onas eyes lit up as she looked at the English defender, trying to summarize her emotions with one word: “Amazing.“

“You played amazing. And your goal tonight…“

“Yes?“, you asked, prompting her to continue.

In her typical nonchalant way, she just shrugged: “It was pretty nice too.“

Ona laughed at the half-compliment: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome.“

For a second, the two football players were unusually silent, soaking in the lighthearted atmosphere.

Sandra Paños came over to take the drum from them.

Ona leaned over, whispering into Lucys ear: “When do you think we can go home?“

“This will take a while.”, the older woman replied truthfully, her voice filled with longing for the time when it only was the two of them.

“Ugh, I feared you’d say that.”, mirroring that want of being alone, the Spanish defender groaned.

Lucy gave her girlfriend an apologetic look: “Sorry. The ceremony hasn’t even started yet.”

“Do you think you can keep your hands to yourself during that?”, Ona teased the English player with an amused grin on her lips.

“You’re the one who came close for a hug.”, the older woman protested smirking.

“And you were coming closer when we had the team photos before the match started.”, the Spanish defender reminded her.

“Not true.”, Lucy countered laughing even though she knew fully well that the younger woman was right about her observation.

“Yes, you did.”, Keira said as she joined their conversation giggling.

“Lies.”, her England teammate responded.

Clearing her throat Jana tapped the older woman’s shoulder:” Excuse me, but I got to steal your girlfriend for now, Lucia.”

“Where are you going?”, Lucy asked curiously.

“You’ll see.”, the younger defender promised wearing a secretive smile on her face.

“Rude.”, the English woman mumbled, shaking her head.

“Sorry.”, Ona mouthed into the direction of her girlfriend as Jana was pulling her away to some fellow Spanish players who wanted to take a group photo together which afforded her presence.

“Fine then.”, Lucy told her as she was making her way to the teammates who weren’t taking part in that specific photo shooting.

Meanwhile Ona realized what which task was laying ahead of her. “Another round of photos, Jana?”, she whined in front of her friend.

“Yes, come here.”, Jana nodded enthusiastically before they each took their positions to let the photographer do her work.

Afterwards it took Ona a bit of time to find her girlfriend in the crowd who kept celebrating, she let out a quiet gasp as a familiar voice came from behind her back. “Done with your little photo shooting, pretty girl?”

Hearing the English woman saying that gave her goosebumps, but the Spanish woman tried to play it down by saying:” Lucia, stop.”

“I'm doing nothing, no suspicious looks and no touching.”, Lucy objected, smiling innocently to underline her message.

“Just subtle flirting, huh?”, the younger defender raised an eyebrow at her. Her girlfriends face was an open book, not only to her, but for the public as well.

Lucy swiftly changed the topic of the conversation, motioning towards the rest of the team who slowly started to head towards the dressing room: “Uhm, seems like the party is heading elsewhere now. Let’s go.“

While she started walking, Ona followed a few steps behind. “Coming!“

She quickly caught up with Lucy and took a leap onto her back, her arms around Lucy shoulders and giggled.

“Oh, and jumping on my back is subtle, Ona?“, she commented while trying to steady herself to keep them from falling over.

Sandra passed them and remarked with a smirk: “You two are not very subtle, no matter what you do, Luce.“

Ona finally jumped off of Lucy and instead wrapped her arms around the older defenders waist while walking: “Doesn’t matter now anyway.“

“Wait until we’re home…“, Lucy grinned which caused Sandra to grimace in disgust.

She shot her teammate a reproachful look and nodded in the direction of Vicky Lopez and Salma Paralluelo: “Lucia, not in front of the children!“

Barcelonas young strikers both remained unimpressed.

“As if we didn’t know what they’re doing. They’ve been clingy all night.“, Salma said, lovingly poking fun at the older players.

Vicky agreed quickly: “Honestly, we might be young but not naive.“

Alexia appeared between the two of them, ruffling Vickys curls: “Stop sounding so grown up, that’s not okay.“

“We’re adults, get used to it.“, Salma replied, clearly amused by the situation.

Alexia shook her head: “Never.“

“Let’s go, Vicky.“, Salma rolled her eyes and turning away from their unusually sentimental captain.

The young striker followed her: “I’m coming.“

Relieved that the attention had shifted away from them, Ona started to impatiently tug on Lucys hand and quietly said: “Come on, Luce.“

Laughing, the English football player let Ona drag her along: “Alright.“

“Getting Paella on the way home?“, the younger woman asked, blinking innocently at her girlfriend.

Lucy raised an eyebrow: “Really? Food?“

Ona bit back a smile as she quickly admitted: “Actually, that can wait.“

“Good. Because I definitely can’t wait.“

“Me neither to be honest.“ Onas cheeks blushed bright pink.

The two defenders followed the other players into the dressing room and got changed. In a quiet moment, they left the continuing celebration as inconspicuously as possible.

The whole drive home, Ona could feel the impatience radiating off of Lucy. The Spanish defender smiled to herself. Teasingly, she put her hand on the inside of Lucys thigh while she drove, slightly faster than she should.

With a cheeky smile Ona loosened her braid, so her hair fell in long waves, knowing all too well how much the English player loved this look on her, who tried her hardest not to stare because she’s been the driver tonight.

The younger woman opened the window of the car on her passenger seat side, letting the still warm night in and enjoying the wind in her hair as she leaned outside to feel it.

The adrenaline of the win running through her veins, Ona let out a small victorious scream, only causing Lucy to drive faster as her patience has her limits.

When they stepped through the door of their shared appartement, the Spanish defender turned around to look at her girlfriend expectantly:” You can kiss me now?”

“Now.”, the English woman repeated, her voice leaving no doubt that she was done with waiting.

“Yes. No one is here watching even Narla and Coco are asleep.”, Ona replied, pointing to the little dogs who were each sleeping in their small beds.

“Come here.”, Lucy said, opening her arms before hugging the smaller defender.

“We’re campeonas.”, Ona mumbled against the English woman’s bare skin, making her shiver underneath her as she pressed a few kisses on it.

Clearing her throat Lucy lifted the younger player’s chin, so she could look into her green eyes darkened with desire:” We’re.”

With that said Ona gave her a passionate kiss before the English defender lifted her up to carry her into their bedroom to celebrate the league win in the way they wanted to do for the whole evening.

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jaegeraether · 1 year ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 28)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (26) & Alexia Putellas x Character (3)

Masterlist (other parts here)

There were many pictures of Lucy all over the internet, but in reality, she rarely took photos of herself. Usually, they were for an Instagram update or for family, and now, morning selfies for YFN. Lucy was still smiling when she woke after her spontaneous late night phone sex with her little Australian, and it was a first for Lucy. She’d never dated anyone comfortable enough to do that. And beyond all of that, somehow Lucy had managed to orgasm by just hearing her, watching her… god, the way her excited nipples looked, the arch in her back, the stifled whimpering so Jordan wouldn’t hear. Lucy was tempted to find a late flight to Birmingham just to spend that night. She gave a teasing smile as she took a sleepy selfie from her bed, glasses on, cuddling Narla and giving a look she knew would get her girlfriend’s attention.

Lucy: Selfie to start your day. Good morning, little one x

Lucy was still a little disheartened about the airport, however the phone sex had put a little of her disappointment to bed. YFN just wasn’t ready to say it or accept it yet, and although Lucy didn’t understand it, she would try to.

As usual, Lucy picked up Ona and drove them to training. It just made sense, and it gave her some company in the Spanish city where she didn't fully speak the language.

“Do you want me to drive us this week?” Ona asked in broken English. It was still better than most of the players on the team. “Because of your knee?” She reached over and gave Lucy’s knee a little squeeze.

Lucy shied away from her touch for many reasons. One being that she didn't like being touched. Another being that she didn’t want Ona to get the wrong impression. Lucy had never liked being touched or hugged, unless it was from close friends or at specific moments. Jordan, for example. Jordan was always so affectionate with her thigh squeezes and kisses on the forehead when you did something right. She could handle that in moderation, yet she reserved her closest needs and affection for herself. That is, until she’d met YFN. For some odd reason, Lucy wanted affection from her constantly. It was a need that she was still yet to understand.

“Maybe alternating will be good.” Lucy agreed.

“Alternating?”

“Oh.. me today, you tomorrow, me, you, me…”

“Ahhh.” Ona nodded in understanding and flashed Lucy a smile. “Si, estoy de acuerdo.” Yes, I agree.

They arrived at training and were immediately surrounded by fans with cameras at the entrance. They wanted signatures and selfies, but Lucy never tended to stop on the way in, and always on the way out instead. She’d learnt early in her career to set healthy boundaries with fans. As she drove through the gate she saw someone familiar in the crowd briefly and had to double take, but lost her to the crowd. There were so many regular fans and Lucy would always try to remember the ones who kept coming back, however there were just too many.

“Lucia Roberta, why are you looking anxious?” Alexia asked in Spanish. Lucy knew enough to converse generally, and she was especially used to Alexia not wanting to speak English often.

Lucy worried at her phone, wondering why the day was finishing and she still hadn’t gotten a reply from YFN. She always replied. Was she okay? Her mind went to Kristie and the brick and the blood…

When she didn’t get a response, Alexia sat down next to Lucy. The two weren’t as close as they were with others, but they respected each other. Alexia respected Lucy for her brilliance as a player, and her discipline. Lucy respected Alexia for her skill on the field, and her leadership. Alexia didn’t tend to take bullshit, but she cared deeply. She was always straight forward but looked after her players well. They were similar in a lot of ways, really.

“Lucia?” Alexia asked again in Spanish, looking to her phone. “You’re not usually on your phone.”

“I’m worried about my girlfriend.” She said simply.

Alexia’s eyebrows rose at that. She spoke in broken English now. “Ah, I saw the photos on Instagram. She’s pretty.”

Lucy gave a little chuckle at Alexia’s nicety. “She’s beautiful. Australian.”

“You met her this trip?”

Lucy nodded. “Through Jordan. She’s… really special to me.”

Lucy put her phone down and rested her chin on her knees.

“Why are you worried?”

Lucy sighed and turned her head to look at her hazel eyed Captain who genuinely seemed to care. She didn’t usually open up to anyone, let alone la Reina. But Alexia was showing interest and so Lucy decided to open a little and tell her about Kristie, the messages, the brick.

Alexia looked disgusted. “You can’t…uh…”

“Sue? With lawyers?”

Alexia nodded.

“No.” Lucy said. “I tried that. No witnesses or camera footage. I have restraining orders being drawn up though.”

Funnily enough, Alexia understood that. She’d had a few obsessive fans in her time also, being la Reina.

“She’s not replying… and you’re worried for her?”

Lucy nodded. Alexia put a hand on her back and rubbed it gently. They both were also similar in the fact that they kept physical affection as a rarity for certain people or certain times of need.

“She makes you happy?”

“Yeah.” She admitted huskily. She felt herself getting a little emotional just thinking about her and cleared her throat. Her phone dinged.

YFN: Sorry, busy day.

Lucy knew that was a lie. She always made time for her.

Lucy: I was worried something happened to you. Are you okay?

YFN: I’m fine, Luce. Thanks though.

Lucy found herself a little confused at her messages. She didn’t sound the same.

Lucy: Why do you feel distant suddenly..?

She waited for what felt like an hour, now so invested in her phone that she almost forgot Alexia was right there.

YFN: I think I just need a little bit of space, Luce. I need to get my head together.

Lucy’s heart started pounding. What had happened between last night and now? Was work stressful? Did she realise the distance was going to be an issue? Was the idea of Lucy’s maniac fans finally scaring her away?

Lucy: Is it work? Has it been overwhelming? I can help..

Another pause. Three dots appeared and disappeared.

YFN: No. Work has been great. Exciting. I just need a little space.

Not work. Something worse then. Lucy felt her heart breaking and she was starting to get emotional. She immediately tried to call her. YFN rejected the call.

Alexia must have understood something was happening because she stood, rubbing her back again before Captain Alexia reappeared.

“Remember to go and see the fans when you’re free, Lucia.” She said before she left. It was public training day, and the fans were all lined up in the stands, hugging the barriers begging for autographs and photos. Lucy almost didn’t hear her. Almost.

YFN: Lucy please.

Lucy’s heart broke. Why wasn’t she talking to her? She knew a lot about YFN’s past, but not everything. She understood it was all new to her, and she worried that it was all becoming a little too overwhelming for her.

Lucy: Don’t do this please. We need to go through things together. I know you’re not used to that, but I can help.

Lucy waited another five minutes, chin on her knees and thinking when suddenly she started receiving screenshot after screenshot of messages YFN had been sent. All pictures and videos of Lucy and Ona at the World Cup, during games, during training, outside of football. She gasped. She knew how it looked. Before YFN, Ona had been there for her at the World Cup. She was so grateful to Lucy for getting her from United to Barca, and letting her stay with her for a little while. It wasn’t news to anyone who knew Ona that she was extra affectionate. She loved touches and hugs and kisses, it was just her. And to make matters worse, Lucy had known Ona had liked her for some time. She flirted back sometimes, but that had all been before she’d met YFN. Of course, she had never let it go beyond that as there was eight years and a significant amount of maturity difference, but the attention had been nice after Keira, she was ashamed to admit. Fuck.

YFN: I need space. Please.

YFN: I’ll get my emotions together and then we can talk.

She felt so helpless. Her little Australian having these sent to her all day long. Now everything made sense. If Lucy had been in the same situation, she’d also be unsure and needing time to think.

She fought with herself for a little while trying to decide if she should reply, thinking it may make her look guilty if she didn’t. But she wasn't guilty. And so she didn’t reply just then, not wanting to push YFN away, and respecting her space. She would message her later.

Lucy wiped a tear away as Ona approached. She internally groaned. Perfect.

“Are you okay??” She asked, visibly worried and reaching down to stroke her arm.

Lucy nodded and rolled away from her, standing.

“I’m fine. Just going to the fans.”

Ona followed her to the boundaries where the fans were. She threw her phone on the ground near the fans and worked up the boundary line, taking selfies and signing autographs as per usual, just trying to stay out of reach of Ona. She didn’t want any more photos of them together being taken and misinterpreted before she could talk to YFN. As she was thinking about that, she paused, wondering if one of the fans was the one sending the photos. She gritted her teeth and finishing her signings before she took a wide berth around the Spaniard as she went to pick up her phone from where she threw it, but it was gone. She looked around for a few minutes before she gave up, assuming the security guard had taken it.

Great, just what I need, she thought. Lucy wasn’t worried about the money though, just that she needed to be able to call and text YFN when she was ready. She knew she could do that from her iPad and MacBook at home, and so she caught Ona’s attention and gestured towards the car park.

Ona looked a little unsure as Lucy dropped her off, having picked up on Lucy’s now distant and distracted mood. The car ride was mostly silent beyond some niceties, and the farewell was the same.

“I pick you up tomorrow?” Ona said from outside of the car before she closed the door.

Lucy shook her head. “I have somewhere to be in the morning, so I’ll meet you there.”

Ona looked a little upset but she didn’t push it and nodded, closing the door. Lucy was gone almost immediately after that, getting to her apartment without delay. She found her MacBook first, opening it. No messages from YFN. How long should she wait? Would it be too much for her to message tonight, just hours after she said she needed space? Should she message Jordan? They must have spoken about it.

Lucy thought on it a little longer before she threw her MacBook away and charged her iPad for the next day. She looked down at Narla who was wanting attention which pulled a smile out of her.

“Are you texting on an iPad?” Keira teased.

“Lost my phone.” She replied, fully aware of how ridiculous she looked as she texted Jordan and YFN yet again on her iPad.

“Security?”

“Doesn't have it.”

“Well at least you don’t have it up to your ear for a phone call.” She laughed.

“Done that a few times too. You must have missed it.”

Keira squatted down next to her. They were still close, but Lucy had shut her out of that very close part of her.

“You’ve not been yourself, Luce. She’s still not replying?” Lucy knew she genuinely cared. Keira would always care about her, and she her.

“No. And Jordan isn’t saying much.” She sighed, throwing her iPad to the ground and looking at Keira. “Have I been that bad?”

“Well you are usually happy and smiley ninety-nine percent of the time, so when you’re distracted and grumpy, people can tell.”

Great. Another stress to add. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. It’s okay, everybody has their off days. You tend to have less than most so I think the girls are mainly just worried about you.”

“I’ll be okay.” There’s that closeness boundary.

Keira looked like she didn’t believe her. “I’m always right here if you need me. And if it makes you feel any better, Alexia is holding the spotlight rather than you. She’s been a lot grumpier than you the past week or so.”

Lucy raised her head. She hadn’t noticed. She’d been so focussed on her own thing. “Oh? What happened?”

“I’m not too sure, most of them have been talking in Spanish but I think it’s about a girl?”

“Not just any girl!” Patri said as she was walking past. She knelt down with a grin. “Alexia has a crush. Big one. She’s been dragging us to a club just to see her.”

“So why is she so grumpy?”

“She disappeared for five months and then reappeared last weekend like everything was okay. Apparently she flirted with Alexia. Now she’s pissed at herself.”

Lucy looked over at Alexia who was smashing the shit out of a punching bag. No one really ever used that punching bag except Lucy, especially not Alexia. And she seemed so… annoyed. How had she been so caught up in her own world that she hadn’t noticed? Alexia had even tried to see if she was okay yesterday, when she herself wasn’t.

“Oh… wow.”

“No one has really been keen to try and talk to her. Mapi got the closest.” Keira said. “We thought she must have said something to you yesterday?”

Lucy shook her head. “No, she was just making sure I was okay.” Typical Alexia, so caring of other people.

“Sunday sure is going to be a fun game with you two so mad.” Patri said cheekily.

Lucy ignored that statement. “I’m going to try and talk to her.”

Lucy grabbed the iPad and stood, walking over to her Captain as the two gave her a nervous good luck. When she got there, she dropped her iPad to the floor and took hold of the punching bag to hold it steady. Alexia caught her eye, her eyebrows were furrowed in obvious annoyance but not at Lucy. She was like that before she arrived. Lucy didn’t say anything, she just held the bag steady as Alexia punched the hell out of it. When she was tired they switched. They didn’t need words. They needed some release.

Their knuckles were sore before their cardio gave out, and so they wordlessly changed to gloves and mitts. Alternating. Lucy had taken up boxing regularly so she guided Alexia through the motions. After a while it was dark, the other girls had gone home, and the two footballers eventually gave in and sat down in a pile of sweat and steam.

“Are you okay?” Alexia eventually asked in Spanish.

Lucy shrugged. She wasn’t and replied in Spanish. “Are you?”

“No.”

“Want to tell me why?”

Alexia sighed. “Did Patri not tell you?”

“Yes, but I was being polite.”

Alexia rolled her eyes and switched to English. “She thinks she can just show up after five months…”

“Have you spoken to her before?”

“A little here and there.”

“So she doesn’t realise that you like her like that? And you’re mad at her?”

Alexia groaned and Lucy had never seen her so frustrated.

“Oh… you’re not mad at her. You’re mad at yourself.”

Alexia put her head in her hands. “She frustrates me.”

“So go and tell her how you feel?”

“Not simple like that. She’s… popular.”

Lucy actually laughed. “Do you forget who you are, la Reina?”

“No I mean… she sleeps with many people.” Alexia’s broken English was always funny for Lucy, though she wasn’t about to tease her on it right now.

“Ah. But maybe you’re the one to end that.” Lucy said cheekily. “Go and see her.”

“I have been back few times this week.. she wasn’t there.”

“Ah.. you feel like she’s making you chase her?”

“Un poco.”

“So… you’re just going to keep being annoyed and scaring your team?”

Alexia looked up a little surprised at that honesty. And then a little upset. She sighed. “I will play Sunday and go back to the bar on the next weekend to talk to her.”

“I think that’s a great decision, capitana. You can use the game Sunday to get a little grumpiness out. I know I will.”

“Si… si. How is that going?”

“Oh so you assume someone told me about your situation, but you don’t think I know someone definitely told you about mine?”

Alexia gave a cheeky smile before it fell. “I’m sorry. People can be so mean. I noticed you stayed away from Ona today. I think it upset her a little..”

“She’ll be fine.”

Alexia nodded. She could be hard like Lucy. “Si. Has she messaged you?”

Lucy reached over and grabbed her iPad. Alexia raised an eyebrow at it but didn’t say anything.

Still no reply from YFN. She groaned out loud and Alexia nodded, knowing she hadn’t. Then a notification caught her attention. They were Instagram posts of Leah and YFN at an event. Her jaw dropped at the sight of her. Her body in that dress. Her beautiful sun-kissed hair done up like that. That little dimply smile. She was happy to see the stitches had been removed, zooming in to see the scar she was left with. Oh, little one. She zoomed back out and noticed Leah then, dressed in a suit and looking great, as usual. Though Lucy felt a twinge of jealously when she saw her hand lightly touching YFN’s back as they took their pictures on the carpet together. Her bare back, as it was backless. She looked at the way her body moved and the beauty of her spine, feeling again jealous but this time because the world could see those little back dimples. Lucy felt like she was in the wrong place. Like she should be standing there next to her, holding her close and making sure she was safe and comfortable and warm.

A few more photos came up then of Leah and YFN sipping champagne and laughing together, lightly touching in some photos. The last one was of YFN standing, gripping Leah’s jacket tight around her as Leah had a hand on her back, presumably making sure she was warm. Lucy’s jaw almost broke from how tight it was locked. She thought she’d managed to control it until she read the caption.

‘Leah Williamson and partner.’

Two things happened almost simultaneously then. First, a snapping sound. Then the pain of glass shards in her left hand.

Lucy and Alexia both stared silently at the iPad snapped in half between Lucy’s hands.

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cowgurrrl · 1 year ago

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Please Come Home for Christmas

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: The Christmas season with the Millers [1.4k]

Author’s note: I got a wave of Christmas nostalgia and said fuck it we ball

Warnings: age roll call (Sam: 8, Issac: 6, twins & Lucy : 4, JJ: 1, Sarah: 32, Ellie: 28) mentions of aging animals, pregnancy/babies, Joel not only being a DILF but a GFILF (grandfather I’d like to fuck), reminiscing, NOTE: While Christmas and Christmas themes are prevalent in this fic, readers religious views are not specified and very easily can be added in!!

The house is chaos. Lucia and Tommy are in the kitchen, loudly speaking Spanish to each other over Tejano Christmas music while the kids run around under their feet. Hank warns them about "gettin' in Abuela's way when she's cookin'" and escorts them to the backyard with a quick kiss to his wife's cheek. The tree is sparkling in the corner, cramping the otherwise large living room with the messy handmade ornaments of a well-lived childhood hanging from the branches. You could spot Joel's toothy kindergarten photo from across the room if you tried. Maria opens the back door, wine in one hand and a half-made Christmas garland in the other, to yell at the kids for roughhousing too hard and earning an apologetic wave from Hank.

You sit on the couch with Maria and work on stringing popcorn and cranberries on a long piece of fishing wire. She sighs when she sits back down, and you struggle to remember what you were talking about when Daisy suddenly steals a piece of popcorn from the bowl and runs away. "Daisy Mae!" You scold, but when her big, droopy eyes meet yours, she knows you're not really mad. The years have flown by, and the sweet puppy who showed up at your door one day now has white on her face and struggles to keep up with the kids when they want to play. She can have as much popcorn as she wants as long as Joel doesn't know about it.

"God, do babies always smell bad or just mine?" Ellie asks as she walks into the living room with a squirmy JJ. He turned one a few months ago, and now all he wants to do is run around with the big kids. You open your arms, and Ellie hands over said smelly baby without hesitation.

"They smell bad for a little bit, but then it gets better." You say in an obnoxious baby voice as you smile big at the baby.

"I told you!" Dina announces as she taps Ellie's hip to get by her to throw away a dirty diaper. You can hear her asking Lucia and Tommy if they need help, which they vehemently deny before shoving her out of the kitchen. "They run that kitchen like the goddamn Navy." She says upon reentry, and you laugh.

"Trust me, I've been trying to infiltrate for years now, and they haven't let me."

"Guests don't cook!" Tommy calls from the kitchen, and you roll your eyes. The backdoor slides open again, and you expect one kid or another to be crying from a fall or a bending of the rules, but you find Sarah and Ethan coming back inside. Well, you see Sarah's belly before you really see her. She, like Ellie, is wearing a red sweater, and her curls are half-up in a green bow. She's glowing.

"I'm ready to be done with this pregnancy. This is bullshit," She breathes as Ethan helps support her into Hank's big Lazy Boy. Her hands rest on her bump, and she looks at you. "I don't know how you did this so many times."

"I've only been pregnant twice, remember?"

"Oh, right. Twins," her eyes widen as she looks at Ethan. "We are not having twins. We're done."

"Yes, ma'am." He says diligently before kissing her forehead and asking Lucia for entry into the kitchen in Spanish. She greets him with loud kisses on both cheeks and gives him a glass of water for his heavily pregnant wife. You always knew you liked Ethan, but seeing him be such an attentive dad and husband only solidifies it for you.

"I remember how miserable I got at the end with JJ, too. Hopefully, you'll go into labor sooner rather than later." Dina sympathizes, and Sarah pokes at her belly.

"D'you hear that? People other than me want you out, you little terrorist."

"Honey, please don't call our daughter a terrorist."

"When she's the one sitting on your bladder, you can call her whatever you want."

"Daddy's home!" Your eight-year-old sprints through the living room with a posse of children behind him. Issac can keep pace with his long legs, but the girls— Lucy, Sophia, and Violet— struggle with their little, four-year-old strides. Poor JJ is left in the dust and gives you the saddest face ever as his cousins run past. Dina coos and takes JJ to soothe him and give him a chance to get in on the action as Joel trudges over the threshold with a gaggle of children and H-E-B bags slung over both arms.

"Little help?" He calls as he enters the living room. Everyone starts getting up from the couch to help unload the groceries, but Joel lifts a grocery-clad hand before Sarah can move a muscle. "Not you, mama. You rest."

"Thank you." She says, and he hums, kisses her head, and elbows his way into the kitchen. One by one, you unload the groceries from the bed of Hank's truck and into their respective places around the house. Sam and Issac run away with an impressively large slab of brisket to give to Hank, and all three of the girls get distracted by the large metal tins of Christmas popcorn, complete with images of Santa wearing a cowboy hat on the side.

It's chaos, but it's perfect chaos. Festive music and sweet smells float around the house as the sun sets on a chilly December Texas day. The lights around the house and on the tree cast the rooms in a comforting red, green, and white glow. You catch the kids laughing and whispering to each other as Tommy and Lucia dance together between stirring, patting, and baking. Dina and Ellie guide JJ around the house, helping him strengthen his wobbly legs and letting him feel involved. Ethan steals snacks from the pantry and brings them to Sarah's throne of a chair. You think he'd bring the world to her if she asked for it in this moment. Hank is in the backyard and bounces between showing the boys how the barbeque works and how to make the cows moo back.

You're smiling at the insanity when Joel jerks his head toward the front door. "Got one last thing in the truck I need help with," he supplies. You figure it's something from Santa or something he didn't want the kids to see and get excited about. So, you agree and follow him out into the orange dusk and shiver a little at the sudden temperature change. You get all the way to the driver's side of the old pickup when he looks up at the tree he parked under, making you look up, too. You can't stop the laugh from leaving you at what you find. Hung above the truck in a tree older than Joel is a tiny sprig of mistletoe tied with nimble guitarist fingers.

"When did you even have time to hang that?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"Anythin' is possible with Christmas magic." He snarks. You laugh and step into him, looking between him and the mistletoe as his cologne wraps around you.

"You're cheesy," you say. "And also stupidly romantic."

"Yeah, yeah." He says as he leans down to kiss you. His beard scratches your face, but he makes up for it in the sweet way he holds you. He's warm and firm and so fucking perfect it makes you wish you could freeze this moment forever. He mumbles a quiet "I love you" and presses kisses all over your face like he's worried the spell will break if his lips leave you.

Ten years ago, you got married on this same property. Eight years ago, you brought your son here for his first Christmas, and then four years later, your daughters. Your grandchildren have also spent their first holiday seasons here (Lucia was more than willing to buy a menorah and learn about Hannukah for Dina the second she found out she didn't celebrate Christmas). Every Christmas, you've brought Daisy and watched her run in the backyard. Then walk. Then lay down in front of the door, sighing like an old man. You know, perhaps someday soon, you'll have your first Christmas since your twenties without her. Someday, the kids will have their own traditions and families. Someday, Lucia and Hank won't have the energy to host the entire Miller-Hernandez-Caradonna clan for holidays. But that's someday. Right now, you're kissing Joel under an old tree with fairy lights and mistletoe strung throughout its branches, and the air is cold and full of nostalgia, and it's chaos. It's perfect. Until a distant cow moos loud enough for it to reach you all the way in the front yard and makes Joel pull away from you with an astounded look on his face.

"Was that fucking Roger?"

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

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demeternatiart · 1 month ago

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It's here! The 2025 calendars are here! 😁

I finished the calendar project and now you can get my artworks in a calendar too. You can follow the adventures of Lucia, the witch cat and her friends.

Get the calendar here (or link in the bio too):

https://www.etsy.com/shop/natisartstore

A spiral bound magical 2025 calendar with full of my artworks in 21 x 26 cm size (size of the pages). It can bring joy every month with a new art piece.

All of the prints in the calendar are signed, so you can use the pages separetedly as an artprint once you finished with the calendar. Printed on 200 gsm mixed media paper. This paper enhances colors and gives a little bit of texture to the print.

You will also reveive a metal binder clip so you can hang up the calendar on the wall without making a hole in the pages.

You can choose which type of calendar would you like to receive (see the examples on the photos):

1. Monday start

2. Sunday start

The calendars are handmade.

#calendar #2025 calendar #handmade #small business #artists on tumblr #small artist #whimsical #traditional art #illustration #cat #cat art #drawing #cats of tumblr #cat drawing #watercolor painting #watercolor #witchy

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mermaidchansons · 2 years ago

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Warm Colors: Chapter 9 (FINAL)

SugarDaddy!M’Baku x Oshun(reader)

Summary: Oshun celebrates her 32nd birthday. M’Baku gets some choice words from T’Challa that make him rethink his last conversation with the love of his life.

Words: 3500+

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: This is it. The final chapter, y’all! Thank you so much to those who read and re-read this story, even throughout my absence from writing during the lockdown. I have fallen in love with these characters over and over again. I really enjoyed growing with this story as a writer and a sad little slut. Love y’all.

Translations: Awufuni ukuyiphinda loo nto(you don’t want to repeat that), Intloko (chief), sthandwa (my love), ukukhanya kobomi bam (light of my life), Ikumkani wam (my queen)

Chapter 9

“Hey, Google, play It Gets Better by The Internet.”

The Google home blared music throughout the studio loft as Oshun shuffled to her couch in her brown teddy bear slippers. Plopping down next to her little brown kitten, Curry, she scrolled through her emails and opened one titled ‘Gallery: Final Decisions’.

Here are the final prints, they’ll be put up this morning before the event tonight. You should be proud of yourself, Oshun. These look amazing. See you tonight!

P.S. Happy birthday, lovely.

Colored prints of her paintings were attached to the body of the message, along with some black and white photos from her film camera. In one of them, a wide gap-toothed smile rests on a man's face; his onyx skin contrasted against the white silk sheets beneath him; his strong hands gripping the thighs of the person sitting atop him, capturing the photo.

This was the first time Oshun had looked at these photos since she found the film canister in an unpacked duffle bag in the back of her closet. After she had returned from St. Lucia, she buried herself in her work. That was the only path she could handle to move forward. Six months can pass so quickly when you bury yourself in the sand. Finishing commissions left and right, and even catching the interest of a famous singer that wanted to use her artwork as inspiration for an album. As time rushed by, Oshun had become a rising star with her art being reposted and purchased by household names.

“I’m heading out, baby. I’ll see you at your birthday dinner.”

But the success of her art could not keep the loneliness from gnawing at her heart. So she backslid, hard. She ran into Yemoya while touring galleries to premiere her art. Yemoya ran the exact gallery that she had set her sights on and they hit it off once again but with more grounding. Yemoya was already in an established relationship but both she and her girlfriend Sage were interested in Oshun. And Oshun was fine with coming and going as she pleased. Their unofficial throuple worked; for now.

“Alright, please tell Ye to keep it minimal at the gallery. You know how she gets,” Oshun said, leaning her head back against the couch.

“Hey, I know Ye and I weren’t exactly what you were planning for but thank you for letting us hold place in your life. You’re such a gem, O.”

Oshun stared oddly at Sage, trying to read between the lines of her mystery-laced words. Sage was always more poetic while Yemoya was a bit blunter and to the point. But sometimes, she couldn’t quite place what Sage was trying to say. Or what she was hiding.

“Uh, thank you? Should I be worried?”

Sage chuckled and leaned down to peck her lips before heading out the door.

“Bye!”

Oshun, more confused than before, continued to scroll through the remaining attachments in the email before locking her phone and throwing it aside. Curry waltzed over and curled up in Oshun’s lap, eliciting an ‘awe, sweet baby’ from her lips. This was all she needed; her cat, a fling with a couple of women, and her first gallery event. But every time she looked at those damn photos, she began to wonder… was this all she needed?

Golden City, Wakanda

Two days prior

“Thank you for your time, this concludes our meeting for today.”

M’Baku watched the tribal elders walk out of the throne room, chatting about their new exploits and local gossip. He was leaned to the side with his chin in his hand as his mind rested for the first time in weeks. Training new warriors was extensive, collaborating with T’Challa on field missions was tiring, and getting his stubborn people acquainted with the new tech that Shuri invented was anything but a walk in the park. Once the meeting had ended, he felt no need to race back to the mountains that he called home. He just needed to rest. Besides, running back to an empty bed would only cause him more anguish.

“Lord M’Baku, I am surprised. Most times you would have been the first elder to leave. What keeps you,” T’Challa chuckled, taking a seat in front of M’Baku.

“I am simply resting my mind before my trek. Is that a crime?”

“Not in this country, at least. But normally you’d be rushing to see who you called ‘the divine feminine’.”

“That is in the past,” M’Baku said matter-of-factly.

“In the past? And why is that?”

M’Baku sighed loudly and rubbed the back of his head. He had no interest in opening old wounds and pouring out his heart anywhere, especially not in the Golden City. He had hidden away all thoughts of her. If there was one thing his father had taught him before he left this plane of existence, it was that there is no use in dwelling on matters of the heart. A leader only looks to the past for lessons to avoid future mistakes.

“It is simple, really. My council did not approve of our courtship so I cut it off. Now if you’ll excuse me, King.”

M’Baku stood and swiftly headed to the doors of the throne room.

“You are many things, Lord M’Baku, but I never pegged you to be a coward,” T’Challa accused, his words stinging the Great Gorilla’s pride. M’Baku stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at the King, tightening his hold around his birchwood staff.

“Awufuni ukuyiphinda loo nto.”

“You would have me believe that your decision was not made out of cowardice?”

“T’Challa you try my patience,” M’Bkau grunted, turning to face him, “You may be King but-”

“But what? All this talk for me and yet you probably didn’t object to your council. What else can you call that if not cowardice?”

“You cannot talk as if you were there. I made a decision for my people and she made hers. What more is there to do?”

“You could fight for her. If this American woman is who your heart has chosen, how can you deny it?”

M’Baku walked back over to T’Challa and took his seat once again. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. His mind was moving a mile a minute as he repeated the words in his mind. Even if his heart had chosen her, how could he move forward now?

“Hear me when I say this, Your people need to step into the future and embrace those that we have forgotten, those we have abandoned. You need to make it right. If not for her, then for yourself,” T’Challa said with conviction, before walking away.

M’Baku rolled his eyes as he watched the king saunter away as if he had won their fight all over again. The king stopped in his tracks right as he was exiting. Holding the door with one hand, he turned back to M’Baku with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Inform me when you return from your trip. I would love to meet this elusive woman who has softened you.”

Ifechi and Akunna walked into the birch-laden throne room to see M’Bele and Zoya standing on either side of a sitting M’Baku. He was dressed in civilian clothing which was a rarer sight these days.

“Lord M’Baku, what is the urgent matter you wanted to discuss? Are we to be under attack,” Lady Ifechi questioned.

“I have an announcement to make. I am leaving tonight to go retrieve my bride and future chieftess in Los Angeles. I will be bringing her back to Jabariland to meet the people. Please prepare the ceremonial rituals.”

“Intloko, I must protest. The people will not-”

“MY people,” M’Baku said, cutting Ifechi off, “will come to know and love their new chieftess.”

Lady Ifechi balled up her fists and hit Akunna’s shoulder, signaling for him to step in and say something, anything.

“Lord M’Baku,” Akunna stuttered, clearing his throat, “you cannot just take her as a wife. We discussed some time ago why…”

Akunna’s speech trailed off as he watched M’Baku swiftly approach and stop just short of his feet. The chief was at least a foot taller than him and Akunna didn’t dare meet his eyes.

“Did you think I was asking permission? You two may be my council members, yes, but moving forward you will have no say in my personal matters. Is that clear?” M’Baku’s loud commands rang in Akunna’s ears and he simply nodded in silence. M’Baku looked sternly at his two council members and puffed out his chest in preparation.

“I can no longer enable this ignorance. We must welcome the lost tribe with open arms, they have suffered as Wakanda has sat on the sidelines. If you two are not willing to change your way of thinking and follow me into the future, then you will find no place on this council.

I have denied myself love and comfort as I thought that sacrifice was the key to being a great leader. No longer.”

The council members nodded their heads once more and M’Baku grunted in agreement. He turned away from them, walking back to his throne and taking his seat once more.

“You may leave. M’Bele will act as chief until I return.”

And with the finality of his commands still buzzing in his chest, the chief of Jabariland smirked as he watched Akunna and Ifechi make a quick exit.

Downtown Los Angeles

leaving the gallery

Oshun walked out of the bathroom after changing into a completely different outfit than the one she wore whilst working the crowd at her first gallery show. Networking and being introduced to person after person was too much to do in heels. She had kept it casual with a color-blocked boilersuit and chucks. But now that they were headed out to her birthday dinner? She was going all out. Black mesh see-through jumpsuit with a black wrap dress and just enough cleavage on display. She tippy-toed in her chunky black boots to readjust her golden jewelry in the funky mirror on the wall. Her fingers brushed against the long hanging golden cowrie shell necklace that lay between her breasts and she groaned loudly; stomping her foot like a child. Oshun just wanted to not think about him for one night. It was supposed to be a happy night, celebrating her 32nd trip around the sun with friends and lovers and food, divine, delicious food! She thought briefly about taking it off; even throwing it away. But she could never bring herself to do it.

“O, come on, we gone be late, girl,” she heard Megan yell from around the corner. Oshun skipped over to meet her and wrapped her arm around Megan’s. Trying to put her mind on pause, she rested her head on her tall friend’s arm.

“Sorry, I know I’m running on cp time. Thanks for planning this.”

“Well, there'll be a few surprises at dinner so, don’t thank me just yet,” Megan noted, mumbling at the end of her sentence.

“What kind of-”

“No time to talk, the car’s here!”

Megan rushed her out of the gallery and into a black SUV where Shellee was already seated in the back. The drive to Baltaire was as busy as it could be, but then again that was Los Angeles. Native Angelenos will leave a half hour early for an event and still resort to checking directions on Maps just to see how much traffic they’d be in. The freeway was bumper to bumper, but Oshun didn’t mind. She was too busy listening to her friends squabble over which male actor was sexier.

“I can’t help but look at him and think, I just know it’s big. It’s heavy,” Megan almost moaned, fanning herself as Shellee and Oshun laughed at her.

Once the SUV pulled up to the restaurant, the valet opened the door and helped the three of them out. They headed inside and met up with the rest of their party that was waiting with balloons and presents next to the concierge.

Baltaire was a chic steakhouse in the heart of Los Angeles that Oshun was introduced to when she sold a painting to her first high-income client. The lighting was low enough to provide a relaxed ambiance but light enough for you to see your food. Their dining room and bar were elegantly decorated. Black leather chairs surrounded each of the white linen-clad tables on the inside portion, while the outdoor area was surrounded by reclaimed wood and large potted plants. The clinking and clanking of glasses and pots and pans drew attention to their kitchen. Floor-to-ceiling windows provided a view into the inner sanctum; one couldn’t help but stare at the chefs and line cooks as they ebbed and flowed from one station to another.

This night, however, was such a special occasion that Shellee and Megan booked the private Juniper room for Oshun’s birthday dinner. And after everyone had filed in after the concierge, the curtains were closed and Oshun sat at the head of the table. She slouched back in her chair and threw her hands in the air.

“Oh bitch, this is opulence!”

Two hours into the celebration, empty plates had already been cleared and Oshun was opening prettily wrapped boxes from the small pile of presents that had accumulated in the corner of the room. Just as Oshun was about to thank her friend for the gift, Megan stood up and made her way out.

“Meg, where are you-”

“I’ll be right back!”

Oshun went on opening her next gift and only lifted her head at the sound of the door closing. She looked up to see Megan, who she expected. The person next to her, however, was the last person she expected to walk through that door.

“M-M’Baku?”

There he was. The sole reason for all her torment; all the countless nights she spent crying herself to sleep. Between the endless tears and her ever-growing need to utilize her art as an outlet for everything she was feeling, Oshun partially felt like she should be thanking M’Baku. Her heartbreak had brought inspiration out of her that she had been searching for since that fateful day in DC. Yes, she wanted to thank him; and then ask him to leave.

“Megan, what the fuck is going on?”

Oshun’s breathing became uneven as her eyes darted between the two of them. It was as if no time had passed. He was still gorgeous and ever regal. With an all-black long-sleeve sweater that hugged his biceps and a gold chain gleaming against his chest, it was easy to see why everyone in the room was now giving him the eye. Oshun looked toward Sage and Yemoya in apology but their faces had a knowing look.

“It’s alright, O. Don’t freak out,” Sage said in hushed tones while Yemoya nodded. Oshun looked back to the culprits at hand with her palm laying on her abdomen. Nausea had descended upon her and she knew the only remedy would be an explanation. And someone had better start talking soon.

“Oshun, come speak with me for a moment. I won’t keep you long,” M’Baku practically pleaded.

And as if his command was wired into her body, she stood and walked over to him. Everyone watched her silently with small smiles on their faces and Oshun rolled her eyes.

“We need to have a conversation about boundaries,” Oshun chided Meg, before walking out behind the man that just rerouted the course of her birthday night.

She followed M’Baku over to the bar and took a seat next to him. The bartender came over to offer drinks and she declined, saying they wouldn’t be there long. Once they were alone, M’Baku reached forward and touched the golden cowrie shell hanging from her necklace. She watched as he rubbed his thumb over the charm and gulped. Her stomach was beginning to knot and she cursed herself; she knew it wasn’t because of the food. The back of his hand had brushed against her chest and she suddenly wanted to be in his arms. To think that her body would react to the slightest touch from him, it was as if she had been starved of human interaction for years. But no, it was just him.

“You’re still wearing it,” he mumbled. Oshun softly pushed his hand away and avoided meeting his eyes.

“M’Baku, you can’t just show up and blow up the spot. Regardless of whatever sneaky plan Megan came up with. You can’t just pop up.”

“You look beautiful as always, sthandwa. I heard the gallery show was a success.”

“No, we’re not doing this. What. Do. You. Want?”

“I will speak plainly,” M’Baku said, resting a strong hand on her mesh-covered thigh, “I want you.”

Oshun went to move his hand off of her thigh but he held her hand in place, tenderly rubbing his thumb across the soft skin of her knuckles.

“M’Baku, please don’t. Don’t say that like you mean it.”

“I have spent months in cowardice, longing for you. Praying to Hanuman and asking for them to take away my memories of you. The pain that I alone caused was too much to bear. I cannot erase those mistakes, thixokazi wam, but I can move forward with purpose. With you.”

Oshun’s vision had begun to get blurry. Her eyes had gotten misty watching the chief lay out his emotions. Of all the things that could happen today, she didn’t expect the greatest love of her life, the one that got away, to be pouring his heart out to her in the middle of a steakhouse on San Vicente. She watched M’Baku stand from his seat and kneel in front of her.

“Oshun, ukukhanya kobomi bam, I would love nothing more than to take you to Jabariland for you to meet my people and become my wife.”

She gently pushed his shoulder, praying that he would get up. A tear or two had quickly become a river, streaming down her face. M’Baku held her hands to his mouth and peppered kisses along her hands.

“M’Baku you can’t just ask me that, after all this time. I can’t just- I won’t go where I’m not wanted. I can’t do that,” she cried softly, speaking in hushed tones so as not to bring any more attention to them.

“You are wanted. My people welcome you with open arms, they have no choice but to.”

“But still, Baku you’re a whole chief. I’m just me. Think of your people-”

“I have thought of my people and only my people since I sat on the throne at the age of 19. Now I am thinking of myself. Ikumkani wam, I cannot rest another night without you by my side,” he cooed, pulling a box from his pocket and setting it on the bar beside them.

She looked over to the now open door of her private dining room to see all her friends and lovers watching. Their smiling faces were mouthing encouragement and Oshun shook her head. She didn’t want to look at either her friends or the man professing his love on one knee in front of her. She wanted to run.

“I can’t.”

In the time between the island and now, Oshun’s only coping mechanism was to blame herself for why it couldn’t work out with M’Baku. That was always her M.O. That was the only way she could control the trajectory of her pain, through blame. Then she could siphon off how much pain she needed to beat into herself with each passing day. Her mind had told her that she was not deserving and she believed it. And yet, the chief of a tribe was on his knees disrupting that thinking process and begging her to be his wife.

“I don’t know if I deserve this kind of love, M’Baku. I can’t be.”

“You are more than deserving, Oshun and I will spend the rest of my days proving that to you. The question is, sthandwa, will you let me? Hmm?”

Oshun finally let herself do what she could not since he walked through the door of the Juniper room and blew her life wide open. She met his eyes and saw so much warmth and love in them. Honest and pleading eyes looked back at her and she knew this was it. How could she continue to cut off access to her heart when his heart was bleeding for her? A sigh escaped Oshun’s mouth as all the pain she had been holding onto left her body. She nodded her head and chuckled through sobs as she heard Megan yell ‘yes’. M’Baku stood up once again and held Oshun’s tear-streaked face between his large hands.

“Ndiyakuthanda, thixokazi wam,” he whispered before taking her bottom lip between his. Clapping erupted through the restaurant as he pecked from her lips to her chin and cheeks.

“I love you. I love you, I love you,” Oshun repeated.

Once all the excitement died down, Oshun sat with M’Baku at the bar, wearing her new ring.

“So does this make me a chieftess?”

“It does,” M’Baku chuckled.

“What do we do now?”

“I’m taking you home with me, sthandwa.”

THE END

@great-neckpectations @babybluepeaches @muse-of-mbaku @melaninmarvel @ashanti-notthesinger @naturallyqueenie @howtoshuckatlife @tgigoldie @archivistofwakanda @alexundefined @minyara-kun @destinio1 @siriuslycollinss @raysunshine78 @madamslayyy @notdsg @ghostfacekill-monger @soufcakmistress @greennightspider @bitchacho25 @elaindeereads @whatthefuckbilly143 @jordanhelah @puremolasses @ajspencer1892 @wakanda4everinthisbitch @monochrome-pineapple @psuedo4 @bubblyqueen @chaneajoyyy

@blowmymbackout @tchallasbabymama @bellabiachi

#m'baku imagine #m'baku x plussize!reader #m'baku x reader #m'baku x black!reader #sugardaddy!m'baku #sugar daddy fanfic #black panther fic #bpwf #black panther #wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forvever #winston duke #jabari tribe

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eileenslibrary · 8 months ago

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Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Episode 4: Files, Family, Friends, And Records

Wriothesley x NB! Reader

Warnings: Grieving, OOC Wriothesley, Murder, Crimes, Terrible People

You look at the newspaper Charlotte forced into your hands before chasing after the strange man “I spoke with the duke” you mumble looking at the photo “How could I be so dumb” you whisper walking back onto the Aqua Bus.

Ding!

“Madam and Sir Dumas have arrived Master” you hear George speak through the door “Please tell them I’ll be down in a moment, also prepare some tea and crumpets” you speak powdering your face and clipping on your pearl jewelry, you look in the mirror, long black pants with a gold belt, a white scruffed blouse, a black vest, a pearl necklace, a pair of pearl earrings, and a black hat to finish off the look. You take in a deep breath and open your bedroom door, you look over the stair railing and see Claude’s parents huddled on the couch sniffling you hear Mrs. Dumas “I can’t believe he’s gone” Your heart squeezes at the pain in her voice, you take one more breath and make your way downstairs “Good morning Mrs. Mr. Dumas” you bow slightly in respect for them “Oh sweetheart” Claude’s mom Angelina sobs quickly standing and pulling you into a hug, you quickly reciprocate “This must be twice as hard for you, y-your brother” she sobs into your shoulder, you are at a loss for words you expected to be screamed and shamed for your brother, you never really got to know Claude’s parents because they were always out on business but when you met them at first they were cold and quiet, but you feel so much better knowing they don’t hate you. “Angelina I think Mx. Vincent is getting quite uncomfortable” Claude’s father Charles sighs looking at you both “Yes yes, sorry dear” She quickly steps back and sits back on the couch “I think it’s time we discuss” you hum sitting on the armchair.

“I have gotten a permit to meet with Wriothesley of the Fortress of Meropide to review my brother's past files and crimes. I will also gather information on Lady Lucia, Sir La’Cron, Lady Sirene, and Miss Ruby. There has to be something on them all, I will make sure Claude’s murder is not forgotten.” You stand placing your hand over your heart, eyes full of determination, Claude’s parents look at you in surprise and awe “Claude truly chose the right one” Charles sniffles bringing his pocket square to his nose as tears gather at the corners of his eyes. Angelina nods fighting back a sob as she brings her gloved hands to her face. You hold back tears of your own “I think it’s about time we eat lunch” George kicks in saving all of you from crying “That’s a splendid idea, George” You stand up and call for someone to clear the table and set up the dining room for all of you.

Two days passed.

You take in a deep breath standing at the entrance of the fortress, two guards stand next to you, you watch the elevator doors open and shakily walk inside “Will you be alright Mx. Vincent?” one of the guards asks “Yes, just a bit intimidated is all” you clasp your hands behind your back fidgeting with your ring, you still adorn, it’s one of the last things you have of him, you packed his clothes so his parents can choose what to do with it you kept his favorite pair of gloves as well and you wear them now to give you some extra strength to get through the day.

The doors of the second elevator leading down to the main floor open and you look up, a certain stranger stands there a bit wide-eyed ‘Nuevillette must not have warned him’ you think a smirk playing on your lips slightly “Hello again Duke” you tease stepping out of the lift. His eyes relax and he speaks “How may I help you Mx. Vincent?” he puts one of his hands in his pockets “I need to look at some files and crime records is all” You hum handing him the permit. His blue eyes scan the page he mumbles something under his breath that looked a lot like ‘Fuck’ You look at him expectantly he sighs “Follow me then” he starts walking, and you quickly follow “Didn’t expect to see me so soon did you?” you ask quietly “I guess you could say that, let me guess you’re here because of your brother” he inquires “Exactomundo, I need to get into his crime record as well as a few others” you answer.

He opens the large doors of his office, and you both make your way up the stairs, he leads you to the bookshelf and presses upon one of the books, you watch as a door is revealed beside the bookshelf “After you.” He insists and you hesitantly walk into the room, you look around and see large shelves full of drawers which you guess are filled with records and files “Follow me” Wriothesley hums walking farther into the room “What names do you need to be searched” “Lucia Abrigens, Ruby Grabiels, La’Cron Joel, and Sirene Reinhardt, Dominique Vincent, is this even legal?” You ask “You’re not in Fontaine anymore, welcome to the underworld where rules can be stretched. Plus I would like to see these crooks' crimes be brought to light” he leads you to the letter A “Connie Ariels, Karry Amlie, Lucia Abrigens right here” He grabs a rolling ladder next to the drawers climbing up it, he pulls out a large stack of files “Be ready to catch!” Wriothesley warns you to extend your hands so he can throw half of the stack in your arms. He throws the manilla folders down into your arms, steps down from the ladder, and plops the other half of the folders into your arms “Put those on my desk, I will grab the other ones” You make your way back to his desk putting the stack on the desk, he comes back in with a smaller stack “Ruby Gabriels right here” “Thanks sir” you walk back into the room “Y’know you can call me by my name” he follows after you watching you walk to the J section “I need another reminder” you joke reading the names and bending down to open the drawer for La’Cron he sighs his gaze falling to you “How long do you have until the trial?” “Ten days, Monsieur Nuevillette gave me extra days to gather evidence and let Claude's parents settle in so they aren’t startled, I mean they just found out their son was killed by his Fiance’s brother now they have to be a part of a trial with their son's murderer.”

You sigh hauling the stack over to his desk he follows holding Sirene’s files, it is a very big stack “Holy shit, just how many crimes did she commit” You gawk at the amount, “One too many, but what can you expect from people like them.” “Would you like to do the honors?” Wriothesley questions in a joking tone trying to lift the mood “I would actually” you huff in amusement “Lead the way” he chuckles motioning for you to go back into the room. You find it quickly “Need the ladder?” he inquires rolling it towards you. Wrio stands beside you offering you a hand up, you grab onto his forearm and hop up climbing to the second last step, you open the cabinet and pull out his files and records you hear Wriothesley whistle lowly “That’s a lot of records and files” “Yeah tell me about it” you huff “Can I have some help?” you chuckle nervously “Yeah, comin’ up” Wriothesley steps onto the first four steps of the ladder and takes half of the files “Thanks Wriothesley” he nods stepping off the ladder balancing the stack on one of his hands and holds out the other as you come down the ladder, he grabs your arm when you get low enough “Careful” he says helping you off of the last step “Thanks” You smile at him walking back into his office and putting the stacks on the desk. “What now? We just spent fifteen minutes collecting these files.” “Now I go through about 500 or so files in ten days” You place your head on his desk sighing “Better start now I guess” You huff sitting back up.

Six hours passed.

Tick

Tick. . .

“Four hundred and fifty left” You huff “Thank you again, Wriothesley for letting me stay here so I can get all the proof I need” he looks up from his papers a pair of silver reading glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose “As I said, I want to see these crooks get what’s comin' for ‘em” he looks at the clock “It is quite late how about you head to bed, I’ll be in here working come and get me if you need anything” he stretches stands up and turns towards the wolf insignia on his wall he hits a latch and pulls back the metal plate and reveals a nice bedroom with a small cot set up for you with some soft blankets to keep the cold out. “I was thinking the same actually, I guess I’ll see you in the morning” You step past him and into his room, you slink to the cot and slip off your vest, hat, and shoes, you slide under the blankets and close your eyes.

#wriothesley #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin fontaine

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schtrawberry · 2 years ago

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dressing based on my zodiac signs: cancer ascendant, aries venus, aquarius lilith

[!] i am not the biggest fashion person out there. these are all mostly based on my personal style with a hint of whatever ~vibe~ each of my signs gave me.

brief description. cancer is the nostalgic presence of the zodiac that floats between the past and the present. as a rising sign, she is soft, compassionate, and gentle yet able to stun with their elegance and ability to run with the currents of life.

really leaning into the fact that cancer is probably the most earthy water sign; hence the heavy amount of pale greens and yellows as my inspiration.

a lot of house of sunny bc i feel like they capture that casual comfy yet feminine vibe that i think cancer embodies really well. knits, pastels, the occasional 70's funk-inspired patterns and styles— the nostalgia!

another brand that comes to mind is réalisation par for a more soft look. the brand features lots of flowing fabrics, sustainably-sourced cotton, mini dresses, pretty floral prints, and more subdued colors.

pale pinks and yellows partnered with all different shades of blue and green!

chunky knits, light cardigans, and flowery or retro-ish patterns.

in terms of jewelry: a single mini freshwater pearl necklace paired with a gold figaro chain choker would be nice. copious amounts of minimalistic rings bc as i've said before, cancer is still a material girl! perhaps more on the minimalistic side for all her jewelry in general with just a few simple, high quality pieces that only enhance her elegant and feminine side.

brands that come to mind: LoQ the brand, ciao lucia!, faithfull the brand, posse, realisation par, reformation, house of sunny, rachel antonoff.

brief description. the first sign of the zodiac, aries channels youth and the start of new things! in venus, she is in touch with her childlike nature whether it be in the bright colors she chooses, the eye-catching prints that make her heart go 'thump-thump!', or her unconscious pull towards red.

one particular piece that i feel captures the playful fieriness and undeniable sexiness of the aries venus is the luz dress in havana by réalisation par! google it and you'll see why.

aries is the child of the zodiac. i see them channeling boldness and vibrance in their clothes; whether it be through the colors, cut, or patterns— hence the neon colors to cut through the pinks and reds.

the feminine influence of venus brings with it bright shades of pink and yellow to complement the fieriness of aries.

gimaguas x lea colombo collection comes very much to mind as well. i used a lot a lot of the photos used for this collection's lookbook in my lil moodboard because i think the play between the vibrant shades of pink, red, and yellow and boldly body-loving nature of the sleeveless bodycon dress really fit the vision that i had for aries venus— lively, forever in motion whether it be in love or otherwise, and completely in tune with the boldness of mars. [i recommend checking the artworld post by sarah bassett for this collection; i found it to be rlly cool :)]

in terms of jewelry: i only see chunky rings for this sign! i would hate to overstimulate the senses with too many different things going on in one look so i think chunky rings and the right amount of light jewelry will be more than enough.

brands that come to mind: tach clothing, tyler mcgillivary, gimaguas, rua carlota [bc aries is environmentally-friendly like that!], mirror palais, some of the looks by réalisation par.

brief description. aquarius is the visionary of the zodiac. in lilith, she is attracted to all that is unordinary and liberating; every outfit, hairstyle, accessory, is a new experience. her promiscuity and independence shines through in her style— she screams "i don't dress to please any man!"

for aquarius: just... whatever paloma wool has got going on.

lots of paloma wool pieces come to mind. the mix of color and irregular shapes that are distinctive of that brand just fit the archetype of the spunky and colorful aquarius.

special mention: the nika milano x paloma wool collection reminds me so much of the naturally electric eccentricity that comes with the planet uranus. the heavy use of strong-colored gradients and form-fitting fabrics only add to the boldness associated with uranus. in lilith, she is perhaps even less afraid to let loose and show that.

i see dark, shimmery material like rayon or viscose for this sign; cloths that can carry a lot of color and funky prints. this can then be partnered with more solid fabrics like structured cotton or leather!

pieces by ed curtis and his art [find him on ig @ed_curtis_] also inspired the vision i had for this sign. there's just something about his use of bright swirls and roughly stitched fabric that feels reminiscent of the aquarius 'idgaf' nature.

in terms of jewelry: something with opal on it— whether it be a necklace pendant, an earring charm, or an adorned piece of body jewelry. the shade will have to depend on the distinct aura of the wearer; as no two aquarius natives are alike and it's influence can present itself in different ways, depending on an individuals other signs and personality. perhaps a mood ring as well, i don't know, i like to think that an aquarius lilith would bravely wear their heart on their sleeve like that.

brands that come to mind: other than paloma wool, akyn, distal phalanx, jungles jungles, suicoke, laagam [esp their neptune dress!].

so that was it for my zodiac! i recommend that everyone do this w their own signs bc lawd, i enjoyed making this.

#alis does astrology #dressing like my sign/s #zodiac #zodiac signs #astrology #amateur astrology #cancer ascendant #cancer rising #aries venus #aquarius lilith

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lovesosweeet · 1 year ago

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better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirty nine

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

november 19, 2018 san diego, california orion

Today is the final day of the tour, and it’s also the day that they’re in Madrid. I should be there, and I know that fact very well. Emelia is off for Thanksgiving break, so I would’ve been, too. We could have gone, but instead, we are at my family’s house doing practically nothing.

I spend a long time in the shower. It’s nice to stand under the stream of water because it camouflages my tears. There’s no clarity whether the droplets are tears or water and that keeps me feeling a little less shitty for how much I’ve been crying lately.

It feels like any time I get a moment alone I start crying.

Missing Calum is hard enough, but knowing how little life I have left to live is an awful, gut wrenching feeling.

I’ve had my phone in hand with Calum’s contact open far too many times to count. I’ve typed messages and deleted them. I’ve even considered deleting his contact altogether to make reaching out to him next to impossible since I clearly don’t have the guts to reach out and it’ll torment me every day.

I want him here with me. I do. I want that more than anything. I can’t even call it a change of heart because I know that’s what I’ve always wanted. Some kind of switch flipped in me when I saw the pictures of him with Paula and I finally admitted it to myself.

That should be me is all I could think, staring at the photos of them hugging, leaning close to each other to talk at the bar. I’ve craved a hug from Calum from the moment he left me.

One of the worst thoughts I’ve had is what if I reach out and he doesn’t reply? What if I’m too late? What if I’ve fucked it all up beyond repair? That fear is one of the many things holding me back. I’m scared to reach out and it ends up that I’m still alone and aching to have him home with me.

I’m still scared of the idea of watching me die and how that will take a toll on him. The thought is still terrifying, but I still, selfishly, want him to be with me.

I haven’t told anyone this. I’m sure the second I tell Emelia she will grab my phone and call him herself.

Em and I are planning on streaming the Madrid show if we can tonight, assuming someone goes live to share the show. She said if she has to she will call Crystal and have her Facetime us the whole time, but that’s not my favorite option.

I finish up my shower and get dressed in another random combination of sweatpants and sweatshirt, putting on my bunny slippers that my moms got me for my birthday. I don’t know how I’ve made it to 22 without a pair, but I’m grateful for the adorable, cozy footwear regardless. I find Emelia in my bedroom when I exit the bathroom, scrolling on her phone, perched on the edge of my bed that she must have decided to make for me.

“Paula and Lucia are with them,” she announces, holding her phone up to me.

I get closer to her, sitting next to her on my bed so she can give me her phone. It’s opened to Paula’s Instagram story, which is a photo of her hand, complete with her new, dazzling engagement ring, Lucia’s hand, and Calum’s hand, all three reaching for a box of donuts from my favorite donut shop in Madrid. She has the location tagged at Retiro.

“For old time’s sake,” she wrote on top.

I tap the screen, letting the next image on her story show. It’s a selfie of Paula, Lucia, Calum, Luke, Sierra, and Crystal. They’re sitting by the water at Retiro. I should be there. I wish I was there.

I sigh, closing out of the Instagram app and giving Em her phone back. “Looks like they’re having fun,” I say, my voice cracking as I try to stifle the tears I have forming in my eyes.

Emelia wraps an arm around me and rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m sure they all wish you were there just as badly as you want to be there.”

I sniffle and wipe the tears from my eyes. “Maybe.”

She sighs and thankfully doesn’t say anything else about it. “C’mon, come help me write my paper. I don’t wanna have to deal with it on Thanksgiving.”

If it was up to me, I’d spend the rest of the day in bed alone, but when Em is here, she gives me only one allowance of wallow-in-bed-and-pretend-to-nap time per day. It’s been almost every day that I tell her I want to take a nap and then instead I just lay in bed and cry. I’m sure she knows that’s what I actually do, but we don’t talk about it.

—

As if she could read my mind from all those miles away, Paula goes live for the concert. As far as I can tell, she’s in the VIP section. It doesn’t look like many other people are watching her live, so I’m almost certain she is streaming just for me.

Emelia and I watch together, curled up in the guest bedroom with a bottle of wine and a huge bowl of popcorn. We sing along the whole time, tears in my eyes for most of it. It’s my first and only time seeing the show from the whole tour. I knew it would hurt too much after the breakup, and before I wanted to be surprised by it in San Diego. Em and I both knew I needed to see it at least once. I didn’t think through the fact that I possibly wouldn’t actually see the San Diego show.

Calum not singing his verses in Amnesia and Ghost of You cuts me deeply, which has been true since the breakup based on Twitter, and both Emelia and I cry when they play those two. Cal doesn’t even face the crowd during those songs.

As the show nears its end, in a break after Jet Black Heart, Calum steps to his microphone.

“Madrid!” He starts, and Luke and Michael snap their heads to him, shocked. I guess they weren’t expecting him to take a talking break. The crowd cheers loudly at his pronunciation, since he says it like Mah-dree rather than Muh-drid. He hadn’t spoken the whole show, and, if I know Calum, he hasn’t been speaking much on tour at all, especially not in the wake of the breakup.

“Excuse me if I fuck this up, but I asked a friend to help me with this translation. If it’s wrong, blame her,” he says and he laughs.

“He’s talking about me,” I hear Paula say. She knows I’m watching. I’m sure of it.

“Tu ciudad tiene un pedazo enorme de mi corazón. Te he extrañado y te quiero.” Calum fumbles through the Spanish that he reads off a scrap of paper. The crowd screams louder then than they have so far for anything else they’ve done tonight. I’m sure no one expected Calum to have said more than two or three words in Spanish, so it’s exciting to have him say something beyond te quiero and gracias.

“Uh, back to English,” he says while he tucks the piece of paper into his back pocket. “I’m sure some of you know why I love this city, and that’s never going to change. Thank you for having us tonight, the last night of this tour. You’ve been incredible and we will never forget you. This next one is one of my favorites, and again, I’m sure some of you know why. Let’s take it home, okay? This is Want You Back!”

The lights turn off and the room of people screams when the opening notes resound throughout the arena they’re playing. Throughout this song, Calum actually bobs his head and sways a little, getting into the music the way he used to but hasn’t throughout the entire show. He seemingly stares directly at Paula’s phone, and I wonder if he knows she’s streaming the show for me to watch it.

“Are you gonna call him?” Emelia asks in the middle of the song.

I look to her, tears filling my eyes again. “I don’t know, Em. I’m scared.”

She doesn’t say anything else then, just nods.

At the end of Want You Back, which is supposed to be their last song aside from the encore, Michael and Ashton take their bows and Luke and Calum just clap at them. Michael and Ash look confused, but just wave to the crowd. They check behind their shoulders and find Calum and Luke still at their mic stands, but they continue their exit from the stage.

“Madrid, for an extra something special this evening, Calum and I decided we’d like to treat you to a little surprise,” Luke says. From the side of the stage, an acoustic guitar is being brought to Luke.

“If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna steal Luke’s mic stand!” Calum says into his mic. The crowd cheers and he hands his bass to the stage tech that brought Luke the guitar. Cal is now center stage, looking incredibly nervous. “We’ve never played this one before, but we hope you like it.”

Look at the stars Look how they shine for you

Calum sings softly while Luke strums the guitar. Luke is smiling widely at Calum like he’s a proud parent.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones Turn into something beautiful And you know, you know I love you so

Cal is crying again, but he manages to sing each word clearly.

And you know, for you, I'd bleed myself dry For you, I'd bleed myself dry

Every word seems to cause another tear in my eyes. Their cover of Yellow is officially my new favorite of theirs, and I know Cal chose it for me. It’s as clear as day. As they finish the song, the crowd erupts again, and then Luke holds his arms out to Cal, encouraging everyone to applaud him specifically. Cal bows and takes a step back, his hand resting on his chest. He waits for Luke to bow too before they walk offstage together.

As soon as they’re off the stage and the crowd starts to beg for an encore, Paula flips her phone around so we can see her, Lucia, Marta, and Crystal huddled together and smiling.

“For you!” Paula screams and then she turns the camera back so the boys can finish their usual set.

I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but Calum has just made me feel way more loved than I deserve, and it makes me want to reach out even more, but I still don’t know if I can or how I should. I officially want — no, need him back in my life. I need him by my side. I don’t know what it’ll take for it to happen and I’m terrified of whatever will be in between, but I know I’ll feel much better when he’s back in my life.

Em looks at me with teary eyes as the boys take the stage again.

“Em... I miss him so much.”

She hugs me tightly. “I know you do.”