#like!! he left his daughter at home with the promise to be back soon - he thought he'd just be goin into work like normal
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Invisible String - Part 6
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Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warning(s): Please be advised; this part might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.
Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.
SRās Note: My apologies, this took forever for me to finish writing for you all (I've had so much on my plate lately). I hope youāre ready ā all we have left is the finale! I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't read the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- I hope you are excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.
Tags: @mellowmusings @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can @adventure-awaits13 @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)
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"My bow tied?"
You sigh as you adjust the golden ribbon tied in the little girl's hair, her wide eyes looking to you for assurance. Though it's about the fifth time she's asked you to confirm, you answer her once more.
"Yes, dear," you say, smoothing down the front of her corduroy dress with reassurance. "I promise I tied it into your ponytail really good."
She nods, her little body buzzing with anticipation and excitement. You take her hand, leading her toward the front door of the Forest House where her father waits.
"Ready for your first day?" He asks, smiling prodly at his daughter though you can practically feel the way his heart hurts inside.
"I am, daddy!" She bounds over to him, clutching the strap of her pink backpack with a fluffy bunny printed on the front. When Eris arrived home with it last week, she could've practically exploded from sheer excitement.
He helps her slip it over her little shoulders, bending down and kissing the top of her head as he gazes at her. Your heart swells -- you knew, this wasn't just a big day for Riley, but for him too.
"We should walk outside -- the carriage service will be here soon, you won't want to miss it." He winks, and Riley giggles as she jumps up and down.
"Daddy -- Y/N coming too?" She asks as he takes her hand in his. He glances to you, and your eyes widen.
"Oh, no, honey, I think your father should bring you to your first day of school," you explain hastily. She huffs, trotting over to you and wrapping her small fingers around your palm.
"Pleeeeeeease, you come too?" She asks. Eris only shrugs, and you glance down into those big, pleading eyes once more.
"Alright, then," you hesitate, and she continues her celebration as though this was her birthday. Eris glances out the window, turning to face the two of you again before speaking.
"The carriage is just down the way; ready to go, Riles?" She nods, looking back to make sure you're following.
"I'll be just behind you," you say, jogging to the kitchen as they make their way through the front door. Spotting the mason jar in the middle of the table, you reach for it, and then hurry to catch up with the two out front.
:* ā§ļ½„ļ¾:
The rest of the day goes on per usual, though the house is errily quiet with Riley's absence.
Eris left for the Palace soon after Riley got on the carriage, which left you in the Forrest House... alone. All day.
You were cleaning for what felt like the 25th hour of the day when the clock struck 3 pm, and you quickly hurried outside. She would be home any minute, and you were dying to know how her first day of public school went.
Sure enough, the gleaming ivory of the carriage made it's debut over the hill; stopping just at the end of the drive. The doors were barely open before Riley burst out, running as fast as she could to you up the drive.
"Chris-anthem!"
You kneeled, stretching your arms wide as she lept into them full-force. She held onto you tightly, the only adieu to the carriage coach a small wave before he set off once more. When she finally let go, you asked her.
"How was your first-"
"A Chris-anthem!" She squealed again, this time thrusting her clenched fist toward you to look. In her palm, she held the stem of a rather wilty, dying orange bloom.
"Ohhh, your flower," you realized. "You asked what it was, hm?" She nodded happily.
"Yes! And Miss Peachum says its a Chris-anthem!" You chuckle, realizing the plant is indeed a Chrysanthemum.
"Ahh, I see," You say, half-distracted by the approaching male on horseback trotting toward the stables. His hair is radiant in the light of the setting sun, his shoulders set as he comes more into view.
"We should go inside -- I think your daddy is almost home, and I'm sure he'd love to hear about your first day at school."
:* ā§ļ½„ļ¾:
The routine becomes a little more established over the next couple of weeks as all of you adapt to the new schedule. On days Eris goes in later, he gets up with his daughter and gets her onto the carriage; on his early days, you do it. It's a nice routine, one that is almost perfect.
Almost.
You still longed for the feeling of his sheets, his warm embrace as he'd hold you through the night. How good it felt, even for just a short time, to feel so comfortable, as though your longing had been satiated -- now, it felt like those days were as good as gone.
"Oh, Y/N?" His voice was quiet in the silent hall of the house, Riley put into bed after another long day. You were jsut about to retire to your chambers when he spoke, his steps quick to catch you before you went to bed.
"Hm?" You turned, facing him in the dim evening light. He stepped close enough so you oculd make out his features, every freckle on his nose and the exact curve of his jaw -- but not too close to touch.
"I, uh, I just had something I wanted to ask you about," he fumbles, and you lean against the doorway as his eyes finally find yours.
"Anything," you say reassuringly, hating how uncharacteristically nervous he's being. He swallows, his lips parting in thought before he speaks again.
"The uh, the annual court ball is happening in three days," he says, his brows knitting. "And, uhm." He coughs to clear his throat, and you raise an eyebrow.
"Yessss?"
"Well, it's in the evening, um. I have to go, I mean. I have to attend." He says, biting the inside of his cheek. You nod in realization, your heart sinking just a bit.
"Right, right, I figured as much. I, uh. I don't have any plans, I mean, I'll be here, for Riley that night-"
He frowns, taking a step closer and looking straight down into your eyes.
"No," he says sharply, his features relaxing when your eyes widen. "I, um. She has, someone else to watch her that evening." He nods once, and you look up at him quizzically.
"Okay...?"
"Would you join me?" The words come out so fast you almost don't register them. "I mean, to the ball. Would you..." his fingers lightly take yours, his thumb tracing a small circle on the back of your hand.
"You. Want me. To go with you?"
He chuckles, his hand holding yours with ease. If only he knew the tidal wave rushing through your veins at this very moment-
"I do," he assures, bringing the back of your hand to his mouth to press a small kiss to it. "I'd be honored, if you would join me."
:* ā§ļ½„ļ¾:
Three days was not near long enough to get yourself in check.
By that, you were feeling so nervous -- no matter how many times you'd redone your makeup, or re-tied the laces on your gown -- you still stared at yourself in the mirror, barely believing the events that were to unfold tonight.
A soft knock on your door pulls you from your daze, the wood creaking as it slowly opens.
"Oh... wow," Eris sucks in a breath, coming to stand behind you as he gazes at you through the mirror. You continue to pick and fiddle with your gown, only halting when his hands rest on your waist.
"Y/N, you're beautiful," he muses, and you can't help but blush. Gazing at him through the reflection, you agree -- you were beautiful, the maroon fabric hugged you nicely and complimented the accents of his jacket to a tee.
"Thank you," you whisper, and he turns you to face him. A small smile creeps onto his lips as he takes you in before him. You can't help but grin back, as the man oogling you is quite handsome himself.
"Are you ready?" He asks, and you take a deep breath, glancing at yourself once more over your shoulder.
"I am," you hesitate. "I just... I hope your parents won't think less of you for bringing me tonight."
Eris huffs a laugh, his eyes meeting yours in the glass.
"Darling, I don't give a damn what my parents think. Especially my father."
You chew on your lip, his words not resonating with you like he hoped they would.
"I just... I'm not like you, I'm not... a High Fae," you sigh. "I'm nothing like Selene-"
"Good." His fingers prod at your chin, turning your head to face him directly once more.
"I'm glad you're nothing like her, Y/N." Your heart melts, his words finally hitting home.
"You're everything and more, love," you swear his lips are inching toward yours with every word he speaks.
"She could only wish to be half the woman you are."
:* ā§ļ½„ļ¾:
Living in the Autumn Court your entire life, you could've never imagined the royal balls were anything like this. Not even close.
Your gaze shifted from person to person, taking in everything from their elaborate attire to their pointed ears. Weaving through the crowd of people and lingering stares, the insecurity from earlier resurfaced as you glanced down at your rather plain dress.
"Eris," you hissed. He turned, leaning in close to speak with you. "Why didn't you tell me to get something more..." You struggled to find the word. "Ball-appropriate?"
His grin sent a shiver down your spine before his warm breath against your ear could.
"I think you look absolutely divine, Y/N."
Your cheeks heat again as he reaches for your hand, giving it a small squeeze before opening his mouth again.
"I need to make an appearance at the dais," he explains. "Will you be alright-"
"Yes. I'll wait here." You nod, not exactly as confident as you'd hoped in meeting his parents so soon. He kisses your cheek quickly, the brush of his lips a momentary relief against your flushed face before he makes way for the dais. His father tracks his movements, every step watched by those beady eyes.
You'd known the High Lord was, well... cruel, to put it plainly. He was unfair, and demanding, and took advantage of the power he held -- which is exactly why your stomach begins to turn as his focus lands right. On. You.
"Thank you all, for coming tonight." He bellows, standing to speak to the crowd in the throne room. Every head turns to face him, every eye focused on him as he scans the room. Eris stands confidently next to his father, with the Lady of Autumn politely standing on his other side.
He continues his short announcement, the music resuming as he finishes and demands it be so. As people begin moving and partnering off, your worry returns. Where was Eris? No longer beside his father, you look around you, not spotting that firey red head of hair anywhere among the crowd.
That is, until two large hands snake around your waist from behind, his familiar chuckle causing your breath to hitch.
"Share a dance with me?"
:* ā§ļ½„ļ¾:
Your hands tremble as Eris slowly guides you to the middle of the room, all the faelights dimming on the walls. People sidestep around you, moving out of your way as though Eris is parting the sea itself.
The soft melody from the string quartet begins, a song you'd surely heard before. None of it calmed your nerves, especially as you peered toward the dais. Sure enough; both of his parents were watching the two of you.
"Hey, don't get nervous on me now." Eris offers a small smile, and you gulp down your nerves. He places your left hand on his shoulder, taking the other one in his own. His free hand snakes around your waist, splaying flat on your back as he draws you closer to him.
"Just, follow me." He steps to the side, beginning to move in time with the song. You follow, trying to calm the shakiness of your hand in his while he presses you against him.
A few counts in, you relax a little. Sure, you weren't High Fae, or maybe someone his father would choose for him -- but Eris chose you. You're the one here with him tonight, dancing in front of his family and his court as though you came as a package deal.
When you look up at him, you blush realizing he had already been focused on you. He chuckles, his fingers tracing up and down on the small of your back as he twirls the two of you around the dancing floor.
"I'm really glad you came tonight," he says lowly, his amber-flecked gaze intense as you can't help but stare back.
"Me too," you say. "I've never attended anything like this before."
He raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face.
"Well, you're quite the talented dancer for never being brought to a ball before," he releases your waist, spinning you in a slow circle and then pulling you back to him once more. You grin, a small laugh escaping your lips as the two of you are held close once more.
"I shouldn't be surprised, as you've grown up going to these things," you say, your gaze landing on his lips. "But, you're quite impressive as well."
Those lips tilt upward as the song comes to an end, the two of you simply gazing at the other. You don't notice the clearing made for the two of you, how every other fae had allowed the two of you into the spotlight of the room. You'd simply been too caught up in the moment with the handsome man before you-
Eris sighs, and you watch as his gaze zeroes in on the dais once more. Turning, you peek as well -- the High Lord is beckoning his son at once.
"I can wait for you-"
"He wants us both." Eris shakes his head, the muscles in his arms tightening as he slowly lets go of you.
"Oh," is all you can think to say. He takes your hand, once again making way to his father's throne. This time, he leads you with him.
"Father." Is all he says when the two of you approach, and you watch as the High Lord so much as flicks his gaze to you before offerring his son an unamused look. Eris bends at the waist, and you follow suit, curtsying low as you offer your respect.
"Eris," his father echoes, his hands folding across his chest. "How uncourtly of you to not introduce your mother and I to your... guest, this evening." You look to the Lady of Autumn, offering a small bow of your head. She smiles at you softly -- the most reaction you'd seen from her all night.
"My apologies." Eris says, and you can practically hear the sarcastic remarks he was making in his mind. He turns to you, a smile sppearing on his face when you meet his gaze.
"This is Y/N, you've heard me mention her before," he explains. "She is the woman who helps so much with... with Riley," he hesitates. You'd known his parents were not involved much in his personal life, mainly because of his father and how he has treated his own son. You couldn't say you blamed him.
"Y/N," Beron repeats, his beady gaze focusing on you. He reaches to take your hand in his, kissing the back of it in polite greeting. You force a smile, but can feel Eris' jaw tightening from where he stood beside you. "How nice to finally meet you."
His words are dripping with venom, but you respond with class nonetheless. "Likewise, High Lord."
He releases your hand, resting his own on the armrests of his throne. He looks to Eris again, his gaze wavering between the two of you.
"So nice to see my son bring a woman to one of these kinds of events again -- he'd been alone in attendance, of course, since he let that Day Court whore slip through his fingers." Your eyes widen at his careless use of the derogatory language, but he simply chuckles. Eris' fingers find yours, sliding through them and squeezing gently. His father doesn't miss the action, and is quite unpleased by it.
"Even if it means bringing the help with him." He sneers a horrible smile, and you feel your face flush at the comment. Your throat tightens, making swallowing painful as you try and surpress the forming emotions threatening to spill out.
"Father, please-"
"Now now, son. It's been a few years since Selene fled, whether it be your --" he pauses in throught. "...annoying, nature, or maybe she simply didn't enjoy your company." Eris sucks in a breath, releasing it slowly as though he's practiced this a million times.
Nonetheless, Beron continues. "Reguardless, I think it's time you remarry -- don't you?" Your eyes widen, your gaze dropping to the floor. Remarry? Surely Eris wouldn't agree to that.
"Father, I'm perfectly happy with-"
"With, what? Being alone? Leaving that poor child without a mother?" His father tutts, his hands flexing against the golden armrests.
"Could we talk about this, later?" Eris grits out. Your heart sinks as you feel both of his parent's eyes on you. Looking to the Lady of Autumn, she only offers you a sorrow-filled expression.
"We shall do just that." Beron promises. "Now, go. Enjoy the rest of the ball." He grins wickedly as though he didn't just insult everyone standing before him.
Eris turns, guiding you down the stairs of the dais when you hear Beron's voice from behind you.
"Lovely to meet you, Y/N!"
You only manage a small nod as your foot steps onto the floor. Then, you take off in a beeline for the exit.
:* ā§ļ½„ļ¾:
Your chest is heaving as you shove through the heavy entry doors to the palace, the cool night air chilly against your heated skin. You brace against one of the marbled columns in the entryway, a few hot tears finally breaking free and falling down your cheeks. In seconds, the doors open again, a familiar voice ringing out behind you.
"Y/N, please don't take what he said to heart-"
"Don't," you growl, your shoulders shaking as your emotions continue to rattle through you. The soft footsteps of his boots sound behind you, his quiet approach made known as his hand rests against your back.
"Love, I promise he's always like this-"
"Like what? Horrible?" Your eyes narrow as you turn to face him, his saddened expression evident when he sees the wet streams down your face. He reaches out, brushing a stray tear away.
"Pretty much," he mumbles, his other hand rubbing soothingly against your back. You continue to sob, soft sounds coming from you as Eris pulls you close to his chest.
In minutes, you feel his hands pushing you lightly against a cushiony surface. You follow his lead, sitting as you rub the water from your eyes. The familiar feeling of silk touches your fingers, and Eris moves for just a moment before the room is filled with heat.
His bedroom. He'd winnowed the two of you out of there, and right into his room.
"Eris-" You stutter, avoiding his gaze shamefully as he moves to sit beside you on the bed. "Y-you have to get back, your parents-"
"My parents can fuck off for now." He says, his hands reaching for you and pulling you close to him. He guides you to lie next to him, your head resting against his chest while his fingers stroke through your hair.
It's silent for a while, the only sounds from the fire crackling in the hearth and a few occasional sniffles as you work to regain your composure. When anyone finally speaks, it's him.
"I'm not going to remarry." He says, another few silent beats following his admission. Your heart breaks further, any hope of what you'd had before with the male shattering. He hugs you closer to him, his hands bracing around your smaller frame.
"I mean, I'm not remarrying just because of my father." He clarifies. You wipe your eyes with the back o your hand, pushing up on a elbow to look directly into his eyes.
"Eris... it doesn't seem like much of a choice-"
"It is," he cuts in. "It is my choice. I'm so sick of my father choosing what I do, and when, and who with. I won't allow it any longer." He frowns, pulling you down to lay with him again. Your fingers begin to play with one of the seams on his jacket, as your mind clears.
"Is that... what I was? Tonight?" You ask weakly. "Just, a way of defiance, to your father?" Eris sighs, tilting your chin to look up into his eyes. Though your face is red and puffy, he offers you a small smile.
"Never, my dear -- I had the choice in bringing someone with me this evening. And, I chose you. I wanted you there with me." You feel a spark of hope in your chest, amidst everything else you'd been feeling. He's quiet, waiting as you collect your thoughts.
Another single tear slips free, trailing down your cheek as you inch closer to him. He pulls you in, his mouth mere inches from yours as your voice comes out in a whisper.
"I choose you, too, Eris."
:* ā§ļ½„ļ¾:
#Spotify#eris x reader#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris vandaddy#eris fanfic#eris x oc#acowar#a court of frost and starlight#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#acotar#acosf#acomaf#read more
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thinks about mr. fnaf cassie's dad for too long and gets really sad about him
#like!! he left his daughter at home with the promise to be back soon - he thought he'd just be goin into work like normal#but then he wound up trapped and had to leave his daughter totally alone for who knows how long#but he at least had the relief of thinking she was safe - only to wind up finding her having wandered into the plex and being trapped too#and she's RIGHT THERE but she doesn't know it's him and he can't talk to her or tell her he's sorry for leaving her#and he can't do much of anything at all to save her. it's unclear how much control he has over the map bot his mind is uploaded into#all he can do is just... give her a technician's mask and hope that his little girl is strong enough to find her way back home with it#while he just stays stuck there. alone in the dark. watching her go.#UGH!!!!
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Lost.
Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader
Summary: the reader accompanies her brother and Cregan to the Wall to discuss an alliance. But the news of Luke's death causes turmoil among them.
Warnings: Blood, cursing, grief, death, miscarriage, Cregan fucking crying
A/n: based on this ask!
Masterlist
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She had to practically beg him.
"No. No, and you need to drop it," he said as he began to lace up his boots.
She whined and pulled herself from the bed, her hair a mess and still only in her shift, "Cregan."
Cregan let out a soft growl, "You dragons just don't see reason, do you?"
She smiled and neared him. Her hands rested over his, keeping him from lacing his boots. "I want time with my brother again. Is that so terrible?"
"It's a two week trip to the Wall."
"That's at least a month with him." She gripped his hands tighter, "Please, Cregan."
He sighed, "The prince will have plenty of time with you before and after. I won't have my wife and unborn child far from the maesters." He let out a forced laugh, "Or near the men of the Wall, for another matter."
"There are maesters there, Cregan. And we all know I am safest with you."
He stared at their connected hands for a while, a million thoughts ringing loudly in his head, but all unvoiced.Ā
"We still have a few months until the birth," she continued to reason. "And you know I grow cold at night when you're gone."
Cregan smiled up at her. He pulled his hand from hers to rest over her small swollen stomach.Ā
As much as he wanted to lock her away from the threats of the world, he knew doing so would hurt her more than letting her go.
He chewed at his lip. "If I let you," he began, "You will take no chances. On anything."
"None," She agreed. "Nothing at all." Her hand joined his on her stomach. "I'll stay by your side. I promise."
"Alright."Ā
ā¦
"Ready to go?" Jace smiled as his sister neared.Ā
She grinned back as she took his arm, "I've been ready since I heard you were arriving, brother."
He chuckled lightly as the two began to walk to the stable, "Must I say, you practically glow like the sun nowadays."
She huffed, "Do not lie."
"I don't," he said. "There is more color to you."
"That is only the cold nipping at me and coloring my cheeks."
He laughed again, "Maybe so. But either way, You are a natural, my dear sister. A healthy boy is on the way, I know it."
"A boy?" She asked with raised brows. "Oh no, Cregan and I think it's a girl."
He hummed in thought, "No. It's not. I know these things."
She laughed and playfully hit his arm, "You know nothing of this!"
He grinned and shrugged, "All the same. You'd raise a wonderful boy-"
"-Or girl."
"-or girl. Either way, I shall be a very proud uncle."
"Oh, you must wed Baela soon brother, please."
"So eager?" He asked with a smile.
"Our children would be such wonderful friends." Her eyes lit up and she squeezed his arm, "Or such a beautiful betrothal! Think of it!"
Jace look away in thought, "Perhaps so. I hadn't considered that."
"Only," she began again. "I shall pray your boy does not inherit your unruly curls!"Ā
"Ah, you're the one having a boy first. I said so."
"Oh. So, you wish to have a girl, brother?"
He bit his lip, "If the gods wish it, then yes."
"You'd be wonderful to a daughter, Jace."
His brows furrowed, "Let us focus on the baby at hand, please. And get you to the stables before Cregan has my head."
ā¦
Cregan helped her into the lift at the bottom of the wall, pulling her to him to make room for Jace.Ā
"I sent a letter to mother before we left," Jace began. "About the child. Luke, Joffrey, and I will choose a dragon egg and send it to you upon my return home."
Her eyes lit up, "Thank you. That wasā¦ That was very thoughtful."
Jace looked up to Cregan, who looked at Jace as if he was going to explode any second.Ā
A dragon? In Winterfell? Around his child?Ā
But he said nothing.Ā
"Do have Luke pick it." She finally said. "He has the best taste in such things."
Jace laughed lightly, "I will. But I will not tell him you said so. I can't have him getting prideful."
A silence fell over them as the lift brought them further and further up the wall.
"So, what is this that falls from the sky and shivers my bones?" Jace asked.
"This is only a late summer snow, my prince." Cregan finally spoke, "In winter, it will cover all you see."
"It's quite beautiful, Jace." She smiled, "If you have a warm cloak, that is."
ā¦
Cregan and Jace walked together along the ice halls of the Wall, the Lady Stark behind, making her rounds around the men at work, thanking them, and chatting as she moved.Ā
"Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince." Cregan began, "But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between north and south. In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to king's landing. I need my men here."Ā
He looked behind him to his wife, who was in an intense conversation meters back, a hand resting on her stomach as she nodded along with the man that spoke.
"While your men guard against wildings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne."Ā
The two began to walk up to the outlook, Jace continued, "If my mother is to defend her claim to hold the realm united, she needs an army. War is coming to the whole of the realm, my lord." He looked out over the wall. "We cannot wage it without the support of the North."
Silence filled the air, save for the sound of the wind blowing loudly.Ā
"Do you think my ancestors built a 700-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?"
"What does it keep out."
"Death."
A man approached the two, "My lord, a raven's arrived. Urgent news from Dragonstone."
Y/n's head perked up, and she immediately excused herself from her conversation to go to her husband.
Cregan unraveled the note, his eyes flitting across the paper hurriedly, and a furrowing in his brows formed.
She moved to Jace and his arm wrapped around her side, pulling her to him. "Cregan," she said. "Is everything alright?"
He looked up at the two Velaryons.
Then held the paper out to Jace.
Cregan then reached out and took his wife from the man, having a new sense of needing her near him.
When Jace read the note and his hand covered his mouth, she became worried, "Jace?"
He didn't answer, but Cregan's grip on her tightened and one hand rested protectively over her swollen belly.
"Jace. Please."
"It's alright," Cregan whispered into her ear, "We're alright." He looked up to Jace, a silent plea to keep calm in front of her.
Jace's jaw clenched, but he forced himself to smile with gritted teeth, "Just a slight hiccup, dear sister."
He gripped the note with an iron grip, not caring of the tears or crinkles it could bring.
He shook his head and began to storm off.
"Jaceā¦" "-It's fine!" He shouted. "Everything is just fine."
He stormed off before she could get it out of him.
She turned around in Cregan's grip, "My love. Please tell me what has happened."
He shook his head and brushed a piece of hair from her face, "No. You needn't worry about these things. It's bad for the babe."
"Cregan-"
āPlease do not ask me to bring you torment, my girl,ā Cregan said with a tilt of his head.
āCregan, you torment me by keeping me in the shadows.ā
āTrust me when I say, I am not.ā
She pulled herself from his hands, āNo. You do. Now, tell me.ā
Creganās jaw tightened and his voice became stronger, āI wonāt.ā
āSpeak the words, Cregan.ā
He stared back.
āSay it.ā
Silence.
Her voice grew desperate, āSay it.ā
He simply stared, a slight tilt to his head.
āIf you love me as your wife, youāll not keep this from me.ā
He immediately took a step and his voice lowered, āDo not use such words-ā
She growled, āthen fucking say it.ā
He took steps to her, their faces not far, āYou wonāt hear it from me.ā
āThen I will find it elsewhere," she sneered in his face.
She stormed off, Cregan left to stare over the wall.
He wanted to chase after her. Stop her and correct it all. But he just couldnāt.
This news changed everything.
ā¦
She opened the door, finding Jace in the midst of a fit of rage, throwing his cup against the wall.
āJace?ā
He looked up at her, forcing himself to calm. She moved to him and held her arms out.
And he collapsed against her, weeping into her neck.
āJace. Jace, itās alright.ā She cooed lightly to him.
āHeās gone. Heās gone and I wasnāt there.ā
Gone? Who?Ā
Her mind began to race and her heart dropped.
Surely not Daemon. Jace wouldnāt weep as if his world crumbled.
Gods, Jace hadnāt wept at all since the day Ser Harwin died.
āJace. Look at me.ā
She pulled his face to look at him, āWhat happened?ā
āI promise you, Iāll kill them all. I will.ā
āCalm yourself, dear brother.ā
āCALM MYSELF?ā He roared and pulled back from her. āOur brother is dead and you tell me to calm myself?ā
Hot tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffled lightly.Ā
A hand shot to her stomach.
āLuke?ā
Jace brows immediately relaxed, āgods, you didnātā¦ Stark didnātā¦ā
āLuke is dead?ā She whispered as a shaky hand covered her mouth.
āI didnāt mean toā¦ please, come here.ā
The two siblings embraced, Jace holding her tightly against him and brushing through her hair as she began to wail against him.
Her hands clutched at his cloak and it quickly became wet with her tears.
Cregan threw the door open and his entire body stiffened at the sight.
She turned her head against Jaceās chest. She spoke through broken hiccups, āLukeā¦ā
Creganās eyes softened as he saw her puffy eyes, āI know.ā
Jace tightened his hold, āAemond hunted him down on his dragon.ā
Cregan watched her eyes completely glaze over and her breath quickened.
She let out a low groan.
āSister? Sister, please.ā
She pulled away and a hand quickly moved to her stomach, her brows furrowed.
āCreganā¦ā
āFuckā¦ā Cregan immediately moved to her and pulled her into his arms. āMy love, please steady yourself.ā
A few more tears slipped from her eyes, āIt hurts, Cregan.ā
No.
No. No. No.
He gripped her biceps in an iron grip, āNo. No, youāre alright.ā
She shook her head, āNo. Iām not.ā She gritted her teeth and her eyes closed. āIām not. Please.ā
āMy girl.ā He cooed, āLet us sit you down.ā
She gasped at a sudden feeling.
āSisterā¦ā Jace took a step towards her.
āPlease," She begged and held a hand out, stopping him. āIā¦ā
A low and pained groan and her knees buckled.
Cregan caught her with ease, holding her up. āMy prince. Bring me that chair.ā
Jace moved immediately, pulling a wooden chair across the floor with a loud scrape.
Cregan lowered her into the chair, cringing at the whimper that left his wifeās mouth.
āPerhaps a maesterā¦?ā Jace asked.
āNo-ā
ā-Yes,ā Cregan nodded. āYes. Please.ā
āCregan,ā she cried. āI canāt. I canāt lose her-ā
ā-if we do not fetch the maester, then she will be.ā Creganās eyes were set, as if challenging her to fight him on it.
āFine. Fine, please.ā
Jace quickly left in practically a sprint.
āItās not your fault, you know.ā
She turned to the Stark, āWhat?ā
He looked like he was ready to cry. His bottom lip quivered, āif you do lose her.ā
Her eyes saddened and her hand moved to his face, āI canāt.ā
āYou will, my love.ā He forced a deep breath to hold back the tears and let out a breath, āShe is gone now, Iām sure of it.ā
If she wasnāt in pain enough, that multiplied it.
ā¦
Four hours later, Jace and Cregan sat in the opposite end on the room, watching the maester work endlessly.
But they were silent. Their eyes were both fixed on the blood that stained everything.
She had fallen asleep long ago, from the pain or loss of blood, they werenāt sure.
But it gave their ears a break from her piercing cries that rang through the entirety of the Wall.
When the maester moved to the two men, they stood.
āMy lord, my prince,ā he began. āThe Lady has lost much blood.ā
āWill she live?ā Cregan immediately asked.
āIā¦ā he bit his lip. āShe will, my lord, butā¦ā
āThat is all I need. You may go.ā
āLord Stark-ā
āGO!ā He growled.
The maester bowed his head and quickly left, pulling the door behind him.
Silence filled the room. Both men still stared at the poor woman who slept away the pain.
ā¦
Jace had left not long after, wandering the halls of Castle Black in thought, so it was only Cregan in the room when she woke.
She let out a low groan, and he held her hand in his. "Lovely, how are you feeling?"
Her eyes studied him before a light sob racked through her.
He lightly kissed her knuckles, knowing that was the only comfort he could bring to her at the moment.
"I told you it wasn't your fault."
"But Iā¦" She hiccuped and wiped her face with her free hand, "I pushed for you to tell me. Iā¦ I forced you to let me accompany you here."
"You did not do any of that," he reprimanded. "None of it."
Her eyes held a hollowed look to them, "I lost the future of Winterfell."
Her brows furrowed and his hand smoothed the hair from her forehead.
"A boy," she sniffled. "Would've been."
He felt a punch to his gut.
He'd seen battle before, but nothing caused him as much pain as this moment.Ā
He looked down at their intertwined hands, "It does not mean that all is lost, my girl."
"Then why does it feel like it?"
His eyes watered, and his nose scrunched in frustration. He wanted to curse as his bottom lip trembled for the second time today, "I don't know."
A single tear ran down the Wolf's face.
"But I promise you," He sniffled. Another tear down his face as he let out a soft breath, "You have not lost me."
"I couldn't give you an heir."
"And I do not know how to comfort you through it."
She pushed herself up and he shook his head, "No, you need to rest."
But she managed to sit herself up against the headrest.
Her hand brushed his cheek and he couldn't stop the tears that began to rush down his face.
"Oh, Cregan," she cooed.
His hand brought her other one up to his lips again, kissing her knuckles fervently this time, as if she would disappear if he didn't.
"Hey. Stop," she tilted her head. "Cregan. Stop."
His eyes looked to her through a blurry haze.
"It's not your fault either, you know." She finally said.
He forced a laugh and shook his head. "I fear I'd go mad without you, my girl."
"As I with you."
The two managed to catch their breath in the silence that followed, a promise that things would get better if they only let it.
He leaned forward to her, gently connecting their lips.Ā
She let out a whine, accepting his kiss eagerly.Ā
His hand moved to the back of her head, pulling her to him. He hardly cared about the salty taste of the tears on their lips.
He pulled away first.
"I'll promise our graybeards to the queen," Cregan stated as he sat back down.
She huffed, "Don't pity me and feel as if you must defend-"
His grip tightened on her hand, "I will have the head of that boy on a fucking spike." Cregan growled.
"He did not lose our child, I did!" She said with a raised voice.
His jaw clenched as his eyes bore into hers, "Aemond Targaryen lost the war the second he chased your brother with Vhagar. The graybeards will march when the time is right. In exchange for Aemond's head by the time the war is done."
"Cregan-"
"-He is why our son is dead. And the North will remember that."
She looked down to her stomach, rubbing a hand over what used to be there only hours before.
Cregan Stark's gaze became more rigid than the ice around them.Ā
"Winter is coming for the Greens."
.........................................................
A/n: Okay, hey, now that you're depressed from this fic, let's talk. I'm making a Cregan Stark tag list! Let me know if you want on it!
#cregan stark x you#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#creagan stark#cregan stark#cregan stark x y/n#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon#house targaryen#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon imagine
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warning: postpartum depression requested by multiple: mama's family
"Where's my baby?!"
You can practically hear your teeth grinding together as you give your aunt a tight lipped smile. "He's due to get up any minute." She sighs, like it's an inconvenience, your mom hot on her heels.
"Hi honey," she says, glancing around your now pristine flat, "how are things?"
"Oh, fine." It's the same thing you've been saying this whole time. I'm fine. I'm good. Everything is great. "Went to the pediatrician the other day, Ry is perfect and healthy." You omit the rest of your news, the sudden reappearance of Simon, the stable, consistent presence in your life, the man who was supporting you in anyway he could.
Even though you absolutely do not want your mom or your aunt to meet him, let alone know about him-
you still kind of wish he was here.
He told you yesterday, regretfully, that he had meetings on base all day today, and you told him your mom and aunt were coming by, but probably wouldn't stay long. It was good, that he wouldn't be around.
Before he left for the night, he made you promise to call if you needed him. Text him to check in. You did as he asked, but didn't hear much. Not a surprise, since he said he wouldn't have a lot of time to respond, but still wanted updates.
"That's great honey." Her smile is genuine, and you know she means it. She does mean well, mostly. It's not her fault you're bad at asking for help, or that since you left home, you've become stubbornly independent. You even spent a few years "gallivanting across the globe" as your sister liked to say, shirking responsibility after uni.
Your family was used to you being a bit of a ghost.
"- don't you think?" Your aunt's voice brings you back to earth, and you nod robotically, unsure of what you're agreeing to. You're about to apologize for missing the conversation when the baby monitor on the kitchen counter lights up, Orion's fussy 'I just woke up mom, come get me' cry crackling from the speaker.
"That's for me." You joke half heartedly with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. You know the battle with ensue as soon as you come back into the living room with the baby, and you dread it.
"Hi baby." You bend at the waist, scooping him out of his crib. "You're gettin' too heavy for mama, big boy. Don't know what I'm gonna do when you're older." The thought stops you in your tracks, the acknowledgement that he'll get older, that soon he'll be six months, and then a year, two. He'll learn to crawl, to walk, to speak. It's exciting, and anxiety inducing. What if you mess him up? What if you don't give him a good life? What if you're not a good mom, or he gets sick, or there's an accident, or an attack or-
No. You're not going to do this. You're not going to fall into these obsessive what ifs. It will only make you sick to your stomach.
You get him into a new nappy and clothes before slinking back into the living room, cowed with your head down. His head turns against your chest, seeking, and you know he's starting to realize he's hungry.
But the vultures don't care.
"Bring that boy over here, let me hold him." Your aunt croons, syrupy sick voice conjuring a roar of nausea.
"He's probably hungry." You start to warn them that this won't last long as you lower him into her arms, but you know it will fall on deaf ears. "So-"
"Just get a bottle from the fridge dear, I can feed him no problem." You fight the urge to to snap at her, unreasonable rage swelling inside your heart. No one feeds him except you, and Simon. Bottles are fine when you're asleep and can't nurse, or between feedings, but he doesn't eat as much from them. Of course, you've tried to tell them that, multiple times, but it never seems to stick. Your mom knows, but she never stands up to her older sister.
Like mother like daughter, you guess. You've never been a doormat per se, but you don't have a strongest backbone, and becoming a mom has changed you, a lot. You've become even more soft, more sensitive. It's... a problem.
"How are you feeling, honey?" You know she's asking mostly about your body, your stitches, your physical aches and pains, which were plenty considering what you went through when Ry was born, but your mom's voice is gentle, like she senses you frustration, and you give her a weak smile. It's nice she's expressing interest, but that's usually as far as it goes, unless you count the meals she's brought over that you barely picked it, not having enough energy to even feed yourself, or shower, or the suggestion that you give her the baby all the time so you could 'take a break' even though he screamed the moment he was separated from you. Not helpful. Nobody cared that you had scary thoughts, scary moments, scary days. Nobody offered to be here at night with you, when you were all alone with the baby after dark, terrified, crying in the bathroom with your face buried in a towel so you wouldn't wake him. No one was here when you were afraid you might hurt him, or yourself, and no one seemed to hear you when you shrugged over and over again, your lack of interest in everything explicitly clear.
You sucked at asking for help, so you didn't. And when you did, you never got it right, or got the right answers, so you stopped asking. Everything became fine. Good.
"Fine, good." She opens her mouth to say something, ask some question, probably about Ry, when your blood goes cold.
The sound of your front door opening rings out like a bang, your eyes widening in panic, and you nearly run to the kitchen.
Oh fuck. Oh no, no no no-
You turn in slow motion to see your baby's daddy, the man who has a key now, stepping through the doorway. As soon as you lay eyes on him, you split down the middle. You're horrified, because of what's about to happen with the two hens on the couch and-
your libido roars to life. Simon's not wearing his usual jeans or joggers and black hoodie, but a camouflage military uniform. One that he fills out, broad shoulders and broad chest fitted snug inside the material. You think you're staring. Or drooling. Or both.
His lips quirk up on one side with a secretive, almost seductive smile, and he peeks over your shoulder before turning his attention back to you. "Hey mama."
"H-hey. Uh. Hi." Your hands uselessly flit around, like you're trying to swat some invisible bugs away or something. "My mom is still here. And my aunt," you can't help yourself, you take him in from head to toe one more time, "you look... nice."
"Price makes me wear my BDU for on base meetings." He grunts, slightly exasperated. Who?
"BDU?"
"Battle dress uniform. It's... the approved, standard uniform. I don't wear it... in the field." His lips press together, and your mind wanders, curious questions about 'the field' popping up like fireworks, but you push them away. Now is definitely not the right time. His thumb brushes your cheek, under your eye, and he frowns. "Everything alright?"
You step to the side, motioning to the living room, where your aunt and mother are whispering fiercely. You roll your shoulders, and take a deep breath. "Do you... want to, say hi?" The question is weak, your voice small. His brow furrows. He looks hesitant, and you don't blame him. They're a lot. It's a lot. He glances down at you again, head tilted in consideration. "Or you could just go. If you ran out that door... well I'd only wish I could come with you." You whisper, and he cracks a smile.
"No. 'm not runnin' from any part of you, sweetheart. C'mon. They can't be worse than..." he trails off, odd look in his eyes before it clears, "they can't be worse than a lot of things."
He follows you around the corner of the kitchen, crossing the threshold of the living room with two large strides.
Your mother gasps. Your aunt makes a sound that you can only describe as a goose being strangled, and Orion starts to cry. Perfect.
"Oh, oh shhh, shhhh." Your aunt tries to soothe him, but you know it won't work.
"Mom," you call over the noise, gesturing to the giant man standing next to your coffee table, and you, "Mom! This is Simon." She stares at you, confused, shocked even. You never told her your one night stand's name, just that you couldn't track him down, so she doesn't make the connection.
Still, she gapes at him. Clears her throat with a question.
"Is this... your boyfriend honey?" Your aunt's expression is not much different, and you freeze. Is he? Is that what this is? You half expect Simon to reject the term boyfriend flat out, but instead-
"Something like that." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, and you lean into it, relishing the comfort. Just the presence of him in the flat is enough to soothe you, lessen the tension you feel building in your chest. "Sounds like he's hungry, mama."
"Yeah, I think he's more than ready." You reach for Ry, eager to pick him up, but your aunt shifts her body, shying away, turning her shoulder to you. You're used to this, the keep away, the way they always try to convince you he'll calm down, to let them hold him for too long, to get him a bottle... but Simon is not.
He goes rigid at your side. You can feel the muscle in his arm turn to stone, and his eyes narrow, upper lip curling. Your mother's eyes go wide, but your aunt remains oblivious. "I can feed him, dear. Go get a bottle warmed up and-"
"No." Simon snaps, rough pitch of his voice dipping deeper into the manc accent, and she bristles. This bitch wouldn't be scared of the devil himself.
"Excuse me?" You watch the muscle in his jaw flex with fascination, wondering what he'll do next. You're brought back to when you met, when he stared down the guy who pushed you out of the way at the bar like he was going to murder him, before calling you over to settle next to his thigh. He put his hand on your waist, shielded you from everyone else for the rest of the night.
You were a goner before you ever had a chance to begin.
"Orion wants his mother. You can hand him over without a fuss, or I can throw you out of this flat. Your choice." His words are hard, cold steel, a sharp knife slicing away, exposing vulnerable parts and smashing them to pieces.
Your aunt has the gall to look scandalized, but when you glance at your mother, she has a different expression. It's warm. Approving. She mets your eyes with a small smile as you scoop Orion up, and then she stands.
"We'll get out of your hair, honey." She tugs you into a half hug before looking over. "Nice to meet you Simon." Your aunt is ranting and raving all the way to your front door, but once it's shut...
"Bloody hell." He mutters, and shakes his head. "I won't let anyone push you 'round like that, sweetheart. Family or not. Especially not in your own home, I-"
"Thank you." It's all you can say. "I um, kind of suck at sticking up for myself, sometimes. It means a lot, that you would do that. For me." He steps close, hand covering Orion's belly and chest, even though he's still crying.
"Kitten doesn't have any claws," he murmurs against your ear, and your eyebrows knit together. Uh... what? "Don't worry, you won't need 'em. Not now that you have me." There's something dangerous in his tone, something lethal and profound. Itās as fervid as his proclamation about his commitment to you, to Orion. Like dark water, bottomless and black, it draws you out deeper, sends shivers up your spine, but doesn't turn you away. It makes you curious, intrigued, desperate to peel back his layers, to dig into him until you know it all, inside and out.
Curiosity killed the cat, isnāt that what they say?
You weren't afraid of him that night, and you're not afraid now. You know Simon is not an ordinary man. You know you've bitten off a lot, by having his baby, rekindling this connection, giving him a key-
but you plan to chew.
#peaches writes#through me (the flood)#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#have you ever wanted someone to defend you to a shitty family member?#then this is for you
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Omg i love your Yandere serial killer with a split persona so much šš, can you do more headcanon about him?? Like does he aware of his other persona seeing reader kinda scared to talk to him normally thank u
Yandere! Serial Killer Scenarios
Featuring the kind, quiet man who has no idea why you look at him with terror in your eyes. This time with an official character design!
Content: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror, dubious/non-consent
[Main Story] | [More original works]
You only attempted to escape once.
His frequent warnings had begun to wear off, and your mind dared to wander towards hope. One day, during his evening walk, you ran to your bedroom and pulled out a train ticket you'd hidden earlier inside a drawer. The small piece of paper weighed heavy in your hand. Come, now, you scolded yourself. It was weeks of careful planning: anticipating his schedule, erasing your tracks, preparing the essentials. You could already smell the worn leather seats, and hear the jarring whistle of departure. Then you'd be far away from this maniac, all but a terrible memory to be locked away.
There was no time for hesitation. You grabbed a small bag and sped towards the station, frequently looking over your shoulder, muttering silent prayers. Once you made it to your compartment, you exhaled in relief. A relief you hadn't felt in months, washing over your body and relaxing your tense muscles. You climbed the stairs, and searched for your seat. Has someone misread their ticket? You found your spot occupied by a stranger.
"What did I tell you about running away?" his deep voice echoed across the empty hall.
The walk back home was silent. You were convinced this was your end. You'd arrive at the house, and he'd cut you into pieces. Your lips curled in a horrified grimace, mind flooded with foreign feelings: your nails plucked apart with pliers, a burning sting after each detachment. The roots of your teeth grinding and screeching within the bone of your jaw, until all that's left is a fleshy, gaping wound. Plop, plop, as each little souvenir falls into the jar.
He slammed the door shut and stared you down. You looked at the floor, but all you could see were the grimy ID cards of all the women who never made it out of this damned house. You were next.
His large hand ruffled your hair, and you glanced up in disbelief.
"This stays between us. Mother better not hear that her soon-to-be daughter in law tried to run away. Especially now that she's warmed up to you. Are we clear?"
You nodded desperately. God, how pathetic of you. But being trapped was better than rotting underground like the rest of them. You just wanted to live.
You can always tell whether it's him, or him. It's the silence. Or lack of, for that matter. He likes the quietness, the muffled ticking of the clock, the busy rattling in the kitchen, your laughs, your chatter. You'll sit together and listen to the rain, or read your books across from each other. There's no need for words, you know you can be at peace.
He likes music. When you hear the record player, you know it's your cue to perform. You exit your room - it's better if he doesn't call you down himself - and descend to the main area. The stairs creak louder, the wallpaper begins to yellow. It's almost as if the house ages with the music, and you tumble back in time.
He's been waiting for you, naturally. How's a man meant to spend his evenings, if not with his adored wife? He'll reach out for your hand, and invite you to a slow dance. Those are the worst moments. The tight, suffocating hold, his deranged stare drilling into your very soul, the whispered promises: that you're forever his, and you'll never find happiness anywhere else. He knows it. It's the same for him, really. Everything he's ever needed lies within your embrace.
Some days, the charade doesn't last long. You simply won't be in the mood to be kissed, to be stripped naked and fondled by his murderous hands. So you'll just pout and gaze ahead. It angers him terribly.
"Wretched whore. Do I look like a beggar?"
He'll shove you aside and make his way out, taking his tools with him. He hates asking for your affection and would rather take his anger out somewhere else. You know he won't hurt you, or force himself on you, which means someone else will have to pay for your disrespect. And yet, it's the only freedom you have around him - the privilege of refusing him and living to see the next day. The rest aren't as lucky. You'd rather not think too deeply about it.
My honey, I know With the dawn that you will be gone But tonight, you belong to me Just to little old me.
What a bizarre thing, to harbor such hatred towards the one you love. You've never met anyone kinder. He's thoughtful, patient, caring. He knows everything about you and lives to serve you. He's your best friend and your lover. He's the one you want to marry one day. But he's also...well...him. And you can't have one without the other.
"No, Mother, it isn't tacky," he barks at the shattered mirror, adjusting your necklace. "And you know what? It's up to (Y/N) to decide if she wants to wear your wedding jewelry."
"It's nice", you respond curtly. You look into the empty reflection and nod. He likes it when you take his side in front of Mother.
"I knew you'd agree. We're a match made in Heaven, aren't we?" he smiles and zips up the old dress. You shiver: wearing a dead woman's gown was not part of your wedding plans. The corset is tightened, and you gasp. His hands are tense.
"I know he proposed to you. And what a stupid grin you had on your face when it happened! You never act like that around me."
He doesn't call me a bitch, for starters, you think to yourself. You shuffle on the bed, trying to loosen up the garment, but he swiftly pins you down onto the mattress.
"Not that it matters. Would you like to know why?" he inquires with a familiar glimmer of jealousy in his dilated pupils. "Because I'll always be your first. You know it, I know it. He never will.
At the end of the day, you belong to me."
To compete with oneself. Nonsense. Utter madness, all of it. The house; the drawer filled with gory trophies; the nightly talks with Mother dearest, whose bones have most likely turned to dust by now; the bloodied scalpels; the embrace of a man who fills you with warmth and terror.
You're part of it now.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere serial killer#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere male#yandere male x reader#yandere art#doodle#my art#horror#obsessive love
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-"How old is she?" RAFE CAMERON X READER
(open requests)
part 2!
paring: rafe cameron x reader
warning: none
summary: you and rafe were friends since birth, you two fell in love but he cheated on you and you went away and never went to outer banks but your mother died and you went to her funeral but you didn't knew rafe and his family would be there.
Going back to Outer Banks was not a good idea and i knew it, but with my mother's death I knew I had to go, my father was in pieces so was I. I look at my one year old daughter sleeping in the back of my car, "I hope I don't see him" i think.
Me and Rafe were childhood friends since ever and 4 years ago when we started dating I knew he was the love of my life, but I was wrong, I can still remember Sofia kissing him and he hugging her:
1 year ago I was going to tell him about the pregnancy but when I saw them my heart broke and I just left Outer Banks without looking back. Had Charlotte in New York, my parents knew but I made them promise to don't talk about her to anyone.
I was not alone, I had friends in New York, I had a job at my dad's company, but the most important thing I had Charlotte. She is just like him, her strong blue eyes, her blonde hair just as soft as his, she had a strong personality just like him, it was his copy, my little chunk of my love with him.
When I got home, everything looked the same, nothing had ever changed. My father wasn't home and I soon went into my old room, I saw polaroids of Rafe and me on the wall, the presents he had given me, it looked like I had never left, everything was clean and the bed was as messy as the day I decided to leave the city behind with a baby.
Charlotte looked at the room with precision for a 1 year old baby, this year on her first birthday we came here at night to have dinner with my parents and we left early in the morning so there was no risk of Rafe knowing I had been there.
"Mama" She pointed to a teddy bear that I had gotten from Rafe on our second anniversary. I gave the bear to her, watching her reaction. My little girl hugged the bear and started laughing.
"How are you so cute" I started tickling her belly, her laughter filled the room with joy.
"Here are my girls" I looked back and my dad was leaning against the door frame with a smile despite his tired looking eyes.
"Bubu" she ran towards him and hugged his leg tightly, my father picked her up with a sad smile on his face "Hello my love" he said to her.
"The burial will be tomorrow morning" he said with a soft voice.
I nodded in agreement and we soon went to dinner.
In my dream, Rafe laughed with me in my room, "If we have a daughter, her name will be Charlotte." He said looking at my eyes
"Why that name?"
"I don't know, love, I just like it." And he hugged me softly.
I woke up confused with my daughter in the crib next to me.
The route to the funeral was silent, I just thought about how I wished my mother was here. She was very sick and cancer took her from us, my father said that at least he had ended her suffering and pain during those years.
I got out of the car with Charlotte and her teddy bear by my side, her dress was black with a big bow on her side and I was with the same dress. There were few people at the funeral but since my mother was a pogue there were many of her pogue friends and I saw John B's group right at the top of the stairs JJ looked at me and smiled. The day was beautiful but it seemed unfair because my mother had died but I knew that the weather was a message from her telling me that she was okay.
My father picked Charlotte up and they went in first and I was just working up the courage to go in while praying not to see him. The crowd had already left and I started to enter the house near the beach where my mother's funeral would be.
Until someone bumped into me, I knew that scent but I didn't want to believe it, there it was. Rafe was wearing a black suit, his eyes got bigger when he saw me and he seemed to want to say something but he couldn't, he was in complete shock to see me after 1 year without news.
"Um-oh hi-" he was interrupted by my daughter screaming mommy when she saw me, Charlotte asked to be held by me and I picked her up. Rafe looked at her holding the teddy bear with confusion, his head turned to the side and so did my daughter's, they looked at each other as if in a mirror.
"Mama" my daughter tried to go to rafe's lap who was in complete shock.
"Charlotte no baby you can't" when he heard his name rafe he felt like he was going to faint
"Charlotte? wh-who is this?"
I had thought about this conversation for a long time but nothing came out of my mouth, I always thought that I could call Rafe and tell him everything and we could become a happy family like we dreamed of but I couldn't say anything.
"Rafe, c'mon your sister is asking about you-oh hi" There she was, Sofia look at me with disgust and confusion, but when she saw the baby in my arms she just looked at Rafe looking for some answer as to who that was.
"How old is she?" Rafe asked with a weak voice and tears in his eyes, I could tell he knew the answer but wanted to hear it from me. Before I could answer, my father appeared in the hall and understood what was happening.
"Where were you, let's go is going to start" My father grabbed my hand and took me while I was in complete shock and Charlotte was crying wanting to go to Rafe's arms.
I just walked away and left a confused Rafe with his eyes closed as if he was holding himself back from crying.
"Fuck" was the only thing that crossed my mind.
part 2? I had this idea on the subway on the way to school and i had to write it! let me know if you guys want pt 2š
#rafe obx#rafe cameron#random blurbs#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#jj maybank x you#outer banks#one shot#fanfic#blurb#rafe cameron blurb#love#sarah cameron#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj mayback imagine
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"Daddy! Why are you sad?"
Satoru chuckles, ruffling his daughter's hair affectionately, scooping her up in his large hands and situating her on his lap.
"Aw...is my pumpkin concerned for Daddy? Don't worry kiddo, Daddy isn't sad- just..." he paused, thinking of the right word. "tired."
Your daughter pouts, cerulean eyes peering up to gaze into her father's. "You should buy a pony Daddy! That way you won't be sad!"
Satoru laughs in surprise. "A pony, huh? Maybe I will...but I don't think Mommy will let us."
"Mommy won't let you do what?" you say, coming up from behind the couch and lean over the back to see the situation, eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Satoru, what propaganda are you teaching our child?"
"Daddy said you wouldn't let us buy a pony!" your daughter chirps and you stare at him incredulously.
"Absolutely not."
"But Mommy!"
"No!"
"C'mon sweetheart-"
"Stop enabling her!"
If he could, Satoru would have that memory tattooed to the inside of his brain, memorizing the way you laughed, your daughter's giddy face, the fuzzy domestic feeling in his heart, everything. If he could, Satoru would do anything in his power to feel that feeling again.
But he couldn't.
Because yet again, Satoru Gojo experiences one of the feelings he thought he left behind, all those years ago.
Grief.
It was during the war, when Satoru comes home late from a battle, only to find you lying on the cold tiled floor, in a pool of your own blood. In your arms, your 6 year old daughter, unconscious with a serious head injury.
A curse had come into your home in the middle on the night, and attacked you while he was gone. And Satoru wasn't there to protect you.
You didn't survive the encounter. You had lost far too much blood for the doctors to nurse you back to health, and your body was damaged beyond repair.
Your daughter was spared however. She was able to be nursed back to health, but her severe head injury gave her severe and permanent amnesia. She had no idea who you or Satoru was.
His own daughter- justā¦gone.
After that, Satoru just...broke.
He quit his teaching job at Jujutsu High, and left jujutsu society without a trace.
Satoru wasn't a stranger to hiding his true emotions, always masking any negative feelings behind the mask he'd worn for so many years.
But when you died, Satoru had died with you.
The Satoru Gojo of the physical world was nothing more than a hollow body with an empty heart, pain caused it to wither into nothing, as if it was never there.
"Why are you sad Daddy?" He could almost hear her say.
He's tired, he would say, like always.
But never why.
He was tired of watching his daughter grow up from afar, tired of not living a life with you at his side. Tired of waking up in a cold bed, in an empty house, far too big and lonely for him to live in by himself. Tired of being alone at night, consumed by nightmares and the suffocating feeling of grief and depression that overwhelmed him so much it hurt to breathe. Tired of not waking up to your kisses, your love, tired of not waking up to you, falling asleep with you, tired of not being with you.
How could he live without you? You the love of his life, his sweetheart, his everything. How could he live without you by his side, without the life you had made together? How could he watch his daughter grow up without you there to grow old with by his side?
The truth is- he couldnāt.
And Satoru knew that.
Soon, he promised himself. Soon, he'd be able to reunite with you again.
"You told me to buy a pony but all I wanted was you..." - Hidden in the Sand, Tally Hall.
A/N: This got really dark hahah...based on an idea I had last night
#dividers by @taurusmagicka#. Żā ā¹ ššš'š šššššš . ŻĖ .#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu satoru#satorugojo#gojo#jjk#jjk drabbles#jjk fic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojou x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru x you#satoru x reader#satoru x y/n
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ššØšØ š¦š®šš” | šššš¢š š¦š®š§š¬šØš§
you get upset when eddie's friends think you're clingy. he sets you straight with some unbridled affection. requested here. fem!reader, 2.6k
ĖŹā”ÉĖ
The diner is bustling with life and smells alike, people in their summer jackets eager to sit down and dig into a plate of greasy, fatty meats. You're just as excited, your fingers curled into Eddie's sleeve and following his lead as he weaves through a gaggle of kids playing between the bar and the booths.Ā
"Sorry, sir," a young girl says to him, springing out of his path.Ā
"That's okay," he says, leaning back to squint at you curiously, "Do I look like a sir?" he asks you.
Pale faced, dark-haired, the remnants of last night's eyeliner clinging to his bottom lashes, you can't say you'd look at Eddie and think, Sir. Pretty boy extraordinaire with a rather inviting smile, absolutely.Ā
"I think so, sir," you say.Ā
Eddie laughs at you, pressing a hand behind your shoulders to move you along. His friend Gareth waves from a booth tucked in a corner under a white sconce. Jamison sits to his left, and Margaret to his right. You feel a little skip in your pulse at the sight āthey intimidate you, and you want desperately for them to like you, only you never know what to say.Ā
"Hey," Eddie says as you approach the booth. He pushes you gently to encourage you into the seat first. "How's it going? Did we order?"Ā
"We were waiting for you. They said we have to go up to the bar when we're ready."
"We're late, I get it. Where's Jeff?"Ā
"He went to the bathroom, like, ten minutes ago," Jamison says with a sigh, climbing to his feet. "I'll go see if he's alright."Ā
"He's fine. Maggie, are you coming to order?" Gareth says, getting up with him.Ā
"Yes, finally!" she says.Ā
The relative chaos of your arrival has you hesitating in your seat. Margaret left her purse and her jacket on the table, and Jamison his keys.Ā
"You okay to stay here while I order?" Eddie asks.Ā
You'd much prefer Eddie order for you, but you don't want to be sitting here by yourself if Jamison and Jeff come back before him. You won't know what to say. It won't be their fault. You'll make things awkward for everyone.Ā
You stand up again, shedding your jacket as you do. No one's gonna steal anyone's stuff, the bar is too close. "I'll come with you."
Eddie slots your fingers together easily, grinning, "Lucky me."Ā
His friends order first and return to the booth soon after. You and Eddie get cut by a cranky looking old lady but neither of you say anything, nowhere to be and no reason to mind. He tells you about the guitar he's been repairing at work and you listen adoringly, in love with the shape of his lips and how he says every word. He's a great storyteller.Ā
A new friend appears once you've ordered.Ā
"Hey, Eddie!" one of the waiters says, appearing from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and fries in hand. "Man, I've been trying to get a hold of you all week. The string on my daughter's guitar flew off, nearly blinded her in the process, would you be able to fix that for me? I'll pay you for your time."Ā
Eddie waves it off. "It'll only take five minutes, you can drop by whenever I'm home. Why do they keep splitting like that, is she messing with the pegs?"Ā
"She definitely is. Can I get your number? Macey washed my pants without emptying the pockets."
There's a mad scramble for a pen. You have one in your jacket because Eddie's always looking for one, but your jacket is back in the booth. You promise to make a hasty return and set off for it, glad to see Jeff's alright, standing at the table likely waiting for you and Eddie to get back rather than move your things. You like Jeff most out of everyone. With the whole group collected you know he won't drag you into conversation.Ā
"She's a bitā¦ much," Gareth's saying.
"How can she be a bit much? She doesn't say a lot," Maggie says.Ā
You frown. You're the only other she.Ā
"Not like that, justā the touching and stuff. She's always grabbing onto him like a toddler. I don't think I could stand it."Ā
"You don't have to stand it," Jeff says. "She's Eddie's girl."Ā
"Clearly."Ā
"Gareth, when was the last time you got laid?" Maggie asks, flicking a hair tie at him, to his annoyance. "You're being bitter. They fucking love each other, man, it's nice."Ā
"It is a little tiny bit too much sometimes," Jamison says.
You wince. You know it's a matter of seconds before one of them turns to see you standing there. Is it worse to turn around or to approach?Ā
You walk up to the table just as Gareth says, "Yes! Thank you man, she's tooā"Ā
He cuts off when he sees you with a cough.
"Who?" you ask, full well knowing it's you. Honestly, you're shy but you still get mad, you kind of want him to own up and say it while you're there, and at the same time you're hoping against hope they'll lie.Ā
Thankfully, they pretend it was about someone else.Ā
"Nobody," Maggie says.Ā
"Some girl at the library," Jamison says.Ā
You lean past Jeff with as sunny an apology as you can manage to grab the pen from your jacket. "Eddie," you say by way of explanation, holding the pen up with a shrug.Ā
You walk away quicker than you should. It's obvious you've overheard. There's a thump and a, "Nice fucking job, loser."Ā
Eddie's deep in conversation as you offer the pen. He takes it without stopping, but he makes sure he kisses your cheek.Ā
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay?" you say.Ā
"I'll be right there, sweetheart."Ā
To get to the bathroom you have to walk past the booth again. With the hurt feeling pounding between your ears and what you suspect might be all eyes on you, you make for one of the two doors. The summer sun and the dry Hawkins heat hits you immediately, a second layering of smothering to wrap around the first. You walk around a rainbow chalk hopscotch and into the shade of the smoking shelter, hands at your collar, breathing hard.Ā
Don't cry, you think firmly. Don't cry. They'll know if you do and that's twice as embarrassing as walking out. Imagine how embarrassed Eddie will feel if you cause a scene.Ā Ā
You sit on the little perch in the shelter and stare at the floor. There's nowhere to look that isn't stingingly bright, the sun in the white-blue sky glaring down on you and the sidewalk bleached a blinding ivory. You close your eyes against it. Your shoulders hunch in protectively. Your hands find their way to your face.Ā
Like a toddler, Gareth said. You press your fingertips into your eyes, fighting against the ache. Is that true? Are you childish in how much you rely on Eddie? You take his hand and his arm, you catch onto his clothes when you're worried, you step behind him when you're overwhelmed.Ā
"Shit," you whisper.Ā
The breeze washing over you does little to cool you down. You must sit there for a handful of minutes, worried and nauseous.Ā
"Hey," Eddie says gently. You flinch despite his best efforts not to startle you.Ā
He looks tall outlined by the sun.Ā
"You okay?" he asks.Ā
"I just wanted some fresh air," you say.Ā
He raises his brows slightly. "That why Gareth just apologised to me?"Ā
You wince as he sits down. All of you wants to sag into his side, but a small voice tells you not to. You stay ramrod straight, hands pressed flat and clammy to your knees.Ā
Eddie gives your elbow a rub. His thumb digs into soft skin and the harder suggestion of cartilage and bone before sliding up. He uses touch often to convey silent reassurement. This seems to say, I don't know what happened, but I'm here.Ā
"I'm fine. We can go back inside," you say, attempting to fool him.Ā
"There's no rush." His voice tips to a low, rough register. He's keyed in to your upset, no doubt about it. "It's a nice day, babe."Ā
He gives you a minute. The small feathering of clouds skirts one edge of the horizon to the other, the shadow of the diner stretching tall as the sun lazes down. You push the worst of your feelings from your mind. It's easy to do with such an unshakeable support at your side, his fingers curling down to your forearm, vying for a hand to hold.Ā
"I heard your friends talking about me. It wasn't all nice," you confess.Ā
"Assholes."Ā
You glance at his face. He has a crease between his brows.Ā
"Well, mostly Gareth. He said that Iā¦ act like a kid. A toddler, that I'm too much, at least for him to stand. And don't get me wrong, Eds, I'm not thrilled that they were talking about me, but I guess Iā¦" You take a short breath and look away from him. "I hate that it's true."Ā
"You can be mad when people talk shit. I'm mad," he says. "He said you're like a toddler?" He shuffles closer to you on the bench. "Babe, it's not true, okay? You're not too much. Fuck, we're here to hang out and they can't wait ten minutes to run their mouthsā"Ā
"It wasn't like that, it was just Gareth." Gareth's always been the selfish friend.Ā
"He doesn't get a pass for saying something shitty 'cos he's always shitty. I brought you here," āyou peek at him, recognising upset in his tone even when it's the barest inklingā "knowing you didn't really want to come because you get so nervous," āhe sounds pained for youā "I fucking told him to leave you alone. I said we wouldn't come around if he didn't stop being a mood killer."Ā
You worry at your bottom lip. "Maybe that's kind of his point, Eds. You have to look out for me. You had to ask someone to be nice to me 'cos I can't handle itā"Ā
"You don't have to handle it. The people around you should be nice to you. This isn't high school, you don't have to put up with it, and I told him that." Eddie grabs your arm with the hand that isn't tangled in yours and turns you to face him. "I'm sorry," he says, almost a murmur, "I didn't invite you today to have you humiliated."Ā
You're feeling a little mortified by the passion of his feelings. He's mad at the wrong person, isn't he? "Why are you sorry? I'm the one who clings to you."Ā
"I want you to." Eddie holds your eyes, brown and big and imploring you to listen, the starts of his brows sewing together. "I'm sorry because it's not fair. And because Gareth was a dick to you. And for getting mad." He smiles at you ruefully. "I'm being a dick, too."Ā
"In what world?"Ā
Eddie leans in slowly, giving you enough time to close your eyes as his nose bumps into yours, encouraging your head up to allow for a kiss. He kisses twice, a third time, pulling away to rub your bottom lip.Ā
"Are you really upset?" he asks softly.Ā
You know whatever answer you give him is one he's okay with.Ā
"I feel so embarrassed," you say. "They knew that I overheard them. Now I feel like I'll be constantly worried about how much I'm touching you."Ā
"Well, that's their problem. That doesn't say shit about you," Eddie says, wrinkling his nose.Ā
"I'm really not too much?" you ask. He can likely hear how desperate you are for a kind answer, your throat burning with the effort it takes to stave off tears.Ā
"You've never been too much. I'm the too-much one. You wouldn't even hold my hand when we first started dating, you remember that? We'd go to the movies and you'd get so flustered when I bought your ticket." Eddie's arms wrap around your waist, the breeze ruffling his sweet curls and sending gusts of his smell your way. You're a goner, dropping your face into his shoulder. "Do you remember that?" he asks again, his face slipping down to yours as he hugs you close. "The first time we went to the Hawk together, I went first, and I don't know why you thought you'd have to buy your own ticket but you got all quiet when I got yours, too. I loved that. You know what I loved even more than that?"Ā
You smile, knowing he's going to say something lovely. "What?" you ask.Ā
"I loved how proud you were to sit down with me. You wouldn't hold my hand but you'd put your cheek on my shoulder just like this."Ā
Eddie rubs the tip of his nose against your temple. "I love how much you want to be near me," he says. "It's not childish, is it? If being closer to me makes you feel better, there's nothing wrong with that. Gareth's just jealous 'cos he isn't getting laid."Ā
"That's what Maggie said." You laugh.Ā
"Maggie's a good one. She makes Gareth bearable, kind of."Ā
You feel the stretch of his back under your hands. Your head is pounding from the sudden rush of big emotions, your tongue dry and throat aching, but you don't have a lick of urgency to get up and go back in.Ā
"He's such a dick," you whisper.Ā
Eddie laughs, patting your back. "Such a fucking dick."Ā
"I can't help being a loser and wanting to hug you so much," you say. You're joking now, but it's true all the same.Ā
"I tempt the untemptable," he says agreeably.
You laugh and lift up a bit to hug him harder, your face pressing into his neck.Ā
"You're not a loser," he says more seriously. "You know that, right? What Gareth said, it's not okay, but there's no accounting for idiocy." Eddie sits back on the bench, taking your forearms into his hands for some more soft massaging. "He can think whatever he likes, I'm not the government, but he was wrong, and also it's rude and, again, super shitty of him to do that here. So with your blessing I'm gonna punch him in the face."Ā
"Nooooo," you murmur.Ā
"Very soft no. Taking it for a yes."
"Eddie, you can't hit Gareth."
"He should watch his mouth, then."Ā
You reach up for a second hug. You love that he prioritised how you felt, as well as how eager he is to stick up for you āhow mad he is on your behalf.Ā
"He's trying to take this away from me," Eddie says, leaning back under your weight, arms crossing behind your spine. He looks up at you like you've stolen his breath, lips parted and teeth peeking out with his smile.Ā
"Do you really want to punch him?" you ask. You sound very fond.
"I hate that he made you feel bad about yourself. And he irritates me."Ā
"Butā¦"Ā
Eddie hums like he's thinking for a moment. "No, I definitely still want to hit him."Ā
You tuck a curl away from his cheek tenderly. "Thanks for wanting to defend my honour, Eds," you say.
"I'm on your side through everything." He looks ridiculously pretty saying such a ridiculously lovely thing. "That's how we work, right? You're on my side too?"Ā
Your face flushes with heat. "Of course I am, baby."Ā
"Good. Unrelated to our previous conversation, how much money do you have, roughly? In case I need financial aid in the coming days." He drops his voice to a whisper, "How much even is bail lately?"Ā
You cup his cheek. "We can't afford it," you whisper back.Ā
"Typical."Ā
ĖŹā”ÉĖ
thank you for reading!ā”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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Cross my heart part 1
next chapter āŖļø
Pairing:Ā Feyd-Rautha x f!reader
Summary:Ā When Paul Atreides is killed by Feyd-Rautha, the only hope for the Bene Gesserit plan lies with Feyd. As the eldest daughter of the emperor, your father promises you to the na-Baron to forge an alliance between your two houses. However, this turn of events is not to your liking, and you harbor little fondness for him.
Warnings: arranged marriage, sexual tension (smut in next chapter), mentions of violence and blood, pet names, size kink, enemies to lovers trope (?)
Authors note:Ā English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Also let's imagine Margot Fenring did not visit Feyd on his birthday.Ā
Horror plays on her face when her lover falls to the ground. Blade buried deep in his chest, where his heart was beating only seconds ago. There is no scream from her, she is quiet as the tears fall. Soon the room is filled with loud gasps and cries. You watch her break down on her knees. Now her lover was dead and the Fremen had lost.Ā
From the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of your father's face. There's a subtle hint of relief, a fleeting expression that only you can discern. Meanwhile, Feyd-Rautha turns around, a broad grin stretching across his lips. "Is this your Lissan al-Gaib? The Mahdi?" he mocks the Fremen gathered in the hall.
But in that moment, the Emperor and the na-Baron were invisible to them. All attention was focused on the fallen messiah as they swarm around the body. It doesn't take long for the left over armies to come and escort you to safety. Feyd trailed closely behind, a constant amusement playing on his features.
Your father's fury is evident; his clenched fist betrays his agitation. Yet this time, you won and destroyed the upcoming force from Arrakis. You tried to match his steps, but he was eager to leave this planet. You look back once, only to see her again. You didn't. She was hidden by the crowd. Instead, your eyes meet Feyd's. He had been walking closely behind you. "Don't worry, princess." Is all he says. You turn your face away, but he falls into step right by your side.
There is a ship, that will escort you back home. Feyd stayed alongside you and your father until your departure. "For now, I will return to Kaitain. But we will come back and slaughter them all." The emperor declared. Feyd Rautha nodded solemnly. He had dropped to one knee in front of your father. "You will stay here to oversee the spice harvest." There was a long silence. You noticed how your father exchanged meaningful glances with the revered mother Gaius Helen Mohiam.Ā The silent communication left you puzzled, unaware of its significance.
Suddenly, your father rose from his chair. "And I will give you my eldest daughter."Ā
A cold shudder went down your spine as you heard his words. You stared at his side profile, hoping this was a misunderstanding, but the revered mother came into your sight. You understood why it had been done, you remembered the words from her. Feyd was yet another prospect for the Bene Gesserit.Ā When your eyes fell on the Harkonnen, he smirked up at you.Ā
"I will not leave with you, will I?" You asked, as the na-Baron had left the room.Ā "You will. He won't claim you until he has proven himself." Your father affirmed. He referrered to the need for the spice harvest to resume successfully.
"He will come to Kaitian when the time is right."Ā
When you arrived on your homeplanet, the emperor dissappeared immediately. He was busy tending to the Fremen rebellion. The news of Paul Atreides getting killed by Feyd Rautha spread rapidly. The other houses remained firmly aligned with the emperor, since Paul had attempted to disrupt the spice harvest. Now there was no hope, no Lissan al-Gaib, for the Fremen. No one, who would bring them to Paradise as the prophecy had been told. However, Paul had not been the awaited Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit had anticipated. Few knew, but the hope now rested upon your future husband.
Over the past few months, reports were sent to your father. They arrived from Arrakis, each carrying Feyd's signature. He described the spice harvest as successfull and on the best way to reach big numbers again.
As your father reviewed the latest missive, his expression grew pensive. "He seems to exceed the expectations. The baron sent a report himself." The emperor said, while leaning over his table. You nodded approvingly, your heart racing at the mention of Feyd's name. "Will he come soon?" Your father frowned at your question, fully lost in his thoughts.
"My daughter, I think I need to send you away." Your eyes widened, but his remained fixed on the scroll. "You will go to Giedi Prime. Solidify our alliance with House Harkonnen, familiarize yourself with the Baron and find out his political plans. The wedding will take place on Kaitain in due time." You listened well, while he explained. "Will Feyd-Rautha also be on Giedi Prime?" The thought of facing the Baron alone on this dark planet made you shudder. It was a nightmare. "Yes."
Before the monthĀ“s end, you yourself send a letter to the na-Baron. It was a request form your father, advised by the revered mother. Every word was carefully written by yourself with your name prominently displayed beneath the message. It was not a long letter. You informed him about your upcoming trip to Giedi Prime to meet his uncle, the Baron. And suggesting that he should join you as well. It was not a plead, but like a beckoning call to him. Of course you had to charm him first. In the future he would either listen to you willingly or you would resort to manipulation. Feyd Rautha was known for his ambitious and ruthless character, willing to do whatever it took to achieve his own goals.
Oh how it angered you to travel to this unpleasant planet - but you were hiding your feelings from everyone. It was a duty you had to fulfill. Showcasing the amicable relations between the two houses was important.
The ship was prepared at the start of the next month, laden with various garments, jewelry, shoes, and other essentials. The dresses, in particular, were meticulously crafted for this trip, symbolizing the prestige and authority of House Corrino. A few servants and a Bene Gesserit sister accompanied you.
The journey was short and soon you found yourself descending into the atmosphere of Giedi Prime. Sitting composedly in your chair, you awaited the ship's landing. A scroll was clutched in your hand, an unfamiliar excitement stirred in your stomach. You read the single line repeatedly. "As you wish, my princess." While technically you couldn't hear him say it, in your mind, it was as if he were speaking directly to you.
He was a very intelligent man, with a mind sharp like a knife, yet charming and handsome at the same time. He effortlessly commanded attention wherever he went. Despite this, you wished you could avoid marrying him. While he ignited unfamiliar passions within you, you were certain they were nothing more than fleeting fantasies. There was excitement, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to cause you harm. Maybe with time, you'd figure him out better.
As the ship landed, there was no time left to dwell on these thoughts. Stepping out onto Giedi Prime, a servant handed you your long coat, its once vibrant color now subdued by the planet's dim light. The Baron awaited your arrival, surrounded by a crowd gathered to greet you. It was to be a grand entrance, fitting for the daughter of the emperor.
With confidence, you made your way to the Baron, your eyes catching Feyd standing beside his uncle. A smirk played on his lips, betraying his excitement to see you. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief that he was here.
"Welcome to Giedi Prime, Princess. It's an honor to have the daughter of the Emperor grace our humble planet with her presence. I trust your journey was pleasant?" The Baron's words brought your attention back to the present, as he bowed before you, followed by his nephews.
"Thank you, Baron. The journey was indeed smooth," you replied politely. As the three men straightened up, Feyd stepped forward and gently kissed the back of your hand. First, you wanted to pull away, but his touch was surprisingly soft, and you allowed him to continue. After all, it was a well-mannered gesture.
"I was waiting for you, my princess," he whispered slyly, his words dripping with charm. There was a palpable tension building between the two of you, and despite yourself, you found him captivating. Your mind wandered back to the Fremen girl you came across on Arrakis, the one who had lost her beloved. In her eyes, there had been an unmistakable depth of love and dedication. You couldn't help but envy her, for she had someone to fight for, someone to live for. You were never going to experience that.
As you were led through the castle, the architecture and decor caught your attention, though not in a favorable way. Everything seemed dark and robust, with a metallic, cold feeling permeating every corner. The building reflected the characteristics of the residents of Giedi Prime, with their porcelain-white features and hairless appearance. You couldn't help but feel relieved that the wedding would take place on Kaitain, away from this grim atmosphere.
A room was shown to you by Feyd Rautha himself. It was an uncomfortable walk. Conflicting emotions churned in your stomach, leaving you uncertain of how to act. There was only one topic you both could talk about. "I heard the spice harvest is going well," you ventured, breaking the awkward silence. Feyd, who had been walking slightly ahead, slowed his pace and turned to look at you. "Yes, my princess. The Fremen haven't been attacking our spice harvesters. They have withdrawn almost entirely." You acknowledged his response with a subtle nod. "That's great."
Suddenly, Feyd stopped, causing you to pause in confusion. The servants trailing behind also halted. "Is it?" Feyd's smirked, as he turned his body to face you directly, now standing pretty close to you. "Well, why wouldn't it be?" you replied, perplexed by his demeanor. "You know what I mean by that, my little princess," he said, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You allowed the touch, still unsure of his intentions. Seeing your confusion, he smiled, showing his black teeth. "My dear, you know what your father told me. If the spice harvest was doing well, I could make you mine." He leaned in, now towering over you. "And if I understood correctly, you're looking forward to our union?" It was as if a switch had been flipped in your mind. Your praise for his work could easily be misunderstood as eagerness to marry Feyd.
You took a step backwards to create more distance between you. Feyd let his hand drop to his side, his smile remaining in place. "I see what you mean now. Perhaps it could be interpreted that way, but it wasn't my intention. I was simply acknowledging the work that had been done on Arrakis." You said.
Feyd appeared disappointed by your response, his eyes betraying his displeasure at your lack of reciprocation. But first, he would have to work to earn your attention. While he may have proven himself to your father, it didn't mean you were now at his feet. You would make it especially challenging for him.
He escorted you to your chambers without uttering another word. "Good night, Princess." His tone was cold and desinteressed. You stood in the door frame, contemplating wether to say something, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "My Lord." You interjected at the last moment. Feyd paused abruptly, turning to face you. "Thank you for heeding my request and returning to Giedi Prime." You offered him a little smile, before closing the door behind you.
It was all just manipulation, to wrap him around your finger and keep him under your influence. He was thrilled to marry you anyways. Though love and affection were foreign to Feyd Rautha, his sexual desire was his weakness.
next chapter āŖļø
#feyd rautha#feyd smut#dune part two#feyd x you#feyd rautha harkonnen imagine#feyd rautha x reader#dune x reader#dune imagine#feyd rautha imagine#feyd rautha fic#austin butler x reader#dune fanfic#feyd x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen#kihyunsflavor
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daddy's in a tutu !!
(š©°) āā šARK JONGSEONG [ģ ģ“] ā ć
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¤š°. fluff, humor, married auć
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¤ warnings : est. relationship, not proofread, pet-namesć
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¤!nonidol hubby !jay š wife !reader įÆ ź° wc : 1.3kź± ć
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¤synopsis .į in which you come back home to the sight of your husband in a pretty pink tutu (ā¢ĢŖ o ā¢ĢŖ) āā š„š¢šš«šš«š² į”£š©
juno's note ā "unfortunately I can imagine him in a tutu if our daughter asked him too" is so jay coded. you will never not catch me yapping about husband jay..bc why is that man so hubby material. if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ā”
the snow was falling heavily outside, blanketing the world in a soft, white layer. inside your cozy home, you were busy getting ready for a day of much-needed errands.
bustling around the house, you pulled on your warmest winter coat and bundled up, ready to brave the icy roads.
before you left, you turned to your husband, jay, and your four year old daughter, yubin, who was sitting on the couch, hugging her favorite pink stuffed bunny.
you stared at your daughter's crestfallen face as she cuddled up beside jay. It was the inevitable that the four year old would be upset right now. due to the icy roads and heavy snow, today's ballet class was canceled, leaving yubin devastated.
āare you sure you'll be okay?ā you asked, fixing the scarf around your neck and grabbing your purse.
jay looked up from the couch, where he was busy trying to cheer up yubin, her eyes still a bit puffy from the earlier tears and her nose resembling rudolph.
āwe'll be fine,ā he reassured with a smile, āright, princess?ā
yubin nodded half-heartedly, a cute pout still present on her face as she clutched her bunny.
āyou guys call me if you need anything,ā you reminded them, pressing a kiss to jay's cheek and ruffling yubin's hair. āi'll be back soon.ā
and with one last look at your two favorite people, you braved the snowy outdoors. the cold air nipped at your cheeks, but the promise of hot cocoa and a warm house kept you going.
you made your way to the car, shaking your head with a smile at how cute they looked together. little did you know, an adventure was unfolding inside.
jay and yubin huddled together in the living room, surrounded by the warmth of the heater and the faint sound of delicate snowflakes hitting the window.
yubin wore her little ballet outfit, a mini bun perched on the crown of her head as she practiced her pirouettes.
jay on the other hand, was trying his best to keep up with her, although his ballet skills were definitely less refined.
āokay binnie, letās try that spin again,ā jay said, puffing slightly. āi think iāve got it now.ā
yubin giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement as he watched her dad try to catch his breath from just a couple twirls.
ādaddy, youāre doing great! butā¦ā
ābut what, sweetheart?ā jay asked, glancing down at her with a raised brow.
āi think you need a tutu too!ā
jay blinked. he hadn't anticipated that request. āa tu..tu? i donāt know if thatās a good idea honey...ā
āpleeease, daddy?ā yubin begged, giving him her best puppy eyes. āitāll be so much fun!ā
jay stared at his daughter for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of her big round eyes staring up at him.
after a moment of thought, jay reluctantly sighed, giving in to her adorable plea. āalright, alright. if itāll make you happy, iāll wear a tutu.ā
and with that, jay found himself sporting a frilly tutu that barely fit his hips, his face turning an adorable shade of pink to match the tutu. yubin clapped her hands in delight, twirling around in her own tutu.
āwe're matching now daddy!ā yubin cheered, jumping around in her ballet slippers.
jay laughed, looking down at the slight new change of wardrobe. it was definitely a combo to say the least, never in his life would he expect sweats to look so good with a tutu.
āisn't that right binnie?ā he commented, extending his hand for yubin to take. ānow, let's get back to those grand jetĆ©'s we were working on earlier eh?ā
yubin squealed, immediately accepting his requests with the grasp of her tiny fingers and a wide smile plastered on her face.
āyes please!ā
as they continued their ballet practice, the living room had turned into a makeshift stage for the two, with yubin and jay performing a whimsical ballet routine, the sweet melodies of the nutcracker adding the perfect touch to their chaotic performance.
āokay, letās see your best grand jetĆ©!ā yubin called out, her tiny arms reaching out dramatically.
jay attempted a grand jetƩ, but ended up looking more like an enthusiastic baby goose learning to fly, his arms flailing in the air.
yubin giggled uncontrollably, trying to mimic her dad's moves with even more dramatizing flair.
they pranced around the living room for what seemed like hours, their tutus fluttering in sync with every twirl and leap. for jayās sake, they would take periodic breaks throughout the practice.
during these breaks, yubin would watch in amusement as her dad rested his hands on his waist, desperately trying to regain his composure. letās just say, it was like watching a wind-up toy wind down.
after what felt like ages, you were finally heading home. sure, the sweet jingle of christmas music and the warm smell of cinnamon from each errand stop were enduring, but what you were really looking forward to was being wrapped up in a warm, cozy blanket with the two people you love most.
as you pulled into the driveway, the house looked picture perfect against the snowy backdrop. you carried your bags inside, balancing them as you nudged the door open with your hip.
āi'm back!ā you called out, kicking off your snowy boots and setting the bags down in the kitchen. āi got all the goodies!ā
no response. now you were curious.
you walked further into the house slowly, following the sound of familiar classical music you knew all too well. peeking around the corner, you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape.
there, in the middle of the living room was your husband, in a bright pink tutu that barely fit his athletic build. matching his outfit was your daughter, her own tutu flaring out as she twirled around, her giggles a melody of their own. they were completely in the zone, unaware of your presence.
If you were being frank, the scene was too precious to interrupt. jay was trying to execute an arabesque, but his balance was off, making yubin laugh even more.
ācome on, daddy! like this!ā she demonstrated with the grace only a child could have, and jay tried again, a bit more successfully this time.
you couldnāt hold back your laughter any longer, and jayās head practically spun at the sound, his face turning even redder from embarrassment.
āoh- hey honey! um, well, yubin wanted to practice balletāā he explained, his voice trailing off at the end.
ādon't stop on my account,ā you teased, revealing yourself from behind the wall as you took in the scene before you in all itās glory.
yubin ran over to you, her eyes shimmering with excitement.
āmommy, look! daddy's my ballet partner!ā
you couldn't help but chuckle, kneeling down to hug your daughter. āi can see that," you commented through giggles, your gaze flickering towards your husband for a moment. āand I must say.. he's doing a pretty fantastic job.ā
āwhy thank you.ā jay answered. he tried to pull off a graceful bow, but from the energy he had just exerted to his recent performance with his daughter, he stumbled a bit.
you couldn't stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes. āoh, jay, you're a sight.ā
jay grinned, walking over to join you and there daughter. āanything for our little princess. plus, i think iāve found a new appreciation for tutus.ā
later that evening, after yubin was tucked into bed, you and jay found yourselves cuddled on the couch, the soft glow of the christmas tree lights casting a warm glow to the room.
āyou really made her day today, y'know,ā you murmured, resting your head on jay's chest.
āwell, that's what dads are for, right?ā he replied, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.
āi think you might have missed your calling as a ballet dancer,ā you teased, nudging his side with your elbow.
jay laughed, pulling you closer. āi'll stick to my day job, thanks. but for yubin, i'd wear a tutu any day.ā
you smiled, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. āand that's exactly why youāre so amazing.ā
š¢igning off... @pnghoon
āā ššššššš [OPEN šÆ] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel
#ą±Øą§šššš.šššššš#jay park#jay park fluff#jay park imagines#enhypen jay#enhypen jay park#jay fic#enha fluff#enha#enhypen#engene#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay fluff#jay enhypen#jay fluff#jay imagines#Jay#enhypen jay x reader#park jongseong#park jongseong x reader#park jongseong fluff#park jongseong imagines#park jongseong angst#jay x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff
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game changer
MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader
summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dadās friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (readerās age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50ās), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joelās dirty talk, one use of āgood girl,ā one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk
word count: 9.1k (Iām sorry)
a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldnāt be here without yāall - you donāt know how much you babes mean to me & I canāt thank yāall enoughā¦now to you, if youāre reading this too I also canāt thank you enough ā”
You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dadās oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.
Now you stand before Joel Millerās face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.
Itās a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.
Home from your first grad school semester, you didnāt think youād be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didnāt care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.
Now youāre here.
āYesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, thatās where we can check in.ā Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.
The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until youāre deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.
The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and itās like nothing youāve ever seen.
The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.
Tommyās married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joelās daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.
You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.
āJoelās glad yāall were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.ā Tommy explains.
āYeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.ā You mom teases, but itās warm.
Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.
Youāre grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.
You knew your dadās friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your momās job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.
Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like youāve slipped into another reality.
Then Joelās entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.
āAll of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.ā Your dad explains.
The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joelās cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.
You understand why.
A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.
Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, heās older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.
Heās handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.
Itās like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality heās a man, a full grown and incredible man.
And he really is incredible.
Even though heās older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.
Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes canāt help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.
Heās gorgeous.
But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dadās friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.
So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.
At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. Heās surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.
After that the Rangers switch pitchers.
As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joelās exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.
Itās admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joelās roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.
Joelās eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like heās trying to recognize you.
Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.
You weakly grin back. Itās all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.
The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.
āGuess the game made you a fan huh?ā You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.
You shrug easily with an eased grin.
After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.
You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You havenāt brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.
Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joelās instagram page. It seems very professional, like itās run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.
Youāre not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.
Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see whoās at the door.
No way.
Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player youāre reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, youāre given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.
Heās knockout beautiful.
Of course, youāre still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like youāve left bed.
He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.
āAre you going for like a Clark Kent thing?ā You blurt before you can stop yourself.
Joelās face scrunches up as he sighs.
āGotta take a break from my contacts sāall.ā He admits with a grumpy reply.
But itās his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.
āHow do they even let you pitch?ā You lightly tease, and
Joel rolls his eyes.
āGood to see ya too.ā He rumbles, finally greeting you.
Now realizing heās still standing in your doorway, you let him in.
Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.
Youāre the one early thanking him.
āThe tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.ā You add sincerely.
āOh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.ā Joel nods.
āSo they let you just roam around?ā You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.
Joel scoffs. āAināt gotta be at the stadium till later.ā
āSo, was uhā¦surprised to see ya at the game.ā His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.
Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.
āSoā¦back from school, huh.ā That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks howās it going and what youāre doing.
For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guyā¦
Just your dadās pal.
The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.
You explain school is going good and how youāre here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.
Politely he asks what youāre going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes youāre taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.
Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.
āYouāre damn smart.ā He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.
āHavenāt read a book sinceā¦ shit canāt even remember when.ā Joel muses.
āWhat? They donāt have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?ā You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.
However his lips twitch faintly, like heās fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.
āThough, Iāve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.ā You add.
From the clips youāve seen and the comments youāve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.
āOh?ā Joelās eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.
āSuddenly youāre a sports analyst now, huh?ā The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.
āYāgonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.ā Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.
But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.
Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.
āYouāre fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.ā You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering youāre a grown adult. Even if youāre in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.
With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.
Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.
āThereās another game tonight. Wanna go?ā She offers.
You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows youāve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.
With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.
Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel āCowboyā Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.
Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.
You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.
This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.
The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isnāt pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.
Until youāre invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.
Your dad casually mentions Joelās house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.
Though gorgeously grand, itās still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.
You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.
Joelās eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.
Thereās more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.
The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like itās underwater.
Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.
So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. Itās honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms youāve imagined.
There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.
His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.
But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarahās work.
āIf youāre thinkinā about stealinā somethinā maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.ā
Joelās drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.
āNah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.ā You shrug playful, knowing now heās gone to the Series but never won.
Joel makes a low hissing sound like heās injured.
āDamn, yāhit low.ā He chuckles low.
You grin triumphantly.
āDonāt worry. Youāll get a ring someday.ā You say simply.
āSound sure about that.ā He replies.
āCause itās true.ā You nod. āYouāre pretty great.ā
Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, itās easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasnāt let it go to his head. Heās anchored by his loved ones, and itās admirable. You even tell him that.
āIā¦thanks.ā He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.
āWhat game has been your favorite?ā You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.
His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.
Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.
āOne of the first games the girls gotta go to.ā He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.
āOne of the best games I ever played.ā He adds gently.
He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.
āAnd you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple āitās goodā crap.ā The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.
So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.
Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.
He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.
The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.
Even if Joel isnāt pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. Youāre however surprised to find Joel is starting.
Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.
Your heart doesnāt rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.
The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.
Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.
The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.
āYou should get one!ā Your mom urges.
Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.
On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like heās a hero in an old cowboy movie.
Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message ānow you just gotta work on that slider pitch.ā
You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.
When you get home, you see the message has been read.
But also, a new profile has followed you.
JM_8712
The profile also sent you a message.
JM_8712: aināt nothing wrong with my slider
No way.
This canāt be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly canāt be the real Joel Miller because he doesnāt seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.
JM_8712: think ur so funny huh
The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.
Then another message flies in.
JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?
It feels like one of Joelās changeup pitches knocks you out.
Because itās really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarahās accounts among those profiles.
Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joelās personal private account.
Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.
The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.
Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.
You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that youāre sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.
For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.
One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages donāt send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.
āTheyāre gonna reschedule the game. Stormās not letting up.ā Your dad comments glumly.
You just hope Joel is alright.
Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.
Joel.
JM_8712: sorry connections shit
Then he simply sends you his phone number.
You wonder if youāre seeing things.
Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if heās alright.
When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.
Yeah im good thanks
Then another message follows. Itās a photo from the locker, bags packed like heās ready to leave.
Looks like room service for tonight
Itās Joel. Youāre texting Joel right now.
It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.
Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.
You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. Heās got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing youāre getting to know the man on the mound.
The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.
The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.
You think at first it must be one of your parents.
But instead itās Joel.
You scramble to answer.
āHey,ā his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.
āYādoinā alright?ā Joel asks hesitant.
That catches you off guard.
āOh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, whatās up?ā You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.
Joel sighs.
āSorry I justā¦your last text uh, it just got me worried.ā
Now youāre really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.
Sighing, you apologize that you didnāt even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.
But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.
āOkay yeah,ā Joel says a bit clumsily. āIāllā¦let you go.ā
āNo, itās okay.ā You quickly reassure him. āHowās the traveling going?ā
āGood, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.ā
āPlease tell me it was Field of Dreams.ā You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.
On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.
āFunny.ā His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.
āWas some new movie Sarah told me to watch butā¦fell asleep.ā Joel admits low.
Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.
Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more nowā¦
Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.
Itās dangerous falling deeper like this.
Especially now in a blink you realize youāve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.
āShit sorry.ā He realizes it when he sees the time. āYāshouldāve told me to fuck off. Donāt gotta waste your time talkinā to some old ass like me.ā
He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.
āTrust meā¦ Iām glad I get to talk to you.ā You truthfully tell him.
āYouāre the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.ā You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.
āLike watching Field of Dreams.ā You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.
Joel snorts.
āDefinitely would rather chat with you than watch that.ā Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.
āIām flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.ā You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.
Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. Itās confirmed when he sighs.
āGonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?ā He asks.
āI did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.ā You smile to yourself.
āDonāt mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.ā Joel replies and his words make you melt.
You say his name quick.
āCan you justā¦ Text me when you make it to the hotel?ā Just to know heās safe. Itās simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.
A moment passes.
āYeah, will do.ā Joel agrees.
He doesnāt text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.
āSaw a full on fuckinā fight at the airport when we landed.ā Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.
A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.
And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.
The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saintās patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.
Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.
While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, itās steady now - like youāre slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.
You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.
During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.
You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.
But the alcohol burns in you. Once youāre back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.
Itās a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.
Thereās a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically heās training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.
Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.
But not as hot as the sounds he makes.
The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weightsā¦ they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.
Youāve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.
But itās so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.
Imagining Joelās sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.
The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.
Joel of course had messaged you.
Looks like you had fun last night
So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.
But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You donāt want to feel guilty. You reason thereās probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.
So much that you donāt even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. Heās the one that eventually calls you.
āYāgo out on a date or somethinā?ā Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.
āOh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.ā
āOh.ā He replies quick. āWell, looked like fun.ā
You agree and thank him.
āBut yeah, no dates for me.ā You weakly laugh.
āYeah? Any reason why?ā Joel presses.
Because youāre partially head over heels for him, but you canāt admit that yet.
āNo oneās asked me recently thatās all.ā You reply simply. Youāve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.
Joel snorts. āPretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.ā
His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.
āTrust me, itās real.ā You dryly reply.
āAnd you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?ā You teasingly ask.
Youāve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.
Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.
āNo, none of that.ā He answers.
āAināt not time for that orā¦mainlyā¦havenāt found anyone whoās got the patience for me.ā
Your heart sinks.
āWait, what do you mean?ā You quietly press.
He sighs.
āMā older, a single dad. My schedule aināt perfect. And those that have tried to uhā¦ pursue something havenāt always had the best intentions.ā
His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.
A grim cloud seems to settle above you.
āYouāre a great guy Joel, an incredible one.ā You earnestly tell him. āThose who canāt see it donāt deserve you.ā
āAnd I have to say it butā¦youāre a real catch.ā You go for the obvious baseball pun.
Joelās chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.
āThat was bad.ā You can almost picture him shaking his head. āBut thanksā¦same uh, same goes for you. Youāre smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see youāre worth it.ā
Youāre drowning in his words. They feel too much.
He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and youāre thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like itās getting too much, yet not enough.
Joelās compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like youāre stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.
Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.
Classes kick up and the workload piles on. Youāre exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and donāt even call him back.
The days blur together.
Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.
hope youāre alright
You want to cradle that message.
When you call Joel, itās like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.
āSo uhā¦ā Joel begins cautiously, and youāve never heard him this nervous almost. āWeāll be heading your way into town soon.ā
Thatās right.
Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.
āHope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.ā Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.
The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But theyāre a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.
He texts back immediately.
Donāt worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know youāre with me. Got it covered
That might be one of the hottest things youāve ever read.
Game day canāt approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.
āYou should try to go!ā Your dad urges, eager.
A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. Youāve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.
You take a small comfort in that.
When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldnāt make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, youāre slightly okay with being here by yourself.
At the ticket window, you nervously say that youāre here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.
Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.
Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you canāt help but feel stranded in the stadium.
āYou okay, sweetie?ā A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.
āYou lost?ā The younger woman asks sympathetically.
It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.
āAw look at that! Youāre sitting close to us! Come on, weāll show ya around!ā She beams warmly.
āWait, are you sure?ā You ask worried.
āOh of course,ā the younger woman reassures you with a smile. āThe stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.ā
She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.
You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.
Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.
Youāre stunned in shock yet again.
Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you youāll be fine sitting with them.
Itās beautiful and comforting.
āSo, who are you here for?ā Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. āThese seats are for friends and family, and I havenāt seen you around before.ā
But then she quickly reassures you donāt have to explain if you don't want to.
You with a weak laugh youāre here to see Joel, adding that heās a family friend. Her eyes go wide.
āOh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!ā She says excitedly.
Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.
Donāt know if Iām gonna get put in but just in case
Even if he didnāt, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.
With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.
Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.
In fact he doesnāt show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.
The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.
It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you canāt explain.
You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.
Two strikeouts back to back.
Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.
āCowboy Miller in his golden age.ā Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.
You donāt fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.
āItās rare that a moreā¦seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,ā your new friend Casey explains. āBut itās hard to see why not. Everyoneās been saying like heās almost found a new groove and still has so much power.ā
Heās a force youāre terribly in awe of.
Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.
Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.
He did amazing.
Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesnāt search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.
But itās still a sweet victory.
You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. Youāre about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.
āSweetie? Arenāt ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?ā She asks with warm curious sweetness.
You canāt say no.
The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. Thereās a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. Youāre surprised at how many others wait here.
The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. Youāre hilariously reminded of a class being let out.
Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.
Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.
Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.
The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, youāre embracing him.
It happens so naturally you donāt even realize what you did until you blink and itās like youāve been thrown into cold water.
Panicking, youāre about to pull away until Joelās arms slowly wrap around you.
āGood to see ya too.ā He says low gruff but youāre taken out by the knees grateful your body doesnāt give out.
He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and itās wonderful.
Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.
Itās been so long since youāve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.
āAlright, dinner?ā Someone says, and when you turn, youāre stunned to see itās the team manager.
Guess this means youāll be saying goodbye.
āHeadinā home?ā Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.
āUh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didnāt wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.ā You joke, and Joel snorts.
āLet me take ya back then.ā He offers, and you almost drop your phone.
You scramble out reassuring Joel itās fine.
āBesides, donāt you have dinner to go to?ā And where would he even get a car to take you.
āSāfine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.ā He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.
Because of course they do.
Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that youāre going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.
You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.
āWish you could come to dinner!ā Casey frowns.
āMaybe next time.ā Her mother in law says bright.
Next time.
āYes hope to see you at more games.ā Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.
With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.
You havenāt turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like youāre hyper aware of being watched.
āDid you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.ā One of them whispers.
āSheās not even that pretty.ā Another one giggles.
āOh then you know heās maybe just using her then! And if thatās the case then good for Joel.ā The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.
Joel returns, keys in his hand. āReady to go?ā
You weakly grin back.
You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.
You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.
Joel however is surprisingly talkative.
āSo youāll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.ā His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like heās happy being here.
And it kills you.
āYāseem quiet, you okay?ā He notices it of course, ever aware.
āYeah, just a bit tired. Didnāt know the game would take that much outta me.ā You lie.
Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.
āYour place is nice.ā Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.
You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.
āYou sure youāre okay?ā He asks again.
You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.
You refuse to cry about this, donāt want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.
āJoelā¦ā you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.
āYeah?ā His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.
āWhatā¦what is this? What are we?ā You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.
Joelās eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.
āJustā¦good friends.ā He replies simply, almost cold. āJust showing my palās daughter a nice night.ā
There it is.
Your soul deflates. So all the times youāve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.
So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.
āThanks again, Joel.ā You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.
He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.
āWhy? Why dāya ask that?ā He asks, pressing firm and hard.
You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.
āIt doesnāt matter.ā You answer.
āThe fuck does that mean?ā He snaps a bit sharp.
āIt means what it means.ā You fire back.
āBullshit. Why did you ask that?ā Joel growls out firmer.
āEven if I told you, it doesnāt matter.ā You repeat.
āStop sounding like a fuckinā owl.ā His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.
It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.
You blink back tears, and immediately Joelās face falls.
āHoney, Iām sorry-ā
Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.
Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.
āNot when youāre this upset.ā He urges.
Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joelās eyes go cloudy.
āIām realizingā¦Iāll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?ā Your voice is waterlogged and you canāt fight it.
āYou are.ā He states simple and straightforward.
You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.
āCanāt be anythinā more than that.ā Joel adds through mutter.
āWhy?ā You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartmentās hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.
His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you
āDonāt act dumb, sweetheart.ā His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.
Youāre not and you tell him that.
āIā¦ā the words youāve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.
āIād give anything to be yours, Joel.ā You croak barely realizing you even said that.
He inhales, and his face goes taunt.
You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.
Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.
Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.
The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.
āMy roommateās visiting familyā¦ā you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.
āJust you and me.ā You whisper soft.
Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.
āThought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.ā He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.
āFucked my fist that first night you went swimminā at māhouse.ā Joelās words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.
āMe too.ā You admit through a whimper. āTouched myself thinking of you.ā
Joel freezes.
āTell me,ā he says rather calmly, deadly almost.
Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.
Your lips and eyes shut close.
Then Joelās warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.
āCome on, honey,ā his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. āTell me, please.ā
You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.
He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.
āPromise, Iāll be okay.ā Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.
So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.
He groans.
āBaby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.ā Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and youāre worried until his lips smash into yours.
He devours you.
Youāre swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joelās while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.
āThatās my girl. Knew youād be māgood girl.ā He says almost drunk and youāre done for.
You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you donāt want to.
Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.
In the aftermath, youāre left basking in Joelās warmth and never want to leave.
Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.
Youāre thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.
āJoel.ā
He hums a gruff gentle noise that says heās listening.
āI donātā¦ā you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You donāt want him to think youāre simply using him for his status or money.
āJoelā¦ you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and Iād still always want you the way I want you.ā Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.
You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.
You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.
Joel sighs.
āYāshouldnāt.ā His voice is a hollow rumble. āIām old, friends with your dad. We shouldnāt be doinā this.ā
Now a bitter venom spills in you.
You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up
āI'm an adult, Joel. And if thatās all youāre worried about then sorry itās a shit reason.ā You launch back.
Over his shoulder he glares at you.
āIfā¦ā you swallow hard. āIf youāre the one who wants to leave, because iām that young, or you really don't want this or donāt feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.ā
āBut I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.ā You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.
Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.
āDidnāt wanna want you the way I do. Youāre so bright, fuckingā smart and so gādamn gorgeous.ā He softly admits.
A pause settles between him and you.
āYācould be with someone younger, less complicated.ā Joel admits low.
āDonāt want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.ā You reassure with a soft steady mutter.
He goes quiet again.
āUsed to not get bothered when I started leavinā away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startinā to have their own livesā¦I didnāt mind doing this alone.ā
Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.
āBut thenā¦these past few monthsā¦and now today seeing ya waitinā for meā¦ā he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he canāt free them yet
Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.
The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.
He doesnāt need to say anything else. You donāt think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, itās effortless moving towards him. Joelās warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.
Even after spending the night, youāre surprised Joel hasnāt left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.
āYou have another game today, Cowboy.ā You comment.
The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.
āGot today off to rest, ya little shit.ā Itās affectionate. āBesides my back aināt what it use to be and after goinā more rounds with ya this morning-ā
In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.
The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy youāve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isnāt MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.
Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.
When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and donāt care. Youāre here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.
But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.
While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joelās back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.
Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.
Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.
He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.
āHm?ā You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.
āDonāt want ya to think iām ever using you, honey. Youāre not just some young thing keepinā me company.ā
His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.
Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.
But the next morning arrives.
āGonna come to our last game here?ā Joel asks while he packs up.
āDonāt know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.ā You say with a shrug.
His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.
You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesnāt play, but you donāt mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.
āText ya when we get to the airport.ā Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.
That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.
#again I blame baseball season and the recent dodgers game so here we are lol#but seriously thank you so much if you take the time to read me and pitcher Joel think youāre a home run#pitcher!Joel Miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#baseball player!joel#joel miller fic#pedrostories#Joel š¤
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Bars and broken hearts
Simon Riley x F!readerĀ
Summary: The 141 minus john goes out for drinks and when johnny decides to throw simon a spontaneous bachelor surprise it goes left quickly.
Warnings: angst, betrayal, infidelity?, guilt, heartbreak, not a happy ending, alcohol consumption, lmk if Iām missing anything.
ā-----------------
āWell I think you should go.ā you say to your fiance who's currently trying to back out of plans he promised to attend with his mates, again.
āWhy can't you just beg me to stay isnāt that what youāre are supposed to do.ā he says in a whine although with a gruff voice like his only you could pick up on the slight change.
āAnd hear Johnny complain in my ear the next time I see him cause youāre never out of the house, yeah no thanks.ā you say while stirring honey into your cup of tea. You can practically feel the holes his eyes are burning into your skull.
āYou know they are always up to no good when we go out.ā he says in a condescending tone.
āI trust you.ā he has never given you a reason not to.
āYou should theyād never let anything come between us, they love you more than me.ā he says while slowly approaching you from the back planting a firm kiss to your cheek.
āSo youāll be attending then?ā you say gleefully.
āYeah, just this once though, gives me leeway to say no next time.ā you laugh softly, simon and his thought out plans to get out of leaving home.
āI'll drop you off, don't look too good.ā you say turning around, he gives you a strong kiss on the lips, tangling his large hand into your hair as his other hand squeezes gently at your ass groaning roughly as he hikes your thigh onto his waist.
āYeah, nice try.ā you say pushing him away reluctantly.
āSure you donāt want me to stay?āĀ You do want him to stay.
āIām sure.ā he groans, walking off into your shared bedroom carelessly pulling a black shirt and pants off a hanger, nearly snapping them.
You laugh to yourself taking a seat onto the couch as he noticeably makes his steps extra heavy on his way to the bathroom. You patiently wait for him, swiping mindlessly through social media.
āRight, I'm ready.ā his voice slightly startles you and he quickly softens his attitude.
āIf you wouldāve kissed me looking like this i mightāve just kept you in.ā you sigh into his mouth pulling him down for a kiss.
āLater I arrive, the later I leave, let's go.ā you drive him to a pub not too far from your home. His hand squeezes at your thigh the whole way there until you arrive.
āI'll see you in a bit, I love you.ā the corner of his mask lifts slightly.
āBetter not be late for me doll, I love you more by the way.ā he says while shutting the door waving you off.
ā----------
āAww whereās the lass?ā Johnny questions still mostly sober.
āAt home she said sheāll join next time.ā Simon lies, you hate babysitting three 200 pound plus men after a long night.
āTell her I promise to not empty my stomach in her car next time, I swear it.ā soap says while ordering a round of shots.
āLike sheād believe that after the past TWO times.ā Johnny looks remorseful as Gaz laughs then gags remembering what it was like to sit in the backseat with him.
āI feel like we're going to get into some trouble tonight.ā Johnny says while downing his third shot early into the night. āWhen is a night with you not trouble?ā gaz says to the two men smiling widely.
āWhen is a night with me not fun you mean.ā Johnny says with a devilish smirk.
āChaos you mean?.ā Simon quips.
āAll of those sound like a good time to me.ā Johnny says while waving down the bartender again.
ā------
āYouāll be approaching married life soon.ā Johnny says with slightly slurred speech.
āIndeed I will.ā It makes a tipsy drunk Simon smile as he lifts the bottom of his mask to take a swig of the whiskey in his glass.
āThink youāll be having little ones running around soon?ā gaz asks, he could see the big scary ghost with a daughter or two. Simon smoothens his mask before talking.
āMaybe, me and miss talk about it sometimes but nothing ever too serious, sheād make a great mum though.ā The boys love just how in love he is with you.
āWill you name one of em after me?ā Johnny asks.
āFunny joke mate.ā They all laugh.
āLass weāll take another round.ā heads snap towards him.
āJohnny!ā Both simon gaz exclaim their nearly 8 shots in each and a couple of other drinks the result of tonight's starting to sound like alcohol poisoning.
āWhatās wrong with a little fun once in a while.ā
ā---------
āI miss my wife.ā Simon says, eyes glossed over and a severe need to taste your mouth.Ā
āWill we be throwing you a bachelor party?ā Simon scoffs.
āThis is my bachelor party, enjoy it.ā Johnny groans at his awfully boring best lad.
āI have to take a piss be back.ā Johnny says, excusing himself. Gaz and simon give each other a look knowing full well he went to the mens room less than ten minutes ago.
āWhatās that about?ā Gaz asks.
āDon't know but ima text the missus to come save me.ā Simon says whipping out his phone instantly happier by the picture of you on his lock screen.
After sending you a quick text he agrees to one more round as Johnny rejoins, what he doesn't notice is as he tossed his head back Johnny slipped his phone into the back pockets of his jeans mistaking it for his own.
āWhy do you look like that?ā Gaz questions the mischievous smirk on Johnny's face.
āNo reason.āĀ
āOh no johnny whatād you do.'' They follow his eyeline as a woman, definitely a hooker walk from the hall where the bathrooms are definitely heading towards them.Ā
āHey boys.ā she says, running a hand down Simon's chest.
ā----------
Youāve tried simons phone nearly six times now and nearly circled this block three times to let him know youāre here. You call once more groaning loudly as the voicemail starts once again. You search the busy street for parking, getting lucky as a car pulls out from the front of the pub.
You step out into the chilly london air not caring to pay for parking this shouldn't be long anyways. It's busier than youād ever seen it, you wrap your arms tightly around yourself considering you're in thin pajamas, Simon emits too much heat to sleep in anything else.
Finding your way to the bar knowing where they usually sit you keep your eyes peeled for him excited to get him home and finish what he started earlier. That's until you see him. You see her first actually, snaking her hands around the back of his clothed head where yours were merely hours ago. His eyes are pointed towards her breast as she puts on quite the show, grinding slowly on his lap, flicking her tongue out onto his cloth covered ear. Simonās hazed eyes are seeing you, like a dual reality that goes back and forth between a random woman and the woman he loves. Words are unable to leave your mouth so you stand there in utter horror until reality catches up to you.
āSimon.ā your voice comes out in a whisper as the three men's heads turn towards you. The woman who looked like sheād been having a good time on Simon's lap also looks towards you, then the ring on your finger. The three of them had never become sober so fast in their lives.
āOh god.ā you feel sick, turning around quickly and bee lining for the door as your eyes tunnel vision.
āGet off me.ā Simon says awfully harshly as Gaz looks disappointed towards johnny.
Heās after you in seconds, strides long and quick. You're at an arm's length when he tries to pull you back but misses by a thread. Times moving in slow motion for the both of you and this pub has never been so large.
āWait, I swear that wasn't what it looked like.ā His deep and loud voice causes the other patrons to look your way. Gaz and Johnny are steps behind him as he rushes as quickly as he can.
When the outside hits you, so do the tears. Your hand grips weakly at the spot of your shirt above your heart. It feels like the wind has been knocked from you and the world is crumbling around you.Ā
āLove i swear-ā you turn around quickly slapping him across the face. It stuns you but not him; he simply looks back towards you.
āDeserved that.āĀ
āLass it was a dumb joke i thought id-āĀ
āYou were supposed to have my back, you guys are like my brothers, is this how it is everytime you come out?ā a sob racks through you as they all visibly watch your heart break.
āIt's not like that.ā Simon tries to calmly explain.
āI'm leaving.ā you say slowly walking backwards towards your car getting in quickly and locking the doors before your fiance can try the handle.
āLove, just listen to me i didn't know what was going on.ā he shouts through the window as you start pulling out and speeding off as soon as possible.
āIāll fucking kill you.ā he yells to johnny.
āI don't know what I was thinking.ā he admits as his drunk actions hit his sober self.
āYou need to get a ride home now.ā gaz says walking into the street to hail down an overly expensive taxi.
Simon gets in it immediately telling the man your address and slipping him a few extra hundred for speed. His breath is rapid matching the racing pace of his heart. The two other men watch as he leaves.
āYouāre so fucked mate.ā Gaz says to an already guilty looking johnny.
ā--------------------
Simon nearly tears off the door handle as he exits the car almost two homes ahead and runs there instead. Heās fumbling keys until he realizes youāve left the door unlocked. Instantly he's searching for you, panicked and in a hurry to soothe your aching heart.
He goes to reach for your shut bedroom door only to realize it's locked. He knocks rapidly once then twice.
āLove let me explain. I swear it's not what it looked like.ā he leans his head against the door as you silently cry on the other side.
āDonāt do this to yourself.ā wrong choice of words but he meant well.
Before he knows it you're throwing the door open.
āTo myself!ā you yell as loudly as you can, shoving your hands into his solid chest.
āThat's not what I meant.ā he says, removing the mask.
āWeāre engaged Simon, we were going to get married in a few months.ā you cry turning around trying to slam the door on him.
āWere ? No, let me explain.ā he says, catching it with the toe of his boot.
āI don't want to hear it, go tell it to whoever that woman was.ā youāre infuriating he wants to scream but he knows all hell would break loose had he caught you in the same position.
āJohnny had hired her, I had no idea.ā he gets out as quickly as possible.
āAnd you let her dance and lick on you and hold you the way I hold you.ā the disgust on your face as you look at him cuts deeper than any knife.
āI was drunk.ā he even thinks that sounds disgusting.
āCheap fucking excuse.ā you say going into your closet grabbing all your clothes and throwing it onto the bed.
āWhatāre you doing?ā it's hushed and laced with panic.
āLeaving.āĀ
āLike hell you are.ā he says quickly, fighting to pull what's in your hands out of them. Youāre unwilling to give up at first, grip tighter than ever but he would always win. You fall to the ground and let go. Crying from hurt and frustration. He drops to his knees to meet you on the floor.
He scoops you into his chest as closely as possible, it hurts that you donāt clutch onto him like you normally would. You Are stiff in his arms so visibly uncomfortable. He wants to cry too, he knew he shouldnāt have gone out there's no need when your heart is at home.
āLet go of me.ā you say weakly.
āLets talk.ā he says, loosening his grip on you watching as you scurry backwards.
āNothing you say can make this better.ā you admit leaning your head against the wall behind you.
āIt wasn't my idea or choice, my love I was wasted.ā
āI was waiting outside for you, calling over and over again but you were just too busy being entertained by another woman, how fucking dare you.ā you say quietly but firmly.
āI know I fucked up but we cant throw this away just cause one mishap.ā he says trying to inch closer to you.
āI wouldāve never done that to you.ā you say as tears stream smoothly down your reddened cheeks.
āI know.ā how does one forgive an action like this he wonders.
āPlease get out.ā you say through stuttered breaths.
āLove-āĀ
āSimon, get out or I'll leave.ā He rises to his feet in an instance beginning to very slowly make his ways towards the door.
āHey simon.ā you say and his name sounds so rare on your tongue since you've met him he's always been riley or love.
āYeah.ā he says, approaching you crouching down slightly. You reach out, grabbing his hand and placing something into his palm before closing it.
Simon slowly opens his hands fearing what he already knows is there and utterly cringes inside when he sees your ring.
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excited but ready for a little criticism, be easy on me I'm barley getting familiar with the character.
Hope you guys thoroughly enjoyed mwah!
#angst#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x you#task force 141#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick
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Belief
Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x mom!reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Still felt like somethingās missing with this one š©
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āY/N, listenāā
āNo, Charles, Iām done.ā You brushed past him with your duffel bag that you had prepared days before because you knew he would still keep on denying everything.
āWhat do you mean youāre done? Y/N, please listen to me.ā
āLetās go, baby.ā Taking your baby girlās hand, you pulled her up to her feet as she threw her toys on the floor.
āWhere are you going? Y/N, you canāt do this to me.
āIām going home. Iām not coming back until you set your priority straight.ā You took little steps while your daughter trailed after you, constantly checking back, wondering why her daddy is not coming along.
āI told you sheās a new physiotherapist ! Please, donāt do this.ā
āPhysiotherapist wonāt be in your room all cuddled up like that! You think Iām a fool?ā You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, eyes still looking at your husband in disbelief as you felt every trust you had for him far gone.
āI donāt know what the news said but those didnāt happen, babyāā
āDonāt call me that.ā
He breathed in, hand on his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut and took a step back. āY/N, none of the things happened. Yes, she was in my room but nothing happened. You need to trust me!ā
āDada not come?ā Your daughter asked as she stood up after you put on her shoes. Her little hand goes back into yours.
āDadaās not coming, sweetheart. Dada has work.ā You tugged on her little hands and turned around to leave but she refused to follow, pulling you back the the little force she had.
āBut I want dada.ā She yanked her hand from your grip and ran back to hug Charlesās legs. āDada follow?ā
Charles then crouched down and gave his little girl a kiss on her forehead. āDada canāt come, princess. Take care of mommy for dada, alright?ā His arm went around her little frame when the circled her arms around his neck, hugging him.
āSee you later, dada!ā
āY/N.ā The soft tone of his voice nearly knocked down the wall that you were trying to build in your heart. When you turned around, you saw he took few steps closer to plant a kiss on your forehead, mumbling the words āI love youā as he pulled away. Both you and Charles had made a promise on the early stage of your dating life that both of you would never go a day without an I love you because tomorrow wasnāt confirmed, regardless of how bad the arguments would be. āAnd Iām sorryā¦ā
You didnāt look at him when you pulled away to make your way to your car. You didnāt want to ignore the words, but you also didnāt want to say it back so you just mumbled the words back under your breath. Your little girl had her half body turned sideways jusy so she could kept on waving to her dad, unconcerned with the problems going on.
If it wasnāt for the constant tagging, you would have been left in the dark. Checking your social media had always been apart of your wind down activity but you werenāt expecting to have over 100+ notifications one night, people tagging you on a screenshot of news article about your husband exposed to be having a short āintimate breakā with a new woman. The articles were supported heavily with a blurry picture of your husband and the woman walking out of the driverās room after which was what they assumed as a quickie before the race in Hungary. People started making fun of your marriage, saying that you tricked Charles into one by getting pregnant on purpose or you got pregnant as soon after the wedding because you wanted to secure the bag and some of them even assume Charles was forced to stay in the marriage not because of love but because of the child and his image.
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Though you had been living separately for nearly a month, Charles would always came by. Sometimes it would a short 5 minutes where he just dropped by to give his little daughter a new toy or just a short cuddling session. You felt guilty of course, because your daughter had always been daddyās girl but you couldnāt be in the same house with him without thinking about the pictures so you had to continuously tell her that Charles was busy with his fast car.
āDonāt go!ā Your daughter cried out and tugged on her dadās hand, dragging him back into the living room. āDada canāt go!ā
āI need to go, princess.ā He drew his lips back, squatting down to level his face with hers. āWe spent half a day together, didnāt we?ā His arm was stretched out again as she kept on trying to pull him back.
āCan dada stay?ā
He looked up and caught your eyes on him with your arms folded. āIām not sure mommy wants that. Why donāt you go and ask mommy?ā
āCan dada stay tonight, mommy? Please please!ā She ran to hug your legs and pulled on your shirt to get your attention.
āSleep on the couch. Iāll get a blanket for you.ā You left those two together shrieking with laughters and came back with blanket to find both of them cuddling on the couch. āAre you gonna sleep with dada on the couch tonight?ā
āYes! Mommy too?ā She scooted aside and pat on the empty space. āMommy too!ā
āMommy will sleep in the room, okay?ā You bended down to peck on her forehead and looked at Charles who has been staring at you. āMake sure she sleeps by 9.ā
āThank you.ā He took your hand and you snatched it back before matching to your room.
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āBaby, what are you doing with my phone?ā
You had just done putting on your skincare and walked out of the bathroom to see your little girl looking sullen as she was holding your phone. āNo answer?ā She raised the phone up as it shook a little from the unbalanced weight between the phone and her little grip.
āAnswer? Who are you calling?ā
āY/N, is thereāā
āHi dada!ā
āoh, hi, princess!ā
You froze when you heard Charlesās voice. When did she even learn how to call someone or more specifically, her own dad.
āDada! Hello!ā
āHi, I miss you so much.ā
Your daughter squealed and clapped her hands, bringing the phone that was larger than her hand closer to her mouth. āMiss you too!ā
āWhereās mommy? Is mommy okay?ā
Your lips were pressed into a thin line. Sure, you can still acted all fine in front of your daughter but that doesnāt mean you could play pretend with your feelings. I miss you, Charles.
āMommy is okay. Mommy was putting cream on face.ā
āOh, yeah? Mommy always takes a long time in front of the mirror, right princess?ā
āYeah, very long time! Mommy always goes dab dab.ā
You heard him chuckle and continued the conversations until he had to end the call. āPrincess, dada has to go. Listen to mommy and be a good girl. Iāll see you soon, okay?ā
āBye, dada! I love you.ā
āBye, princess. Tell mommy I said I love you.ā
She stood up and ran to you, handing you back the phone with the brightest smile, which had everything to do with the little time with her dad.
āDada said I love you mommy!ā
āI love you too.ā She giggled in your arms as you poked on her waist. āWho taught you how to call dada, hm?ā
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You were sitting at the living room, leaving Charles and your daughter having their own time. Faint giggles and maffles could be heard filling the silence.
āGirl secured the bag but still got cheated on.ā
āProof that a child is not enough to make a man loyal. Good try, girl.ā
Though it had been more than a month since what happened, your social media was still full of unpleasant comments. Your life had been in a downward spiral, even more when Ferrariās official account had posted a few photos from the weekend and you saw the woman who was in the picture with Charles months ago in the background of the photos. The comments were quick to jump into their own assumptions and speculations, making you felt more oppressed within every minute you spent on your phone.
āWhereās she?ā You asked when you saw Charles in the living room, no longer hearing her squeals and laughters. Your phone was no longer in your hand as you turned it off. Charles had took a seat on the couch, afar from you since you kept on shutting him out so he just knew you wouldnāt want him close to you this time as well.
āSheās asleep.ā He grabbed your hand as you were walking trying to walk pass him to get yourself a drink. āBabā Y/N, can we talk?ā
āThereās nothing to talk about, Charles.ā
āYou canāt keep on doing this.ā He was now standing only a step away. āI miss you. I donāt want to come home to an empty house. Please, tell me what you want me to do.ā His fingers softly traced your cheek, making your heart beat faster, yearning for more of his touch. āIāll fix the mess. Iāll speak up about this, let the news clear out my name, your name. I need you, Y/N, please.ā
You wanted to give in. You were so close to give into his wishes, his plead but you couldnāt. Never once in your life would you imagine yourself to be in a situation where your husband got tangled up with another woman that people started making fun of your innocent child.
āYou need to leave.ā You paced back, feeling his touch leaving an imprint on your skin.
āY/N,ā
āLeave, please. Iām not doing this tonight.ā
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The scream of your daughter took up the house as she saw Charles walked through the door. You had told Charles you wanted to do a small birthday for her and he had set everything up that you didnāt have to lift a finger. A day before a group of people came by to start putting on balloons and ribbons in your house. The food and drinks started ti arrive a few hours ago so you were only left with a few task when you had to dress her up and prepare a few starter and dessert. The guests were not a lot. You had invited your friends, their kids, family members and of course, Charles.
āHey, princess! Happy birthday!ā
Charles immediately picked her up and attacked her chubby cheeks with kisses, causing her to squirm while giggling. āYou are so pretty, princess. Did you wear mommyās lipstick?ā He laughed and wiped the smudge at the ends of her lips.
āI stole mommyās lipstick!ā
āKnew it! You should have asked mommy to help put it on you. Whereās mommy?ā She had ran to join her friends back to the small backyard garden, leaving Charlesās question left unanswered as he ambled to the kitchen to see you were preparing a cheese board for the guests.
āDo you need help?
āOh, yeah. Can you help me open the pack of crackers and just plate it nicely on this serving board? You handed him the board to which he took it and started opening crackers that you had placed on the kitchen counter while you went back to cutting the cheese.
Both of you were doing things in silence so you didnāt bother to check up on him as you only asked his help for the simplest task ever. One that even your daughter could do.
You had realised it wasnāt as simple as you thought it was when you looked at the board which was supposed to be filled with crackers, were only filled with a few ones while the rest went into his mouth.
āCharles!ā Charlesās hand stop moving as he looked at you. āI asked you to put them on the board, not eat them!ā
āItās addictive. Give it a try.ā He offered you one and you took it, chuckling as you chew. āRight? I told you! Itās tasteless but itās good. Do you want more?ā
He moved closer to put the cracker to your mouth when you declined, making you laugh as you tried to move your face away. āItās not that good. I donāt want it!ā
He cackled along, arm finding its way on your waist as he pulled you close. āGod, I missed you so much.ā
āHello?ā
āYeahāā The smile on your face ceased as your eyes landed on the owner of the voice, the same woman who was caught in a gossip with the guy standing in front of you. āOh, hi.ā
āY/N, this is Leah. Sheāsāā Charles tried to grab your arm as you tried to walk out of the kitchen. āBaby, waitāā
āI need to check on my daughter.ā
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āIsnāt that the girl that was in the picture? Did you invite her?ā
The drink in your hand tasted somewhat bitter. āNo, she came with Charles.ā You replied, eyes locked on your daughter as she played with her dad and Leah in the backyard.
āIs he trying to introduce you to his new girlfriend?ā
āI donāt know.ā You stretched out your arms as your little girl came running to you. āDid you have fun with dada?ā
āYes! Can mommy play too?ā She jumped and tugged on your finger to get you off the couch. āPlease please!ā
āAlright, alright. Iām coming.ā You patted her head, giving your friends a glance as you trailed after her to the backyard where Charles was on the grass, joining by your daughter after.
āDada, let mommy be the tagged!ā
āYou asked me to join you only for you to gang up with dada? Come here!ā You gasped dramatically and chased after her while she waddled to the end of the backyard. āOh, tag.ā Charles had just stood on his feet and stopped by your side as he saw you focusing on the little girl when you tapped on his arm.
āOh, come on! Really? I thought you were chasing after her.ā Charles groaned. He barely had a 5 minutes break and thought you were chasing after the little one instead of him, which was why he wasnāt running away.
āI canāt catch her!ā
āOkay, then Iāll just tag you back.ā He poked on your cheek, laughing when you clicked on your tongue, thing that you always do when you get annoyed.
āCharles, can I borrow you for a second?ā
āYeah, Iāll be right back.ā He left your side when Leah called out for him, both of them seemed to be engrossed in a discussion. Leaving you alone while your daughter had found her way back into her group of friends. You saw your friendsā sympathetic eyes on you as they called you out to join them back.
You felt pathetic.
ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹ļ¹
For the rest of the birthday party, you tried to ignore Charles and his partner though you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Every time you caught a glance of both of them, exchanging conversations and smiles while she kept on showing something on her phone, tears would welled up in your eyes and you couldnāt cry, not today. Today isnāt about you.
āBaby, can you please stop ignoring me?ā
You bumped into Charles as you tried to head to to kitchen and he had gripped on your arm, forcing you to stay as you were trying to get away from Charles again when the front door opened as you saw a man with 2 kids around your daughterās age walked in with a birthday present nicely wrapped in his hand.
āHappy birthday!ā The kids shrieked and handed the birthday present to your daughter as they ran to join the kids outside.
āThere you are! What took you so long?ā Leah exclaimed as she pulled the man into a hug. āY/N, this is my husband and my kids. I hope you donāt mind three extra guests?ā
āNo, not at all.ā A soft smiled creeped in as a mask to hide your true feelings before you made your way into your room with Charles chasing after you.
You felt so dumb. First you had to see your husbandās new āgirlfriendā then having to constantly see your husband played with your kid while his new girl a step away as she laughed and smiled along, one when your husband left your side in a blink the second Leah called out for him, only to find out that all of that was just an act and that she actually had a husband and kids. You felt your throat tighten up as you breathed in a short intake. āDid you try to make me look like a fool because you aced it.ā
āNo, thatāsā no, not at all. Y/Nāā
āI feel so woeful and pathetic. If thisā if this is your payback because I took your daughter away, Iām sorry.ā You sobbed into the palm of your hands.
āBaby, no. No, thatā thatās not it. You got the wrong idea. I brought her along because I had a scheduled medical checkup and she had to tag along. I thought she could be the one to explain to you what actually happened since you refused to listen to my explanation.ā Your trembling hand in now in his while he cupped his free hand on your left cheek, thumb wiped off the fresh tears that rolled down you cheeks. It had been a week since the last time he touched you, month since he hugged you and there was a hole in his heart from your absence. You didnāt reject him, not this time so he continued. āYes, she was in the room with me but I was asleep and she was looking for my stuff. Something that she wanted to borrow. We didnāt cuddle or do anything at all. Not like how the news portrayed. She came in with Joris because he had the access to my room but they didnāt catch that moment so it just seemed like there was only both of us.ā
Your tongue was tied, your head was in a shamble. You didnāt know know what to do, what to react, what to respond. If what he was saying was true, then why did he seemed so close with her. Why would he go to his daughterās birthday party with her. Why would he left you just because she called out for him.
āYou know how much I love you, Y/N. I would never do anything that would break your trust on me. I was asleep. I would have asked Joris to not allow her inside my room if I was awake. I didnāt know there were pictures taken.ā
āI donāt know, Charles. Iām justā ā You tilted you head away as you felt your throat closing up. āEverything I saw earlier didnāt make it seemed as if nothing happened between you guys.ā
āWhat did you see?ā He leaned in, tugging on your hand in his just so you would look back at him. āTell me, baby, what did you see?ā
āYou came to the birthday party with her looking like a happy couple as if you tried to shove that in my face.ā
āWe didnāt. We didnāt come together, Y/N. She drove her own car but we came from the same place, remember? Her husband wanted to buy a last minute birthday gift, just before they came here so she had to ask for my opinion since they didnāt know what they should give.ā You felt his thumb kept on stroking the back of your hand, he wanted to pull you in his embrace but he couldnāt afford getting rejected again. He didnāt know if you wanted him to touch you but grateful enough that you didnāt retract your hand away so he wouldnāt ask for more if your werenāt comfortable just yet.
āI am such a foolā¦ā Your voice trailed off with tears streaming down your face.
āNo, you are not a fool. You needed reassurance which I failed to give.ā Charles then surrendered to his own wish and eventually engulfed you in his arms. āIs this okay? Can I hug you?ā He didnāt get your response but he felt your arms on his back, returning the hug.
āIām sorryā¦ā You tilted your head to look at him with swollen eyes.
āWe are both at fault here.ā He drew in his arms tighter around your frame. āWill you come back to me? Come back home?ā
āDo you still want me back?ā
āI will always want you back, baby. Always.ā He pulled away and pecked on your cheek, chuckling when you started having hiccups from crying too much.
āDada?ā
He pulled away and turned to look at his little girl walked in with a lollipop in her hand. You stayed behind Charles so you could pat your eyes dry before she noticed.
āIs mommy okay?ā She slanted her body to peek on you as Charles continued to cover you with his back.
āMommyās fine, princess. Mommyās eyes just hurt a little.ā
āGive mommy this!ā She offered Charles her lollipop, making both of you laughed.
āCharles took the lollipop and extended it to you. āWould you like a lollipop, baby?ā
ā§.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj
if your usernames were crossed meaning I canāt tag you š let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#f1 imagines#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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Butter
Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating:Ā None
Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.
Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era šš»āāļø
WordĀ count: 3.6k
Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ā¤ļø
September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.
Itās Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and youāre determined to enjoy it.
If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.
Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where itās climbed up. And you donāt have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.
You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.
āMaāam, please tell me youāre still open.ā
You tap on the āClosedā sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. āBad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.ā
āNo I canāt, Iām so sorry, but I need a cake now.ā
Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.
āIām sorry, sir, but I really need to go,ā you say. āCan you give me a hand?ā
āLook, Iāll do you one better. Iāll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.ā
You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. āYou can fix it?ā
āIām a contractor,ā he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. āHereās my card, if you think Iām bluffinā.ā
Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, āLook, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but Iām late for a date, and Iām all sold out of cakes today -ā
āIāll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,ā he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. āIām sorry to be so pushy - Iām not, usually - but I promised my daughter Iād bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.ā
You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down.Ā
Especially when the man looks like this.
Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. āAlright. Cāmon in, Mr. Miller.ā
āNice place you got here,ā he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern.Ā
āYou donāt have to flatter me, Iāve already let you in,ā you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. āBut I appreciate it. You been here before?ā
When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. āNo, but I know Iāll be cominā back.ā
āI wasnāt lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,ā you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. āBut I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.ā
He ducks his head in a manner that tells you heās not used to demanding things, and protests, āI donāt want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethinā -ā
āListen, you promised your daughter a cake, didnāt you?ā you interrupt.
He shrugs. āWell, yeah I did -ā
āIām guessinā itās for a birthday?ā
He nods sheepishly. āIt is.ā
āWell, as a baker, āmfraid I canāt let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,ā you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. āLetās see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?ā
āTwo, actually.ā
Hopefully youāre as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.
Interesting.
You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. āItās gonna be a bit of a Frankensteinās monster of a cake, if you donāt mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?ā
āSounds perfect,ā he answers without skipping a beat. āThank you, maāam.ā
You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. āPlease, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.ā
āAnd you can call me Joel,ā he says in return. āIs Bri short for somethinā?ā
Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, āYeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.ā
The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. āCanāt say I saw that cominā.ā
You grin. āYou aināt seen nothinā yet, Joel.ā
You donāt often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.
Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, āI just need to whip up some of this frosting so that itās nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?ā
āIām all yours, chef,ā he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. āJust tell me what to do.ā
While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.
Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. āI think Iām done?ā
You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. āThatās perfect. Why donāt you tip in the crumbs straight in here?ā
Before you can step back to allow him space, Joelās taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. Heās warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.
The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.
Thereās a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.
āDid you say somethin'?ā you squeak, embarrassed.
āI said, is this ok?ā he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.
You nearly stumble over your words. āYes, yes itās perfect.ā
He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. āYou ok there, honey?ā
āYup,ā you chirp, far too cheerfully. āJust need to mix it all up now -ā
If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.
āOh shit!ā you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. āShit shit shit!ā
Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. āHang on, honey, I gotcha.ā
He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.
āThanks,ā you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. āThat was a rookie mistake. I promise Iām actually a good baker.ā
He gives you a wink to put you at ease. āDonāt worry, I believe you.ā
Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. āLooks like itās ready. You wanna taste, Joel?ā
āSure,ā he says. āDāya have a spoon or somethinā for me?ā
āYou can use your fingers,ā you reply, and it's too late to take it back.
You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips.Ā
āCan I, now?ā he teases.
You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. āThis batch is just for you, I wonāt tell the health inspector if you donāt.ā
Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. Thereās a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adamās apple bobbing as he swallows.
When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.
āGood?ā you barely manage to squeak.
āYou betcha, honey,ā he declares, then adds, āMind if I double dip?ā
He doesnāt mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. āYou can do whatever you want, cowboy.ā
You donāt think youāre imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - youāre getting yourself into trouble, and donāt you know it.Ā
Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. āSo, I can do somethinā really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piƱata cake is?ā
He shakes his head. āSounds dangerous.ā
āHardly,ā you chuckle. āItās a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, itās a sprinkles surprise!ā
He lets out a playful sigh of relief. āAs long as thereās no whackinā involved, itās good by me.ā
You gesture at him to follow you across the room. āAnd hereās the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.ā
Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, āIs this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?ā
You grin. āPretty much. Whatās your daughterās name?ā
āSarah.ā
āWhat colour does Sarah like?ā
āAny and all shades of pink.ā
āI can work with that.ā
Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. āAlright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?ā
Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. āGo ahead, Iām ready to be impressed, honey.ā
Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, āYou wanna get your hands dirty?ā
He raises his palms in surrender. āIāll leave it to you, I donāt want to make you any more late for your date.ā
Youāre used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesnāt take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.
āHow old is Sarah turning today?ā you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.
Joel looks up, surprised. āOh, itās my birthday today, not hers. ā
āWait, what?ā you cry, throwing your hands up. āI made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!ā
āIām a girl dad. I like pink,ā shrugs Joel easily.
You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. āI would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.ā
āIt looks great,ā Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.
āThere, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.ā
āAmazinā, thank you so much,ā he grins. āPlease, lemme do the washinā up while youāre at it.ā
āOh, Joel, you canāt,ā you protest, but heās already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. āYouāre the birthday boy!ā
āLeast I can do,ā he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.
āWell no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?ā you call after him.
āDamn, I was hopinā youād forgotten about that.ā
Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. Youāve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.
āDidnāt expect you to be good at that,ā you tease, moving towards the door.
āSexist much?ā he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, āI work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.ā
āSounds like you guys make a good team.ā
Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You canāt help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.
You give him a smile. āWell, happy birthday, Joel.ā
āThanks again for the cake.ā He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. āHow are you gettinā to your date?ā
āI was just gonna call a taxi.ā
āNo, you aināt,ā he nods towards his ride. āCāmon, Iāll give you a lift.ā
āOh, no, itās late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -ā
āI spoiled your date, so please, let me,ā he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.ā
Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.
āSorry itās a bit messy, occupational hazard,ā he apologises as he straps himself in. āSo, where are we goinā?ā
āDo you know the steakhouse on Third Street?ā
āVaguely,ā he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. āIt sounds fancy.ā
āYou been?ā
āNope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like Iām only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.ā
You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. āI feel you. Small business owner, am I right?ā
āI hear ya,ā he shoots you a smile. āSo - whatās the deal with tonight? First date?ā
āFourth, actually.ā
He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. āFourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.ā
āI donāt, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?ā
He blows out his cheeks, and admits, āHonestly, I canāt tell ya. I havenāt been on a fourth date since 1991.ā
You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. āYouāre such a dork, Joel Miller.ā
When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, āHere we are, only fifteen minutes late.ā Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. āThat him?ā
āYeah, thatās him,ā you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.
Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. āSo Iāll swing āround tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? āRound six thirty?ā
āA toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,ā you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.
āHell yeah, itās got a special clip for my Nokia and all,ā he adds mischievously.
'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.
'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.
You probably shouldnāt have, especially not with the guy who youāre supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But thereās something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.
Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard.Ā
Youāre not sure whoās more taken aback, but you donāt have time to find out.Ā
āHappy birthday, Joel Miller.ā
He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.
Youāve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, itās Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.
āHey, Bri,ā he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.
But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, āWow, you werenāt kidding about that toolbelt, huh?ā
Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, āIām a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettinā to work now?ā
āYes, thank you. Iāll be cleaninā up back in the kitchen, Iāll join you when Iām done.ā
Joel shoots you a thumbs up. āGreat. Iāll grab the ladder and get right to it.ā
When you emerge fifteen minutes later, heās on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like heās wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that heās a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.
āDid Sarah like the cake?ā you ask in casual conversation.
āShe went nuts over the piƱata surprise,ā he replies. āAnd the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says weāre definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.ā
āI like the sound of that.ā
āHow was your evening?ā he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. āDid you find out what happens on a fourth date?ā
You let out a dry laugh. āYeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.ā
Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. āOh shit, what? Why?ā
You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. āI mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guyās truck. And I guess probably shouldnāt have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.ā
You startle when Joelās fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. āItās all my fault. Iām so sorry.ā
āHonestly, you donāt look that sorry, Joel Miller,ā you joke.
He cocks his head to one side. āWell, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.ā
āDo you now?ā you prompt. āWho do you have in mind?ā
Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, āI didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.ā
āHow?ā
Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. āCan I buy you dinner?ā
āLike - a date kind of dinner?ā
āYeah, like a date,ā he nods.
You canāt help the dig. āAnd you were just sayin' you havenāt been on a date since...?ā
He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. āSince 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought Iād give it a shot.ā
Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. āWhy, I think I have a good feelinā about you, Joel Miller.ā
Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. āIāll see you tomorrow then, honey.ā
More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot š„° I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...
The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics š©š»āš³
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller imagine#no outbreak au#joel miller oneshot#the last of us oneshot#fuckyeahshorts
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The Ghost of You
Banner by my dear @commonmisery
Ghost!Joel Miller x fem!reader
TLOU 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU"VE BEEN WARNED!
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Summary: After moving into Jackson, you're put up in a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Can you help Joel move on to the next life to be with his daughter? Or will you keep him here selfishly with you?
Warnings: TLOU 2 SPOILERS, ghost!sex, mentions of violence and the things Joels done and what happened to him. bittersweet ending. Body marking and blood but it v consensual. It's loving.
A/N: This is my goodbye to writing Joel. I've made a few statements on thi before and if you've followed me for a while you know why. I won't rehash it. But I wanted to write this idea I had talking to @multiversed-daydreamer as my goodbye. i won't say it my last joel forever but it is for along time. all other series are cancelled. I am also just largely essening my writing for p-boys but I'll still be around witing frankie and javi and marcus sometimes. You never know. My main focus rn is logan howlett, triple frontier, and my original content
This is my love letter to the Joel fandom that has given me so much love and friendship
Looking for something similar? Brother by @macfrog is Tommy saying goodbye, and The Devil's Wife is devil!Joel, similar theme of halloween by @noxturnalnymph
8.5 words
It was cold. That was annoying. How youād wandered your fucking way out to Wyoming, youāll never understand. One minute you were in Florida complaining about the heat, now you were being treated for frostbite in your toes.
Youād arrived in Jackson last afternoon, nearly frozen to death and had been crashing in the clinic bed ever since. The doctor, a nice older man, took care of you and a few nurses checked in overnight, and today you were cleared to get settled. Word of mouth had told you Jackson was the place to go, a safe haven, a community where people actually take care of each other. Maria Miller, the town founder, had just left your room saying sheād be outside doing paperwork whenever you were ready for the short tour. Youād get the full spiel eventually, but right now the frostbite made walking a little hard. She'd just show you her office, the mess hall, a few quick essentials and then take your to your new home.
That was when you heard shouting outside the door. One voice was Maria, the other you didnāt recognize. It was hard to hear, but you listened in with your ear pressed to the door.Ā
āItās been 3 years Tommy. I know this is difficult for you but-ā
āYou donāt know shit!ā
āExcuse me? Who was there for you when you drowned your feelings in moonshine for years? Who took care of Walker while you went off on pointless revenge missions!ā
āDonāt you bring him into this. Donāt fucking do that shit, Maria, you know I had too.ā
A beat of silence. āYou had to do whatever you had to do to deal with what happened. We forgive you, we took you back here and the whole town in glad for it. But Tommyā¦ Jackson is growing. We need the space-ā
āYou never fucking liked him! You never wanted him around! I bet youāre glad-ā
The shouting began to overlap each other, voices raising until you were uncomfortable enough with the manās temper you grabbed your gun and opened the door, pointing it at him.
āSettle down there, cowboy. Aināt nice to yell at a lady.ā
*
The next few minutes were embarrassing, to say the least. Maria explained that Tommy was her ex-husband. She didnāt go into the argument, but she assured you, not without gratitude, that firstly she could handle herself, and second that Tommy wasnāt a threat.
After Tommy left with a pointed āfuck youā in your direction, you turn back to find Maria rolling her eyes.Ā
āHeās a good man. I promise. Good dad, works hard, takes care of his people. He just getsā¦ well, thereās some sore spots. Cāmon letās get you home. I bet youāre tired.ā
Settled into the house that felt way too big for just you, your thoughts drift to the man. He was older, 50ās maybe? Dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and tired lines around his eyes, but handsome. He was so angry, and angry at you. What the hell did you do? You hadnāt even been here a day! Fucking unreal. Men were men no matter where you went, but their temper tantrums never ceased to amaze you.Ā
The house was pretty empty. Youād been given a few furnishings, but the house was stripped of all character, certainly taking apart everything the previous owner had. Had the place been occupied since the world fell apart? Or had someone who lived here died? You wondered how. You wondered if they had family, or if the town was their family.Ā
The kitchen had kindly been stocked up pretty well, and youād been given some toiletries so after eating, you enjoyed your first warm bath in a long time. Running water, and it was warm? Fantestic. You boiled a pan of water and tossed it into the tub for some extra heat just how you liked it.
In bed that night, thatās when things got weird. You felt a coldness wash over your body, a shiver you didnāt expect under the warm blankets. Then the window unlatched and flew open. You gasp, fearful at first, but then justify that since itās on springs, the latch mustāve been not done right and just sprung open. No big deal. But then you felt a hand on your cheek and you froze.
It didnāt linger more than a second. The touch was fluid, but not wind, not air. There was a roughness to it, the distinct feeling of a large hand cupping your faceā¦ but you werenāt scared. Instead, you felt calmed. Relaxed.
It became routine, after a few weeks, you refused to go to sleep until you felt it, the touch of warmth on your face, and you felt safe. It didnāt take long for you to believe you had a ghost; after the cordyceps, ghosts were never far from disbelief, something youād always been open to, but the question was who.
That would be answered soon enough. You could just ask, yeah, but you wanted to find out, in their own words. As the days progressed, youād been given time to recover and adjust before working, so you spent a lot of time settling into your house. This was not without its encounters with the ghost. More and more, they seemed to get stronger, able to do more, communicate more. There were items shuffled around, bigger and bigger until the couch was moved.
āI donāt like it there.ā You said out loud, pushing it back a few feet.
They moved it again.
āCome on, youāre being annoying.ā You move, just for it to get moved back again.
You throw your hands up in the air. āFine! At least be useful and carry the chair upstairs.ā No response, no movement. āDick.ā A gust of wind through your hair and you giggle.
You scribble together a make-shift ouija board, a circle tied from some guitar string you found in a box the ghost knocked off a shelf that mustāve not been cleaned.Ā
Candles lit, you cross legged on the floor, you try to get information. Requests for the name came up empty, but the string moved toĀ āyesā when asked if they were a man.
āHow old are you? Or- were you?ā
5. 6.
āOld man.ā You chuckle when wind brushes your hair. Youād learned this was his way of teasing.
āHow did you die?ā
D-o-n-t-g-o-g-o-l-f-i-n-g
āDonāt go golfing? What does that mean?ā
No response.
āWas that a joke?ā
Yes.
āWell, I donāt get it. You know that, right?ā
Yes.
āFine, donāt wanna talk about death I see. Fair enough, never been there myself but I heard itās not fun. Uhhhhhh got any kids?ā
2
āGo on.ā
2 g-i-r-l-s. 1 d-e-a-d.
āOh, Iām sorry to hear thatā¦ where is the other?ā
I-d-o-n-t-k-n-o-w
āShit, iām sorry about that too. Must be confusing.ā Not knowing where your daughter is must be hard. āIs your other daughter with you? In the afterlife I mean?ā
e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-i-s-d-a-r-k
That broke your heart. āMust be scary.ā
Yes
Then, the string moved again.
N-e-w-t-o-p-i-c
a-b-o-u-t-y-o-u
For whatever reason, this makes you blush. You spend the evening telling him about yourself, sharing details and asking him the same. He didnāt like talking about his family, refused to answer any more questions. Wouldnāt say his name.
But it was the first time youād been called beautiful over ouija board, you knew that much.Ā
Even after you began working, every evening youād run home to spend time with this ghost of a man. The most people saw of you outside your day labor was a pop into the mess hall to take food home or the clinic as they checked you were recovering okay.
āDonāt see much of you.ā The doctor commented. āYou adjusting okay? I know itās a lot to get used to.ā
You blink in confusion. You were fine. Happy, even. Sure, you didnāt get to know anyoneā¦ but why would you? You did your part for the community, then you went home. Hell, you volunteered extra hours sometimes, picking up more than your fair share. You just didnāt want to get close, thatās all. People died, youād learned that hard lesson early in life, and learned it over and over and over again. There was no point in making friends, falling in love. Not when it was all so fragile.
But you had your ghost man. He had already crossed that barrier, so there was nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.That night, you talked out loud to him about your day as you always did, he made little sounds knocking cabinets together or brushing a breeze on your skin to let you know he was listening. Sometimes winds rustled your hair when he thought you were funny. Then, the wind turned into a gust, and two firm hands pressed you down the hall, the message clear.
āJesus! Iām going Iām going!ā You follow the breeze bushing you. Fuck he was getting more powerful every day. Pushed to the kitchen, youāre face to face with the fridge.
āIf this is a fat joke- hey!ā Two distinct fingers pinched your cheek and you laughed. āOkay, tell me what you want!ā A breeze, and you hear a fluttering between the fridge. When you bend down and dig around the dust bunnies, you find a piece of distinct photograph paper, and pull it out. On it was a picture of a man, 30ās, maybe 40ās if you were pushing it, his arm wrapped around a hung girl holding a trophy. They looked happy.
āIs this you?ā
The picture ruffled in your hand.Ā
āAnd the girl, that your daughter?ā
The pictures motion was repeated. This looked like it was from before, from long agoā¦ you assumed the girl was the daughter that died.
āItās so cuteā¦ā You traced the picture of your ghost, having a face but no name still. Your feel warm, a blush creeping around your skin and a deep heat settling in your stomach. He was handsome. Youād never really pictured him,, besides a few wandering thoughts here and there, but nothing stuck. You put his picture on your fridge.
At night, the image of his face danced in your head, unable to sleep. It was weird, this friendship you had with the ghost in your house, but you didnāt really care. There were worse things in this world, darker ways to cope. So what if a dead man made you happy, made you blush and grin and giggle. So what if he was the reason your hand was currently being shoved into your PJās.Ā
Youād be lying if you hadnāt touched yourself that first night, but this was the first night you pictured his body on your, his face, that beardā¦
āAre you watching me?ā You asked, panting. That was a first too. You knew there was a possibility he watched, but you didnāt really care. Never had. Now, you hoped he did.
A pause.
Then, the liquid touch of a hand on your face. He was here. He was watching.
āGood.ā You assure him, hoping he stays. āWant you to watch.ā Your fingers begin to pump in your cunt, and you kick off the covers. So what if it was cold, you wanted him to see you. You thought about what it would be like to feel his face buried between your legs, what his voice sounds like, how heād touch you-
āYou can touch me, if you want. Not just my face.ā It was a bold statement. Things with you and him had been friendly, close, a little flirtyā¦ but nothing so far had suggested more. For a moment, you thought he wouldnāt. Maybe he just watched to watch. Maybe you embarrassed him and he left.
Then his touch landed on your face, slowly trailing down, down, until you could feel hands on your breasts. The slightest brush on lips ghost the shell of your ear, your cheek, and your heart swells. He wants to kiss you.Ā
āYou can kiss me. Itās okay.ā It wasnāt as strong a touch a his hands, but he ridgid texture of chapped lips touch yours, and ripples of pleasure flow throughout the erogenous zones on your body, far ore reach than two hands ever could. It tickles, and it feels fucking good.
āWish you were hereā¦.ā You mumble, still fucking yourself as hips bucked against yoru fingers, sopping wet sounds fill the quiet bedroom. āNever connected to anyone the way I have you.ā A squeeze on your leg reassured you, and soon your tits were being messaged in a way clumsy human hands couldnāt do. It was like the rolling ocean crashing and waving and peaking on the tender flesh, a surreal experience to your touch-starved body.
āIām gonna cum, Iām f-fuck, youāre gonna make me cum-ā
Then you hear it, clear as day, sharp and quick against your ear.
āJoel.ā
His name. You cry it out as your pussy clenches down on your fingers.
*
After that, ghost sex was something you and Joel regularly engaged in. He couldnāt really speak much still, usually only getting out one word. Generally it was ordering you to cum, sometimes a single word compliment slipped through with a southern accent.
āBeautiful.ā He whispered as you lay in bed, satiated and panting.
He thought you were beautiful when you came.
There was never another reason to go anywhere outside of your home other than to work or get food, and more and more you just got groceries and worked with what you had. You liked cooking with him ,you didnāt want to be away.
Today, as you tried to make soup, you couldnāt help laugh as he managed to speak āMore seasoningā and lift a fuck ton of herbs up and into the pot. At least he was a helpful ghost.
āYou can just make it next time!ā
You expect to feel your hair rustle, but instead his voice speaks.
āTommy.ā
Then a knock on the door. You were so startled (people never visited you) you almost didnāt answer. No one outside that door could be worth time away from Joel, but he pushed you to answer, a desperation in his actions that matched the tone he spoke the name.
When you answered, you would have shut the door if you werenāt curious about Joelās reaction.
There stood the man who got in a shouting match with Maria. Oh, yeah, Tommy, thatās right. But why was he here? Tommy was tall, but his posture at the moment was sunken, sheepish. When he looked at you, pink dusted his tan skin. āCan I talk tāyuh?ā
You narrow your eyes. āSorry, but the last time we spoke you werenāt exactly polite enough for me to feel like welcoming you inside, and every time Iāve seen you, you give me dirty looks.ā
He nods. āI understand, thatās why I uhā¦ wanted tāexplain myself. I shouldnātāve done that, but I was angry. Aināt right, stillā¦ā
āWhat could I have possibly done to you?ā
His eyes were large, brown, and wet. āThis was uhā¦ my brotherās house. He died 3 years ago.ā
*
5 Minutes later, Tommy was sitting on the couch with you, cup of soup in hand. You hadnāt felt or heard Joel, but this was your chance. Some answers.
āFunny.ā He pats the couch. āThis was his. Was right here for years, never moved it.ā
āItās uhā¦ a good spot. Now, I think you had some explaining to do?ā
āRightā¦ā Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. āThe house has been empty since he died. My wi- ex wife, I guess, kept it empty out of courtesy but she was right. It was time to move on.ā
āDid he die in here?ā
He shook his head. āNo.ā
Tommy explained it to you. The revenge that was enacted on his brother for saving the girl, Ellie. You wondered if that was his daughter he mentioned, but Tommy just referred to her as his kid. How the woman and their group killed him, Tommy saw his brother's head bashed in, brain matter on the walls.Ā
The golf joke still didnāt make sense, but youād figure it out. You learned more about Joel too, that he was from Texas, that his daughter, Tommy niece, died on outbreak day. Joelās birthday. Joel played the guitar, he liked to swim, was an overbearing brother and loving dad. He was married once. He learned to cook to get Sarah to eat veggies so he was pretty good at it. Was a good man. The best, the way Tommy spoke.
āI know it aināt right the way Iāve treatān yuh. And I know itās not your fault. I just hadnāt been handling his death well, you know? Lost my wife, almost lost my sonā¦ I aināt been the man he raised me to be. I now you donātā¦ do anything. In town. Thatās probably my fault and Iām so-ā
āYou think I stay home because Iām avoiding you?ā You nearly bark out a laugh, his eyes growing in confusion. āBrother, I aināt scared of no man, if I wanted to go to the movie nights I would have!ā
Tommy processes this information, sipping on the last of the soup broth. āOhā¦ I guess I just assumed...ā
āWell, you know what they say about assuming. Makeās an ass out of you and me. Here, gimmie.ā You take his mug, walking to the kitchen to rinse it and still giggling.
Tommy follows you. āWell Iām sorry! I guess I just figured, the timeān ān all.ā
You throw a look over your shoulder. āI stay home because I like it here. Because Iāve been alone for years, so Iām fine with it.ā
āBut why not-ā He stops in his tracks. āWhere did you get that?ā
You follow his line of view and realize your mistake. āUh. I uh. I found that while cleaning the kitchen, by the fridge. I guess I thought it was nice, so I hung it upā¦ why? Who is it?ā
You knew the answer before he even spoke Joelās name. You had to pretend to be surprised, but even worse, you knew what you needed to do.
āKeep it.ā You say, pushing the picture closer to him, breaking you a bit. You had to hide every emotion, because there was no reason for you to have any attachment to it. He didnāt know what you and Joel shared with each other. Who he was to you. It didnāt matter, because Joel was his brother. The girl was his niece. He deserved the picture.
āThatās her. Thatās Sarah.ā Tommy continued, confirming your suspicions as his finger trailed over the girl.Ā
āSheās adorable.ā
āYeahā¦ she was. Great kid too.ā
Tommy helped you wash up the dishes from making soup, you and him talking more. He was nice when he wasnāt yelling. You could understand why he was so upset at the time, and you forgave it.
You told as much as he stood in your doorway. āI donāt hold it against you. I promise.ā
He nods, smiling and looking more at ease. āPromise youāll come to the next movie night, itās tomorrow. Itāll be good for you, I promise.ā
āWhatās playing?ā
āScream 2!ā
You roll your eyes. āNot the first one?ā
āOh, Iām sorry,ā Tommy says with a tease. āIs fucking scream 2 at the end of the world not enough for you?ā
You shove him out of your door, laughing. āFine! Iāll fucking come. But only to see Timothy Olyphant.ā
You shut the door, and turn around still laughing. But what you see shocks you so bad, youād have screamed if you didnāt cover your mouth.
It was Joel. Faint. Barely there. A dead eyed stare. Much older than the picture and his hair was longer. But it was him.
āJoel?ā You say, tentatively walking towards him. He wasnāt looking at you, instead, he was looking at the door, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing. Your hand passes through him and when his form dissipates, you fall to the ground and cry.
*
āAre you mad at me?ā You ask. He was strangely quiet the rest of the day, only a few little touches here and there. No ghost sex that night. When you are getting out of work clothes and putting something warm on for the movie, you bring it up.
āNo.ā
āWell, youāve hardly talked to me. Is it because I asked Tommy as those questions about you? Iām sorry, itās just easier that way and I wanted to know what happened to you-ā
āI miss him.ā
Three whole words.Ā
āYouāre getting stronger. Did you mean to appear to me yesterday?ā
āYou saw me?ā
āYeah, and I hear you really good now.ā You grin. āI canāt believe youāre talking this much. Maybe Iāll skip the movie, I donāt wanna lose-ā
āNo. Go.ā a brief pause. āPlease.ā
āJoel Miller,ā You tease him. āAre you having me check on your baby brother?ā He rustles your hair.
*
So, you started hanging around Tommy more. It started as filling Joel in on his life, but really, you liked being around Tommy. He was easy to talk to.Ā
You lay on your side in bed, trying to picture his face as youād done every night for months as you talk to him. Joelās voice was clear, fully communicating with you now. Every now and then you could see a glimpse of him in a mirror or the faint frozen picture of him standing somewhere, usually after Tommy was over.Ā
āWalker is doing really well.ā You tell him about his nephew youāve met a few times. For a few years, Tommy was barely around after Joelās death, most of the time he was drunk. There was an incident several months ago where Tommy passed out of the couch and Walker tried to start the stove, resulting in a small kitchen fire, and Tommy effectively lost custody of his son. Not that family court existed here, but Tommy knew he couldnāt be there. This was shortly after you moved in, and was the reason Tommy finally got sober. Things were going better now, and heās repairing that relationship.
āYou met him?ā
āYeah, heās quiet. But heās very polite.ā Tommy said he takes after Joel. Walker and Joel had been very close before he died, Tommy adored the little boy. The little boy in question was now 8, growing up.
He sighs. āYeah, he was a good kid. I never had a son, figured raiseān Tommy was close enough. But when I was with himā¦ Sometimes I think back to when Sarah died, how hard Tommy fought to keep her aliveā¦ yuh know, after she died I was just, I was drowning in my sadness. There was no room for Tommyās grief, I guess. Heās stronger than I gave him credit for, because he was always there for me. If I had lost Walkerā¦ I dunno if I could have been that strong.ā
A few days later, you invite Tommy and his son over for dinner, and as you stare at Walker eating his food and laughing you can see Joel. Heās no longer a still picture, heās moving, and smiling, and laughing too. No one else can see or hear him.
But he looks right at you.
*
You can see him now, laying on the pillow beside you as the pair of you talk. Sometimes heās tangible, hands touching your face and you can see his tan skin through your peripheral. Sometimes itās more faint, like heās using all his strength to be see and he canāt materialize his touch. You donāt know how it works, but youāre happy to see his face. Joel has kind eyes, a softness in a world of blood and violence.
āYou're beautiful.ā And itās your voice whispering it to him, because he is. Every line on his face, the scar on his forehead, the tired darkness under his eyes as if an eternity to sleep wasnāt enough. Every little freckle you could map on his face on days he was more clear. It was perfect. It was him.Ā
A sadness crosses over those pools of brown. āI really donāt deserve youā¦ā When you open your mouth to protest, he continues. āIāve killed people.ā
That wasnāt a shock. Who hasnāt? āI have too.ā
But Joel shakes his head, curls staying in place as if gravity is now inconsequential, as if heās frozen in time with a single lock on his forehead. āNo, Iāve killed innocents. A lot. Me ān Tommy, beforeā¦ and protectān Ellieā¦ā
You thought about this for a while, a chill of cold reminiscent of when he first came to you makes you shiver, but when you look at him, you donāt feel the repulsion you know he expects. āYou kill children?ā
āNo.ā He says firmly, a glimmer of sadness crossing his eyes. You didnāt think so, knowing he knew what that loss was. āBut that donāt make it much better.ā
āDid rape anyone? Kill people for fun? Get off on it?āĀ
Disgust mares his features. āNo, never.ā
You nod. āYou kill any innocent people since coming to Jackson? Settling here?ā
Again, a shake of his head doesnāt knock loose a single hair. āNo, but before-ā
āIām not worried about before.ā You voice is soft, and you tentatively reach a hand out to caress his face. His skin was soft, softer than a man in his 50ās would be, but thatās what happens when you arenāt fully there. āI donāt care about that. Really, I donāt. You deserve a second chance just as much as anyone does. The world out there-ā You vaguely whisk your hand around. āDoes things to us. As far as Iām concerned, as long as youāre not a rapist, didnāt kill kids, not one of those really, really bad peopleā¦ I think you deserve to leave that all outside the gates of Jackson.ā
His eyes soften, affection pooling with something more. āThank you, darlān I mean it. I wasnāt always forgiven in that life. Nice to know someone does in this one,ā
Your heart aches for him, so you try to ease his pain. āTommy forgives you, I know it. You heard how he talks about you.ā
But heās still distant. āMaybe. But maybe he just misses me. Thatās different. Besides, thereās someone I know hasnāt.ā
āEllie?ā
He nods. āSheā¦. well, we just started talkān, right before I died. Didnāt have the chance to find out if she ever would, you know? Now I never will.ā
āShe does, Joel. Itās been years, I know she does.ā
But he didnāt believe you.
*
Joelās words stuck with you, simmering in your head like the soups he helps you make. Today you were on patrol with a fairly quiet partner, so you had nothing left to do but think, think, think. Why did his words affect you so much? He was so stuck on forgiveness, even though heād never know-
Oh.
Thatās why he was trapped here, wasnāt it? Joelās ghost remained behind because he didnāt have the closure he needed. Tommy and him had made up, but Joel died not knowing if Ellie ever did. Years of estrangement for taking her from the hospital, for saving her, for lying, and he wasnāt sorry, he told you himself. But he needed Ellieās forgiveness. He needed to know Tommy didnāy hold resentment. He needed to know they were safe, that they were okay.
Joel couldnāt talk to Tommy. For some reason, you could hear him speak when Tommy was around, see him, but Tommy never reacted. Joel couldnāt even move things or create a breeze when he was aroundā¦
If Joel got what he needed, the forgiveness, the resolution he longed for, he could move on. You knew it. He was getting stronger every day, his appearance crystal clear, his touch more and more solid, less fluid than before. You wanted little more than to have him like that, as close to a real person as he could get, at your home you shared with him every single day, every hour, sleeping next to him, cooking with him, fucking himā¦ part of your mind told you that you could do it.
But that wasnāt right. Heād be little more than a housewife, a sex doll, a captive. You could keep him there, to be your only friend outside of occasionally seeing his brother, the person who knew you best, someone always there to talk because what other options did he have?Ā
That wasnāt you. The rational part won out, and your knew what you had to do.
*
Tommyās face was one of worry when you told him youād seen the ghost of his brother. Youād spilled it all out, sparing the ghost sex details, but instead of shock, he just asked you if you ere okay.
āYes! Tommy Iām fine-ā
āI dunno, youāre kinda a weird person to begin with, seeān shit wouldnāt be that new-ā
āTommy!ā You stand abruptly from his couch,Ā pulling at your hair. āIām not seeing- Iām not hallucinating him! You donāt understand, I see him, I see him every fucking day thatās why I donāt go anywhere!ā
A sympathetic look crossed his face. āHoney, maybe youāre seeing him because youāre alone every day.ā
āIāM NOT CRAZY!!ā You shout at him, and he softens.Ā
āI know, I know.ā Tommy stands. āMaybeā¦ maybe you should stay here a few days, maybe this is a yellow wallpaper situation, you gotta get fresh air, a new environment-ā he reaches for your arm but you yank it away.
āDoes the term ādonāt go golfān mean anything to you?ā
Confusion crosses his face. āNot really, why?ā
A deep breath. āHeā¦ I asked how he died, with a ouija board i made and he just said donāt go golfing. Never explained.ā
Tommyās skin paled, the freckles on his face a stark contrast against him. His face a deadly calm. āHow did you know that.ā
You canāt help but groan. āI told you, he-ā
āENOUGH GAMES!ā The sudden shout shocks you, and you step back. Tommy mustāve realized he was scaring you, so he calmed down just a bit. āIām serious. This isnāt fucking funny.ā
Tears of frustration and sadness filled your heart, begging him to believe you. You didnāt think Tommy would hurt you, but the distress he was in was clear. āI wouldnāt joke about thisā¦ he- he said it was a joke I wouldnāt get, and I donāt. Tommy please, Iām being seriousā¦ā
Then, the realization dawned on him, clear as day. He believed you. āHoly shit. Youāre telling the truthā¦ā
āI am.ā You sob. āTommy I swear Iām telling the truth. He needs help, heās trapped hereā¦ we need to help himā¦ā
He was shaking. āC-can I see him?ā
It broke your heart to say no. He can only appear to me, I thinkā¦Heās tired when you are overā¦ā
Dizzy, Tommy sits down. āHe was roundā¦ whenever I was over, wasnāt he? Thatās why I always feel so calm thereā¦ā
You nod. āHe calms me too. I donāt know how.ā You join him on the couch again. āTommy, what does don't go golfing mean?ā
His face is buried in his hands, and you think heās crying. Itās a lot, you know, itā a lot to spring on someone, especially that he canāt hear or see him still, his own brother so close and yet so far. But you were doing this for him, so that he could move on, so that he could see his Sarah in the afterlife.
When Tommy finally looked up, his face and hands were soaking wet.
āHe was killed with a golf club. We never told anyone about that.ā
*
Joel stood behind you, clear and crystalline, his body practically human. He was cold, but he brought you comfort. āSomething on your mind, darlān?ā
You donāt wanna lie to him, but you canāt tell him whatās happening, not yet. You want a few more days without this hanging over you both.
āTommy left for a few weeks. Just worried.ā You didnāt tell him he went to find Ellie, to go back to the farmhouse she lived in with Dina and see if sheās there, if Dina knows where she lives kows anything. To try and convince Ellie that this woman sheās never met his eeing her dad as a ghost and they need to help him move on. But hes gonna try.
A week later, the town was in a ruckus, Tommy returning to Jackson with the prodigal daughter, her girlfriend, and a little boy.
Turns out Ellie went back to Dina, begged for her back on hands and knees, and theyād been living alone out in the country for years raising JJ. They all looked good, healthy, happyā¦ Ellie was skeptical but she agreed to come as a favor to Tommy. Everything was planned for tomorrow, but as you lay in bed with Joel for the last time, you canāt bring yourself to tell him.
You wanted one last night.
Joel kissed you, languid and soft, his hands roamed your naked and prone body and for the first time, you noticed something. A tent in his pants. A ghost had gotten an erection for you.
āJoelā¦ā You moan, feeling him rutt against you.
āI know, I feel it too.ā His voice is husky against your ear, and chills flow throughout your body as you realize what this means. Joel was firm, his body fully here and he was hard. Joel could fuck you.
He went feral after that, yanking down your PJ shorts so fast your barely had time to lift your hips, but it didnāt matter. You spread your legs to welcome to fingers the plumged into your body, absolutly dripping for the man laid beside you. Joelās breath was hot, growling and grunting as e finger fucks you open, preparing you to take his cock for the first time.Ā
āYouāre always sāfucking wet.ā He says between sucking kisses on your neck. You didnāt care if he left hickies on you, you were just beyond ecstatic that he was strong enough to leave marks. You wanted him to be with you in some way permanently. āBeen wishān I could feel you since that first day, so sweet, so beautiful, always so ready for my touch.ā
You paw at him, groping his body and trying to just get his massive form on top of you. āNeed you.ā You beg like a needy young thing, like youād never been fucked properly before, like you needed to be filled and taken and ravaged.Ā
āI got yuh, darlānā¦ā Joel murmur, rolling over on top of you, his cock heavy- when had his clothes come off?
Knelt before your body, Joel was magnificent. His body was broad, thick, not quick as barrel chested as his brother, he held it more in the shoulders. Down his chest and stomach held scares, fat, and a trail of hair leading down, down, down to where his cock hung thick and leaking and cut. You forgot he was a ghost; he didnāt feel like one, he felt real. He felt here. Tears filled up in your eyes, and Joel leans over, his body covering yours in his cool skin.Ā
āWhatās wrong, baby?ā He asks in a gentle voice, thumbing away a stray tear. āI hope yuh aināt scaredāa me? Are yuh?ā
Youāve never been more sure of saying no in your life. āAināt scared.ā You whisper. āI justā¦ I love you so muchā¦ā It wasnāt necessarily a lie. You did love him. But that wasnāt why you were crying, not really anyway. No, you cried because this was goodbye.
Joelās eyes, black pupils swallowing the beautiful brown with lust, grew wet themselves as he smiles down at you. āI love you too. So damn much.ā
Your nails did into his back, relishing in the firm, solid feel of him. This was real. He was real. āFuck me, please. Make love to me. I want to feel you, really feel youā¦ā
Plush lips kissed you as he slid inside, a wave of calm relaxed your body, allowing you to take his considerable length inside you. He was big, stretching you open slowly while you accommodate him.Ā
āFuck, itās like youāre made for meā¦ā He moans in your ear, desperate like heās falling apart at one stroke. But he doesnāt. When he fucks you, itās with more vigor, more energy than youāve ever felt from a living person, a slap of skin from his hips meeting your thighs, his balls heavy and slapping against your ass, his fingers digging, digging digging so deep inside as you wished heād bruise you, wished heād cut you open and crawl inside so he could never leave you, two souls as one. To know and to be known at the deepest level. Souls and bodies barred to each other. Nothing left to hide.
He couldnāt do that, so as Joel slammed his cock into you, you begged for something else. āMark me.ā You whimper, getting a reaction of confusion from your lover, so you take his hand and dig his nails into your tender hips. āI need to know this is real. All of it.ā The tears come again when you can see him want to deny you. āThis isnāt forever, you know this canāt before but I- Joel I need something to be forever! We canāt get married, you canāt leave me pictures or presents or- or kids, Joel, I need to be able to remember you.ā
His movements slow. āOh, pretty babyā¦ā He murmurs lowly. āIāll give anything if it means you canāt forget me.ā he kisses you deeply, sucking in your tongue and before he pulls away he nips your lip. āTell me to stop if itās too much.ā
But nothing of Joel could be too much.
A shape gasp as he dug into you, left hand bracing himself on the bed as he never stopped fucking you, rolls of pleasure coured your body like it had tha first night, swirling over your clit and dragging you screaming to the edge. And screaming you were.
āDonāt stop! Donāt stop!ā You shout so loud you donāt care who hears you. Half the town thinks youāre fucking Tommy anyway. Donāt stop fucking you, donāt stop marking you, donāt, donāt, donāt go.
You could keep him to yourself. Tell Ellie and Tommy you lied, or that he went away and you canāt see him any more. Anything so that he doesnāt get what he needs, that he stays with you forever.
Heās impossibly deep inside, but in your leaking, dripping channel and into your hip. The cut of his nails goes further than they should go, but you donāt question it. Instead, you focus on the feeling of him marking your flesh, of him making your insides as his as he cums deep in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him as your draw out whatever heās filling you with, you donāt care. Itās him.Ā
āMore, moreā You cry into his shoulder, but heās already slowing his thrusts.
āIām as deep as I can go, babyā¦ā He stays bottomed out inside you, but his hands withdrawal from your side as you come down. His bloody hand cups your face, dripping with your own warmth.
You sob against his cold skin, Joel wrapping you into a hug as the overwhelming emotion of what happened floods you, and itās too much. You need more, but itās not him deeper, not him scaring you, and not him filling you up.
Itās more time.
*
You wake up with blood on your face and your wounds cleaned and bandaged, with Joelās body gone, as it usually is in the morning. It took until the afternoon for him to appear again.
āSorry baby.ā He apoligized, hugging you. āI dunno why I canāt control coming better.ā He poked your side, and you knew he meant a double entendre but you didnāt have it in you to laugh.
āItās okay. Last night used a lot. You probably needed to rest.ā
āYeahā¦ā He touched the bandage heād put on your hip with soft intent. āHow you feelān bout this?ā
You smile. āGreat. But Joelā¦ā You turn around to face him, his face frowning with worry. āI gotta tell you somethingā¦ I told Tommy about youā¦ā Before he has a chance to ask questions, you spill it out. āAnd he went and found Ellie, sheās hear. I thinkā¦ I think if you reconcile with her, with Tommy, once the air is clearedā¦ you can move on.ā
For a long moment, he stares at you, unmoving, unblinking, frozen as the picture that used to hang on your door. Then he speaks. āYou knowā¦ that means I canāt see you again, right.ā
Damn the tears the spring forth, damn the well of emotions overflowing your body, a trickle of a leak in the damn, then it cracks, and it all breaks. You begin to sob in his arms. āI know, I knowā¦ but itās not right for me to keep you here! You- you said itās dark, and youāre scared.ā
āI aināt scared when Iām with youā¦ā
āBut you wonāt always be with me! I need to help you move on! Itās unnatural, itās wrong, you need to be with Sarah, you need to be at peace knowing Sarah and Tommy love you, that they forgive you!ā
He lets you cry, holding you close in strong arms as he realized what was happening. Heād see Ellie again. You were willing to give him up just so he could get his happy end.
His voice in your ear.
āEllie.ā
*
She was skeptical, understandingly. Pretty, short, in her 20ās with brown hair cropped into a pixie and looking annoyed. She sat next to Tommy with her arms crossed and practically glaring at you.Ā
āIām gonna need more proof than some golf joke.ā
āIt was enough to get you here, wasnāt it?ā
She rolled her eyes. āI owed Tommy for every fucking time he saved my damn life, thatās why Iām here.ā She turned to her uncle. āWeāre even, by the way.ā
āSure as shit are.ā He sighs, then looks at you. āHe here?āĀ
You gesture to the couch. āYeah heās sitting right- hey!ā
Ellie swung her hand over where you said Joel was sitting, doing nothing but annoying Joel who tried in vein to smack her away, telling her to cut the shit.
āI donāt fucking feel anything.ā
āThatās not how it works Ellie!ā Tommy flicked her arm. āRelax.ā
With a huff, she crossed her arms again. āFine.ā
Tommy looked to you, then to Joel, then back to you. āTell her something only Joel would know.ā
When you turn to Joel, heās looking at Ellie with sadness. She looks different, a lot older, yet sheās still Ellie to him. He doesnāt turn to you. āDavid.ā He instructs, and you turn to her.
āDo you know a David?ā And suddenly her skin blanches. Ever so slightly, sheās shaking, but then she turns to Tommy. āDid Joel fucking telling you that!?ā
From beyond Tommyās protests that he doesnāt know who Daivid is, did she mean David Turner, who was a local here, or David Sanchez, who died last month in a raid? Joel insists heād never tell that to anyone, but Ellie canāt hear him.
You try to calm them. āHe says he was someone you met after leaving Jackson the first time, that you did the right thing by killing him.ā
āYeah! I fucking did!ā
āHe says if he goes to hell, David is the first person heās finding.ā
She stops, information processing in her head that there was no way Joel wold have told whoever David was to Tommy. āDavid tried to rape me when I was 14.ā She grits out. āI stabbed him to death and let his body burn up.ā
Tommy turns to her, horrified but doesnāt speak.
You nod. āGood.ā
And then, she sinks into the couch. āWhenever I had nightmaresā¦ Joel always told me David was the first person heād find in hell. He was convinced he was going there.ā
You chuckle. Yeah that sounds like Joel. āHe loves you both very, very muchā¦ and the uncertainty is whatās keeping him here. I need to help him move on.āĀ
āSo what? Youāre some sort of fucking medium?ā
āNo, Iāve never had anything like this happen before butā¦ He started appearing to me. Little touches, cold spots, breezesā¦ then he started moving things, hearing his voiceā¦. Now I can see him, heās as clear as you are, honestly.ā
Tommy speaks now. āHeās gotta know-ā He tries to turn to where you said Joel was, but you can tell heās struggling to talk to a brown cushion. āYou gotta know we love you, donāt know? How can you doubt that?ā
āTell him I do. But tell himā¦ I donāt know if he forgives me.ā
āJoel knows you both love him, but thatās not why heās stuck. He needs to know you forgive him.ā
Ellie is staring sone faced at a wall, but Tommy is looking down at his hands now, this seems easier. āJoelā¦ those things we didā¦ itās been a long time. I was angry, yeah, I fucking hated you for a while butā¦ā He shakes his head, silver streaks shimmering in the deep brown of his hair. āI got Walker now andā¦ after he was born man, I think I got it. The things we did to surviveā¦ you were willing to do some of the worst shit out there, damning your own soul to save me. Iād do the same for my kid, if I needed to.ā
āBut I shouldnāt have made you do any of it, Tommy.ā
āJoel feels bad that he made you participate.ā
āYou didnāt make me do fuckān shit, brother. I was a grown ass man, even if you still thought of me as a reckless teenager. I made my choices, and I understand why you made yours. You lost your baby, I know damn well you couldnāt take loseān your brother either. I forgive you, but you also gotta forgive yourself, brother.ā
Ellie pipes up. āI get it too, Joel. I told you that night, I didnāt know if I could forgive youā¦ telling you I couldnātā¦ butā¦ UUGHHHH!ā She slumps down, covering her face. āJoel I was angry! I was angry and I was stupid but I was a teenager! I was just- just a kid who had these grand schemes of changing the world! But we donāt know if it couldāve worked. But I forgive you, Joel. I was always gonna forgive you, even before you went and fucking left me! I donāt know why I had to do that, why i treated you the way I did-ā
āYou were a teenager, thatās normal-ā
āBut I think about it, every single day I think about it and what I should've said and done better but I get it now. I donāt know what youāve been told but I got my kid now. I know youāre old man brain is probably trying to work out how two women had a baby-ā
Joel laughs, and so does Ellie.
āBut itās Jesseās. Dina got pregnant before Jesse and her broke up and heā¦ he died. But Iāve been raising him with her the last few yearsā¦ She took me backā¦ You ask me on the porch that night if she treats me good and Joelā¦ā Ellie sighs, smiling. āShe really does.ā
āTell āer Iām glad. That I always liked her, and I wanna know the kids name.ā
āJoel says he doesnāt blame you for being mad at him, or how you talked to him. He says heās glad Dina and you are happy. Whatās the babies name?ā
Ellie grins, pride in her eyes. āThe baby is almost 4 now. His name is JJ. Jesse Joel.ā
Tear fill up Joelās eyes, fatherly love overwhelming him and for a moment, you think how sweet this is, how nice. Then you notice heās not as clear as he was before.
āJoel!ā You rush to his side and take his hand, kneeling at the couch. āJoel, I think it workedā¦ youāre fadingā¦ā You try to grip his hand, as if holding on tighter would keep him here with you, keep him ground in this world. Without him, you werenāt sure what youād do with your life, who youād talk to or confide inā¦. But you knew, you knew above all youād miss him. There would never be another Joel.
āPlease-ā He sounds desperate now, scared even. āOne more time, tell them I love them, I just- I love them so much fucking much.ā
Through your sobs, you relay the message. āHe needs you to know how much he loves you guys. He talks about you all the time, he- youāre everything to him.ā You see Ellie and Tommy holding hands, Ellie crying and Tommy looking close.Ā
āWe love you, Joel. All of us.ā Ellie says, to nowhere in particular.
āAnd the kids. Walker and- fuck I aināt never met JJ but I love him too. If, if thereās a heaven Iām gonnaā¦ā His words start to fade, but you know what heās saying. His strength is going fast, Joel letting go and passing on, but even still his body shook. He was scared. If there was a heaven, Joel was going, but he wasnāt sure about that.
āHe says he loves Walker and JJ, heās gonna watch over them in heavenā
That breaks Tommy, who lets the tears come now as he takes your hand too, squeezing it tight.
You look up at your lover. āI love you, Joel. Iām always gonna love you, always gonna remember you. Itās gonna be okay, I promise you. Weāre gonna be alright, weāre doing okay. You can let go now. Itās okay to let go. Thereās no one left you need to protect.. weāre safe.ā
Even though heās fading away Joel looks into your eyes. He canāt speak, his strength fading, but itās all communicated through those eyes that say so much. One last time, he cups your cheek, and the hand that isnāt holding Tommyās brushes over the cold fingers, feeling liquid and unstable again.Ā Thereās fear in his eyes, mixed with that tender love, but then something changes in him.
Joel looks forward, past you, Tommy and Ellie and onto something else, something more. He smiles. āI see herā
All his fear his gone, and his face is peaceful.
For the final time, a breeze rustles your hair, and Tommy and Ellie see it.
Joel is gone, and all you can do is sob into his couch.
*
When it finally subsides you feel numb. Ellie and Tommy have joined you on the floor, the three of you talking about the experience you shared together, something no one will ever believe.Ā
āHis last words were, āāI see herā....ā
Tommy whispers Sarahās name, and you nod.Ā
āHeās with her now. Heās a peace. I know a better place is a cliche, butā¦ā Ellie wipes her tears. āWe all know how much he missed her.ā
Everyone nods solemnly, and for a while, you stay there, talking about Joel, memories and his jokes and his cooking. It was nice to share this secret with other, and suddenly you felt less alone in it. They believed your stories of the ghost in your walls, and they liked hearing the knew things he told you. You liked learning more of his past.
Eventually, everyone had to get back to their families. You were alone, but you didnāt feel lovely. Something had shifted, a closeness to Ellie and Tommy that didnāt scare you the way human connection used to. Maybe you would go to the mess hall, see some movies. Your patrol partner was quiet, but nice. Tommy was still around, and Ellie and Dina decided to pack up their things and return, wanting JJ to have friends. It was going to be okay, and as the sun set on the day, somehow you felt it rise on your life. A new, beautiful world of opportunities for friendship and love was out there.
You stared in the mirror, butt naked, feeling strangely open and vulnerable despite being alone for the first time in months.
It all felt surreal, something that seemed impossible, that went against every logical explanation.
But when you took off the bandage on your hip to change it, there they were, clear as day. 4 crescent fingernail cuts deep into your skin, something that would scar forever.
No matter what happened, youād always carry these with you, proof that Joel and your love for him was real.
I cried pretty good writing tht end, knowing its my goodbye. I want yall to know I love each and every reader so so so so much. You mean the world to me. every kind word lives on in me forever. I hope you'll stay for my other writing, but if not, thats okay! I wih all of you the best.
Please be kinder to each other. the fanfic writers do this for free, they do not deserve the things they've experienced here. It is a beautiful world out there.
Trust me, it feels way better to send anon love rather than anon hate. I wont be writing tlou for a minute but ill return with a tommy series !!!!
follow @romana-after-dark for dark content and @riley-blue-byron for upcoming original works!
So long, and thanks for all the fish <3
reblogs are greatly appriciated, would make a nice send off <3
@princessanglophile @missladym1981 @goodwithcheese @dancinglotusbud @glitterymanboy @koshkaj-blog @sixhours @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @fandxmslxt69 @miraclesabound
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#the last of us hbo#tlou 2#tlou 2 spoilers#tlou spoilers#ghost joel#joel#joel and ellie#ellie williams#joel and tommy#tommy miller#joel smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fanfic#post tlou#jackson joel#ghost!joel#joel miller one shit#halloween#halloween fic#joel miller halloween
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Just In Time
This is an Evan Buckley imagine, based on a request by anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.
Taglist:Ā @justagirlthatlovedtoreadĀ @musicisthewayĀ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187Ā @luulaĀ @missdreamofendlessĀ @bradleybeachbabeĀ @woderfulkawaiiĀ Ā @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: While Buck is at work during a storm, (Y/n) goes to spend the day with Athena. And subsequently ends up going into labour.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Y/n) slumped her left arm on the kitchen counter and turned the kitchen stool to the side when she heard loud footsteps approaching. Her eyes set on her husband and she did a quick sweep up and down his frame and bit down on the corner of her lip.
"You're leaving me?" Her lips curved into a pout and her head tilted to the side, causing Evan's heart to soften yet speed up at the same time.
He jogged down the last of the stairs and advanced across the apartment towards her with his arms stretched out in front of him.
As soon as he was within reach, Evan clamped his hands down on (Y/n)'s hips and moved to stand between her legs. He felt her knees pressing into his hips and her arms looped around his torso while her chin pressed into his chest so she could look up at him.
"Sorry baby, I gotta go to work." Evan leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss as his hands gave her hips a loving squeeze.
If he had the choice, he would stay home with her. Somehow, it didn't feel the same going to work without (Y/n) being there with him.
Evan was used to his wife working alongside him. He was so used to turning to her when he had a patient that needed transporting to the hospital and Evan loved those times when he got to ride in the ambulance and see (Y/n) at work as a paramedic.
The 118 really was a family-run unit, with (Y/n) being both Bobby's daughter and Evan's wife.
But she was on maternity leave now.
"Hmm, that's not fair, leaving me all alone." (Y/n) tilted her head down so she could press her face into his shirt and breathe in his scent and cologne.
(Y/n) didn't like being home alone, she didn't know what to do with herself and if Evan wasn't here to monitor her, she seemed to end up doing a lot more than she should recently.
"Sorry baby." He pecked the top of her head and rested his chin on her head for a few moments while he grazed his fingers up and down her side. "Promise me you're not gonna go out today, there's a storm and the last thing I need is a call saying you've had an accident or got stuck in this weather."
Evan panicked, he was a worrier by heart. But he knew his wife like the back of his hand. He knew she was becoming restless and didn't know what to do with herself when the nursery was already set up and they had everything ready for when their boy arrived. He didn't want (Y/n) going out when the storm was already rolling in and making itself known. Evan couldn't deal with that kind of phone call today.
He was on a double shift, he wouldn't be home until tomorrow afternoon and he dreaded to think what (Y/n) would get up to in that time.
"We get bored-"
"And I get worried. Please?"
A groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she looked up at Evan, feeling a shiver roll down her spine when she was met with his stern expression. Her hands grazed up and down his back and she leaned back on the bar stool until she was leant against the kitchen counter.
"Can you drop me at mums then? So I don't go crazy sitting on my own in here."
She watched Evan's expression soften into a warm smile and he nodded, pecking her temple again before he looked down at his watch.
If he was leaving her, (Y/n) would rather go somewhere and be with family so she wasn't alone. And she knew Athena wasn't at work today. They could have a catch up or watch some movies and just spend the day together. It would only be two weeks until (Y/n)'s due date and then there would be a baby in the mix, stealing all the attention.
(Y/n) and Evan had only been married three months before (Y/n) announced she was pregnant. As thrilled as everyone had been, they also took it as an opportunity to tease Evan. Telling him he didn't waste much time or asking if it was a shotgun wedding. The whole team loved to wind him up, but he didn't care.
He had his girl and now they were having a baby, Evan was going to be the happiest man at the station.
"Sure. Come on then, baby."
Evan slowly walked back so he was no longer stood between her legs and he held his hands out for her. He took her hands and helped (Y/n) slide down off the kitchen stool. He turned, about to walk towards the hall but he stopped when (Y/n) latched her fingers around his wrist and gave a sharp tug.
She pulled his arm close and pressed his hand against the side of her stomach so he could feel the baby wriggling. The movement made Evan's lips quirk into a lopsided smile and he brushed his thumb across her skin, waiting for another movement or a kick in his direction.
"Someone's happy today." He murmured softly and leaned down so he could press a kiss to her stomach.
(Y/n) held onto Evan's hand and followed him into the hall and she grinned, leaning against his back and his arm as she found her shoes. Evan had recently become her leaning post when she found it harder to lean over to bend down. It was why (Y/n) had gotten a pair of flat shoes that were easy to slip on and off so she didn't have to bend or pull them on.
She slipped her phone in her bag and hooked it on her shoulder, but both hands moved to grab the cabinet in front of her and she took a sharp breath when her back twinged.
"Okay?"
"My back twinged," Her fingers dug into the cabinet and her upper body arched forward to see if it would relieve the sudden twinge in her lower spine.
Her lips curved into a tight smile when she felt Evan's hand move along her back in slow, deep circles that did something for the pain and made her feel a little better.
"Maybe it's a sign you should take it easy," Evan murmured into the top of her hair. His hand continued to move along her back and his other hand moved to hold her arm for added support. He waited patiently for (Y/n) to take a deep breath and lean off the counter again but he could see the pain flicker across her face when she straightened up.
"It's a sign your son is a menace."
"Oh, so he's mine now, not ours?"
(Y/n) ignored his comment and tilted her head back to look up at Evan with a pleading glimmer in her eyes. "Tell him to be good?" She moved Evan's hand from her back to the lower side of her stomach and she waited as Evan leaned down to hover his lips over her bump.
"Behave, mister. Or else."
***
A crack of thunder broke through the sky and rattled the windows and the patio doors until it sounded like they were going to shatter. The rain beat down on the patio outside and a steady stream trickled over the stones and down onto the grass that was going to be flooded, come tomorrow morning.
(Y/n) shuddered at the thought of going out in this weather.
Her eyes glanced over at the clock on the kitchen wall. Seven o'clock. She had been here all afternoon and thankfully, the afternoon had gone by in a flash with Athena. They ate tea together, watched some movies and went through a few magazines and sorted through some things the station had got for when the baby arrived.
(Y/n) finished making two cups of hot chocolate and held one in each hand, but her eyes focused on staring out the kitchen window when she turned around. It looked like it was midnight with how black and dead the sky looked and all the white flashes rippling across the sky. The sheets of rain pouring down from the heavens didn't look much better, either.
She took slow steps back through to the living room but ended up shuffling her feet to see if it would dull the aching in her back and her lower stomach. The baby had shifted around again and now he was weighing heavy on (Y/n)'s abdomen to the point it was hurting every now and then.
"Thank you," Athena murmured as she placed down a bag of baby clothes near the coffee table and took her seat on the sofa.
Her hand moved to (Y/n)'s lower back and she watched cautiously as (Y/n) slowly sat down with a wince. She stayed sitting upright instead of slouching back into the sofa like before to see if it would do anything to help her discomfort.
"Well, I think you'll be spending the night with me, hun."
"Is that okay?"
"Oh, it's more than okay, you keep me company and I've had my instructions from Buck. We're not to go out in this weather, he said he'd come pick you up after work. And your dad would have my head if we drove out in this storm."
Athena didn't have a problem with (Y/n) staying over, it was the reason why they had the spare room here for friends and family to stay over. Although there was a lot of things packed into the spare room. Bobby was getting ready for his first grandchild and he was already planning ahead to the weekends when he could have his grandson stay over with them.
Leaning forward, (Y/n) took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked beyond the tv at the back garden. They hadn't drawn the blinds yet as both women rather liked watching the storm take hold and seeing the rain splatter down on the glass and sprinkle across the garden.
She looked over at the tv when Athena started searching for a new movie to watch, but she had to set down her mug when her stomach clenched. Her hand drifted beneath her shirt and she covered her grimace by biting down on her bottom lip.
When the baby started wriggling and hurting like this, it was when (Y/n) wished Evan was home with her. He had a knack for distracting her or giving a massage and the baby seemed to love the sound of Evan's voice.
"You okay?"
"Hm, he keeps moving." (Y/n) straightened up to click her spine back into place. And when she noticed Athena looking at her stomach, she smiled and gently took her hand, pressing it to the base of her abdomen.
They shared a smile between them and Athena danced her fingertips along (Y/n)'s stomach for a few moments before she turned to reach for the bag she brought in. She placed it on the floor between them so they could go through the garments together and decide which ones (Y/n) wanted.
It had been lovely that from the moment they told the team, everyone was overjoyed and wanted to be involved. (Y/n) and Evan got so many baby clothes and gifts from everyone that they had items coming out their ears now.
They started going through some items and had a movie on in the background, but (Y/n) could barely pay attention to anything.
Everything hurt.
Her back was twinging and felt like each column of her spine had weights pressed down on it like the bone was about to break. Her stomach was weighing heavy and every time she felt a twinge, she was starting to feel sick.
Maybe she needed to try and relax and get comfy to see if dozing off would take away the pain. God knows she had fallen asleep during enough movie nights with Evan this last month.
She heard Athena mutter something about finding them some snacks and she nodded, forcing herself to smile as she watched Athena head towards the kitchen. But (Y/n) moved her hand back to her stomach and started making slow circles beneath her shirt to see if it would help at all.
But then she felt it. A steady trickle of water between her thighs and a very sharp, tightening pain in her pelvis.
"Mumā¦ ooh, mum!"
"Honey, what's wrong?" Athena set down the bag of goodies on the kitchen side and rushed back into the living room, skidding on the rug on the way.
She wedged herself between the arm of the sofa and the coffee table and knelt down at (Y/n)'s side. She placed one hand on (Y/n)'s knee and the other on her back, wondering if she had suddenly got back pains. Evan mentioned earlier that she had been having pains all week but that was normal.
(Y/n) couldn't bring herself to say anything. She just looked between her parted thighs, the floor, and Athena until her stepmum suddenly got the message and realised what had happened.
Her waters had broken. The pains she had been having all day were actually contractions. She was going into labour during a storm, without Evan here by her side like he promised to be.
"Okayā¦ this is okay, give me a minute I'll go and call Buck."
Athena wasn't stupid. This was not the weather to be driving her daughter down to the materntiy ward at the hospital. She was a good driver, she was safe, she had to be since she was a seargent in the police. But that didn't mean Athena had been trained to drive during storms. It was too dangerous and if she crashed, they might not get help in time. Evan and Bobby might not find them or know what was going on if they crashed.
Staying here and getting help to come to them was by far the better and safer option and they both silently agreed on this.
Shuffling back a little, (Y/n) slumped back into the sofa and let herself sink into the cushions. She moved both her hands to cradle her stomach and began glaring daggers into her bump towards her baby. Why was he choosing to be born now? Why did he think this was a good time? It was two weeks early, right in the middle of a storm. Without Evan.
(Y/n) was expecting to go into labour any time from next week. Evan was supposed to be on shorter shifts as of next week so if this happened and he wasn't home, he could easily find his way back to (Y/n) and be there for her.
Her eyes looked up at Athena as she stood beside the sofa, one hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder and the other holding her phone to her ear.
Evan didn't answer.
"Buck, call me back please. (Y/n)'s gone into labour." She hung up after leaving a message and tried to ring Bobby instead.
He didn't answer either.
"Bobby, honey you and Buck need to come home when you get this message. (Y/n)'s with me and she's gone into labour. Call me."
Tears began to trace down (Y/n)'s face. She was afraid of this, it was her worst nightmare coming true. She knew the job was hectic and unpredictable, but she wanted Evan to be home when she went into labour, not out at work. She didn't want to be doing this by herself. Her only saving grace was she had decided to come here to be with Athena. She wouldn't have been able to do this on her own, at home.
Her eyes focused on Athena as she tried to smile and dialled for the emergency services instead. They would need to take (Y/n) to hospital soon and Athena wouldn't be able to do that. She would need medical help too if they had to wait a while for an ambulance to arrive.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"This is seargent Grant, I need an ambulance to my address. My daughter's gone into labour and she's thirty-eight weeks pregnant."
"How advanced is labour?"
"Her water just broke."
"Then can you keep her comfortable? With the storm, we have a backlog of emergencies and limited teams to dispatch. The current wait is almost two hours."
Panic struck a cord in Athena's chest and her hand tightened around (Y/n)'s shoulder. What were they supposed to do? Was Athena supposed to deliver her own grandson because they couldn't put this as a priority call? This was a woman going into labour, anything could happen or go wrong, they needed help and transport to the hospital.
"Make this a priority." Was Athena's response. They could wait a while, they might be able to wait an hour, but they needed help.
"Mum?" (Y/n) tilted her head back on the sofa and looked up at Athena. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what the dispatcher was saying. Why couldn't Maddie have been on shift today and answered their call? She could have talked them through this and got through to the team and sorted everything out. Maddie was calm during a crisis.
"Help will be here soon, honey."
They needed the team. They needed Evan and Bobby.
***
Tears traced down (Y/n)'s face almost as badly as the storm raging outside. Her hands clenched down on the back of the armchair and when a contraction tore through her stomach, she bit down on her lip so hard she drew blood. Her shaking arms pressed down on the chair and she leaned forward, burrowing her face into her arms.
Her back arched out and her legs began to shake from how tense they were straining to keep herself upright.
She felt Athena's hand rub up and down her back, but it wasn't the touch she wanted. It wasn't Evan. The thought made her tears fall faster and a lump formed in her throat. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and let out a scream when another pain tore her pelvis to shreds.
With a muffled scream, (Y/n) leaned over the back of the chair and scrambled around until she found her phone. She wasn't doing this alone. She wasn't having this baby without Evan. Someone was going to get the word through to him that he needed to come home. Now.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I n- I need you to contact the 118." She gruffed, breathing through clenched teeth as her head started to go fuzzy.
"I'm sorry?"
"LAFD 118, get Buckley on the line- oow!" (Y/n) dug her nails so tightly into her phone she worried she was going to crack the screen. Her forehead pressed back down into the armchair while Athena moved her hands to hold her shoulders.
"Miss, what's your name and the nature of your emergency-"
"Get Buckley!" (Y/n) all but screamed before she held the phone to her left to try and get Athena to make the man understand.
She needed Evan. She knew dispatch could get on the radio frequency and contact the team because clearly they were out on a call. None of the team were answering their phones and (Y/n) was getting closer and closer to giving birth. If she had to do this without Evan she was never going to get over it. She wanted him here.
"Sir, you need to contact the 118 fire station and tell them that firefighter Buckley's wife is in labour. We called over an hour ago and we still haven't received any medical help. Tell Mr Buckley and Captain Nash the situation, now."
"Dispatch to Captain Nash?"
"Go ahead dispatch." Bobby gripped the radio on his shoulder but he could barely feel his fingers despite the thick gloves he was wearing. The cold from the storm was seeping into his bones by now and the rain had thoroughly soaked through his uniform to the point he felt like he was swimming.
"Is Buckley with you?"
A frown pulled on Bobby's face and he waved his hand over at Evan, shouting his name through the howling wind that was screaming at them all to go home.
"I have Buckley with me, what's the problem dispatch?" He wasn't sure why he needed his son in law here for whatever message they were about to receive. But something deep in his gut told him this wasn't going to be for anything good.
"We have Mr Buckley's wife on the line, she says she's in labour."
All the blood drained down to Evan's toes and his eyes locked with Bobby but neither of them could find words.
He shouldn't have come on shift this afternoon. He shouldn't have left (Y/n) at all this week to go to work, he should have stayed with her. He knew she hadn't seemed herself this morning when he dropped her off at Athena's. Thank God he took her there and didn't leave her home alone.
"Is she okay? Is she at the hospital?!" Evan shouted down the radio and leaned as close as he could to try and listen for the crackling response. The storm was creating a vivid distraction, he could barely see and now he could barely hear the dispatcher.
"We haven't managed to get a unit to her address yet-"
"Then don't. We're on our way."
"Oh God, mumā¦" (Y/n) lowered herself down to her knees and meshed her face into the back of the chair. Her fingers were about to dig through the top of the chair and her knees began to quake and cause friction against the carpet.
She barely managed to lift her head up to look to the side when she heard footsteps, but a sob bubbled up at the back of her throat when she looked over at Athena.
She was hurrying back into the living room with a bowl of hot water. There were towels, a few old blankets, gloves and scissors on the coffee table and the sight made (Y/n) want to be sick. She couldn't do this. She couldn't give birth here, at her parent's home, in the middle of a raging hurricane storm. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
"Okay honey, I need to check how far along you are-"
"No, I c- I can'tā¦ hospital. We have t-to go," Her lips rolled together as she tilted her head back to look up at Athena with pleading eyes.
"Let me see how far dilated you are, then we can worry about the team tranferring you. This is just a precaution, okay honey?" Athena needed to be prepared. She had a gut feeling that (Y/n) had been in labour for a few hours now. The constant back pain all day and the twinges and pains she had been having which she could have mistook for general pains instead of the beginning of labour.
She might be too far dilated for anyone to move her once help arrived. The 118 were leaving their latest call and diverting straight over here which meant Evan knew what was happening. And he would be here soon for the birth of his son. But Athena needed to know if she had to step in or if they would have enough time to get her in the ambulance and down to the hospital.
Shifting to the right, (Y/n) let Athena grip her arms and carefully help her up to her feet. She held onto Athena's shoulders and tucked her chin down into her chest, wheezing through crackling breaths when another contraction hit.
Her hands gripped the arm of the sofa and she doubled over, arching her lower back out.
A strangled wheeze spluttered through her lips and she tried not to cry out while Athena laid a few blankets over the sofa.
When she sat down, (Y/n) slumped down as much as she could until her thighs were barely on the sofa and she felt like she was going to slide right down to the floor. Her hands pressed into the sofa to steady herself and she let her head tilt back into the cushion.
Her lips formed a broken smile and she huffed, feeling a laugh mixing in with her broken cry.
"You're s-supposed to be my- my birthing partner, not my midwife."
Athena's smile made her heart soften somewhat, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy and angry at the same time. This wasn't fair. She was supposed to go into labour at home with Evan right next to her. They were meant to ring Bobby and Athena, all meet at the hospital and she wanted Athena and Evan in the room with her.
But not like this. Athena wasn't supposed to be acting as midwife, delivering her baby during a storm with no help and no Evan in sight.
"And why can't I be both, at least until help arrives?" Athena patted (Y/n)'s knee, but when she turned around and grabbed a pair of gloves from the table, (Y/n) tensed up.
"Mum-"
"Honey, your dilated already, but it's okay. Buck will be right through that door in no time."
She grimaced and sank back on her heels when (Y/n) screamed, and not from the pain. Her hands moved to her stomach and she pressed down like she was trying to keep the baby right where he was and prevent him from moving.
She wasn't doing this without Evan. He had to be here, this was the part he was most excited about. Evan had been expecting to be with (Y/n) when she got the first pains and when her water broke. He thought he would be driving her to the hospital, not travelling through the rain to reach her in time.
Another scream broke past (Y/n)'s lips and she shrank back into the sofa when a horrible bang shot through the house.
The front door swung so far that the door handle crashed into the wall and created a dent in the plaster. Evan planted his hand down on the door to prevent it from swinging back at him and he barged inside, followed swiftly by his father in law.
"Baby?!"
"LAFD!" Bobby called out at the same time, his breathing ragged and a trace of a smile on his lips as the team followed him inside his home.
Evan shook his head from side to side and he dragged a hand over his eyes and nose, clearing away the sheen of water cascading down his face, blocking his vision.
"Evan- oow, Evan!"
Flinging himself around the corner, Evan skidded on the carpet and catapulted over to the sofa wedged in the corner of the room beside the fireplace. He practically jumped down on the sofa, bashing his shoulder into the back frame which sent a jolt running down to his fingertips.
"I- are we- I haven't missed it?!" Terror and dread flooded his voice as he shed his gloves so he could take (Y/n)'s hand in his.
"You're just in time. Where's Hen? She's too far gone to move her, this baby's coming now." Athena waved her hand towards the top of the stairs where Hen, Chimney and Eddie were following inside with medic bags and a gurney between them. They slammed the door shut, keeping out the raging storm that sent frozen chills throughout the air and had them all shivering at the temperature change.
"Thank fuck! Oh baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
When Evan leaned across and pressed his frozen lips to her temple, (Y/n) cried out and reeled back as his helmet smashed into the top of her head.
"Evan." She snapped, giving his helmet a rough shove and she dragged her eyes up and down his overalls. She could feel the rain seeping into her shirt and soaking through the blanket laid out on the sofa beneath them.
"Oh," A sheepish smile pulled at his lips and he wrenched up from the sofa, tossing his helmet down to the floor. The helmet had saved him from getting his head caved in outside from the storm.
His arms flung out behind him and he tore off his overcoat and unhooked his suspenders. In one fell swoop, he shoved down his overalls that were drenched through and through and stumbled out of them so he was in his cotton shirt and trousers. He kicked his uniform to the side, grateful when Bobby moved them out the way as he shed his own jacket and helmet now they were inside.
His trousers and shirt were damp, they were almost as drenched as his overalls, but he was at least a bit dryer like this and a lot more comfortable. Once he shed his second skin, Evan slumped back down on the sofa.
He curled one leg up beneath him and shuffled across until he could loop his left arm around the back of (Y/n)'s shoulders. Her head fell on his shoulder so he could feel each harsh, gasping breath she took fan against his neck. And he held his right hand out in front of her so (Y/n) could put his fist in her grip and cling tightly to him.
"Hen, she's crowning." Athena snapped off her gloves and moved to sit on (Y/n)'s other side on the sofa so Hen could take her place.
"I leave you for one day and look what you doā¦ trying to have him without me, hm?" Evan muttered the words quietly against her temple and he ran his hand up and down her arm.
He felt (Y/n) try to laugh but she broke off into a groan when her stomach tightened. She shifted her weight from her heels to her toes to try and steady herself so she didn't slump forward, but all she wanted to do was crumple down to the floor and fold in on herself.
"I thought y-you wouldn't make it," (Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned further into Evan, pulling his hand up to her chest as she screamed.
"I know, I know baby but I'm here now. We're all here,"
"Really big push (Y/n), and the head will be born." Hen snapped on a pair of gloves, shed her jacket and helmet and grabbed one of the towels from the table. She laid it over her lap as she knelt down on the floor. She could feel Bobby hovering on her left near Evan while Chimney and Eddie hung back at the stairs. They didn't want to overpower (Y/n) and flood her with people when that would be the last thing she needed.
"Here we go," Evan murmured into her hair, giving her hand a squeeze, although he could barely feel his hand anymore from how tightly she was gripping him.
The moment Hen announced the head was out, (Y/n) opened her eyes as Evan leaned forward to take a look which in turn made (Y/n) lean over a little. She kept his hand held to her chest and moved her free hand to hold his thigh, steadying herself on the edge of the sofa.
"Small pushes, panting breaths, you're almost done now (Y/n)."
(Y/n) could see stars dancing across her eyes when that last push finally worked. Her head slumped against Evan's neck and she could feel him laughing into her hair as he let go of her hand to cup the back of her neck.
"That's my girl." He spoke against her temple, brushing his thumb up and down the side of her neck as he suddenly realised he was swaying them both back and forth.
"Buck, you wanna do the honours?" Hen held out a pair of scissors after she's clamped the cord and her cheesy smile made Evan laugh.
He carefully unwound his arms from (Y/n) and eased her back into Athena's embrace who held her tight and kissed the back of her head. He shuffled to the edge of the sofa and leaned over, trying to stop his hands from shaking when he leaned down to cut the cord.
"Here's your beautiful boy." Hen praised, lifting up the wriggling newborn who had no trouble taking his first breath and using it to scream and announce his presence.
(Y/n) could feel herself shaking against Athena when her baby boy was delicately laid on her chest. She tightened the towel around him and tried to hold him as carefully as she could. His tiny fist wormed beneath the collar of her shirt and rested on her chest while his cheek pressed down beneath her shoulder.
Her eyes sparkled when Evan's hand curled on top of her own, cradling the back of their son's head while he perched his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her neck and glued his chest up into her shoulder, smiling down at the little boy that brought tears to his eyes.
"Do we have a name?" Athena spoke quietly, rubbing her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm.
When she looked up, she smiled at Bobby who sat down on the arm of the sofa just behind Evan. He leaned over for a first look at his grandson, the person he had been waiting months to meet. And the sight had him smiling from ear to ear.
"Yeah, uhā¦ Bobby."
"What?" Reaching out, Bobby planted his hand on Evan's shoulder but he couldn't tear his eyes away from his grandson to look at his son in law and see what he wanted. Did he want Bobby to pick a name? Was he asking him something and he just couldn't concentrate?
"No," A wide grin broke out on Evan's face as he lifted his chin from (Y/n)'s shoulder to look behind him at his captain. "That's his name, Bobby. After you."
Tilting her head to the right, (Y/n) leaned her temple against Evan's cheek and tiredly smiled up at her dad. They had already agreed as soon as they thought about boy names that their boy would be named after Bobby. He was one of the most important people in (Y/n)'s life, he was her dad and they had been through so much together.
And he was more than just a Captain to Evan. He had become a father figure to him, he looked out for him and took him under his wing. Bobby loved and cared for Evan better than his own parents did, and that was the kind of parent Evan wanted to be to his boy.
"Youā¦ you're naming him after me?"
(Y/n) nodded and smiled back down at her little baby as she tucked herself more into Evan's side. She could see her dad grinning through his tears. He was happy. He was proud.
"Baby Bobby."
#911 imagine#imagine#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#pregnant! reader#evan buckley imagine#buck x reader#buck imagine#bobby nash#athena grant
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