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earlysunshines · 2 months ago

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fall is for falling (for you)

newjeans (unnie line) x fem!reader ; fluff!!!!!

synopsis: separate autumn themed oneshots with newjeans unnie line bc i saw a pile of leaves the other day ; 2k special!!

warnings: puuuurre fluff ; making out kinda ; nothing else that i can think of ; anything i didn't mention ; sorry to the readers that don’t have fall / experience a diff season atm it’s basically autumn for me :-P or maybe i’m getting ahead of myself it’s still like 20+ degrees

a/n: THANKYOU FOR 2K WHATTTTTT THE HELL!!! idk how to structure this and it's different from the usual looong fics LOL idk smth different for this crazy milestone THANK YOU!!! i can't believe this is real... i can’t express my gratitude enough… two gazilliontrillionbillion subscribers... in just over a year... i can't believe this... THANK YOU! enjoy :-D

ALSO new user whatsUP! :-p

kim minji - pumpkin carving

minji hears the door creak open but doesn't bother to look up; she already knows it's you. she braces herself, expecting you to burst in dramatically like always: groaning loudly, tossing your bag onto the rug, and collapsing onto the couch next to her with a tired sigh. but instead of the usual commotion, she notices the absence of a familiar thump on the couch, no tired exhale signaling your arrival.

she peeks up, only to find you grinning with a large pumpkin cradled in your arms, your eyes bright with excitement.

“what’s this?” minji asks, eyebrows furrowing as she pulls off her headphones, glancing away from her laptop.

“it’s a sweet potato, what do you think?” you tease, your tone playful as you reach over and close her laptop without hesitation, sliding it to the side. “c’mon, it’s friday. pleeease help me carve it?”

she pauses, eyes narrowing slightly as she meets your gaze. you tug gently on her wrist, the warmth of your hand lingering on her skin, and she can feel the heat rising to her cheeks. her resolve wavers, and she sighs, tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek.

“fine.”

minji doesn't regret agreeing, not when your face lights up like that. the way you smile makes her chest feel warm, a flutter she wishes she could escape.

you both set up at the kitchen counter, and she watches as you rummage around, grabbing all three knives you both own.

(there used to be just one—a medium-sized knife—but you insisted on buying more. what if there were small things to cut? or bigger things? the two of you have argued over countless trivial things you own, but somehow, she always ends up letting you have your way. maybe it’s because she secretly adores you, not as subtly as she thinks.)

you put on a playlist that jumps all over the place; first, it’s sza, and you hum along, lost in the melody. then a city pop track comes on, the abrupt change making minji raise her brows. your taste in music is unpredictable, like a rollercoaster, every song a surprise. but minji never complains. she loves how you sway to the music, singing softly as you sketch a face on the pumpkin with intense concentration.

and for a moment, she forgets about the essay she has to write, the deadline, the weekend. all she sees is you, the soft light catching the curve of your smile, and it's enough.

–

an hour passes, but it feels like only seconds.

you and minji have been carving away, scooping out the pumpkin’s insides as she grins at the way you squirm with every handful. when she slips out a soft “cute,” your face heats up instantly, but neither of you says anything more. you assume she’s talking about the face you’ve drawn on the pumpkin, but all of you hopes it’s you she’s referring to.

you sneak glances at her from time to time, drawn to the way her hair falls loose from its tie, her glasses slipping down her nose, and her tongue peeking out in concentration. you reach over to push her glasses back up, and her hand slips—almost cutting herself. you laugh, but your heart is racing inside your chest.

the kitchen table is a mess. pumpkin guts and seeds are scattered everywhere, a few strands of orange pulp hanging off the edge. you’re both standing side by side, spoons in hand, breathless from laughter.

“this is the worst pumpkin carving attempt i’ve ever seen,” minji declares, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist, unknowingly smearing pumpkin across her skin.

“you mean the best,” you counter with a grin, scooping out another stringy handful. “it’s a masterpiece in the making.”

she rolls her eyes, but you catch the smile she tries to hide. “if by ‘masterpiece,’ you mean ‘disaster,’ then yeah, sure.”

you nudge her shoulder, still laughing. “hey, it’s not that bad! we just need to… appreciate its unique aspects.”

minji laughs like a dork, you love it—bright and loud—making your chest warm. “fine, but if this pumpkin ends up looking like a troll, i’m blaming you.”

“i’ll take full responsibility,” you joke. “besides, it’s already got your eyebrows.”

she gasps in mock offense. “excuse me? my eyebrows are perfect, thank you very much.”

you snicker and turn back to the pumpkin, but your eyes keep drifting to her. she’s leaning in close, focus intent, tongue poking out slightly as she carves a crooked smile.

it’s hard to concentrate with her so close. something about this feels different—more intimate, more charged.

(and it doesn’t help that you’ve found her attractive ever since you barged into the apartment while she was moving boxes, almost knocking over her stuff.

it also doesn’t help that your crush on her has only grown. english nerds were always a little dorky and cute to you.

or maybe it’s just minji. minji, who you used to bicker with about her loud music or her sudden screams in the middle of the night over some game.

it definitely doesn’t help that you like minji a lot.)

she catches you looking at her, and for a moment, the room goes still. her eyes soften, and your cheeks heat up again. she quirks an eyebrow. “what are you staring at?”

you shrug with a grin. “nothing, sorry. you just look stupid, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks deepens, and your heart skips a beat.

minji finishes the smile on the pumpkin and steps back, hands on her hips, looking at it with a satisfied grin. “done! would you look at that…”

the pumpkin is… well, it has a crooked smile, one eye bigger than the other, and a nose that could pass for a potato. it’s perfect.

“it’s amazing,” you say, and you mean it. not because of the pumpkin, but because of how proud she looks, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed from laughing.

she turns to you, and for a moment, you’re just smiling at each other. then, almost without thinking, you reach up and brush a stray pumpkin seed from her hair.

she blinks, startled, her breath catching. “uh… thanks,” she mumbles, her cheeks darkening to a deeper pink.

“of course,” you say softly, your hand lingering in her hair a moment too long.

the air thickens, something unsaid hanging between you. you’re about to speak, but then minji’s hand is on your jawline, and her lips are on yours.

it’s short, barely a few seconds, but in the last half-second, you start to process it and try to kiss back. but before you can properly reciprocate, minji pulls away, her hand flying back like you’re something hot to the touch.

“i’m so sorry,” she stammers, looking mortified. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. it’s just you looked really good, and i couldn’t help myself, and i’m so sorry, i should’ve—”

you lean in again, cutting her off, capturing the rest of her mumbled apology with your lips. she relaxes into the kiss, her head angling slightly to make it more comfortable, her hand resting on your waist. she pushes you gently against the counter, her body close to yours.

when the need for air becomes too strong, you both pull away, breathless. you look at her—her eyes still half-lidded, cheeks flushed deep red, and you can’t help but giggle, hiding your face in your shoulder to mask how flustered you are.

you just kissed your roommate, and she kissed you back, pulled you closer by the waist, tasted like orange flavored lip balm, smelled like lavender and something floral.

“holy shit,” you mumble, half-laughing. “we just kissed.”

“y-yeah.” minji’s voice is small, almost disbelieving. “did you like it?”

“minji, you’re so cute.” you pull back to look at her, smiling as you smooth her hair. her glasses slide down again, so you take them off and set them on the counter beside you. you twirl a strand of her hair around your finger, teasing her, and she looks like she might melt on the spot.

her hand slides to the back of your neck, making you shiver, and she leans back just enough to murmur, “i’m assuming you did.”

“good observation,” you say, rolling your eyes.

she laughs, her fingers pressing slightly into your skin, and your knees feel a little weak. “so, do we keep carving pumpkins or…?”

you grin, pulling her closer. “we could… make out a little more on the couch instead? if our lips go numb, then… movie?”

minji’s smile is bright, her eyes soft. “i like that idea.”

hanni pham - a hoodie for the seasons changing

hanni walks along the inside of the sidewalk because you decided when you were eleven that it was better for her to be farther from the street, less at risk. even now, a few weeks into your last year of high school, you still keep her on the safe side. it's just one of those things you do without thinking. it’s an unspoken rule between the two of you, so hanni hadn’t thought twice about the way you pulled her by the arm to push her on her designated side.

(she did think twice about how firm your grip was, and how you had your hand on her. your bigger, stronger, nicer hands.)

with the weekend ahead, you both agree there’s no better plan than crashing at your place after school on a friday. your hands brush against each other as you walk, but neither of you say anything. you never do; never have, not about the little things, like the shared smiles, the secret glances, the quiet laughter. instead, you let yourselves enjoy the moments, bask in the warmth that fills your chest each time.

you make it to your house, then up the stairs until you two are in your room. you immediately find hanni's sweatpants in your closet — the ones she left behind last time because she’s at your house more than half the week. you'd washed them with your clothes on laundry day, because it would’ve been rude not to. you toss them to her along with one of your t-shirts. “go change,” you say, nudging her toward the bathroom with a grin.

"hey!" hanni groans, swatting your hand away as you poke her side, making her jump. “you’re so—”

“just hurry up and change so we can relax on my bed. you know how i feel about outside clothes…”

she rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that tugs at her lips, watching the little crease form between your brows from the annoyance. it’s cute, she thinks, even if she’d never admit it. she closes the bathroom door, locks it, and starts changing. her sweatpants fit the same — they’re hers, after all — but your t-shirt hangs loose and oversized on her. it’s soft against her skin, and smells like your detergent and jasmine and peaches, like you. her heart races a little.

she catches her reflection in the mirror and notices how the shirt falls around a fingers length past her waistline. it’s not like she’s drowning in the shirt, but it’s definitely a size or two larger; you’re taller and more muscular, which happens to be her type — a fact she’s noticed a little too much for her liking. she feels a flutter in her chest, a mix of nerves and something she doesn’t want to name, then quickly shakes it off, rolling her shoulders like she can physically push the feeling away.

she takes a breath, tugs at the hem of the shirt once more, and steps out of the bathroom, trying not to think about how much she likes wearing something that belongs to you.

when she steps out a few minutes later, she finds you on your bed with your legs spread out and hands up to hold your phone. you’re in plaid pajama joggers and your dad’s old university hoodie, you look comfy and snug, you look adorable.

she jumps on your bed, landing beside you with a bounce. the mattress shifts, and your phone slips from your grip, smacking you square in the cheek. hanni laughs at the sight.

“hey!” you groan, shooting her a playful glare.

“loser.” she mutters, reaching over to mess up your hair. “scoot over, you’re hogging the whole bed.”

“whatever.” you roll over, patting the space beside you. hanni shuffles closer, pulling the blanket over both of you. your arm naturally slips under her neck, and she nestles in, the top of her head resting against your chest.

“comfy?” she can hear the smirk in your voice.

“yeah.” she replies softly, though her heart races.

neither of you ever comments on the way you always end up like this, close and tangled up in each other. the term is ‘cuddling,’ but if either of you were to call it that, you’d probably cringe, cheeks flushing with an embarrassed heat neither of you could ignore.

hanni grabs her phone, opening instagram. she scrolls, her breathing evening out as she likes every animal video and taps through every story. you watch her through half-closed eyes, feeling a calm settle over you. your other arm drapes over her waist, your breathing slowing, growing heavier.

she doesn’t notice at first, too engrossed in her phone. but when she switches to the camera, she catches a glimpse of your nose nuzzled in her hair, your eyes fully closed. she zooms in to confirm the soft snores she hears, then grins, quietly snapping a picture. she shifts, turning the camera on herself to capture both of you together.

for a while, she stays like that, tucked in your arms, watching an episode of a crime show she’s gotten hooked on. her head tilts at an odd angle, but she doesn’t mind. you’re asleep and warm beside her, and that’s all that matters.

three episodes later, she checks the time and realizes over an hour and a half has passed. somewhere in that time, you’ve pulled her closer in your sleep, murmuring something she can’t quite make out. her heart stutters each time your hand shifts against her waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric, the only layer away from her skin.

her stomach growls softly, breaking the quiet, and she decides it’s time to wake you up. turning over, your faces are inches apart, and she stops, taking a moment to just look at you. then, she leans back slightly and snaps another picture before reaching to poke your cheek. when you don’t stir, she pinches instead, shaking your shoulder lightly.

you groan, turning away from her. “five minutes… please.”

“c’mon, sleeping beauty, i’m hungry…” she sighs, her tone teasing.

“five minutes.” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “just five more…”

hanni sighs dramatically, then tries a new tactic. “i’ll pay if you get up right now. anything you want from the convenience store.”

you crack one eye open, barely, squinting at her. you roll over, sprawling into a starfish position. “fine… but five minutes, okay?” you plead, clinging to her leg.

hanni laughs softly at the warmth radiating from you, her resolve weakening. she runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp gently until five minutes turns into ten, then fifteen. finally, she nudges you awake, and the two of you head out, still in your cozy clothes.

as you walk to the convenience store, staying close, hanni steps on a leaf that crunches underfoot. “wow, it’s already fall,” she murmurs.

“well, obviously.” you tease, only to get a kick to the back of your knee. you nearly stumble, catching yourself with a laugh. “what the hell?”

“you suck.” she grumbles, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“you suck more,” you retort, nudging her back.

“whatever.”

you smile at her, and she catches it from the corner of her eye. she nudges you away again, but you keep staring, unable to help yourself. “you’ve gotten really pretty, you know?”

“are you saying i used to be ugly?” she laughs lightheartedly, expecting a playful response, but instead, you surprise her.

“you’ve never been ugly.” your voice is softer, more sincere. “you’ve always been pretty.” then your voice gets quieter, “gorgeous.”

there’s a pause, both of you walking in silence for a moment. you kick a small rock forward, and it lands by hanni’s feet. she kicks it ahead, breaking the quiet. “thanks.” she says, feeling your eyes on her but not daring to meet your gaze. “you’ve always been cute too, ever since we met in fifth grade.”

“oh.” you whisper, looking up just in time to see the store ahead — a small savior from the tension that’s thickened the air between you. you clear your throat, trying to shift the mood. “i can’t wait for my free dinner.”

hanni pushes you playfully, and you pout, making her wish she could capture the expression and keep it forever.

you two head inside, and hanni visibly relaxes as the warm air greets you. she hadn’t mentioned how chilly it was outside, even though she could’ve easily put on her jacket. part of her had hoped, maybe, you’d notice and offer her your hoodie instead.

both of you wander around the store for about ten minutes, emerging with a pork bun and a sweet tea in your hands, while hanni clutches a sweet pastry and a can of soda. instead of turning back towards your house, you keep moving forward, hanni trailing just behind you.

the route is familiar. it’s the path down to the little stream where you and hanni have shared countless secrets, talking until the sun dips below the horizon. tonight feels like one of those nights, perfect for sitting on the favorite bench you two have claimed as your own, watching the sunset as it starts a little earlier than usual.

you kick a small rock into the stream, watching the ripples spread out, and catch hanni shivering slightly in the corner of your eye as she takes a small bite of the sweet potato-filled bun.

“can you hold my stuff?” you ask, extending your hands. hanni hums in confusion but takes your things without hesitation.

she watches as you stand up, pulling off your hoodie. her eyes linger on the way your long-sleeve shirt lifts slightly, revealing a hint of your torso, the lean muscle just barely visible in the fading light. she catches herself staring and quickly looks away, cheeks warming. you fix your hair casually before draping the hoodie over her lap.

she furrows her brows, looking up at you. “what?”

you glance down at the hoodie, then back at her. “put it on.”

“why?”

“because you’re cold.” you shrug, sitting back down beside her and taking the food and drinks out of her hands to set them down. you grab the hoodie again and pull it over her shoulders, tugging it down until her head pops through and the hood falls over her eyes. “better?”

she mumbles, “you didn’t have to.”

“it’s getting colder. i’m fine like this.” you reply, pinching the fabric of your shirt before reaching out to adjust the hood over her forehead, smoothing down her hair. a small smirk tugs at your lips as you add quietly, “besides, i know you wanted my hoodie anyway.”

she nearly chokes on air, her cheeks burning. “i– i didn’t! you’re so–”

“you look better in it anyway,” you chuckle, turning back to face the stream. you sneak a bite of her pastry, the playful smile on your lips growing.

hanni huffs but doesn't protest, her fingers curling into the sleeves of your hoodie, a smile sneaking onto her face despite herself.

she looks at you fondly, biting the inside of her cheek, before crossing her arms and turning her gaze to match yours. your hoodie is thick with your scent, and hanni feels like she could drown in it. without realizing it, she scoots closer, and you instinctively wrap an arm around her.

hanni can’t hold back anymore.

“y/n.”

“yes?”

“the fall dance is really early this year.”

“yeah, it’s next week. i feel like i’ll breathe and it’ll already time to get ready for it.”

“do you have a date?”

you scoff, shaking your head with a small laugh. “you know i’ve never managed to get a date for that. we always end up going with yunjin’s group anyway. are you teasing me for not having one?”

hanni chuckles, leaning even closer against your side. “maybe a little.”

“do you have a date?” you ask, glancing down at her.

“no.”

“you know, i overheard jay’s friends talking. sounds like he might ask you out.”

hanni cringes at the thought of jay, the guy from her statistics class who never stops staring at her. his crush on her is painfully obvious, and he always finds an excuse to talk to her or get her attention.

but the truth is, hanni's always wished you’d be the one to ask her to the fall dance, but you’re oblivious, always a little clueless.

“y/n,” she tries again, voice soft.

“yes?”

“we should go to the fall dance together.”

“yeah, i was thinking that too. should we go with yunjin’s friend group again? jimin also asked if we wanted to–”

“no,” hanni interrupts, pulling away from your arm, and looks at you seriously. you tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. she meets your gaze, but quickly looks away, suddenly feeling too exposed. “i was wondering if… well— ugh.” she pinches the bridge of her nose, then takes a deep breath and blurts out, “we should go together, alone, just us. we don't have to actually go to the dance, I know we just went out in the city last time and crashed at yunjins place and we can just do whatever you want to! i don't really care i just want to be with you becauseilikeyoualotand--"

hanni pauses before finally getting to her point. "i want you to be my date, y/n."

your lips curl into a sly smile, and then you laugh.

hanni's face is a mix of confusion and anxiety, her mind racing with uncertainty at your reaction.

“took you long enough,” you say, grinning wider now. “i was going to ask you out, but i wanted to see if you had the guts to do it first.”

“asshole!” hanni groans, shoving you away. she turns her face to hide the deep flush coloring her cheeks. “i take it back.”

“no, you don’t.” your arm tightens around her, pulling her closer again, and you use your free hand to gently tilt her face towards you, fingers brushing her chin. “i’m not going to let you.”

her breath catches when your eyes flicker down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.

“w-was that a yes?” hanni asks, voice small, almost uncertain.

your fingers drop from her chin, and you lean back slightly against the bench. both of you are moving closer, almost unconsciously, drawn together by the tension. she feels her eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head, leaning in just a bit more.

“if i kiss you, would you take that as a yes?” you whisper, eyes focused on her lips.

hanni’s voice is barely audible as she murmurs, “mhm,” giving you the green light. you lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to her lips. she melts into it, feeling every nerve ending come alive in those few seconds. you pull back just enough to take in her flushed cheeks, the warmth of the autumn sun casting a soft glow over her face.

“i’d love to be your date, hanni,” you say softly, smiling as her face breaks into a relieved grin.

danielle marsh - apple picking

danielle stands beside you, her eyes bright with excitement as she takes in the familiar sight. she's wearing a pair of denim overalls over an old, oversized sweater that you know belongs to her dad, her wavy brown hair clipped up to keep loose strands from framing her face.

the apple orchard stretches out before you, rows of trees dotted with red and green apples glistening under the golden afternoon sun. you and danielle have been coming here every fall since you were kids, but this is the first time you've managed to make it back since starting college. the sunlight feels warm against your skin, but it definitely makes her shine brighter, even in the cool crispness of fall.

she grabs your hand, slipping her fingers into yours without a second thought, and pulls you down the path toward the orchard's entrance. you grin at how eager she is; being here together again fills you with a deep, comforting warmth. being around danielle always does that to you, really.

a friendly man greets you at the entrance, handing you a basket and asking if you have any questions. you both shake your heads, and he gives you a cheerful smile, wishing you good luck.

it’s peak apple-picking season, so naturally the orchard is filled with families, couples, and groups of friends, all scouring the trees for the best apples. there’s a little worry in the back of your mind that the good ones might already be gone.

“so many people,” danielle breathes, a little awestruck. “i wonder if we’re too late.”

“we’ll be fine,” you assure her, squeezing her hand lightly. “when have we ever gotten a bad apple? even the green ones end up sweet.”

“maybe that's because you always pick them~” she teases, giving you that playful smile that always makes your stomach twist and turn. you hate it a little, but you love it more—especially the way it makes your cheeks heat up.

“you're so— ugh.” you look away, trying to hide the way she flusters you, but you tug her hand, pulling her along.

you wander a bit farther down the path, away from the crowd. danielle’s eyes light up when she spots a tree heavy with apples. she lets go of your hand, darting forward, studying the branches.

“this one’s perfect,” she says, reaching up on tiptoe, fingers just brushing a particularly shiny apple.

you watch her struggle for a moment, biting back a laugh. “need some help?”

she glances back, trying to look serious but failing. instead, she gives you her signature pout, the one that makes you melt everytime you see it. “i guess i could use a little help,” she admits.

you move closer, setting the basket down. “hop on,” you offer, patting your back.

she giggles before jumping onto your back, her laughter bright in your ear as you steady her by holding her legs. she reaches up, plucking the apple from the branch with a satisfied hum. "got it!"

“nice catch,” you say, lowering her back to the ground.

she turns to you, cheeks flushed from the thrill of the simple task, still holding the apple. “i’ve got my own personal apple-picking assistant,” she teases, nudging you.

“not free of charge,” you joke, smiling at her.

her happiness is contagious, and you're more than willing to let it take over the afternoon.

(and really, your whole life—but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself.)

“but always happy to help, miss marsh.”

you and danielle spend the next couple of hours wandering through the orchard, picking apples, laughing, and reminiscing about the times you’d done this as kids. you remember danielle’s dad lifting you up on his shoulders when you were too small to reach, and the time she accidentally knocked one of your teeth out with a misplaced apple throw. her laughter fills the space between you, and more than once, she climbs onto your back again, her hands on your shoulders, her face so close you can feel her breath on your neck. it’s nerve-racking, but much more heart warming.

as the sun starts to dip, the air cools, and you catch danielle stifling a yawn. “getting sleepy?” you ask, watching her rub her eyes the same way she used to when you were younger.

"maybe a little," she admits, yawning again, trying to blink away the sleepiness settling in her eyes. "but i don't want to leave yet. this is too much fun."

really, she doesn’t want the day to end at all. spending time with you like this feels like the good old days, back when things were simple and easy, and danielle would do just about anything to stretch it out a little longer. she's always been whipped for anything involving you, for every shared laugh, for every time your shoulder accidentally brushes hers. she knows she would spend every minute she has left doing nothing but this, being with you, if she could. it's been harder lately—with college and schedules pulling you both in different directions, with classes, work, and life taking up so much of the time she used to have with you. the thought makes her chest ache a little, makes her cling to this moment even more tightly, like she could hold on to it forever.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she adds softly, her voice barely above a whisper, almost like she’s talking to herself more than you. “since we just got to be like this.”

“yeah,” you agree, a touch of something bittersweet in your smile. “way too long.”

her fingers brush yours, almost like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she doesn't hold on, her hand still warm from holding yours all afternoon. “i wish we could do this every day,” she sighs, her tone playful and smile warm, but it makes her heart ache a bit.

you feel your heart squeeze at that, at the honesty in her voice, and you reach out, squeezing her hand in return. “me too,”

for a moment, you both stand there, just holding hands, feeling the weight of all the missed moments and the sweetness of the one you’re in now. the orchard is quieter now, the sun sinking lower, casting everything in a soft, golden light. you think it makes her look even more beautiful, like she belongs in a place like this, caught between the sunset and the apples and the way her smile seems to light up her whole face.

“anyway,” you clear your throat, breaking yourself from your trance. “we’ve been here for hours, dani,” you chuckle. “it’s okay if you’re tired.”

“okay, maybe i am tired,” she says, shoulders slumping. “fine, let's head back.”

“it’s an hour drive anyway, maybe longer with traffic,” you point out, pinching her cheek just because. “you can sleep in the car.”

after paying for your apples and accepting a free mini apple pie from the cashier, you head back to the car. you hold her hand with one hand and carry the bag of apples with the other, feeling content as you walk through the fading light.

at the car, danielle settles into the passenger seat, her eyes fluttering shut as soon as you start driving. you glance over at her, peaceful and serene in sleep, her lips slightly parted. she looks so pretty under the soft glow of the streetlights that you can’t resist taking a quick picture when you reach the nearest stop sign.

you drive quietly, letting the soft sounds of her breathing fill the car. when you arrive at her house, you unbuckle her seatbelt carefully, brushing your fingers over her skin in the process. she murmurs something in her sleep, but doesn’t wake. you gently lift her out of the car, cradling her against your chest. she instinctively wraps her arms around your neck, holding on like she doesn’t want to let go.

getting inside is a bit of a challenge; you end up going through the gate to the backyard. once you’re inside, you lay her down gently on the couch, intending to pull away, but she tightens her grip around you. “no, y/n… stay,” she mumbles.

your arm moves around her, instinctively pulling her closer, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing against you, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of yours. she smells like apples and cinnamon and the orchard and what it feels like to be a child and filled with adoration. it fills your senses, making you feel like you’re wrapped up in everything that feels good and familiar.

your fingers continue to gently massage her scalp, and before long, your eyes grow heavy, and you drift off with her beside you, feeling completely at peace.

—

you aren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when the creak of the front door makes you stir. your eyes flutter open to a blurry room, the dim light barely catching on the edges of furniture. you blink, trying to sit up, but danielle’s weight is still against you, her face tucked into the curve of your neck, her breaths soft and steady.

a quiet voice breaks the sleepy haze. “well, look at that.”

you blink harder, clearing your vision to see danielle’s parents standing in the doorway, looking amused. their expressions are soft, eyes twinkling with the kind of knowing that makes your cheeks flush. you shift slightly, attempting to move, but danielle’s hold tightens, her face burrowing deeper into your neck, refusing to let go even in her sleep.

“hi,” you manage, voice thick with sleep, feeling the warmth creep up your face. “we were just… she fell asleep in the car, and i didn’t want to wake her.”

danielle’s mom smiles gently, eyes creasing at the corners. “you two look comfortable. did you have fun at the orchard?”

“yeah…” you murmur, still a little groggy, the day’s warmth lingering in your chest.

danielle’s dad chuckles, his gaze softening. “she’s hanging on like a little bear,” he says with a grin. “reminds me of when you two were kids, falling asleep in the backseat. she’d twist herself into the strangest positions, and you always seemed to make room for her.”

of course you did, you always made room for her, whether that was in the backseat of her parents’ car, your mind, or your heart.

you feel your cheeks get hotter, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. you glance down at danielle, her face still nestled into you, and it strikes you how natural it feels, like this was always how it was supposed to be.

as her parents quietly make their way upstairs, you lean back into the cushions, fingers absentmindedly brushing through danielle’s hair, the strands soft against your skin.

“y/n?” her voice is a soft mumble, barely more than a whisper. “are my parents home?”

“yeah,” you say softly, feeling her shift slightly.

“mhm... can we stay like this?” her voice is slurred, on the edge of falling back into sleep.

“whatever you want, dani.”

“okay,” she breathes, then after a pause, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“thanks for today,” she sighs, her words sleepy and warm against your neck. “i love you.”

the words make your heart swell, and maybe it’s the sleepiness or the quiet of the room, but you find the courage to press a soft kiss to her forehead, even if it means twisting awkwardly. you close your eyes, letting yourself relax into the moment, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

“i love you too danielle.”

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

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Bucky Barnes is the best super soldier

How it was subtly emphasized in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

He always holds back

With the Flag Smashers and even with John Walker. We could see the difference in the last 3 episodes. Sebastian Stan did an incredible job making it clear in a subtle way.

I want to mention that famous "Stay there" scene, and how it was visible Bucky was not punching as hard as he can in the fight with John.)

This is the thing about Bucky, he isn't after the kill, he just does his part. He doesn't try to show off his skills or that he is a good guy. He doesn't try to play the victim role, either. In the scene where Zemo fake-activates the Winter Soldier in Madripoor, he just makes a point. He's obviously not even trying hard.

If he wanted those in the club dead, they would be. But his self control was wow. Sebastian acted so well, his exes said everything.

*And to be honest, even when he was TWS, he could have killed everyone, but he didn't. He could have killed all of the Avengers in Civil War is they were his mission, but they weren't. This is how Natasha survived when she met him, too. It depended on what kind of mission he had (if he wasn't allowed to be seen, then the witnesses would die too, but otherwise? He didn't bother).

2. His skills

People tend to forget how smart and good at making strategies Bucky is. He's been fighting (even though he hates fighting and never wanted to be in the army) for years before he was even captured by Hydra. And this is the reason why government still want him, after all. They can use his strategies as a leader (*cough* Thunderbolts *cough*).

In the last episodes of TFATWS, we could see how he outsmarted everyone. Karli was so terrified of him.

3. Karli Morgenthau

And talking about Karli, the phone call was interesting:

She asked him if he's not tired of fighting for the wrong side, and then told him she's fighting for something bigger than herself.

"And with all the bodies you've collected, have you ever been able to say the same?"

The first thing I wanna point out is how everyone talks about the deaths Bucky caused when he was controlled by Hydra, but everyone ignores the fact that all the Avengers killed far more, but since we consider them the good side, we just don't care.

Clint, Tony, Steve, Wanda etc. They all cause(d) far more deaths than "two dozen" (known assassinations - to quote Natasha), and neither was controlled. The double standards are something else, especially for Clint. (One of the reasons why Tony was on the other side in CW was because of his guilt, after all.)

The second point is how Bucky's answer says a lot more than we might realize at first:

"You don't think I ever fought for something bigger than myself? That's all I ever tried to do, and I failed twice."

Even as TWS, Bucky had to be convinced he is on the right side, that what they do is to save the world, to give "the world the freedom it deserves".

Even brainwashed and put to sleep all the time, he had to be lied to. Bucky as TWS was a victim too. He is not a victim only because he didn't have memories or control, but also because they lied to him and used him as a toy. That milk scene is so loud. (And I am gonna talk about it in a different post). He had no rights, no choices. He was used to being tortured.

[And I wish they explored it more. We deserved and deserve a WS film - maybe with him in Romania getting back his memories, writing in his journal etc.]

"You think your cause justifies all this death, but in the end, the nightmares won't go away. You're gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust me. Don't do this. Don't go down this path."

Despite being on opposite sides, Bucky still said this to Karli, trying to help her, to make her see the big picture, sharing how he felt and feels.

He is on "the right side". He is a hero, and Bucky being thanked by that man for saving everyone's life was touching.

4. Baron Zemo

You can see how smart, strong, and rational Bucky is when he decides to break Zemo out of jail (his plan was amazing too), risking so much (his relationship with Wakanda people and his own freedom) to get his help for the mess. He puts the cause above his own (huge) trauma. And this makes that moment in Madripoor even more disgusting (he is treated as an object, as a toy):

Zemo: Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.

The way he keeps his composure, reacts and manages the situation... absolutely incredible!

This conversation also says a lot:

Zemo: The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path.

Bucky: Maybe you're wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.

Zemo: Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?

Bucky positions himself below Steve, who's considered a good hero, a good person... like no other. But Steve never had to go through what Bucky did: from being kidnapped like that, to being tested on, to falling off the train, to being tortured, and used, and brainwashed for decades, and put to sleep when he was not needed and having n "keepers".

Also, interesting how all Steve wanted was to fight (for a good cause, but still)... and fighting still means violence, meanwhile Bucky never wanted to fight, not even before becoming TWS, in the army (and yet he is still great at fighting. And he is deadly, even when he holds back.). All he wanted was peace.

Despite not getting the "perfect serum", despite being brainwashed, put to sleep, and forced to fight for decades, he is still himself. He never gave in to the dark side for real. He fought in his own way. The first thing he did when he woke up was to choke the Hydra guy with a whole new arm!

Bucky is so underrated: from his intelligence and fighting skills, to how human he is. Being flawed, keeping his sassiness and charm from the 40s, but getting more mature and carrying his past on his shoulders... he's so relatable and real. And every day, he shows Zemo he is wrong.

The show he makes in his final scene with Zemo is absolutely fantastic. He doesn't just prove the point he isn't defined by the serum and Hydra (AND not even by Steve, thanks to Sam. His speech made him realize the important thing about himself: that he decides who he is, not others - even those who know him before becoming TWS- "And this might be a surprise, but it doesn't matter what Steve thought. You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." parallel to "Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing. [...] So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me."), but also that he is superior.

When Zemo tells him that he decided to let him alive (probably so he can kill Karli) and basically calls him a killing machine: "programmed to kill", Bucky plays the role, lets Zemo talk him into killing Karli, and then Bucky watches him waiting for his own death.

[Also, Bucky's line: Imagine my relief is hilarious.]

The acting was incredible: the shock on Zemo's face and the amusement and somehow relief on Bucky's after he pulls the trigger and lets the bullets fall... He proved him he's THE standard of the super soldier. Because despite everything he went through, he is the best.

Zemo telling him to cross his name off felt like a fresh start (+ telling Nakajima the truth).

5. John Walker

John, on the other hand, is lucky Bucky is an understanding person. He gets what is like... the pressure, the environment, the loss, and even tries to help.

Bucky: Don't go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well.

John: I'm not like you!

Of course he is not like Bucky, because Bucky has control. He is not killing to get revenge in a cynical way.

"That serum doesn't exactly have a great track record."

John kept judging Bucky every time they spoke, somehow placing himself above this "broken" man.

"This is all really easy for you, isn't it? All that serum runnin' through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?"

This is so wrong on every single level, especially because Bucky didn't choose to take the serum, and he always had his friends' back. He's loyal and ready to sacrifice himself.

The "funny" part about this is John ending up taking the last super soldier serum vial. All the judgement, the disgust, the patronizing tone, just to do that. Plus, of course, to kill someone with the shield.

(John proves Zemo's point about super soldiers, and Bucky does the opposite.)

And what is it easy for Bucky anyway?

He's under government conditions (so CACW coded), he has a vibranium arm that I bet the government would try to take after he dies (HOPEFULLY WHEN HE'S 200 YEARS OLD IN HIS BED, as Sebastian wants too) if he isn't in Wakanda, he is haunted by nightmares (which also can mean he is still Hydra's TWS in another universe as we found out from Strange), and he has to learn how to live for real. He's smart, charismatic, has values and principles, and he's incredible.

We need to see his version of TWS going after everyone Hydra helped. TWS is him, a part of him, and doing that on his terms, having control over it would help him heal.

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canihaveacalmtime · 2 months ago

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What's the experience growing up with a playboy and a spoiled brat? You will them wear a very different personality in front of other people and take it off when you three go hangout together.

Getting related to them is already tiring enough but being their childhood friend? You must tolerate them a lot, thats how others think but in reality, you really cherish your friends as they have been there with you ever since you learn how to speak and walk.

But ever since you three enter college, they have.. changed, not a lot but it's very noticeable because they begin to avoid you. Like, avoid avoid you, they do talk and make conversation with you but right after the conversation ends, they leave immediately. Do you feel hurt or sad? Of course you do, you even start to questioning yourself what you did wrong.

Turns out you did nothing wrong, the problem isn't even because of you, it's because of them.

It's because now that the size gap between them and you have significant change with you look completely smaller than them as they now look much bigger than you. Whenever they look at you or stand next to to you, to simply put it, they can not stop their dirty minds or get those images of you looking weak on the bed off of their minds.

For you, you just kinda accept the fact that your relationship with them is probably wittering away while as for them, they are thinking about how they going to express their feelings for you because they just... can't take it anymore.

-----------

One late night, Isaac (the play boy) and Evelyn (the spoiled brat) have just returned from the bar after probably hitting up with some newcomers, what they didn't expect to see is the TV still running and a small sleeping figure laying on the couch.

"(Y/N) looks so cute when they're letting all their guards down, huh.."

Evelyn said while playing with your hair and caressing your cheeks, Isaac slowly and carefully lift you up in a bridal style, bringing you back into your room and lay you down on the bed.

"I wish we could just lock them up somewhere for ourselves."

"Wow, what a crazy thought of yours, sac. But I guess I also want to do something like that, too."

They standing there, silently, by the sleeping figure on the bed when suddenly Evelyn climbs onto your bed and start kissing you. Isaac was shocked as he stands there, dead in place until he also climbs onto the bed as he holds your back and give you some bite marks on your neck.

Feeling uncomfortable, you open your eyes and immediately make eyes contact with Evelyn, Isaac also noticed as you three just suddenly froze in place like they just got caught in a bad act and you are just.. shocked.

"Guys- what are you two d-"

You were pushed down onto the bed with both of your hands tied with a ribbon, without time to even react to what just happened, you are force kiss again but this time by Isaac as Evelyn begin playing with your nipples.

Isaac let go of the kiss and the moment he sees your face all red, tears rolling down on your cheeks and the mess he made? The urge to ruin you is never so hard to resist like now and Evelyn seems to notice the signs too as she let go of you, making you fall down on the bed due to dizziness but the moment you see them begin taking their clothes off, you knew that running is your only option left, before you can even make a run for it, you are pinned back on the bed as you look at your friends in fear, tears already falling, while they look back at you with full of lust in their eyes.

"Maybe if you weren't so naive, we'd have ruined you long ago, (nickname)."

"Don't worry, we'll be as gentle as possible."

#calmwrites #yandere #yandere drabble #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere friend

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2soulscollide · 2 years ago

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Write your book STEP BY STEP

hello hello, it's me again!

today i'm bringing you a step-by-step / checklist to finally get your book done. i know it can be a bit complicated to put everything together to make your idea come to life (you're definitely not alone!)

that's why i compiled some tips and made this post, in hopes to help some author out there :D

let's get started.

PREMISE

assuming you already have a good idea in mind, you should start by writing a premise. to help you with that, try to answer these questions:

who is the main character?

what are their goals?

which troubles will they face / what's stopping them from achieving their goals?

do they have an opponent? if so, who?

now that you know the answers to these questions, it's time to write the premise. the premise consists in a sentence that summarizes your whole idea.

PLOT OUTLINE

there are infinite ways to plot your story. you can do it by writing down ideas and linking them together, following a scheme, or any other method.

the most common plot outlines are these:

synopsis outline: one to two pages, where you hit all the major beats of the story

in-depth outline: outline each chapter/scene

snowflake method: develop the premise into a bigger paragraph, and that paragraph into a page (etc.) until you have the whole outline of your story

booken method: plot the start and end of the story, and the main characters

the novel factory created plot sheets for free, and you can choose from eight different templates. you might want to check it out!

KNOW YOUR CHARACTERS

having your outline defined, you should start developing your characters now. the main character's profile might be more detailed than the others, however, it's up to you. there are many character sheets out there on the internet that will help you create flawless characters.

i have a post with resources that might be helpful when creating a character, check it out!

and here you have some prompts and sheets to create a character:

Quick Character Creator - EA Deverell

Extremely detailed character sheet template - @hawkasss

The Best Character Template Ever - Dabble

Character Twenty Questions Worksheet - The Writers Circle

at this point, you should also define the narrator's voice, tone, etc, as well as the pace of your novel.

LOCATIONS

define the principal locations of your story, the settings, and where the story is taking place. it's important to know how the environment looks, and how your characters feel about it.

for this part, you might find it useful to do some research about some locations, if you're not familiar with them. find inspiration on Pinterest, Tumblr, or even on books, paintings, and art. everything is valid.

if your story takes place in a fantasy environment, you might need to fill out a template to create it or write down the way you imagine it to be. try to get as many details as possible, so there are no holes when developing the novel.

SUBPLOTS

you might want to give more depth to your novel by developing a subplot (or more than one). make sure it doesn't get too confusing or that doesn't take the focus away from the main action.

the subplot can be a romance, another character's relationship, a character's arc, a backstory, etc. this will make your story more real and 3D, more realistic.

develop it as a side story and mix it with the principal plot but don't make it as important as the main story, otherwise, none of the plots will make an impact.

SYNOPSIS

write a synopsis as long as you wish, covering every important part of the story. this will help you to really know your idea, and have a solid structure for it. it can range from 500 to 2,500 words, but you don't have to restrict yourself to a number.

things the synopsis should cover:

the status quo

the complication

initial challenges

midpoint

further challenges

the low point

the climax

the resolution

DRAFT

and we get to the best part which is writing! now that you know everything about your story, characters, locations, and scenes, all you have to do is to put all that together in words. don't feel pressured to make everything look perfect already, just write what comes to your mind. if you have a new idea for the plot, good, write it down! if this character doesn't make sense anymore, okay, get rid of them. just go with the flow, following the structure you've planned, and everything starts to come to life.

i know it's so tempting to go back, read what you wrote, and start editing and polishing, but trust me, don't do that! it's a waste of time, and you will take so much more time to finish your first draft. in fact, i've given up on so many stories because of that...

just when you finish the first draft, you will re-read everything and start editing, fixing plot holes, changing what doesn't fit well, etc. but for now, just write, get the first draft done. enjoy the process, don't rush.

thanks for reading!

i hope this post was helpful!

also, you might be interested in this free workbook with over 90 pages and many exercises! check it out here: THE WRITER'S WORKBOOK

resources for this post:

How to Choose a Plot Outline Method: 4 Techniques for Outlining Novels

How to Write a Novel: A Step-by-Step Guide

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jojissalsa · 1 year ago

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Perfect body, Pretty face

Warnings: dom!Leon x fem/sub!reader, power dynamics (boss/assistant), daddy kink, mentions of nudes/sex work, taking pictures during sex, facial, condescension, slight praise, mentions of age gap (reader is in mid 20s), clothes ripping (tights), reader is bratty at some point.

hello again :3 i wanna post what i can while i have the time, so i can kinda build this page up. hope u guys enjoy this one even if i feel like i made a few mistakes and lmk where i can improve! constructive criticism, reposts and requests are always welcome :D (minors don’t interact, touch grass.)

WC: 3.3k (proofread)

When Leon first came to the D.S.O, he expected bigger missions and harder work. Not boring ass reports and paperwork. The missions were definitely longer, which meant piles atop piles of paperwork that would take longer than it should. When the D.S.O realized Leon needed more time on his reports compared to the rookies or standard agents, they gave him a hand. You, his new assistant. And god, were you helpful. You were more than a sight for sore eyes, you were distracting at first, but even more so as he got to know you. You even remembered his favorite coffee order, and what he liked most for lunch. To him, you were just doing a good job. But in reality, you just wanted to get in his pants more than anything.

Your last boss was such a douchebag, the typical mansplaining and ungratefulness. But Leon? He was such a sweetheart, and so understanding. He didn’t get annoyed when you made a tiny mistake, a couple minutes late or working slower at the end of your shift. You knew damn well your attraction to him was bad for you and this job, but Eve still ate that apple didn’t she? You were the same, always attracted to forbidden fruit. But when it was Leon, who cares about forbidden? It just adds to the flavor. Obviously being an assistant didn’t make the most money, but at least you got a pretty face to work with. And there’s no shame in a side hustle, right? That’s what you thought when you made a Twitter account when you first became an assistant, well, intern at first. The job was so damn stressful and your shitty boss didn’t help. It was harmless fun at first, posting a few lewd pictures of your cleavage or in cute two-piece bathing suits you got. And then it got even lewder, posting pictures of your bare tits, dim lighting from your computer, things like that until you said fuck it and showed all the goods. Complaining about your shitty boss became part of your brand, as well as the faceless part of your nudes. You never showed your face, only your hair if it was a full body picture, not because you were ashamed of what you were doing. Not in the slightest, actually. You were just worried about word spreading around the office, especially since you were getting fairly popular. No face, no case, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone had x-ray vision to see if you had the same tits. It’s not like it hurt business either, you had a perfect body. You weren’t the skinniest person in the world, average like most people’s bodies. But to you, it was perfect. It suited you and flaunting it made you happy.

Your brand definitely shifted when you changed bosses, less complaining about how much your job sucked to more complaining about how badly you needed your boss to look at you differently. Pictures of you up-skirt under your desk whenever he wasn't looking or left to grab you both coffee or lunch, captions that always mentioned him.

"is it bad that my boss gets me this wet?"

"wish my boss would crawl under my desk and take care of this ;p"

And they would only get more and more risky. Posts of your increasingly skimpy outfits and a courtesy picture of you out of them captioned "you guys think my boss will like? lol". A video of you cumming in the bathroom at work, another where you cheekily slipped your fingers in your cunt, rubbing your slick over your clit before giggling as you turn the recording off.

Leon really didn’t mean to find something of yours this personal, he was just a guy looking for porn where he knew he could find it. He may be old but the man still needs to get off. And he was a man of taste, he liked the amateur stuff, and he knew Twitter had it. When he stumbled across your account, he thought it was perfect. At first he didn't know it was you, but by your most recent posts, it was obvious. You never name dropped him, or even said what he looked like, only saying he was fine and looked like a dilf, which was definitely an ego boost when he figured out it was you. It was easy, really. He was bored at night, couldn’t sleep like usual, and hoped that jacking off would clear his head a bit. It didn’t clear his head in the slightest when he saw your most recent video. It was of you working overtime, fingering yourself on his desk. Biting your lip to stay quiet but failing miserably as your fingers keep rubbing against that spongy spot in your walls, palm slapping against your clit. The best part? You said his name while you came. Maybe not his full name, but the way you let it out subconsciously, saying "Mr. Kennedy" in the most pornographic way possible, realizing you did and then giggling when you felt no remorse. Only an "oh shit" and a cutesy laugh as you abruptly ended the video. He was gonna say something tomorrow. He had to.

The second you walk in the door with that polite smile you always have, cute pink blouse and short pencil skirt, he waves you over to his desk. "Y/n, come here for a sec." His stern tone makes you blush and immediately walk over after setting down your bag. "Yes, sir? Is there something you need from me?" You expect him to say he needs a file or some kind of paper, but he shocks you when he turns his monitor around to show your twitter page. "You know anything about this?" You don't show it on your face, but the way you clench your jaw makes it obvious. You've got a good poker face, he'll give you that. "No sir, am I supposed to?" You get a bit of an attitude, mainly because he just totally called you out. "I don't know, you tell me." He scrolled very little down to your last post, the video. You gulp, knowing damn well you said his name. "Is that you saying my name?" His tone is still stern, but it feels more teasing now, considering his cocky smirk. He has you in a corner. "Don't you think it's a little sleazy to be prying into my personal hobbies?" Your attitude gets more prominent, crossing your arms and giving him a sharp glare. You were more prideful than anything, his smugness starting to piss you off because of how turned on you were getting. "Don't you think it's a bit slutty to finger fuck yourself on my desk?" When he shot back at you with that you froze, face going completely red. Not only was he right, you had no room to talk about his habits, but the way he said it was so fucking hot it lit a fire in you, shockwaves shooting straight to your clit.

You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, your lips parted as you felt your pulse throbbing between your thighs, knowing your panties were soaked. "You gonna say something or just come over here already? Stop wasting my time, I have work to do." It was instant when he said that, hips swaying as you walked to him, holding your hands in front of you as you looked down at the ground. "What's got you all shy? You certainly weren't shy last night." His teasing was really getting to you, making your lips squeeze as you shift your thighs again, your chest feeling so heavy with every breath you took. "Didn't I tell you not to waste my time? Sit on my desk and spread your legs." Your breath hitches at his demanding words, hopping up on his desk and spreading your legs. You thank god that it was a little chilly today, making you wear sheer black tights. Not that you'd be wearing them long, you just hope the wet spot on your panties wasn’t noticeable. "Jesus, soaked through your fucking tights? You're that excited?" His teasing made you go wide eyed, whimpering at his smug gaze piercing through you. "Yes sir.." You finally manage to speak, even if it sounds breathless and needy. Your eyes stay steady on him, taking in every feature you can. You lick your lips from the sight of his hard cock pressed against his tight slacks, not daring to close your legs in the slightest even if you were desperate for friction. "See something you like?" You watch him palm over his hard on, just watching something that sinful makes you moan softly. "I thought you said not to waste your time? What are you waiting for?" You throw any bit of shyness out the window, brattiness taking its place instead. After all, he meddled into something private, why make it easy for him? That’s no fun~

His brows furrowed as he gives you an annoyed look, groaning in frustration as he shoots up from his office chair and grabs your waist, pulling you from his desk and flipping you to bend over. He certainly doesn't waste any time now, pulling your skirt up and ripping a massive hole in your tights, making you gasp and squirm, turning your head to try and see the damage. "Don't complain, no point in denying you like it. Why else are your panties fucking drenched?" You throw him a frustrated glare before grumbling something about those being expensive under your breath. "Sorry, what was that?" You gasp as his hand slams down harshly on your ass cheek, whining at his gentle kneading on the now stinging red spot. "You're trying so hard to be bratty, when you're usually such a sweet girl. Always coming here early, bringing me coffee, remembering my favorite lunch. You don't do that because you like this job, hell, a slut like you doesn’t care about working hard. You do it because you want my attention." His hand keeps kneading the fat of your ass, making you back up into his palm for more. That doesn't stop your attitude though. "Oh boo hoo, as if you didn't love every second of it. How'd you even find my page? The nursing home gives you internet after 10?" Your bitchy tone doesn't go unnoticed by him, and neither does your smug smirk that is clearly challenging him, if anything it lights the same fire inside him, dick twitching under his slacks. He shoots you a glare that says "you really wanna do this?", as if you care about that silly warning. What's the worst he could do? "Y'know they shouldn't give a pervy old man like you access to stuff like that, it rots your brain~" You get cut off by another slap on your ass, harder than the last one, he doesn't even bother to soothe the sting with his hand. "Pervy old man? Then what are you? Some slut thinking of her boss's cock all day. How high and mighty." Another slap, and you're already unraveling by the second, the tingling sensation from his spanks sending shock after shock to your clit.

"You go on and on about me on that damn site for thousands to see, so why not take what you want? You're getting nowhere by being an ungrateful brat." He's really starting to make sense with how desperate you are to be touched, for that release you so desperately need. And with how hard his spanking is getting, it's making your head dizzy. He presses his hard-on against your ass, making you whine and grind against him. That's not enough for him though, he needs you to say it, the same way you said his name last night. "C'mon pretty girl, get what you want and ask for it, I know you can." He grinds against your ass, finally snapping through the sane part of your brain. "Fuck! Fine, please, please give it to me, I can't wait anymore, please Mr. Kennedy.." You beg in a gravelly voice, nails digging into his desk as the neediness in you builds. "Need what? You can say it." He slaps your ass again, a little gentler now that you're finally getting there, sliding his hand down to press his thumb on the gusset on your panties, hissing at how wet it felt. "Your cock, Leon, please, I need your cock so bad.." You whimper in broken fragments from your voice breaking, sighing in relief as he finally pulls down your panties, feeling your slick connect to them in strings and the cool air contrasting how hot you feel. As you heard the sound of metal clinking and a zipper pulled down you wished he flipped you over, because you really wanted to see his cock, turning your head in a desperate attempt to steal a quick glance. "Don't worry baby, you'll get a good look later." You don't care enough to question him, you care more about his tip pressed against your folds, threatening to stretch you open.

The coil of anticipation that's released when he finally slides inside you is the most euphoric feeling, growling as he fills you completely, balls nestled right against your clit. "Fuck, barely had to do anything and it slipped in so easy. Like you were made to take this cock, huh, sweetheart?" He goes slow at first, letting you adjust to his thick size, agonizing in how slow he drags his cock along your walls. All you can mutter is 'yes' like a mantra to keep you in reality, but every stroke is sending you further into that cloudy part of your brain where all you can think about is how you can feel everything. His hands on your hips to keep you in place, the way his cock kisses right against your cervix then pulls all the way out just to make you drunk off the feeling, his low and heavy grunts dangerously close to your ear, and it's all getting you even more impatient and needy. "Leon, please, go faster, need it faster." You speak through broken sobs and high pitched whines, looking back at him with a pleading pout. You can't say no to this cute face, can you? His nails dig into your hips, finally fucking you faster, and so much harder, you can feel the air in your lungs get choked out with every harsh thrust. "Just can't help yourself, can you? So fucking impatient." He can hear you getting louder, and between you and the sound of skin slapping against wet skin, he can at least silence one. "So loud, the whole fucking office can probably hear you." He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls your head up, body arching backwards as your head meets his shoulder. You can barely make out his smug grin as he looks down at you, glossy eyes with blown out pupils, your cheeks flushed a deep red.

"You look so pretty like this, looking up at me without a thought in that pretty little head. Just needed Daddy to fuck you stupid, huh?" He gets a wicked chuckle at your wide eyes, the way you clench tighter and move your hips to meet his rhythm. You curse yourself mentally for tweeting about that godforsaken daddy kink you have, or any of your kinks because now he knows every little thing that makes you tick. How frustrating. "Ohhh, didn't think I would look that far? You have no idea, spent hours looking at your stuff, even during missions I couldn't help but think about this sweet pussy wrapped around my cock." Your expression goes blank at his words, completely cockdrunk. You know you shouldn't do any of this, you can only imagine how much trouble you’d be in if someone walked in right now. But who could blame you? You couldn't name a single person who would throw away an opportunity like this. Who needs responsibility when you could have the simple yet intense pleasure that Leon Kennedy brings?

"Almost went crazy when I heard my name in that dirty fucking mouth, never been that hard in my life. Gonna make sure that mouth is full of my name every chance I get." You scream and whimper, the sound rumbling against his hand as you get closer and closer, toes curling into your heels. The sight is so damn beautiful to him, and he just has to see what you look like when you cum in person. When you cum on his cock, not some silly toy that could never satisfy you the way he can. His free hand takes its time sliding up your blouse to palm your tits over your bra, his fingers raking over the soft skin of your stomach before stilling at your bunched up skirt around your waist, right above your clit. "You wanna cum, don't you, baby? You're gonna be good and ask nicely, yeah? Go ahead, tell Daddy you wanna cum." He moves his hand away from your mouth but keeps your head up, gripping your face instead, watching as you greedily suck in air between mindless moans. "Please Daddy, please, please, please let me cum, need to cum so fucking bad-" Your pathetic babbling cuts off when his fingers put pressure on your clit, rubbing fast circles that make your brows frown as your walls clench, the knot in your stomach slowly coming undone. "There you go, such a good girl, asking me so nicely. Cum for me, sweet girl, cum on my cock for me." And you do, harder than you have in a while, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see white spots, those sweet, broken sobs leaving your lips involuntarily, moaning his name as he slows down.

Before you know it, you're on your knees in front of him, finally getting a full, up close and personal view of his fat cock. He's thick, pre-cum pearling at his tip as he uses your slick to finish himself off, fisting his cock feverishly. "Told you you'd get a better look, now open up sweetheart. Gonna cover that pretty face in my cum, maybe even take a picture for those depraved little boys that get off on you." He’s one to talk.. His grunts and soft whimpers between his words make you bite back an eager grin, lolling your tongue out and getting blessed with the salty taste on his tip. You keep your lips pursed on his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes that make his cock kick in his hand, your own hands resting on his thighs. He pulls some hair away from your face with his free hand and keeps it there as he finally coats your cheeks and tongue with pools of cum, chuckling through breathless moans as he slaps his cock on your tongue. He grabs his phone as his free hand leaves your hair to press his thumb on your tongue, keeping your mouth open. He groans with a smug smirk as you look up into the camera, a clear, empty head as drool dribbles down your chin and onto his fingers holding your chin. "You'll get this picture tonight when I drive you home, 'kay?" He helps you back to your feet, cleaning off your face with his handkerchief and pulling your skirt down, fixing your wrinkled blouse. “Now go finish those reports for me, try not to work too slow, don’t wanna work overtime, do you?” He softly strokes your back, coaxing you closer to your desk. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy.." You breathe out, still wobbly on your feet as you walk to your desk, feeling the sting on your ass as you sit down, shivering at the tingle. Worth it.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #leon resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy infinite darkness #resident evil smut #smut

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evolnoomym · 4 months ago

Text

Bigger than the whole sky 🌌

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pt.2🌠 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You meet Joel and well of course you fall for each other. It’s a bit bumpy since he’s your Dads best friend. But things seem to work out until they don’t anymore. One event changes everything.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: no use of y/n, pov switches that might be confusing, female reader, reader has hair, reader wears makeup, reader can get pale, weight loss, implied childhood abuse, trauma, angst, heavy angst(?), implied smut, alludes to pregnancy, funerals, coffins, reader has no name only a bunch of nicknames, size difference, dbf!Joel Miller, mentions of throwing up, loss of a loved one, grief, depression (?), food and eating issues are mentioned, talks of having a baby, Blood, dark thoughts, intrusive thoughts, age gap, readers age is not exactly mentioned but Joel is 44, talks of getting married….

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @almostfoxglove ‘s Angst Writing Challenge. Shoutout to her she created the moodboard, it’s sooooo beautiful. 🫶🏻

Shoutout to @thecutestgrotto and @cafekitsune for the dividers 💙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is also only my second time posting writing for a specific character. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. This not beta read btw only by my eyes and they hurt after starring at the screen for so long 🌌🫶🏻

And lastly I’ll leave some songs i listened to while writing <3

loml by Taylor Swift

Black Friday by Tom Odell

This is what the drugs are for by Gracie Abrams

I guess by Mitski

Present by Lloyd Vaan

Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson

Home by Daughter

Allowed to be Happy by Gustavo Santaolalla

Song on the Beach by Arcade Fire, Owen Pallet

aisatsana [102] by Aphex Twin

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens

Francis Forever by Mitski

A House In Nebraska by Ethel Cain

Medicine by Daughter

Youth by Daughter

I can barely say his name by Patrick Jonsson

listen before I go by Billie Eilish

You remember exactly how you met Joel Miller, it was so simple. He was the one to give your Dad a job at the construction company he led together with his younger brother Tommy. In the beginning you only heard how great of a boss he supposedly was through your Dads stories.

Joel and him seemed to have grown into real good friends in the span of mere weeks. You always had wondered what the man from his stories was like in person, up close.

When you had to drive to the construction site to bring your Dad his lunch he had forgotten due to being a bit busy that morning. It seemed like your wishes to meet Joel would become reality. You didn’t think the big boss would spend his precious time with the actual building process but as you'd figure out in the future, Joel is a hands on kinda guy.

You must’ve looked super out of place and quite lost when he approached you. His Texas drawl still echoed through your head hours later. „Well Hello Darlin, lookin for someone?“ and if that alone didn’t completely blew you away, then certainly his stunning looks. When you turned towards the voice a tall, broad and awfully handsome man looked back at you.

After an awkward beat of silence he stretched his hand out towards you “Apologies sweetheart, should’a start with the name, huh?” Tilting his head slightly “Name’s Joel, Joel Miller.” At that you let your hand slip onto his outstretched one. His hand was so huge, warm and calloused. Shaking his hand kinda calmed you down Joel Miller was absolutely lovely. “Nice to finally meet the famous Joel Miller that my Dad keeps yapping about nonstop.” You giggled while cheekily winking at him.

That must’ve been a key moment for everything that was to follow. You’d see Joel again and again. Whether due to your Dad inviting the single, 44 year old Man over or due to you having to deliver your Dad’s forgotten food.

The tension was slowly building higher and higher between you two until one day in Joel’s office you could no longer hold back.

Joel stood in his office with you by his side, in front of a pinboard containing all sorts of information about his newest project. He was animatedly explaining processes you’d never understand in a million years. You actually kind of tuned him out and just enjoyed being unbelievably close to him.

Then his face kinda looked confused. Oh no he must’ve asked you a question. Shaking your head you say “Mhhh sorry, what did you just ask?” Joel tilts his head towards you the way he always does and then states “Ya didn’t listen to a single word I just said, right Sweetcheeks?”

He always comes up with the most ridiculous nicknames that cause a vicious pull in your lower stomach. You lost count of how many conversations with him ended in drenched panties.

“I….i -of course I was listening to you, why wouldn’t I?” You stammered a bit offensively, surely he’d see right through you.

“Hm kay, so what was I talkin bout, gorgeous?” He’s teasing at this point.

“Ok I wasn’t listening but that is a lot I don’t get anyway so can you really blame me, Miller?” You fired back.

“So, whatcha thinkin bout inside of that pretty little head of yours, instead of listening to me?” You just scoff at him “Let’s not pretend you don’t know exactly what I was thinking about Joel.” Pointing one accusing finger at his broad chest. At that motion Joel enveloped your wrist in one of his massive hands, pulling you closer that way. Until you were right in front of him, only a tiny space left between your faces. “Why don’t ya tell me whatcha thinkin about Baby?”

He must know, just by seeing how your eyes keep slipping down to glance at his pillowy lips, what is going through your head. You’ve been dancing around this topic, the tension, the pull towards each other, how forbidden it is for all of this to happen. Joel is your Dads Best friend and he’s twice as old as you are but you know that if you don’t kiss him right now you’ll go insane. It’s all you think about, kissing him and then some more.

For the first time in years you actually consider letting someone get so close again. Joel would never hurt you like the ones before him did, no, he’s mature and wouldn’t play any of those stupid games. You know how kind, considerate, protective and caring he is for the ones he loves. Sure it won’t be easy to explain any of this to your Dad but you can’t think about that right now, no, you have to kiss Joel, it’s the last thought before leaning up to push your lips against his.

One chaste kiss that erupted into a full blown make out session that only got interrupted by some frantic knocks at Joel’s Office door.

From that day on those meetings became a routine, in his office, his truck, his house or sometimes he’d take you out of town for a super secret Date. The thrill of hiding with the possibility of getting caught soon turned into shame for lying to your Dad so much. You wanted to tell him even though it scared you more than anything how he might react.

Surprisingly though he didn’t completely freak out, of course he was shocked and confused how this combination came to be. More than anything he took the lying personally and made clear that as long as you are happy, so is he. If Joel was the one then so be it, besides your Dad has a lot of respect for Joel and knows you're in good hands.

After 3 months of being an official couple Joel asked if you’d be happy to move in with him. You had to think about it for a long time, feeling quite guilty about leaving your Dad behind but he reassured you that he would be fine on his own. He told you that a grown woman like you shouldn’t have to live with her boring old man anymore than you already did.

So you moved into Joel’s house. And what followed were months filled with wonderful memories. Many barbecues were held, your Dad and Joel always standing at the grill together, each nursing on their beer bottles.

Whenever you wanted to try a new recipe your Dad was invited over so you could make sure he still ate enough, the night always ending with you sending him home with a bunch of Tupperware's filled to the brim with deliciously homemade meals.

When you wanted to paint the walls in the living room a new shade your Dad came over to help.

Making sure his baby girl is happy and content was your Dads number one priority.

Then one day you went over to his house to catch up a little bit, just you two having some Dad and Daughter one on one quality time.

He was so excited when you told him that Joel and you want to have a baby.

He told you what a great mother you’d make because of how wonderful you always have been with kids and how much you always wanted to have kids of your own.

To others it might’ve been weird to share such an information with their Dad but you have such a close bond that it’s not weird at all.

You were so happy on the drive home cuz you know what great grandpa he’d make.

It must've been exactly one week later when you woke up with an indescribable feeling in your chest. As if the world spun a little slower, or the air felt more compromising…whatever it was you couldn’t stop feeling like something had happened.

Your intuition only perked up more when your Dad didn’t show up for the usual Sunday’s breakfast you recently started doing.

After 8 calls that nobody picked up you told Joel you would drive over there and as if he knew that you would need him for whatever was awaiting you there, he came with you.

The closer you got to the house the worse you felt. Hands sweaty, heartbeat racing and your stomach felt like turning over at the sight of the house. Usually he would be up by now playing his obnoxiously loud music that you’d hear on the street through the open kitchen window. Instead it was eerily quiet.

When Joel had parked the car he told you to wait for him but you couldn't. You just ran up the steps, unlocked the door with your spare key and bolted through the house as if on instinct you skipped up the steps to his bedroom. You flung the door open and there he was. Just laying on his designated side with his glasses still on and one hand on his chest across his heart. He looked like he was just sleeping but deep down you knew he was not. You can’t remember a lot, only that you immediately bolted towards the bathroom to empty your stomach out, Joel came up too and tried comforting you through the heaving. Then he tried to get you away from the scene. Joel took care of everything while you just locked up inside of yourself. No tears, no screams, no words, not a singular reaction just nothing. Joel had never seen you look so…empty.

Later on the authorities would say it’s just natural cause, he simply passed in his sleep, nothing dramatic. Not the kind of closure you would have wanted. It didn’t matter how “normal” it was, your world stopped spinning entirely. Everyone seemed to go one but you just stopped.

Suddenly without any foreshadowing everything was completely flipped on its head. You loved him so much, he was your best friend. He told you all the time how much he loved you even with all your struggles. You’d never have to prove your worth to him; he'd love you no matter what. In his eyes you were a gift, opposite to your mother that looked at you as a burden. You never felt loved by her. She took away your precious childhood and forced you to grow up quickly. So you could take care of her. Even when you told her how close to the edge you were she always made everything about herself. Out of your parents the one person that actually wanted you, died and with him so did your willingness to continue with the fight against all your inner demons.

You lost yourself after that. For weeks you just slept, barely moving, only getting up to use the toilet and perhaps eat something small and drink a bit. Joel had to shower you, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it yourself. Who you were before losing your Dad was gone, as if you died with him.

Joel tried everything in his power to make you feel better. One time he wanted to paint with you since you loved to do that, but the moment your eyes caught sight of the little paint pots you ran for the toilet to empty out your stomach. Later on he realized his mistake, you used to paint with your Dad a lot all the way back in your childhood so of course that would not make you feel better. Then he tried playing music for you either your favorite songs from your playlist or on his guitar. Nothing, you just continued to be completely catatonic.

Then the funereal came, a day Joel dreaded he was not sure you’d be able to handle it. In the morning he made your hair and applied a bit of makeup, he watched you do your little routine often enough to know what he was doing. Afterwards he dressed you in a simple black dress and equally black flats. Walking only worked since Joel kept you upright.

Sitting in the front row bench at the chapel you looked like a ghost. Pale and sunken in. You were asked to do a speech about your Dad but that would’ve been impossible. So Joel went up to do it instead. You just stared straight ahead at the coffin, not sparing a glance towards Joel.

And once everything was over, the people, mostly his colleagues, paid him their respects. When everyone was gone you stayed and just laid your head on the coffin silently sobbing, which was the most emotion Joel had seen in weeks from you. Only he was to witness this vulnerability.

Staring at the completed grave was just as daunting. His name is written in cold stone. All that’s left is this hole in the earth and a stone on top with his name.

You walked away without sparring another glance toward the grave.

Then it seemed like you were getting better. You spoke more, ate more and slept less. You even searched out body contact with Joel, though it was just some cuddling and gentle kissing. But he took it as a step in the right direction.

You almost fully returned to your old self but Joel could have not predicted how wrong he would be.

He should’ve listened to his gut that told him something was off when you didn’t kiss him goodbye before he left for work that morning.

You know how hard it will be but there’s no other choice. You have to get away, you have to leave so he can find someone better, someone who deserves a man like Joel Miller, someone less troubled, someone normal.

Those fears you have now, always were inside of you but with your Dad passing they just all came to the surface. Grief killed you, it took everything, it’s as if you're in a room with a beautiful glowing bulb and some dark entity just rips it away. You're left in the dark and not even Joel’s light can make it better.

You lost something nothing can replace.

All your life you feared what would happen if you’d lose someone like this without any way of getting closure, he died without any warning just poof and gone he was.

Your final goodbye was never said.

Now you can’t remember how he used to be, you only remember him laying in his bed without moving a damn muscle,dead. You were the one to find him and even though it was not some unsettling scene it’s not leaving your head. You try hard to remember how he spoke that sarcastic tone he usually used.

You can’t remember his face anymore, not even looking at pictures brings him back and at the same time he’s all you think about as if he’s haunting you. You hate him for leaving you so early. Why him? What kind of curse was laid upon you that everything always seems to fall apart when you think it’s finally working out.

It’s as if some higher up can sense that you are happy and content with your life and they don’t want to give you that sorta life.

The moment your brain processed what had happened you fell into the darkness like a big hole that sucked you in without any way out. Anyone around you could be another loss so what do you do? You leave, you disappear so no one gets hurt by whatever is wrong with you.

Looking at yourself hurts because it’s him you see and it’s him you hear in your head he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sometimes you feel like you’re hallucinating because you swear to see him round the corner, you can almost hear him call out but when you try to look there’s nothing.

Sometimes but much rarer than you’d like to admit you’ve visited the grave, sometimes you speak to no one. Sometimes you scream in agony till you almost lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen. Sometimes you just stare.

It’s a sick twist of events considering how often he walked on cemeteries with you as a child. You didn’t understand the meaning behind them back then, you only loved to admire the beautiful flower ornaments laying on top of the graves. Your dad always told you how soothing these walks seemed for you.

One time he took you and you had so much fun admiring the flowers giggling and smiling. Your dad wanted to tell you off since it’s a place where people grieved especially with a woman sitting nearby crying. He went to apologize to her on your behalf but the woman told him not to. She thought it was an uplifting sight to see little you having so much joy about the flowers, that’s a story he always kept telling you again and again.

All your life those walks soothed your frayed mind. The quiet somber energy is something no other place could compare with. Now it’s the last place you’d wanna be in. The moment you step foot on the property, the panic starts to creep up on you. The closer you get to him the worse it gets.

Sometimes the voices in your head scream to just start digging into the earth to get him out of that godforsaken coffin. Look at him, do something to bring him back. If the devil would show up to take you instead of your dad you’d do it. He was a troubled man but he tried so hard. He did not deserve any of this, he should’ve been here for all the good times yet to come.

You imagined him walking you down the aisle, having that stupid first look with him where he’d surely try so hard not to cry but looking at his baby in a wedding dress would’ve been way too much for him to stay strong. You imagined having your first dance with him.

You imagined how excited he would’ve been to hear that he was going to be a grandpa. In your head you can see him with a little baby that looks just like you. But none of this will ever happen; he's dead.

Sometimes it’s hard to even look at Joel. He's connected to him as well; he was his boss and one of his closest friends. It’s not fair you know but in your head you see Joel and your dad laughing on the porch about some old men shit like always making their awful dad jokes. Or drinking a beer together or looking to fix something around the house.

The house, Joel’s house and a place your dad spent a lot of time in. Walking through the hallways is not pleasant anymore, the couch is avoided as best as you can. He used to sit here all the time watching soccer games with Joel. The chair at the dining table he always sat on had to be removed simply seeing it made you sick and eating was already a hefty struggle since he passed.

He left a mark anywhere and all of it was getting too much. The pressure in your head becomes more and more unbearable.

Even though you tried to push all those negative festering thoughts away the voices could not be shut up no matter what you tried.

The worst was when they started to go for Joel, suddenly all you could think of was how he’d die. Joel is only 10 years your dad’s junior. So if he died then why not Joel too.

So many horrible scenarios played out inside your mind. Car accident, some freak accident on a construction site, getting attacked by multiple people, torturing him slowly, beating him to death, his head all split open, blood everywhere, or what if he gets shot by some crazy Texan who loves guns. There really was not a scenario left to imagine.

Nightmares in the most cruel ways destroying you slowly from the inside out. And that just proved how one thing can make an avalanche of events happen. He was your purpose for most of your life, you only continued to play this game called life because you could not leave him. And now he left you.

One time he told you how if it weren’t for you he’d be dead or in jail since there would be no reason to give a damn about his life. He was just like you, living for others instead of for himself. No one understood you like him. Somewhere deep inside you know he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself so much but that singular fact does nothing compared to all the ever suffocating darkness.

You’d give anything to have him back, feel his warm embrace one more time, hear him say how much he loves you, have him tell you one of his stories, have him tell you it’s going to be alright, take one more look and inhale his signature scent. You have one of his shirts doused in his favorite perfume, it’s what you used to do in all those years you lived far away from him during childhood. Now it does not help like it did back then. What remains of him? Nothing, all of his stuff shoved into a storage unit looked up, buried just like him.

You know Joel tried hard to be supportive and not push you too hard. Sometimes you wished he would’ve just screamed at you, slapped some sense into you and told you to stop being such a disgraceful mess. That’s what they would’ve done.

But Joel is not like that, he helped you so much. Putting himself so far behind. So much so that you feel sorry he has to deal with an ill girlfriend, that’s what you are, a mental wreck.

He deserves better treatment than the lackluster one you have given him in the last months. He deserves to be free of your weight dragging him down towards the abyss. Even though he told you in the beginning that he loves you with all the baggage and all the challenges, you cannot let him continue to waste his time.

Besides you’re convinced he’d leave you anyway like everyone before one way or another you end up alone. You have no control of the situation but if you leave then you have the control it still hurts but it’s the only option in your head.

The decision was made weeks ago, it felt wrong to lie to Joel to keep him thinking everything is fine only to then rip it all away but perhaps it’ll make him hate you so it’s easier. If he hates you then he will be able to move on with his life. Burn all you build together down.

And then you knew today would be the day. You couldn’t bear to kiss him in the morning; it would only make everything harder. Some time after he left you got up. One last time using the shower you both occasionally used together having foam party’s, giggling, washing each other and then kissing, touching till it leads to you with your cheek squished against the tile and Joel behind you ferociously hitting that special spot inside of you, till you both reach your high. Now you’re alone staring at that specific spot in the tiles, too much so you turn away.

One last time looking at yourself in the mirror above the sink, the mirror Joel and you both looked into while brushing your teeth. You dry your hair, put on fresh clothes, nothing too dramatic, just some simple black leggings and a black cotton shirt.

Then you start packing the most important stuff into two big suitcases. Basically only clothes, some hygiene products and a few trinkets that you don’t want to leave behind. The rest can be either sold by Joel or thrown away. You don’t care, the less holding you back the better.

Once the suitcases are packed you haul them down the stairs towards the front door. And then you just wait. For hours you sit at the dining table just staring ahead at the wall opposite where so many photos of Joel and you hang so many memories and you’ll destroy it.

You should feel bad but these days you barely feel anything, numb is what you think you feel most of the time. Maybe that’s what your ex meant when he said that you don’t own a heart, that you’re a cold blooded mean person. Someone who plays with people until they stop serving their purpose, that's what he said.

It’s almost 8pm, Joel should be home soon. You have practically studied the words you’ll say. An Uber already ordered to arrive 15 minutes after he should get home. Not much to talk about the less the easier so you can just walk away.

Then you hear it, Joel’s truck driving up the driveway and coming to a halt. How he gets out and slams the door shut behind him. His keys jiggling while he searches for the right one. Unlocking the door and closing it behind him. You don’t turn towards him although you know he must be looking at you in astonishment. He can not miss the suitcases and something about the lack of his words tells you he knows exactly what this means.

Joel cannot believe what he walked into, he knew something was off but just thought that he was starting to imagine things but here you are sitting like an empty shell of yourself and the packed suitcases can only mean one thing, he tries his hardest not to freak out that won’t make anything better.

He starts walking towards you, slowly, once he reaches the threshold of the living room he speaks up

“Moon, Darling what’s goin on?” He immediately continues “What’s with those suitcases, huh?” He can’t even hide the nervous quiver in his voice.

You turn to finally look at him with empty eyes, get up and walk up to him and then “I have to leave.” And with that you move to walk past him but Joel stops you by reaching for you arm, you immediately pull your arm away hissing “Don’t fuckin touch me Joel.”

He’s stunned by this harsh rejection, his expression full of hurt. Yet he persists by getting close, grabbing your face with both hands, his warm calloused hands that you love- loved so much. He urges “Talk to me baby, what is going on, why would ya need to leave?” Even with everything he tried to be gentle, his voice panicked yet almost just a whisper.

He can see in your eyes some sadness creeping in when you mutter “Joel..-“ you take one deep inhale “-…this House no longer feels like home.” He can tell even with how hard you try to appear collected that it pains you to say those words. “Wh…what do ya mean? If- if the house is the problem we can just move.” You cut in “No Joel, no i..I don’t love you anymore. Ok? I can’t stay here any longer.”

It’s a punch right into his gut there’s no way you are serious. “Baby all ya stuff is here you can’t just leave.” He tries to find something to buy him time. “I don’t care Joel just…just throw it away or sell it or I don’t know fuckin burn it. I won’t need it anyway.” He’s so shocked that you use that to continue your path towards the front door and the waiting suitcases.

On top of one suitcase lies a tote bag containing your phone, a jacket and your wallet sits. You swing it over your shoulder, you can hear that Joel has started crying, his huffed breaths are all you can hear.

That’s when a car starts honking outside, the Uber is here, you go to open the front door twisting the knob you can hear him walking up behind you with heavy steps. You open the door anyway with him at your back and you move the suitcases out onto the porch. Joel’s trying his hardest to contain his sobbing to a minimum but it’s hard he loves you so much, he thinks about the ring in his wardrobe hidden behind stuff you’d never go for and he thinks about the talks you two had of having a baby. If only he knew

His heart is breaking watching you walk away from all of it. You turn to him, one last time, he looks shattered, you've never seen Joel like this, you give him a nod as if to give him the ok to touch you one more time if only to give some kind of closure. He moves closer without hesitation and takes your face in his hands once more and leans his forehead against yours. His frantic breathing collides with your face and then “Wh…why Baby just why?” He sobs A simple question and you decide to give him at least something you reach up to put your hands over his to get him to open his eyes.

“Joel I’m not myself anymore, i-…i feel so all over the place and I’m so scared.” Tears start clouding your sight. “I need to be away from everything. I need to be alone far away to just maybe find some peace. I need to be gone.” And the tears start falling “No matter where I look I can’t stop seeing him and it’s crushing me.” Now you're full on crying. He’s processing what you’re saying and somewhere in his mind he understands that, still he can’t believe this is it.

“Ok-….if ya need to go at least promise you’ll give some sorta sign ya alright?” He looks desperate “Please Baby….please just a text something anything.” You only nod and then pull out of his grasp, take the suitcases and shakinly make your way to the Uber. Joel can only watch and hope you’ll stick to your words, hope that you’ll find some kind of way back to yourself.

The Uber driver gets out as you approach and opens the trunk helping to put the suitcases in there. Then you walk to the right door on the back, open it and hesitate for a moment. Joel holds his breath but you continue to slip into the backseat. Closing the door and off the car goes. Joel doesn’t know for how much longer he stood on the porch long after the car was gone. What was there is no more.

Npt: @almostfoxglove @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell (honestly I’m tagging pretty randomly, sorry) 💙

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

#Joel Miller #joel miller one shot #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #angst #almostfoxgloveangstchallenge #Mina’s writing #my writing

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 6 months ago

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Good Omens meeting in Prague 31.5. - 2.6.2024

Thank you so much @cliopadra and others for making this weekend such a joyful experience! 🥰

31.5. Friday

I've travelled from Brno to Prague by train with three other czech GO fans I hadn't met before but we booked 4 seats around the same table so we could had a nice chat on the way to Prague. I've learned that Brno is too damn small since there is a university faculty and people connecting us all. :D <3

The meeting at the evening meeting all others (there was cca 40 of us) was at Andělský Pivovar restaurant in Prague (which could be translated as Angel Brewery :)) I was absolutely ngked by the wonderful bags cliopadra made us with a 'feather pen', their stickers and a small black booklet which each had a different front (with quotes and motives from Good Omens), I chose To The World :) 😊 and also and further during the weekend I got more gifts from fellow fans, NGK, thank you!

1.6. Saturday

We were supposed to have a picnic this day on Petřín (a hill in Prague) but some demon was messing too much with the rainy weather so we had an indoor picnic :). There was so much food since everybody brought something! :D <3 I wish I had bigger stomach to try it all :D. The wings gingerbread were amazing and I felt like at Christmas :) <3.

2.6. Sunday

We had a walk through the Prague centre themed about angels and demons and the final lunch. The funniest moment was when we went to St. Nicolaus church and I am admiring the frescos and ceiling and I hear laughing so I look at my right and our cosplay Crowley is surreptitiously hopping on one leg. All of us started laughing so rather we left the church :D <3.

During the weekend we also send the black booklets clio gave us around so people could leave a message. These are in mine. Also I asked Clio to draw me Izzy from OFMD which they did absolutely perfectly, I am in love with it! (thank you Clio! :) <3) (I asked if they can doodle me Izzy and they asked, 'What is your favourite ship?' and I said, 'Just Izzy and happiness.' :D <3)

I am still half ded and my social battery is empty but it was wonderful to meet all of you! ❤🥰

#good omens #fan meeting #fuckyeahgoodomens #cliopadra #prague #czech #2024 prague meeting #wahoo!#<3

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egg-emperor · 13 days ago

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All the newly shown Eggman concept sketches in SXSG are so cool, especially for how they're for Shadow 2005 💜

This goes so fucking hard my edgy black heart lives for it lol

Wish I knew what all of this said but I love this silly guy 💕

It appeared that his left brow ridge had accidentally been erased as there was some residue, so I copied and pasted the right one to restore it

I always love to see my boys togetherrr

Eggman: I COMMAND you, Shadow!

Shadow: :\

This one is neat for the concepts of inside his base in the game

Especially for this one for Eggman sitting in it in the chair that looks way too small for him in game while Shadow warps in!

I can't say for sure without the translation of what he's saying (really wish I had those for all of these) but it seems he was originally supposed to be sat there while Shadow entered, unlike the final game:

Eggman is already outside in his Egg Mobile, as we also see depicted in this concept, on the same page

It might be hard to tell because it's so small and pretty blurry (because the collection room doesn't even let you zoom in on Shadow Gens damn it) but that is Eggman in his Egg Mobile from the side outside the window lol

Just like this shot in the final game, from the same cutscene where he warps in:

So it seems this was indeed how this cutscene was originally supposed to go. Was Eggman originally going to be sat there while Shadow entered and then he tried to hop in the Egg Mobile and get away, perhaps? XD

Again, hard to tell when I don't know what the dialogue says but this is so awesome! New glimpses into Eggman in Shadow 2005, one of my favorite games and Eggman portrayals ever in 2024 is so cool :'D

And this one is REALLY interesting for how out of left field it is. It's drawn quite like a cover concept

The left side is definitely supposed to be Gerald. Note the lack of goggles and how his stache is shaped like Gerald's Shadow 2005 model that swoops downward more than Eggman's. Also lol he has white sclera just like Eggman does, checkmate :P But he appears to be somehow modified with metal with the scratches, bolts, and seams- or it's some kind of metal version of him perhaps?

Because Metal Sonic is there too, beheaded with Shadow looking badass holding it. Which is something else that's super intriguing, since Metal of course isn't in Shadow 2005 at all!

And also what's supposedly part of the same concept batch, titled "Shadow the Hedgehog stage concept", there's some metallic equivalent of the Biolizard, with Shadow's version of the fight and Finalhazard recreated

Wtf was going on in the early drafts for this game? Some type of possibly metallic Gerald, Metal Sonic, some metallic/robotic Biolizard inspired creation but it's a different creature? I'm so fucking intrigued!

I've always figured that Eggman and the androids were originally going to have a bigger role in Shadow 2005's story with how they set them up in Heroes and this heavily supports that in a completely new and different way like holy shit

Or there's the possibly that this was for a completely different game they considered before but it is listed just as "Shadow the Hedgehog concept" unlike how other concepts in the collection room art gallery have different game titles listed

Either way I'm gonna be thinking about this forever

#dr. eggman #eggman #dr eggman #dr robotnik #sonic the hedgehog #my post #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog 2005 #shadow the hedgehog game #sonic x shadow generations #sonic generations #professor gerald robotnik #gerald robotnik #biolizard #metal sonic

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trickphotography2 · 9 months ago

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D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 18

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 8.2k (sorry, it's a long one)

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 17 | Series Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 18

Jake grabbed the curtain surrounding his berth and tugged it into place. He had the room to himself for what felt like the first time in forever, with Rooster and Fritz finally out at the same time. Fritz was doing nighttime refueling training, and they were doing a horror movie night since it was Halloween, but Jake backed out at the last minute, saying he was tired. The look Rooster gave him let Jake know the other pilot knew he was full of shit.

After slipping his headphones on, he pulled up his phone photo album and tapped on the protected folder, typing in the password. At the top was the video he’d requested and hadn’t had a chance to watch yet, just above the dirty photos you’d texted him on his 36th birthday. His hand rested low on his stomach as he held the phone up and tapped to start the video.

“A bet’s a bet,” you sighed, lifting the camera to show yourself in the bathroom mirror. You wore his blue service jacket, sleeves bunched around your wrists and buttons straining against your stomach. Taking a step back, you put his cap on your head, turning to the side and smirking at the mirror. “This what you had in mind, Tex? Or…” your fingers moved to undo the buttons, and the material fell away to show your rounded stomach.

“Fuck,” Jake breathed, palm itching to run over your skin. His own was a poor substitution as he rucked up his shirt, running his fingers along the waistband of his sweats and wishing he felt your touch.

“Hope you don’t mind,” you purred, nuzzling the jacket collar. “But I sprayed some of your fancy cologne on this so I can pretend you’re here.” With a hand resting on your stomach, you turned back to face the mirror, and he spied the red toy between your legs. Biting back a groan, Jake remembered how the advertisement said it would hit your g-spot just right while sucking your clit.

He’d never been jealous of a hunk of silicone before.

After 2.5 months at sea, he had a harder time remembering your rich taste on his tongue. Jake could have sworn that it was etched into his core memories, but the longer he was away from you, the harder it was to remember. But he comforted himself with the knowledge that he would have to redouble his efforts when he was home to make sure that it was permanently seared into his brain.

He also wondered if you tasted different now that you were six months pregnant. Jake watched as you peeled his jacket back to show your breasts, his mouth watering at the sight. They were so much bigger than the last time he’d seen them. Touched them. Tasted them.

You were gorgeous. So pretty and growing big with his baby. When your hand lifted to circle your nipple before pinching it, his hand slipped into his boxers to grip his cock. He wanted it to be his touch that made you bite your lip. A smirk crossed your mouth as you slid a hand into the coat pocket and pulled out a small remote. Cocking an eyebrow, you chuckled, “So this might be one of my favorite thing you’ve … ”

The smirk fell from your mouth, replaced with a look of confusion as your hand dropped to your stomach. After tossing the remote onto the sink, you flipped the camera and propped it against the mirror, shaking back the sleeves of his jacket to press both hands to your stomach.

“I could have…” you said softly. Jake sat up, nearly banging his head on the top bunk as he watched your expression turn to one of awe. Moving both hands to the left side of your stomach, you beamed at the camera. “Babe, I think Sloane just kicked!”

Jake laughed, running a hand through his hair. You’d told him that you felt little flutters and small movements but had been getting worried about not feeling her move as much. Dr. Shearer had assured you that it was normal to take longer to recognize the movements in your first pregnancy, but that had done little to quiet that fear.

And now, just when Mama was about to have some fun and let Daddy see, Sloane had decided to make her presence known.

“I, uh…” you said, brushing tears from your cheeks. “I’m gonna owe you a video because I feel awkward doing this now. Love you, babe.” When you stepped closer to the camera, he could see your chin wobbling, and his smile dropped. But you grinned, the emotion not quite meeting your eyes, and blew a kiss at the camera before turning it off.

Jolting awake, you choked on a sob. Tears dampened your pregnancy pillow as you reached for the empty side of the bed, fingers curling in the cold sheets.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You forced your eyes open, afraid to close them, and slip back into sleep.

For the last few days, you’d been having vivid dreams. At first, it had been weird but pleasant - there’d been a couple of dreams about Jake being home and setting up the nursery. Another one was hanging out at the beach with your parents. But after seeing a video on TikTok about a neighbor running to support her friend when she was notified of her husband dying in a training accident, you’d had nothing but nightmares of that very scenario.

Of sitting on the couch and reading. The doorbell ringing. Opening the door to Javy standing beside a Chaplin, tears streaking his face. Hearing him say your name softly. “I’m so sorry. He’s gone.”

And, without fail, you would wake up when your knees hit the floor, Javy’s arms gently guiding and trying to protect you.

After one of those dreams, you didn’t want to sleep. So, instead, you’d pace the house or go into the nursery. Your parents had sent you a gliding chair that Phoenix and Payback had moved for you, and it was becoming your unofficial second bed. Being surrounded by the things that Jake had touched - had gotten ready for your daughter - helped to soothe some of the anxiety. And while you might wake up sore and stiff from sleeping in the chair, it was better than lying awake in an empty bed.

Lifting the arm of the pillow, you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed. A glance at your phone showed that it was after 3:00AM - three hours before your alarm was set to go off. Sighing, you stood and retreated to the bathroom, pausing to grab a sweater that Jake had left, and you’d officially stretched out too much to return to him when he got back. After spritzing his cologne on it and splashing water on your face, you grabbed your phone and walked to the nursery.

The nightlight projected galaxies on the ceiling as you settled into the glider, hand resting on your stomach. Sloane was quiet, apparently sleeping after putting on a show for her aunt and uncles over lunch. The Daggers had dragged her to the base food court with a bribe of French Fries soaked in malt vinegar from Charlie’s. When you’d felt Sloane move, there’d been some light-hearted shoving of one another to see if they, too, could feel her. Eating with two hands on your belly was awkward, but Sloane had apparently been feeling the love. She had made sure that her family felt every wiggle and kick.

You tried not to think too hard about Jake missing all of it, but it was hard. Not only was he missing out on seeing his daughter grow, but things were getting more challenging to handle alone. Grocery shopping was a pain, as bending to get anything from a lower shelf was difficult. It seemed like you couldn’t go outside without some well-intentioned stranger giving you advice or - creepily - wanting to touch your stomach. Even taking a bath was getting harder due to the struggle of getting out of the tub, which sucked because a lukewarm one - pregnancy had robbed you of your scalding hot water - was one of the few things that helped with insomnia.

Pulling up your phone, you scrolled through social media before flipping to the news. When it was nothing but negative stuff, you locked the screen and placed it on the window sill, folding your hands over your stomach. Forcing away the lingering images from your dream, you instead pictured Jake pacing the living room, gently bouncing Sloane. Of standing side-by-side and struggling to give her a bath in the sink. Slathering sunscreen on chubby cheeks and spending a day at the beach.

For as much as he was missing, you thought, there was so much more that he would be there for.

But even that thought was cold comfort tonight as an image from a previous dream of attending Jake’s funeral intruded. Tears trailed down your cheeks as you rocked, wishing Sloane would move and distract you.

But instead, it was your phone that lit up.

I know it’s late but I just got to watch your video. You looked sexy as hell, darling. So glad you caught our little girl moving, though. Love you so much, and I’ll talk to you soon.

The screen dimmed, and you quickly snatched up your phone to type back I love you too. The message was marked as read instantly, and three dots appeared.

You’re up early. Is everything okay?

Fingers hovering over the screen, you hesitated. And then the screen lit up again with an incoming call. Jake’s grinning face made tears spring to your eyes again. Answering it, you quickly put the call on speaker and softly said, “Hello?”

“Hey, darlin’. Why is my sleepy girl up so early?” His voice, with a gently teasing tone, made you inhale sharply. Halfway across the world, Jake sat up - again narrowly avoiding hitting his head - and frowned. The teasing was gone when he said your name. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“N-nothing. Just had a nightmare,” you croaked, pausing to clear your throat. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“What kind of nightmare?”

“The bad kind.” Jake’s hand flexed in his sheets, swallowing hard as he heard a plane landing overhead. He made an inquiring sound, and you tried to keep the anxiety from your voice as you asked, “You’re okay? Nothing’s wrong?”

“Me?” he sounded surprised. “Yeah, I’m fine. Is that… is that what you dreamed about?” When you hummed a response, he sighed. “Darlin’, don’t you worry about me. I’m completely fine, other than missin’ you and Sloane like crazy.”

“You better stay that way, Jacob Michael,” you sniffled, hearing his groan.

“Don’t cry, baby. I promise you, I’m okay. And I’m being careful.” And he was - to the extent that Rooster had made a crack about sitting on the perch during their last dog fight. But after watching a call that was too close between young pilots trying to show off, Jake wasn’t willing to take the risk. The safety briefing that afternoon had been a review of the basics. He may have accidentally, on purpose, kicked the chair of the idiot pilots when they groaned and pretended to doze, nodding and flipping a toothpick in his mouth when they turned to glare at him. If they weren’t going to take the war game dress rehearsals seriously, they would be the first ones shot down.

He’d already talked to Mav to ensure he and Rooster were in the air with the idiots next time. A little humbling would be good for them. With his wingman watching his six, it’d be easily accomplished while keeping a safer distance.

“You better be,” you mumbled. “How have you been?”

“Not bad,” he replied, updating you on bouncing around the Pacific. They’d steamed past the Korean coast and were headed back out to sea and would be docking in Yokosuka, Japan in a few weeks, just in time for Thanksgiving. After months on the carrier, he looked forward to standing on dry land again, especially with the promise of six days in port with liberty.

There was silence on the other end of the line, and he wondered if you’d fallen back asleep. But then, you spoke. “Sloane’s moving. I think she can hear her daddy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your tone was bittersweet, and he let out a breath.

“Wish I could feel her.”

“Me too, babe.” There was a long pause before you asked, “Do you know how much liberty you’ll have in Yokosuka?”

“At least four days. Why? Want me to pick something up for you?” There was another long silence.

“I have a doctor’s appointment coming up.” Jake frowned at the change of topic.

“Yeah? Everything good?”

“It’s the glucose test and a check-up. But…” He heard you blow out a shuttering breath. “How would you feel about me asking if I could fly out to see you?”

Jake grunted in pain when he hit his head on the overhead berth. Scrubbing a hand over what he knew would be a knot, he asked, “Are you serious? Would it even be safe for you to fly?”

“I don’t know, but I can ask.”

“Darlin’ - ” Jake choked on the word, trying to hold back the wave of hope and happiness, not wanting to feel it in case the doc said it was too dangerous. “I miss you. I want you here if it’s safe.”

“Yeah?”

“Always want you with me, darlin’.” Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he quickly swiped away the tear that slid down his cheek. He couldn’t get his hopes up that he would see his wife. That he would get to have some small part in this pregnancy. He could feel his baby move.

“I always want you with me, too, babe.”

Gathering your hair in one hand, you fanned the back of your neck while walking the flight line. The temperature was creeping over 70 degrees, and you were sweating while walking between the hangers with some of the mechanics. They were auditing their tools to order replacements now that the new fiscal year had begun. Already on the top of the list were new trucks for the depot. There, you’d gotten an earful on issues with the new plane towing machine, meaning you needed to call the contractor to come back and inspect it.

Overhead, a jet flew, lowering the landing gear. Sloane moved, and you couldn’t help but smile. She was usually active when you were on the flight line, and you knew that Jake would love that fact.

Knowing you’d see him in two weeks made things easier. When you’d broached the topic with Dr. Shearer, she’d cautioned that you were tiptoeing the edge of the safe times to travel internationally while pregnant. Generally, women were warned not to travel overseas from 28 to 35 weeks pregnant, and you’d be right at 28 weeks when you flew out. But after reviewing your labs, talking for a while, and a few tears, she’d agreed that your mental health was an important factor in allowing you to go. After giving you a list of precautions to take, including bringing a copy of your medical records in case anything happened while you were in Japan, she agreed to sign off on the trip.

However, Jake had been more cautious when you relayed the news. As excited as he was, he didn’t want to put any additional stress on you or Sloane by having you travel almost 20 hours one-way. When he’d pointed out that you’d be traveling about 40 hours for only 4 days, you’d told him to kindly shut the hell up while fighting back tears. Yes, it wouldn’t be the most comfortable time to travel, but you were frustrated with him trying to move the goalpost - Dr. Shearer cleared you, and you wanted to see him.

“Do you even want me to come?” you demanded, unable to keep the hurt and frustration from your voice.

“Of course, darlin’. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I wasn’t aware that you became an OB in the last three months, Dr. Seresin.” He’d sighed your name at that.

“I’m just worried about you coming all this way for just four days.”

“Worst case scenario, I go into labor there, and you actually get to see your daughter born.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Jake said.

“Fine. But Dr. Shearer said I can go as long as I don’t have any issues between now and flying out, and as long as you’re still getting off that ship, I’m going to be there.”

So you were taking Dr. Shearer’s advice - and requirement - to stay healthy to receive the medical clearance and for Jake’s peace of mind. As much as you wanted to go home and sleep after work, you’d started walking around the neighborhood again. Thankfully, your diabetes test had been negative. However, you were still carefully watching what you ate and made sure to cut back on how many runs you were making for salty french fries at night, no matter how much Sloane wanted them. And you’d increased your water intake, which had the added benefit of making you pee more frequently. It was inconvenient, given how often you were out on the flight line.

Blowing out a breath, you let your hair drop and shifted, feeling the familiar need to head back inside to the nearest bathroom. When Sloane shifted again, you felt a twinge in your back and dug your thumb into it. As much as you wanted to head back inside, you needed to complete the audit. One of the perks of working for the federal government was the number of holidays - and therefore days off - that occurred between September and February, but it was hell on getting contracts done. And with your due date in February, you wanted to ensure you had all your ducks in a row for when you went on maternity leave.

But staring down a three-day weekend for Veteran’s Day, you were looking forward to relaxing away from the heat and work stress. Javy would come over on Saturday to mow the lawn, and there were tentative plans to go to a movie with Bob on Sunday. Mostly, you just wanted to relax. Insomnia was taking a toll on you, and you were ready to curl up on the couch while watching television and napping. Jake had mentioned possibly doing a video call this weekend, which would have been an added bonus.

But those plans disappeared when you turned your husband’s truck into the neighborhood and saw a strange car in your driveway. Unfortunately, it was right in front of where you needed to go to park in the garage. A peculiar sense of deja vu hit you as you stopped beside them and glanced into the passenger seat, spotting your mother-in-law.

“Fuck,” you hissed, forcing a smile when she turned to look at you. Lifting a hand, you waved before turning off the ignition. Resting on your leg was a small, silver piece of confetti shaped like a bell - even months after the Daggers had dumped them in Jake’s truck after the wedding, you’d found one in the cab. It was almost like the universe knew that you needed some small reminder of your husband on a day like today. Shoving it into your pocket, you unbuckled yourself and reached for your work bag in the passenger seat.

Sarah was standing outside of the truck, waiting impatiently. But the person who circled the car wasn’t who you’d expected. He was tall and slim, with brown hair that had lightened with age. The slope of his shoulders was familiar, as was the cleft in his chin.

Even though you’d never met him, you recognized your father-in-law from the few photos Jake kept of him.

The ready room erupted in noise as the officers were dismissed from the strategy meeting on Saturday morning. Jake closed his notebook and sat back, pressing his pen cap to his lip as he studied the whiteboard. With the war games officially kicking off in early December, the higher-ups were fine-tuning the plans and wanted updates on training. As TOPGUN instructors, Mav and Rooster were officially in charge of ensuring the pilots were up to the task, but he’d also been pulled in as an unofficial trainer.

Jake tried not to overthink Rooster's comment a few weeks ago when they’d been talking about buying houses. Rooster had been working with a realtor in San Diego but couldn’t find anything he liked before they deployed, and his stuff was sitting in storage. And as much as Jake liked the rental, he liked the idea of owning the house you’d raise your kids in even more. If promoted to Lt. Commander, he’d probably have more leeway in ensuring they stayed in Lemoore, extending with the Vigilantes or moving to a different squadron. He knew he was due for orders in the next year or so and that he needed to update his dream sheet ASAP.

But in his gut, Jake felt he’d get orders to PCS sooner rather than later. Cyclone had told Rooster that two instructor positions were opening in Miramar in the summer. Warlock was tasked with compiling the list of graduates he wanted to recall, and Jake was pretty sure his name was there. The WSO instructor position had already been filled. Fanboy had already texted the Dagger chat to let everyone know he was headed out West during PCS season.

Not to mention the vague comment Mav, finally up for promotion to Rear Admiral, had made about a permanent squadron being built up at TOPGUN for specialized missions. Who knew how long it would take to establish it, but… if he was reading the signals right, it looked like there might be a move south in his future.

Before, that wouldn’t have been an issue. Even with his first marriage, his wife had said she was ready for anything. Finding a new job in her career wasn’t an issue. And it had just been the two of them. But now? Now, it would be a bit harder for that to happen. There were only so many contracting jobs on base, and military spouses weren’t guaranteed anything. In the worst-case scenario, you could return to private contracting - there were always offices around bases. An overseas posting would be more complicated. While he knew the two of you could manage it, he knew you liked being stateside and having your parents a short plane ride away - especially with Sloane.

As the room emptied, Jake pushed to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. Thankfully, this meeting was the last thing he had to do today for work. He already had plans to hit the barber and do laundry, and he mentally added printing out a copy of his dream sheet. With you coming in a few weeks, he knew he needed to update it ASAP. Lemoore would be his top choice, pulling the international postings. As fun as being overseas would be, he had to put his family first now. Deployments would be enough.

Tugging down the arm of his khaki shirt - they were tighter than usual due to having nothing but time to work out - Jake couldn’t keep the smirk from his mouth as he walked the hallway back to his room. He couldn’t wait to see you in two weeks, even though he worried about you traveling. But he knew better than to voice his concerns after you’d snapped at him. So he’d done everything he could to make sure that the trip was safe. After you’d sent him the tickets you were eyeing, he’d bought them and upgraded the seat so you’d be comfortable. The last-minute tickets were expensive but absolutely worth it - you’d already agreed that this would be both of your Christmas gifts. And he’d booked a room at the Yokosuka Navy Lodge, so you’d be on base and close to the hospital if you needed anything.

Fritz nodded at him when he stepped inside, turning his attention back to the show he was watching on his laptop. After tossing his notebook onto the small desk, Jake quickly undid the buttons of his shirt while toeing off his shoes. Once he changed into his civvies, he’d hit the barber and then go for a run. The weekend was the worst time to do laundry, but he was running out of undershirts and socks.

The safe door clicked open when the dial reached the last number. Jake retrieved his wedding ring, swapping the black silicone band on his hand for the white gold now that he was officially off duty. It already had a couple of scratches on the metal, but he didn’t mind - just meant that time had passed since you’d slid it onto his finger four months ago. After placing the silicone band in the safe, he grabbed his phone and powered it on. It took a minute to connect to the wifi, so he shoved it into his pocket and grabbed his wallet.

With another nod to Fritz, he stepped back into the hallway and stopped dead when he checked his phone and saw two misspelled texts you’d sent.

Prents here

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” you said, standing awkwardly in your kitchen as your in-laws looked around. You caught her critical glance at the dirty dishes in the sink - at least you’d remembered to run the dishwasher while at work - and the pillow and blanket on the couch. “Can I get you anything to drink? I have water, sparkling water, soda, juice, and milk if you’d prefer.”

“A beer,” Mark barked, his green eyes running the length of you before the corner of his mouth twitched. To his credit, he was conventionally attractive. You could see how he could attract women - traces of Jake were clearly present in his features - but you couldn’t figure out how he kept them once he opened his mouth. Placing a protective hand on your stomach, you forced a smile.

“I don’t actually have any beer,” you said. These days, the house was pretty much BYOB if people wanted alcohol while hanging out. “I’m pretty sure there’s some whiskey and rum if you’d prefer a cocktail.”

“I’ll go get some,” Sarah said softly, looking between you. Mark glanced at his wife and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll have a sweet tea while I’m waiting.”

“I have tea bags, but I don’t have sweet tea on hand.”

“I can make some.” Huffing, Mark invited himself into the living room and threw the blanket on the couch onto the floor before grabbing the television remote. Taking a steeling breath, you turned to face Sarah. She straightened slightly with her husband across the house, lifting her chin as though daring you to say something. This wasn’t the woman who had paraded into your house over a year ago and called you Jake’s roommate or had made pointed comments about your wedding.

“It’s nice to see you again. How long are you here for?”

“The weekend. Mark wanted to meet you and make sure that you were doing alright with the deployment and…” she motioned to your stomach, fingers twitching as though she wanted to touch. Shuffling back a step, you nodded.

“Where are you staying?”

“Here,” Mark called from the living room, clearly listening in. “Where’s that tea?” Sarah walked to the pantry and started searching, ignoring your outraged expression.

“You’re staying here?” you asked.

“No use spending money when my son’s got the room.” Mark smiled in what you assumed he meant to be a charming way but really looked sleazy and winked. “Want to keep an eye on my daughter-in-law, too.”

Forcing your expression to remain neutral, you picked up your work bag. “I’m going to change. Make yourself comfortable.” The sarcastic remark was unnecessary, as his booted feet were kicked onto your coffee table.

You could feel the bag vibrating against your leg as you retreated to your bedroom, loathed to leave the two unsupervised in your house but needing a moment to regroup. As soon as the door was closed, you reached into the bag and retrieved your phone, seeing that there were already four missed calls from Jake. Before you could call him back, it rang again. “What do you mean, ‘u’?” he asked as soon as you picked up.

Tossing your bag onto the bed, you retreated to the bathroom. “Your parents are here.”

“My - ” The shock in his voice was unmistakable. “My parents are there?”

“Your father currently has his shoes on my coffee table and wants a beer, and your mother is in the pantry making him sweet tea as a substitute until she goes out to get some.”

There was a long silence before he spoke again, his anger barely contained. “Did he say why they came?”

“He said he wanted to keep an eye on me, and - ”

“That son of a bitch,” he snapped. You inhaled sharply, surprised at the venom in his voice.

“Jake?”

“Put him on the phone.”

“I’m in our bathroom. Talk to me.”

“I can’t believe… how long are they staying?”

“The weekend, apparently. And they’re expecting to stay here.”

“Absolutely not. I told him he wouldn’t step foot in our house, and he waited for me to be out of the fuckin’ country to do it.”

“You - ”

“I want you to call Coyote and get him there - now. And then you’re gonna call me back and stay on the phone until he gets there.”

“Jake, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t want him near you, not when I’m not there. I don’t trust him.” Taking a deep breath, you leaned against the counter and dropped your head into your hand. Unwelcome tears sprang to your eyes, but you forced your breath to be even. Right now, there was only room for one Seresin to freak out.

“Babe, I understand you’re upset, but I don’t need Javy here to help manage this. I can - ” He hissed your name.

“You don’t know him. He’s not a good person.”

“I know that, Jake. From the little you’ve told me about him, I know that he’s an asshole and that your mother is not my biggest fan. But I need you to please take a breath and tell me the context of why you told him he wouldn’t be in our house.” Across the globe, he forced himself to take a deep breath and then another as you did the same. You heard voices in the background and then a door opening and closing. “You still there?”

“Yeah, tryin’ to find somewhere private. Hold on.” Closing your eyes, you felt the baby move.

“Sloane’s moving,” you said softly. When he grunted a response, you sighed - clearly, he wasn’t willing to be distracted. So, instead, you moved deeper into the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain to sit on the tub's rim. Eventually, Jake spoke again.

“Darlin’?”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t wait until I’m off this goddamn ship and can get some privacy.” It was on the tip of your tongue to say that he would have that in a couple of weeks, but you stayed quiet. When you closed your eyes, you could picture him running a hand through his hair and pacing. The silence stretched, and you refused to break it. “Do you trust me?” his voice was cautious, and you blew out a breath.

“Of course I do. Jake, if you don’t want them in our home, I’ll have them leave. I just… I need to have information so I can approach this the right way.”

“The right way is with Coyote there.”

“Why?” you demanded. “Why do I need your best friend here? Is your father going to be violent when I ask him to leave?”

“He better not be,” Jake growled. Closing your eyes, you tried to push down your frustration at him for not telling you what was happening, knowing he needed a moment to gather himself. Your husband was a man of action and instinct, and you knew his not being there to handle this personally had to be hard for him. But you were more deliberate and planned, and you wanted to approach every situation with plans and backups in place. And to do that, you needed information.

It had been like this once before when you’d had your first fight about moving in together. Jake wanted it to happen immediately, while you wanted a more established timeline. But now, unlike then, other variables were in the mix - his parents. For as little as you knew about Sarah Seresin, you had at least interacted with her a handful of times. You knew some of her quirks and how she would try to get under your skin. How she’d try to manipulate the situation. But Mark? Your father-in-law was an unknown quantity. You knew he had a temper, was a frequent cheater, and was a horrible parent who emotionally abused his son. Still, you had no data on how to interact with him.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. “Babe, please, I need you to focus because we have a situation, and I need to handle it in a minute. And to do that, I need you to be very honest with me right now about your concerns about me interacting with your father and answer a few questions for me.” Jake felt slightly annoyed when he clocked your tone - the one you used when working with a particularly difficult person. “First, why did you tell him he couldn’t step foot in our home?”

“Because he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to know you after what he said.”

“And what did he say?”

“I don’t - ”

“Jacob.”

“You heard him call you a tag chaser,” he said after a moment. You nodded, remembering that phone call where you’d first heard Mark’s voice when you’d called to invite them to the wedding and let his parents know about the pregnancy. “You didn’t hear him say…he said some pretty terrible things about you.” There was a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you forced your voice to be even when you asked him to clarify. Reluctantly, he did. “He said the baby probably wasn’t mine and that you’d cheat on me the moment you had the chance if you hadn’t already. And that… that you would leave me as soon as you got tired of military life, just like my ex did.”

“I…” you stared but couldn’t speak around the lump in your throat. A confusing mixture of anger, resentment, and hurt choked you. While the rational part of your brain knew that Mark Seresin’s opinion was worth less than the dirt on the sole of your shoe, the emotional part hated that your father-in-law would believe that about you. Clearing your throat, you nodded again. “W-what are your concerns with me confronting him alone?”

“Darlin’,” Jake groaned. When you hummed, he cursed under his breath. “I never saw him hit ma, but it was close. And I don’t… I can’t have that happen. Not with you.”

“Alright,” you said, pulling the phone from your ear and putting it on speaker. Pulling up your text thread with Javy, you quickly typed a message.

911 - Seresins here. Jake wants you here when I kick them out. Can you come?

The message was marked as read immediately, and the response came right away - OMW

“Javy’s on his way,” you sighed. “I won’t do anything until he gets here. Do I need to find a way to keep your mom away from him?” He was quiet for a long moment before sighing.

“I…I want to say yes, but you're my priority if it’s between you and her. Fuck!” Jake pulled at his hair, hating that you were being forced to deal with the situation. “Promise me you’ll call the cops if he does anything.”

“Of course.” Swiping away a rogue tear, you cleared your throat again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’. I’m so sorry that - ”

“This isn’t on you,” you said, toeing off your shoes. “We can handle this. I’m gonna go check the mail to make sure that the door’s open for when Javy gets here. Do you want me to call you back when - ”

“Stay on the phone.” Grabbing your shoes, you closed your eyes and pushed to your feet. “Please, darlin’, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t.” After tossing your shoes into the closet, you glanced at yourself in the mirror and quickly fixed your makeup to ensure you didn’t look like you were crying. Exiting your bedroom, you glanced at where Mark was watching TV and didn’t see Sarah anymore. A glass of sweet tea sweat on the coffee table, having ignored the stack of coasters.

Mark’s eyes narrowed briefly before his eyebrow rose as you walked through the living room. Forcing a smile, you tilted your head toward the door. “That my son on the phone?” he asked.

“It is. He says hi.” You heard Jake snort, and Mark’s lips curled in a fake smile.

“Tell him I said hello, and he needs to call his mama more.”

“I will. I’m gonna go grab the mail.” Their rental car wasn’t in the driveway as you walked to the mailbox, the cement warm under your bare feet. There was a box from your parents sitting on the front porch. “Did you hear that?”

“Fuckin’ asshole,” was Jake’s response. Taking a breath, you cradled the phone between your shoulder and ear while grabbing the stack of magazines and envelopes. Slowly, you walked back to the house, mentally preparing to be civil to a man you hated with every fiber of your being and nearly dropping your phone when you tried to juggle it, the mail, and the box.

“I’m gonna put my phone in my pocket for a second,” you said. Before he could respond, you did just that and pushed the door open, leaving it unlocked. Mark watched you walk toward the kitchen and smirked.

“The yard looks like shit, and the house doesn't look much better. Your mama clearly didn’t teach you how to keep a house for your husband, but don’t worry - Sarah’ll get you right before we leave.”

You froze, hearing Jake’s tinny voice in your pocket. The television covered the noise by the couch, as Mark didn’t seem to notice it. “Excuse me?”

“My son obviously didn’t marry you for your housekeepin’ skills,” the older man leered, and you shifted the box to more fully cover your stomach. “But a man should be able to leave on deployment and know that his woman’s takin’ care of his home. Sarah knew that, and she’ll make sure you learn.”

“I’ll have you know that I was also raised in the military, so I’m not a civilian going through their first deployment. I know how this works because my dad deployed a lot when I was growing up, and it was just my mom and me,” you snapped without thinking. “And my house is not perfect, but I had no idea I’d have guests coming, I work full time, and I’m pregnant. So when it comes to dividing my time, I will pick my career and take care of myself over doing housework, especially when I’m mostly here by myself. And Jake knew how I cleaned before we got married.”

Turning your back on the man, you stormed toward the kitchen and slammed the box onto the counter, the mail falling to the floor. Jake was talking as you bent to retrieve the post, hand sliding into your pocket to retrieve the phone. “You’ve got more fire than the last tag chaser, I’ll give ya that.” Mark leaned against the wall, grinning down at you. Grasping the counter's edge, you pulled yourself to your feet and tossed envelopes next to the box, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I am not, and never have been, a tag chaser, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling me that. If anything, I married your son despite him being in the military.”

“Is that right?” he asked, pushing off the wall.

“Tricare’s just not worth it,” you shrugged.

“You got a smart mouth on you, you know that?” That Texas drawl you found so charming on your husband made your skin crawl as he stepped closer.

“It’s one of the things Jake loves about me.” The counter dug into your back as he moved into your personal space.

“Your daddy shoulda tanned your hide for that and taught you some manners.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that.” When you tried to push past him, his hand shot out and wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you to a stop. Glancing at it, you forced your eyes up to meet his angry green gaze and felt a shot of fear go through you. “Take your hand off of me. Now.” You could clearly hear Jake yelling in the quiet kitchen, but the words were muffled. Mark glanced down at your leg. “I didn’t get a chance to hang up, so Jake’s heard all this.”

Sneering, the elder Seresin chuckled. “An’ what’s he gonna do for you when you’re here all alone? Clearly, you need a man to teach you a lesson, and if my son isn’t up to the task - ”

When his hand rose, you lifted your chin as you wrenched yourself out of his grasp. “Do it and pull back a bloody stump,” you hissed. Adrenaline flooded your system, and anger at him daring to threaten you in your own home overrode any fear. “I’ll make sure you spend the nice, long holiday weekend in jail, and I’m pretty sure those assault charges would have more consequences since I’m pregnant.”

“You little bit - ”

There was a knock at the front door, and you refused to take your eyes off the man in front of you as you yelled, “Come in!” You heard Javy call your name. “We’re in the kitchen.”

Mark lowered his hands when he heard Javy’s quick footsteps, and he paused in the doorway. “Everything alright?” he demanded, glancing between you.

“Everything’s fine,” you replied, keeping your voice even. “He was just going to wait outside for his wife to come back and then find a hotel for the weekend.”

“You can’t kick me out of my son’s house,” Mark snapped. Javy quickly moved to stand beside you, and you smiled sweetly.

“This is my house just as much as it’s Jake’s. And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police and have them remove you.”

“Let’s not get the cops involved if we don’t have to,” Javy said, attempting to play the peacekeeper. “Mr. Se - ”

“Chief Petty Officer Seresin, to you, boy.” At that, Javy’s eyes flashed, and his shoulders pulled back.

“Then it’s Lieutenant Machado to you. Now, she said to get out, so let’s go.” When Mark raised his hand again to point in your face, Javy stepped between you. “Back up.”

“You and my pussy of a son deserve each other.”

“Get. The fuck. Out of my house,” you ordered through clenched teeth, your palm itching to slap the man. Smirking, he took a step back and spit on the floor. Javy moved fast, grabbing the older man by the collar and walking him out of the kitchen and toward the door.

Ears ringing, you were unable to hear the words the two exchanged. The door slammed shut, seeming to shake the walls, and then Javy was back. “You okay?” he asked, pulling you into his arms. Shaking, you leaned into him, fingers digging into his back.

“I’m okay,” you breathed, unable to keep tears from falling. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“Jake texted me.”

“Jake!” you sobbed, quickly pulling away and reaching for your phone. You could feel that you were starting to get light-headed, and the room spun, so you grabbed Javy’s arm, using it to help you onto the floor. Leaning back against the cabinet, you brought the phone up to your ear and heard your husband’s ragged breathing. “Jake?”

“Fuck, darlin’, are you okay?” he demanded.

“I’m okay,” you answered. Looking up at Javy, you mouthed the word ‘water.’ He nodded and quickly grabbed a glass from over your head.

“I can’t believe that fuckin’ asshole touched you. I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m okay,” you repeated, hearing how worked up he was getting. Putting the phone on speaker, you accepted the water Javy handed you and mouthed your thanks. Forcing yourself to take slow sips, you could feel the room stop spinning. Crouching down in front of you, Javy studied your face.

“She’s a little pale but looks good, Hangman.”

“Jesus, Javy - I…” Jake seemed to choke on his words. “Thank you, man. I - ”

“No thanks necessary; I'm just glad you texted me. Payback’s outside keeping an eye on the situation.”

“Reuben’s here?” you asked.

“We were at the bar when I got the texts. Pheonix and Bob are en route.” As if on cue, there was a knocking on the door before it opened.

“Just me!” Nat called. Javy stood, glancing at the other pilot when she entered the kitchen. “All clear?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You mind staying here while I go back up Payback?”

“Bob’s five minutes out,” she said. Her gaze drifted to you. “You want to go get checked out?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Jake grunted in frustration. “Go get checked out, darlin’. Make sure you and Sloane are okay.”

“I’m fine,” you countered. “The worst I’ll have is a bruise on my arm. He didn’t touch me.”

“If he left a bruise, he did,” Jake countered. “Please, darlin’? For me?”

“But…” you sniffled, hearing his noise of concern. “But what if they tell me I can’t come see you?” He breathed your name, and you hung your head.

“I’d rather know that you and Sloane will be okay than see you in two weeks. That’s all that matters.” Tears streamed down your face as you silently cursed your in-laws.

“Fine,” you whispered.

“I’ll take you,” Nat offered, and you nodded.

Two hours later, you sat on the couch between Bob and Payback, a mug of ice cream settled on your stomach. Urgent Care had quickly cleared you but cautioned against any more stress when you’d admitted to feeling faint.

Jake had made you promise to call him back during the exam, and Nat had held the phone for you. Only after hearing Sloane’s strong heartbeat did he feel comfortable hanging up.

By the time you’d gotten back, the Seresins were gone. When the Daggers made it clear that they wouldn’t leave you alone that night, you quickly ordered some pizzas while Javy ran home to pack an overnight bag, and Payback went to pick up some beers. When you’d tried to pick up the house a bit, Bob and Nat had made you sit on the couch and relax, keeping your feet elevated like the PA had told you to.

After midnight, you woke to the hushed sounds of the aviators getting ready to leave. You hugged Nat, Reuben, and Bob before they left while Javy cleaned up the kitchen and took out the trash.

“You don’t have to do that,” you yawned when he came back into the kitchen through the garage.

“It’s no problem. I’m gonna crash in the spare bedroom if that’s cool.”

“It’s all yours. And thanks, again, for everything this afternoon.”

Javy shrugged, a sad smile tugging at his mouth before he turned to wash his hands. “I’m always gonna have your back. Chief Petty Officer Seresin” - his tone was mocking - “has been an asshole since I’ve known him. But you and Jake don’t deserve that.”

Rather than respond, you waited for him to finish before hugging him. “I’m glad you got stuck with Jake at the Academy. And that you put up with him for this long.”

“It has not been easy,” he chuckled.

“At least you’re getting a goddaughter out of it.” He stiffened in your embrace, and you did as well.

“I’m what?”

“Please tell me that Jake has already had that conversation with you.”

“I’m gonna be her godfather?”

Groaning, you stepped back and buried your face in your hands. “Ignore what I said. Please - I didn’t… Jake was supposed to talk to you about this WEEKS ago!”

“I’m gonna be a godfather!” Javy crowed, wiggling his shoulders in a celebratory dance.

“You have to pretend I didn’t say anything when he asks you,” you begged. When his hands hovered over your stomach, you smiled and guided them to where Sloane was moving.

“Hey, baby girl, it’s your Uncle Coyote. Gonna be the best godfather ever,” he promised.

This time, the tears that slipped down your cheeks were from happiness and gratitude for the family that Jake had already given you.

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

Author's Note: I am SO SORRY for the delay in updating this story. I got very caught up in my other Jake fic ('tis the damn season) which is set around Christmas. Jake and Darlin' unfortunately took a back seat. However, it gave me some time to mentally rework the chapter, as it - and the story as a whole - originally didn't include any Darlin' going to visit Jake, but just focused on the interaction with her in-laws. As always, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the writing process.

And now you've met CPO Seresin, who is a piece of work... (in my experience) veterans who want to continue to be addressed by their rank tend to be. A couple military terms were used in this chapter - PCS is Permanent Change of Station, where you move bases; PCS season is usually in the summer. Generally, you PCS every 2-4 years -- the longest we ever stayed somewhere was 5 when Dad was able to extend. Due to the constant change, it is very hard for military spouses to build their own careers. One of my best friend's husband left the Air Force because she refused to prioritize his career over hers (she works in fashion, and he now works in finance), and my other best friend's husband also left when she became a director in her company. My mom wasn't able to have a career until my dad retired after 26 years.

Tricare is the military health insurance. Dream sheets are the list of bases that you'd like to be stationed at. The military will look at the list and where there's need, and then let you know where you're going. You are not guaranteed a base on your dream sheet, and it's important to keep them updated. My parents forgot to redo the international one, which is how we ended up moving from Japan to Spain when my parents were ready to come stateside.

Thank you so much for being patient with me updating - I appreciate you 🥺

Read Jake's POV of this chapter

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