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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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We bleed together

a/n you want pain!? I'll give you pain. The person who requested this is responsible for the damage.

summary: what if the last day of humanity was different? What if instead of loosing Sarah, Joel lost you - the mother of his two children and the person who had built him up to a better man.

warnings: car crash, blood, injuries, wounds, death ahh I would say medium emotional damage

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"And then one more", you spun around, making the baby giggle in your hands, "And one more", you twirled around, smiling to yourself as yet another giggle filled the still-empty kitchen. Emma was one giddy baby. For a five-month-old, she was extremely alert, her curiosity driving her to look around as much as she could. If only her body was strong enough, she would be crawling around day and night. Following Sarah around or any of you for that instant. Sarah barely left her side. You were worried at first about her reaction. Sure, you had been there almost from the start, helping Joel take care of her, and she was like your own daughter, but still. You had plenty of conversations about her biological mother. You understood her desire to know. To ask questions. To understand.

"She didn't want me, right? I was the problem", you were halfway through your pregnancy when this conversation surfaced again. Putting down the baby sweater that you were just folding, you motioned for Sarah to come in. She had become more avoidant once you started showing. The reality started to kick in, and it pained her that the baby was going to have a real and normal family.

"You were never the problem, my beam of light", you cupped her face lovingly, whipping away some of the tears that had started rolling down Sarah's cheeks. "But… she didn't love me like you love your baby", "Oh, Sarah", you pulled her closer to your chest, "I've loved you from the moment I saw you kicking around in that makeshift crib your dad had going on". Running your hand through Sarah's curls, you made her turn to you. "You've been my special girl since then. I love you and the baby the same. There are no differences to me between you two. Sure, you and I don't share DNA, but, like, who cares about that?", she shrugged her shoulders. Biting her lip as she tried to stop the tears. "You promise you won't leave?", Sarah crocked out, big brown eyes searching yours. It broke your heart so much, but you understood her. Her fear of losing a mother figure. Her dad needing to go through this alone again. You took both of her hands in yours, squeezing them, "I would never dream of it; you are my world".

Joel couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, especially once the baby caught sight of her father in the archway, kicking her little legs happily. The sudden burst of excitement made you turn your head to the side, "Ah, so dad is the one you get all happy for, huh", You nuzzled your face into Emma's neck, leaving endless amounts of kisses there and making her squeal happily. "She's a daddy's girl, aren't you?", Joel walked closer to you, hand reaching instantly for the smallest Miller. Emma's babbles filled the kitchen as she told her dad all the stories she could. "Honestly, rude. When both of our kids are like that", "Maybe I'm just more awesome", you let out a fake gasp, your hand coming up your chest. Joel smirked before giggling to himself. "No, sir, soon you'll be going to work without birthday sandwiches", you warned him, and Joel instantly lifted his free hand in the air defensively.

It felt surreal this morning for some reason. Joel had laid in bed awake for some time just thinking. Thinking about Sarah's mother. Thinking about you. About how his life had shifted once you stepped in. How much he valued the love you gave Sarah. How much he valued you going through a tough pregnancy to bring another baby girl into this world. Joel wondered if you knew. Knew how much he loved you. It wasn't just love. It was his whole existence. You were his rock, as he was yours. But he knew, Joel was convinced, that it was all thanks to you that he found purpose in life again.

"We can't have mommy mad", Joel mumbled to Emma, ticking her stomach. He moved closer to you while you were cutting up the vegetables. Leaning in to press a kiss on your shoulder, then another. Before a whole line of kisses was drawn from your shoulder up to your temple. You giggled, loving the slight tickle of Joel's beard against your skin. "I love you so much", Joel muttered, bringing you closer to his chest as his hand sneaked around your waist. You leaned back into him smiling, "Not as much as I love you, birthday boy", you cupped his cheeks, moving into Joel's embrace so you could place your lips on his. "The best mama ever", he muttered in between kisses, "And best wife to be", those words made your heart flutter a little. God, you loved this man, and you couldn't wait to be a Miller soon. You deepened the kiss just a little.

"Seriously? In front of a baby?", Sarah's voice made you two tear apart quickly. "You're officially out of the age to say ew when your parents kiss", Joel chirped, turning to his older daughter, who was rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but Em isn't, so don't be disgusting, right Em?", Sarah reached for her sister, whom Joel had carefully placed in her little high chair. Her little fist tightened and wrapped around Sarah's finger. You place the plates with food on the table.

"Tommy?", you ask, but Joel shrugged his shoulders. "Probably left early," strange, you thought to yourself as you slipped into the chair next to everyone. "So, how old are you again?", Sarah asked, mouth full of food. "Thirty-six", the girl shook her head, making you giggle. "Hate to break it to you, dad, but dippers are in the near future", she teased, but Joel only hummed, "Who said I ain't wearing one now?". Sarah let out a laugh, which Emma mimicked, making you smile. "Well, at least now I know why Em's diapers are disappearing", you said ž, making them both let out a laugh.

You wished you could freeze moments like this. Where you all were laughing. Where nothing bothered you all. "Don't forget to get the cake on your way back", you reminded Joel, who instantly hummed, "I will don't worry", he muttered, and Sarah sent him a warning look that he returned by leaning across the table to cup her cheeks and placing kisses all over her face. She squirmed in her dad's hands until she couldn't contain the laughter anymore.

Joel came back to a dark house. He wasn't expecting anything else, considering that he was three hours late coming back. He knew you would forget him for skipping his birthday dinner. It was Sarah, whom he knew must be upset. And letting her down was his biggest fear in life. Joel tried to move past the hallway as quietly as possible, stopping only when he noticed a light coming from the living room. Sarah was fast asleep with her head laying on your lap, your eyes were tired as you held Emma close to your chest. The light sounds of her suckling and the television playing were the only noise in the room. Joel couldn't help but smile slightly. He will never be able to get tired of a sight like this.

"Am I in deep shit?", you blinked a couple of times, shaking your head, "You can't even imagine Miller". Joel sat down next to you, lips instantly moving to kiss the side of your head, hand reaching to support Emma, who was happily eating, her tiny hand holding onto the pendant necklace that Joel had gotten you. It had four gold-plated letters. All the first letters of your little family's names.

"Don't overthink it. She'll understand eventually. Sarah wants your presence more than that cake anyway,", you reassured him, already feeling him slip into his mind. You knew Joel best. You knew how much he cared. The family was always first, and his working hours were so hectic just because he wanted to give you all the best. "I know. I will… I'll squeeze in a free day, and we can all just have a day to ourselves", Joel muttered, and you leaned closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Have I told you lately that you are the love of my life?", he asked all of a sudden, making you look back up at him. "Well, I would freaking hope to be", you teased him, moving to nuzzle closer to him once more. Joel let out a light chuckle, "But you have; you always remind me of that. Because you are the best fiancé and father ever", you muttered sleepily. Joel's warmth dangerously lulled you into a slumber.

The sound of what appeared to be a military helicopter flying over the house woke you up. You frowned, reaching over for Joel only to find his side of the bed empty. You quickly sat up, looking at the bassinet that stood by the side of your bed. Breathing out a sigh of relief when you saw Emma fast asleep there. Lights from outside were illuminating the room. It seemed like the search troops were out. What the heck was happening? The sight of a paper note caught your attention next. You picked it up quickly. It was Joel's handwriting on it: "Needed to go bail Tommy out. I'll be back as soon as I can. Love you, J.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you grab a book off your bedside table. Something was wrong, and you could just feel it. You could feel it deep in your gut. "Mom, dad", Sarah's voice filled your ears, right before another helicopter flew by. "Cone here, darling", Sarah threw the door open, rushing to you as she jumped onto the bed. "What's going on?", she asked, as your eyes fell over the window. "I don't know,", you muttered, "But daddy will be home soon, and we'll figure it out, okay?", You cupped her cheek tenderly, giving Sarah a light smile. You stood up and opened the wardrobe, pulling out a wrap-around carrier. Quickly draping it over your body, you leaned to pick up the smallest addition to the family, tucking her close to your chest. Now more than thankful that she was a deep sleeper, a gift from Joel.

"Come on, let's see if there's something on TV,", you said, reaching for Sarah's hand. The commotion outside only made the anxiety more and more intense. "Where is dad?", Sarah asked as you walked down the stairs. "He went to get your uncle". It wasn't the first time, so Sarah didn't ask any more questions. She knew it meant that Tommy had once again gotten into trouble. Something that made her dad rather frustrated most of the time.

All the channels were turned off, the only thing on TV was a warning. "Indoors, law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions", your hand was still holding onto Sarah when the sound of something hitting the window made you both jump. The barking filled your ears next, and you let out a shaky breath. Sarah instantly rushed towards the doors. "No, get back here", you called after the girl, but she was already opening the door, sinking to her knees as she petted the dog. "Easy, easy, Mercy. What are you doing out here, boy?", Sarah looked around the street, the chilly nighttime air hitting her cheeks. She moves to step closer to the street, but you were quick to hold onto her arm. "Get back inside," you said, "But what if ms. Adler…", she tried to argue, but your grip on her hand only tightened.

"I said inside", you tugged at her hand right as another person or whatever that was stumbled into the street. It twitched awkwardly before starting to dart in your direction. You moved Sarah behind you. "Go, go, go", you shouted before, pushing her into the house, closing the door behind you. Pressing all of your body weight against the door. Eyes closed as your body started to shake. Where was Joel? Where was he? The baby lets out a whine. Your hand instantly moved to rub up and down her tiny back, hoping to soothe her into sleep.

"Mom", Sarah calls out. You lifted your eyes to see her teary ones, instantly reaching for her, "Come here baby. We're okay", "What was that?". You pressed her to your side, kissing her head a couple of times. You wished you could answer, but you couldn't. "I don't know, baby, I don't know", you nudged her closer to yourself. Banging on the doors got louder, and a part of you was telling you to move to somewhere safer to at least get the girls safe. But you couldn't move. So crippled by anxiety. You just sat there with silent tears falling down your cheeks. Then a shot rang out, making you flinch. And then there was silence.

"Y/N", you let out a cry at Joel's voice that filled your ears from the other side of the door. Sarah was the one to stand up fist, quickly reaching for the handle, giving you just enough time to move slightly as she yanked the doors open. Joel stepped in, his hands reaching for Sarah instantly as he looked her over for any sign of injuries, "You're not hurt, baby girl?", he asked her. Sarah shook her head. "Dad, what's going on?", but Joel said nothing as his eyes fell on you. Crying on the floor, hands wrapped around your baby. He crossed the distance between you in a couple of steps. Kneeling beside you, "Joel…", you cried out, and he instantly brought your body closer to his, weary of the baby between you but making sure you could physically feel that he was there, "I've got you dove, come on, we need to move now".

Joel's arm moved to steady you from behind as he helped you up. Tommy was by Sarah's side, gun in hand, as he walked her towards the car. You barely made it down the front porch stairs as someone ran out of the Adler's house. You all froze in place, and Tommy hiked up the gun. "Get in the truck now", Joel roared, briefly turning to you and Sarah. But there was little time to think as the woman's body twitched and, with an unhuman-like growl, she started crawling towards you.

"What are we doing, Joel?", Tommy's voice rang out, but Joel didn't answer. With the tool in his hand, he swung his arm. He hit the old lady straight on the head, and her body fell to the ground. It was a split-second decision. A decision that had both you and Sarah staring at Joel because you had never… Never seen him this way. Never seen so much anger. Never seen this kind of violence. You didn't even know that Joel was capable of that.

"You killed her", Sarah whispered, pulling you out of your trance. Joel stepped to her, cupping her cheek, "Baby, I'm sorry", wrapping his arms around her, embracing her. "Joel, we need to move", Tommy said in a worried tone, now moving to grab your hands as he walked you toward the car. "You're okay?", he asked you as he opened the door, making sure you didn't hit your head. His hand lingered on his niece's back, her big brown eyes now staring at him. You nodded your head. What else were you supposed to do? "We'll get out of here", Tommy said firmly, rubbing his thumb on Emma's cheek. You turned to Joel and Sarah; he was still holding onto her. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Listen to me, it's not just the Adlers, but we need to be brave; we will get out of this together", Joel said to her before opening the door for her. An explosion rocked the street meters away from you. Both Miller brothers were quick to shield you, baby, and Sarah. Emma's cries echoed through the empty street now. You met Joel's eyes briefly. Eyes that were also scared. Worried eyes. "Let's go, guys, we need to go", Tommy jumped in the driver's seat before starting the car.

Sarah was silently crying beside you. Crying alongside Emma. You tried to soothe both of their fears, but with your anxiety being so high, you knew that you could try to hide it all you wanted - they could still feel it. The frantic driving and Joel's shouting at Tommy didn't help much. You pressed Sarah closer to you, her arm falling over Emma's body. You started to hum one of the lullabies. The lullaby that had followed Sarah through her childhood. The one even she sometimes hummed to her little sister if she took over the nap duties. "And in the darkest of nights, the stars shine bright above us. Sleep tight, little one; let the light calm you", you hummed softly. Rocking both of them in your embrace.

The world was falling apart. Houses were on fire. There was so much screaming. "What if it's everywhere?", Sarah muttered, looking up at you. "We'll find a safe place. Remember what your dad told you? We need to be just a tiny bit braver tonight", you said, meeting Tommy's gaze right as he looked up. A plane flew over the car. "The fuck", the younger Miller cursed while watching the ship sway in the sky. "Keep going", Joel encouraged his brother. His arms slipped toward the back. Joel's fingers were running up and down your calve. His way of grounding himself, of making sure that you knew he was there. That he still had this under control. That he was going to get you all out of here.

The chaos was like nothing you had seen before. The screams. The cries. People were running in front of cars. Hitting the sides as they fell. The streets were full. It all felt like a blur and the worst nightmare all at once. Sarah's grip on your hand was deadly. Your fingers had found Joel's hand as you leaned forward. Tommy started to move out of the street. You felt a tug on your hand. Sarah's eyes were gazing through the back window. "Dad" she whispered, "Dad!", this time the word came out more firm and loud. You only managed to see another airplane flying right at you. Then came the crash. The sound of static. Everything moved at lightning speed. You caved into yourself. Hoping to provide as much shelter for the infant with my body, and then everything went black for a moment.

Joel had never been more scared than the moment he crawled out of the car that was now lying on its roof and found your unconscious body covered in bits of glass and blood. Emma's cries soothed him almost; at least he knew she was alive. Sarah moved as well, and Joel let out a somewhat relieved breath. "Babe", Joel touched your leg, but you didn't move. He inched closer, dragging you out of the car by your shoulders. The moment Joel tugged on your hand, your eyes snapped open with a cry.

"Hey, I've got you", he tried to sound calm, but the sight of the blood trickling down the side of your face made him want to tear the whole world apart. Joel pulled Sarah out of the car as well before turning his attention to you. "Does something hurt?", "My shoulder, I think I…", you hissed when Joel's finger came in contact with your skin. "Give me, Em. Sarah, can you walk, baby?", Joel was loosening the carrier from around your body as he gazed at his firstborn. The girl nodded, and you ripped the side of the carry. Crawling toward Sarah and reaching for her ankle. "I'll wrap it tight, okay; it might feel uncomfortable, but you'll be able to move for now", "Mom, your head", she mumbled, fingers reaching for the blood, but you stopped her quickly. "It's nothing, darling. You focus on staying close to us, okay?"

Tommy came up from the other side, glancing over his shoulder. "The military trucks are here; you need to move; go towards the river; I'll meet you there", Tommy said, Joel rocked Emma in his arms as she screamed her little lungs out. She, too, felt the threat without the warmth of your skin. Tommy shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Joel, before helping you stand. "I'll see y'all there", he ushered you to move. "You stay safe", you said to him, and he only nodded. Regardless of his stumbles in life, Tommy was a good man. A loving brother-in-law. Someone whom you cherished. Cherished so deeply. But you couldn't let your sentiments get the better of you now. You needed to get your babies out of this mess. Get them somewhere safe. So you grabbed Sarah's hand, and so did Joel, and you all ran.

The river bank was practically a hand's reach away. Sarah was limping badly. You knew her leg was going to give up at any moment. You pulled her closer to you so she could lean more of her weight on you. Ignoring the pain that shot through your shoulder. Whispering words of encouragement to her. "Stop right there", a male's voice called out. Joel brought you all to a halt as the light from a gun darted onto your body. "We are not infected. My family got into a car crash", yet you could tell that the soldier didn't care about it whatsoever as he inched closer. "I have four civilians by the river. The female is covered in blood, girl limping", he said coldly into the radio, gun still pointed your way. "Please, we", "Shut up", the male roared, and you instantly pushed Sarah behind you. "Joel…", your hand held onto his forearm, but your eyes didn't leave the person in front of you. Something in your gut twisted. A sense of dread almost pulled you down.

"If something happens", "Y/N, don't…", you yanked at Joel's arm, firmly gaping at him. "You fucking take them and run", you muttered through gritted teeth. "Hey, no one told you to move", the soldier shouted, and you moved to face him again. The sound of your breathing was the only sound you could hear as your hand came up over Joel's hip, and you moved forward. The gunfire pierced the air. The echo was almost unbearable. Freezing. Static. Joel must have dragged you to the side after the first shot rang out, making you all tumble down the hill.

All Joel could hear was Em crying and a couple more shots ringing out. He needed to think quickly. He needed to come up with a plan. "Mommy", Sarah's shaky breath followed by a scream, was what got Joel to look up. And he wished he hadn't. He wished this was a dream. Maybe it was? His worst nightmare? What if he pinched himself? Make it all disappear. Make it all stop. "Joel", Tommy called out, reaching for the crying baby, and the moment the girl was out of his hands, Joel was moving towards you, falling over himself but moving to you.

"Hey, hey, love", he muttered. You had two gunshot wounds on both sides. The blood had already soaked your clothes. Sarah's had her hands pressed against your skin as she shook. "Listen to me, Y/N; I'll get you out; I'll make it", but you moved your hand up, gripping his arm. Lips pressed together as you tried to keep yourself from screaming in pain. You had to. For your girls.

Your eyes fell on Em in Tommy's arms; her bright pink cheeks were visible in the night. Your little angel baby. Your girl that you will never get to see grow up. She might not even remember you. You were going to be a distant memory. Just how Sarah's mom was to her. Sarah looked at the blood seeping through your skin. You reached for her, making her eyes snap at your face.

You pulled the last bits of your strength so you would smile at her, "I love you, sun-shine", you breathed out, and burning pain shot through your body, making you close your eyes. "Mommy, please. I… don't… please", she said, moving to wrap her hands around your neck. You breathed in her flowery scent, feeling your eyes burn with tears. Knowing very well that this was the last time you were going to feel her touch and smell her, "Let… mommy and daddy have a moment", you pleaded. Feeling your body starting to crash already. You didn't want her to see you fade away. No. The blood. Everything from tonight was already too much. She shook her head, but Joel grabbed her hands and moved them away from your blood, saying, "Go to Tommy, baby girl".

Joel, however, moved back to pressing down on your wounds for dear life. Even if he could tell, it was hopeless. He couldn't. He couldn't and was not about to let go. "Joel..", you cried out, and he instantly moved your body closer to his. Pulling you against his chest, "Don't go; don't die; you can't die", he croaked out, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "Hold me", you whispered, feeling the metallic taste in your mouth getting stronger, "I'm here, love. I've got you", Joel pulled you even closer to him, savoring the last bits of your warmth. He hoped it would have been him dying here. It should have been because you three would have been fine with Tommy. But with you gone… What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to live?

"I lo-ve…", "I love you too; I love you so much", your grip on his arm started to loosen as your body shook. Joel got to meet your eyes one more time. He got to capture the depth and warmth of them that he knew he wanted to remember for the rest of his miserable life. "It's okay, it's okay", more blood poured from your mouth. Your big, worried eyes eased. Joel's rocking stayed the same. As if he were swaying you to sleep. As if you two were back home, back in your bedroom, and you had just had a bad dream. A bad dream that Joel was desperate to chase away. "I will always love you. There will never be anyone to replace you. My heart is yours; I'm bleeding with you, dove", he said through the tears.

Then you took a breath in. A surprisingly smooth breath in. Joel looked down at your face. And with a final exhale, your body let go, and the weight of you in Joel's hands told him loud and clear that you were gone. He looked up at the sky, at the stars that shone brightly despite the complete chaos. His body shook with a sob, a sob that guided your soul away from this world. A sob with which a part of Joel died. You took it as you went, and he was never going to be the same.

Tommy didn't rush Joel. Couldn't bring himself to. Sarah was crying with her head buried in her uncle's shoulder, and Emma's choking sobs followed suit. Joel held you till your body was ice cold. His eyes had dried, and he was staring ahead of himself, but he saw nothing. The same darkness that danced within his heart was now dancing all around him. He took your hand into his, carefully taking off the engagement ring from your finger before doing the same with the necklace. He needed something. He needed something from you that he could carry with him.

With you in his arms, Joel stood up. His legs were shaking, but he stepped forward. Tommy rose as well, "Joel, you can't… ", he tried to stop his brother. He understood that parting with your lifeless body was hard, but Joel couldn't carry you around. "We're going", Joel said dryly, as he moved past them. Sarah managed to brush her fingers over your cold skin as her father walked past. "You can't", Tommy tried again, but Joel turned back around, looking feral. "I said we MOVE,", he barked out, making Sarah shiver, and Em only cried more. "Dad,", the older girl tried, but Joel paid her no mind. He couldn't, not now. Acknowledging her would mean that he would have to face reality. And he couldn't. He couldn't fall apart. Especially not now. A shield of coldness embraces Joel as he continues walking through the dark field, still feeling your blood dripping off his hands. Dead.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #pedro pascal x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

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Pregnant

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille takes a pregnancy test

It isn't unexpected.

They'd been trying for a little while now.

Magda had been given injections daily to produce eggs (leading to her being more irritable and snapping at everyone during training but refusing to give anyone an explanation about her sudden mood swings) so when they finally began to process of transferring the eggs to Pernille, they had been prepared.

The first few rounds were unsuccessful but neither wanted to give up hope.

It's during a gap in training that has Magda flying over to Germany, that Pernille realises that she's missed her period.

Magda's still on the plane when Pernille eventually ventures out of the comfort of her apartment to get a test. She's not too worried, eager to brush this off as her period is late or being a bit too stressed rather than getting her hopes too high so when Magda arrives, she's not in a depressed slump.

It's a little awkward, peeing on the stick. She does multiple of them, just to be sure and then leaves them on the side to wait.

Her mind wanders to what she'll do if she's actually pregnant. She'll be happy with a boy or a girl but, selfishly, in her mind's eye, she's always pictured herself with a girl - a mini-Magda on her hip to watch grow and develop and (hopefully) play football just like her mothers.

She doesn't quite know what she'd do with a boy or how different it would be to raise a son in a family with two mothers.

But, Pernille knows that she's getting ahead of herself, as she wanders back to the bathroom to take a look. She can't get ahead of herself on something like this.

A baby is a big step for her and Magda.

She can't start fantasising so early.

Pernille grabs the pregnancy tests

When Magda gets to the house, it's to complete silence. It's a little strange. Pernille's home is almost never silent, whether it be music or the tv in the background.

"Pernille!"

There's no answer for a moment and then a quiet, slightly choked up," Magda?"

"Pernille? Is something wrong?"

Magda doesn't like the way that Pernille sounds so close to tears.

"No-No...Magda, can you come here please?"

Magda hurries from the apartment quickly, slipping around in her socks on the wooden flooring as she finally skids to a stop at the bathroom.

Pernille's sitting on the floor, back pressed against the sink. She's got tears in her eyes and Magda thinks something terrible has happened.

She kneels down on the floor, cupping Pernille's cheeks to wipe away some of the wetness there.

"What is it?" She asks urgently," Are you hurt? Are you sick?"

Gently, Pernille pulls Magda's hands away from her face and slips something into them.

"We did it," Is all she says.

Magda stares down at the pregnancy tests for an embarrassingly long time. Her mind flicks between what it could mean before a lightbulb sparks in her brain and suddenly, she's crying too.

"We did it," She replies," We're having a baby."

Pernille nods. "A baby."

They go to the doctor, just to confirm what they already know and Magda takes notes during the appointment. She writes up a list of prenatal vitamins and their pros and cons. She writes up things Pernille should avoid eating and what times of day she'll likely be feeling nauseous.

For two weeks, it's blissful domesticity, like they're any other couple who has just been told they're going to have a baby soon.

"I can stay," Magda says at the airport before her flight," Let me call Emma. I can take some holiday days. I've got some saved up."

"Magda," Pernille says in fond scolding," You have to go." She holds her hand against her stomach. She's not even showing yet but she's sure that she can feel you inside of her. "We'll be fine."

Magda looks fleetingly back at the departure board before back to Pernille. "I'll be back soon," She promises," I swear. You and the princesse just need to hold out for a few more weeks."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "We don't even know if it is a princesse."

Magda looks down fondly at her belly. "I've just got a feeling."

"Go, Magda," Pernille says," And tell Emma that in nine months you'll be unavailable."

●～●～●～●～

As soon as Magda's on the plane, Pernille heads to the training centre. Subconsciously, her hand rests on her belly, where she swears that she can feel you growing.

She slumps down into her seat as the staff describes what has changed since the break, including much more rigorous gym sessions.

Pernille clears her throat and raises her hand. "And what exactly changes in a gym session if, maybe, someone is pregnant?"

Silence reigns for a moment before Nilla speaks," Are you-? You and Magda?"

Pernille nods. "We're having a baby," She says," Me and Magda. We're having a baby. I'm pregnant."

Chaos rings around the room as the girls either celebrate or stare, open mouthed and in shock at Pernille's news.

●～●～●～●～

Magda can't stop thinking about Pernille, about the fact that she's pregnant with you, all throughout the journey and for once, she's annoyed that she's timed her flight so she can get off and immediately head to training.

She's off in the changing rooms and she's off on the pitch and it's only at the video-review meeting that Magda checks through the proposed match schedule.

Emma is very prepared as a manager, even drawing up potential match days a year in advance despite none of them being confirmed.

"You're frowning pretty hard there, Magda," Millie says," Is there a typo or something?"

"No." Magda uses her finger to circle a group of matches. "I won't be able to make those matches."

"How come?"

The room is randomly quiet, conversations naturally coming to an end as Magda speaks.

"Pernille will have the baby around that time. I can't ask her to parent solo until the next break."

"Pernille's pregnant?! Why didn't you say earlier?!"

Noticing everyone watching, Magda's face grows hot.

"We only just found out?"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #The Big Adventures Universe

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 5 months

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 15) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 5.6k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Some Body Insecurity (Pregnancy Related); Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake work on your relationship. Jake is officially promoted to Lieutenant Commander

Series Master List

Master List

After you moved back into your apartment with Jake, the two of you spent the next week focusing on your relationship.

While the two of you weren't strangers, there was still plenty of relationship moments that you had skipped over before and after you got pregnant. And now was the time to figure all of that out before the baby came.

You talked about the past. Jake explained the steps that he took after he left home to protect himself and now, by extension, you and your daughter. He had already been to see lawyers in the past about protecting his assets and what money was legally his and what money was legally his parents' money.

You told him more stories about your parents and about how their lives impacted how you viewed raising your own child. About the safeguards that you wanted in place to protect either one of you. And to especially protect your child. Jake updated his will to ensure that everything he had went you and the baby. And you were in the process of updating your own when one slightly contentious subject popped up.

Who would be entrusted with your child if something happened to both of you.

It was a subject that you brought up initially, playing off your own fears from your own childhood. Jake echoed your concerns and shared your desire to have it all down in writing.

But the question remained: who were you going to ask?

“You want it to be your brother?” Jake guessed, resting his arms on his thighs.

“And you want it to be Javy?” you returned softly.

You stared over at Jake from the couch. Your arm was lazily draped over your bump as you lounged around in Jake’s shirt and a pair of your boy shorts.

“I would feel more comfortable with Javy, yeah, but this isn’t just about me.”

“Or me,” you agreed, sitting up. “We have to pick someone that we both agree on.” You leaned back and rested your hands on your bump, looking at Jake through your eyelashes. “Why do you want Javy and Nat?”

“Javy’s the only person—besides you and the baby—that I consider to be my family. And I trust both of them with my life. And I'd trust our child with them too.” Jake paused for a moment before asking, “Why do you want your brother?”

“Well, he’s the last biological family that I have left. And Emma and I are really close. And I know that they want to have their own family one day. Bradley can tell the baby stories from our childhoods and our parents.” You shared a look with Jake before continuing, “And I trust Javy and Nat with my life too, but I’m worried that with both of them being in the Navy and neither of them expressing an interest in leaving it or having kids, that our baby wouldn’t fit into their lives.”

Jake didn’t disagree with any of your points, but it didn’t change how he really felt about your preference. Even though he and Bradley had a chat after your and Jake’s fight where Bradley apologized to him, they weren’t best friends. There was still distrust on both sides, and Jake was worried that if the baby went to Bradley and Emma, then he'd be written out of the storyline.

And he knew that Javy and Nat would never do that to you.

“But I know that you and Bradley don’t have the best relationship,” you replied softly, careful with your words. “And I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice in this decision. This is your baby too and we need to agree on a couple.”

“I don’t feel that I don't have a choice,” Jake assured you, causing you to nod. “It’s just . . . there’s some thinking to do.”

“We don’t have to decide today,” you stated, slowly getting to your feet. Resting a hand on your back, you walked over to Jake, who automatically placed his hand on the curve of your bump. “I think that I’m going to shower and get dressed for lunch. I feel all gross and sweaty after this morning.”

“Do you need help?”

“If you want, but no funny business,” you warned him.

You bumped him on the nose with the tip of your finger, causing Jake to grin, remembering the last shower that you took together.

“Yes, ma’am.”

~~~~~

“You know that I can still drive, right?” you reminded Jake as he drove to Penny's house.

“I know, but I like driving you around. It makes me feel like I’m doing something for the two of you,” Jake replied, making you swoon a bit. “And besides, you have more space over there.”

"Alright," you agreed as Jake threaded his fingers through your own. "But after your promotion ceremony, I can drive home so that you can actually enjoy it."

"We'll see how it goes," Jake replied as you neared Penny's house.

Jake parked on the street and the two of you walked together around the house. It was the first family event since your and Jake's fight and you were hoping that it went well. At least, better than the last few had gone. Giving Jake's hand a squeeze, you called out to your family, who were seated around the lawn furniture.

“There they are,” Penny stated, standing up from her seat and moving to greet the two of you. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sweaty,” you joked, accepting Penny’s hug. “Thanks for having us.”

“Don’t even start with that. You know that you’re always welcome here. You too, Jake,” Penny stated, offering him a quick hug too. She took the plate of sweets that you baked before ushering you over. “Come and sit. Dinner’s almost done.”

You and Jake took your seats on the couch beside Emma, who greeted you both with a kind smile. While the two of you chatted about your weeks, Maverick walked over to you and Jake.

"How's the little birdie?" Maverick asked, referring to your child.

"Getting more active," you replied, accepted Maverick's hug and the bottle of water with a thankful smile.

"And you ready for your promotion, Jake?" Maverick questioned, handing him a beer.

"I guess," Jake replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not really much else to do except show up at this point."

"Yeah, I always found that the week after always ended up being more stressful than the week before it. Because then it all sinks in," Maverick stated, taking a sip of his beer and raising an eyebrow when he caught your look. "What?"

Bradley called out that all of the grilled items were done, and everyone got up to make their plates. The six of you ate in relative peace. There was still some tension there. Bradley and Jake were actively avoiding each other, but it was better than glaring at each other, so you would take it. As Emma told you about a wedding invite that she received from someone that you knew from college, Amelia came running down the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked, standing up from her seat.

“My driving instructor cancelled,” Amelia stated, causing Penny to sigh and lower her head. “I’m not going to pass my test, Mom!”

“Amelia, you’ll be fine.”

“You won’t even let me drive to the bar, Mom,” Amelia replied, staring her mother down. “And I don’t think Rooster’s going to come driving with me again.”

“If you give me time to drink four more beers—”

“—Bradley,” Emma admonished, nudging her husband in the side. “She’s learning.”

“She hit the mailbox. Three, actually.”

“And you won’t let Mav teach me,” Amelia reminded her mother, folding her arms over her chest.

“For a reason,” Penny stated firmly.

“Mav taught me how to drive when I was her age,” you spoke up, reaching for your water. "And I turned out fine. I'm sure that she'll be perfectly safe with him, Penny."

“I can teach her,” Jake offered as soon as you finished talking, causing everyone to turn to him. He added, “But only if that’s okay with you, Penny.”

“Yeah, my test is in three weeks,” Amelia agreed, turning to her mom. “I need to practice.”

“Alright, fine,” Penny consented after a few moments of thought. “But no speeding. And don’t hit anything this time. Please.”

“Thanks for offering to teach her how to drive,” you told Jake, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“No, I felt like I should,” he replied, squeezing your knee before getting up from his seat.

“Like you . . .?” you trailed off, running through the last few seconds of the conversation in your head. “Jake?”

“Hmm?” he asked, turning around after Amelia handed him the keys.

“Are you calling me a bad driver?” you asked him, frowning when you saw how his expression changed at your question. Now offended, you pressed, “Jake?”

“You did hit the garage,” Bradley reminded you, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Shut up, Bradley,” you told your brother before turning back to your boyfriend, who was quickly walking away from you with Amelia in tow. “Jake Seresin!”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the waves!” Jake called back, motioning to his ears as he and Amelia walked around the corner of the house. “I love you!”

Huffing, you sat back in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and pouted a bit. Rooster snickered to himself, earning a sharp look from you.

“Yeah, laugh it up, you big chicken. You stole the neighbor’s Playboy magazines and let Mav take the fall for it.”

And that got him to shut up.

“So, you guys are using the ‘l’ word with each other now?” Emma asked you, causing your frustration to leave your system.

“Yeah, we are,” you replied softly, a bit bashfully.

“So, everything’s patched up?” Maverick asked with an edge of parental concern.

"We're working through everything together," you stated, rubbing your bump with your thumbs. "And we've been doing a lot of planning for the future together. Wills, joint checking accounts, loan applications."

"All good steps," Penny told you with a supportive smile.

"So, you guys are looking at houses now?" Emma questioned, causing you to smile and nod.

"I'm hoping to get one in your neighborhood. So that our kids can go to school together," you admitted, causing Emma to beam. "But we'll see what we can find."

"We'll keep an eye out for any signs in our neighborhood."

"Thanks."

"So, you guys are buying a house together and doing all of these other things together," Rooster trailed off, sharing a look with his wife before asking, "Are you guys getting married then?"

"We've talked about it," you admitted quietly, glancing over at Penny and Maverick.

"And?"

"And when it happens, it happens," you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. "I mean, I'm due relatively soon. We'd have no time to plan anything. I'd look like a whale in all of the photos. And Jake could still get deployed without a lot of notice . . ." you trailed off, glancing down. "So, we'll just wait and see."

~~~~~

“Gently,” Jake told Amelia as she pulled into an empty parking lot. “You’re not a NASCAR driver.”

“Says the man who flies around in a fighter jet all day,” Amelia scoffed, driving into the parking lot. “Can we try backing into a spot? I really need to practice that.”

“Yeah, go over there.”

Amelia drove into the corner of the lot and stopped a bit suddenly, causing Jake to grunt as his seatbelt locked to prevent his head from slamming into the dashboard. Rubbing his chest where the seatbelt tightened, Jake turned to Amelia, who winced.

“I know, I know, easy,” Amelia sighed, slumping in her seat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just straighten out and drive down the row like you’re going actually to park.”

Amelia followed Jake’s instructions and eventually slowed to a stop. Looking over his shoulder, Jake pointed at the parking spot that he wanted her to aim for. Walking her through the process of backing up, Jake guided Amelia through the maneuver, taking the steering wheel from her for a moment.

After Jake walked her through it again and she pulled out of her spot, Amelia tried to do it herself. But when she finished crooked, Amelia let out a groan of frustration.

“It’s alright. Just straighten out and try it again,” Jake coached her. “You just need to pull the wheel less before you move.”

Amelia pulled out of the spot and tried to back in again. Jake helped her straighten out the wheel properly as she moved into another parking spot. The second try was straighter, though there was still room for improvement. And by the sixth try, Amelia backed into the spot on her own. Once she put the car in park, both Jake and Amelia opened their doors to check the lines.

“See? You just needed a little practice,” Jake replied, closing his door.

“Thanks,” Amelia returned, shutting her own door. “Especially because I know that you’re just doing this to impress her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t,” Amelia replied, glancing over at Jake. “You know, you’re a lot better than my mom at this stuff.”

“I’m used to staying calm,” Jake stated, turning to Amelia. “And besides, your mom does a hell of a lot more than I could ever do. She's allowed one weakness.” He paused for a moment before turning back to the lot. “Who’s been teaching you how to drive?”

“Just my driving instructor, really. Mom doesn’t trust Mav to do it because she’s worried that he’ll teach me to speed.” Amelia turned back to Jake and asked, “Do you really think that your girlfriend is that bad of a driver?”

“No, not at all.”

“If I promise to not tell her?” Amelia rephrased.

“I’ll be driving our family every chance that I can,” Jake stated, causing Amelia to laugh. “But you said that Bradley went driving with you once?”

"Yeah."

"It was that bad?"

“He freaked out and only lasted about ten minutes.”

“That doesn’t shock me,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “About him, not you.”

“My mom thought that I gave him a heart attack.”

“He gave himself a heart attack over nothing, I’m sure,” Jake replied, turning back to Amelia. “Besides, you don’t even have your license yet. You have plenty of time to learn and improve.”

“Thanks. You too.” When Jake turned to Amelia with a questioning look, she explained, “For when you teach your own kid how to drive.”

“Oh,” Jake replied quietly. “Thanks.” Controlling his own emotions, Jake cleared his throat and pointed at the space in front of him. “You should probably learn how to parallel park too if you’re going to pass your driver’s test.”

~~~~~

“I’m just worried that I’m going to look ridiculous,” you sighed to Penny and Sarah, glancing at the racks of clothes in the store.

It was only a few days before Jake's promotion ceremony, and you still didn't have anything to wear to it. So, you enlisted the help of Penny and Sarah Kazansky to find a dress for the occasion. But so far, it was not going well.

“You’ll be fine. And no one’s going to think that,” Sarah Kazansky assured you from another rack.

“Will I? Have you noticed that more than half of the maternity dresses look like they just used the fabric that no one else wanted to wear?” you sighed, showing Sarah a dress from the rack that proved your point. "This print is giving me a headache."

“Here, try this one,” she offered, handing you a plain blue one.

With some help from Penny and Sarah, you collected a few dresses before walking back into the changing rooms. You tried on one that you picked and immediately cringed at your reflection.

“How’s it going?” Penny called through the door.

“Oh, great,” you called back sarcastically.

“Just come out in one. I’m sure that it’s not that bad,” Penny tried to convince you.

Stepping out of the changing room, you shot Penny a look as she tried to hide her expression behind her hand. Sarah, however, noticeably winced. You sighed, turned on your heel, and walked back into the changing room. After you went through all of the dresses that you picked, the three of you headed to another store.

“Jake will love you in anything,” Sarah encouraged you, as you started to look disheartened.

“He has to,” you sighed, inspecting another dress. “He’s the reason why I’m fat.”

“Here, what about this one?” Penny suggested, holding out another dress to you.

“It doesn’t look half bad,” you agreed, studying it.

“Go try it on.”

You walked into a changing room and pulled on the dress. Letting the zipper in the back hang open, you stepped out to show Penny and Sarah. Penny got up and zipped up the back of the dress for you before the three of you looked it over.

The fabric was soft and stretchy and not too heavy. It accentuated your bump and breasts without making either look too big. And with Sarah’s approving look, you knew that it would be appropriate for the promotion ceremony.

“I think we found it.”

You paid for the dress and then Sarah and Penny insisted on taking you out for a meal. Sarah asked all kinds of questions about the baby and your pregnancy and you, in turn, had some questions for her.

"What did you get Ice for his promotions? I haven't been able to come up with anything good to get Jake yet.”

“When he became a captain, I got him a nice watch. When he became an admiral, I got him a new desk for his office." Sarah reached for her drink with a small smirk. "And when he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander, I gave him a baby nine months later.”

“Aunt Sarah!” you groaned, sticking your tongue out.

"Well, you're already working on that one," Penny teased, causing you to hold a hand to your face. "You could always get him something related to the baby."

"But is that really a good gift for his promotion?"

"You know, one time for Ice's birthday, I took a few portraits with the kids so that he could take the photos of them with him if he got deployed or sent to conferences.”

“Jake did love the ultrasound photos,” you replied, mostly to yourself. Thinking it over, you smiled and turned back to Sarah and Penny. “I’ll think of something.”

~~~~~

“So, what exactly did you need my help with?” Javy asked as he and Jake drove into San Diego.

“I need your advice.”

“Thank you for narrowing it down.”

“I need your help with picking out a ring,” Jake stated, causing the sarcastic smile on Javy’s face to fall.

“A ring ring?”

“Yeah, a ring.”

“No, Jake. A ring ring? You’re going to buy the ring?” Javy repeated, turning to face Jake, who kept his gaze on the road. “You’re going to ask her to marry you?”

“That’s the plan,” Jake agreed, pulling into a parking lot. “But I need a ring first to do that.”

“You’re serious?” Javy asked, causing Jake to shoot him a look.

“Of course, I’m serious, Javy.”

"What made you suddenly decide to take my advice?"

"I had a lot of time to think while we were fighting and she wasn't there with me," Jake began, turning off his truck. Turning to Javy after a pause, he added, "And every dream where we were separated, of her looking at me like she did during our fight . . . I couldn't fucking bear it, Javy." Jake looked down at his hands for a moment. "She and our baby deserve the world, and this is just another step in me giving them that. I want to call her my wife and fucking hell I want her to call me her husband."

“I get it,” Javy replied with a proud smile. "You're finally growing up, Jake. I knew it would happen one day."

"Yeah, yeah," Jake scoffed, pushing Javy's hand off of him. "Now, come on. I still got to pick one."

Jake and Javy got out of his truck and made their way down to the jewelry store. Standing in front of the display case with all of the engagement rings, Jake tried to not get overwhelmed with all of the choices. It almost felt like a test. Would he pick one that you would wear and cherish for the rest of your life? Or would he just look like an idiot kneeling there?

"What's your budget?" Javy started off with.

"We're having a baby in three months," Jake reminded Javy, staring down at the rings. "And we're trying to buy a house."

"Should we go to Walmart then?" Jake shot Javy a look, clearly anxious, causing Javy to chuckle and turn back to the display case. "Don't shit your pants over it. We'll find the perfect one."

"I remember telling you that," Jake mumbled, studying more of the rings below him.

"Turn around is fair play," Javy joked, picking up a card that showed off the different cuts and sizes. "Here, does this give you any sort of idea of what to get?"

"This is her mom's ring," Jake replied, showing Javy a picture of it. "She held onto it until Rooster proposed to Emma with it and I think she still has that in her head."

"You're just going to get a replica then?"

“No, but something similar, I guess. We're not her parents, but I know that she holds onto their story. And she's already cried to me about them not being here and I just want to make her happy and feel like they're still apart of this whole thing."

"You need to save these little speeches for your proposal. Stop wasting them on me," Javy stated, though it made Jake smile to himself. "Alright, those ones are similar over there."

"Can I help you gentlemen with anything?" an employee asked as he walked over to them.

"He's buying an engagement ring," Javy explained, causing the employee to nod.

Jake pointed out a few that looked good to him and inspected them closely as the attendant listed off their details. Moving onto the third ring that he selected, Jake paused, admiring it.

It was a simple three stone ring on a silver band. The middle stone was fairly bigger than the surrounding stones, which gave the ring an intricate appearance. It was similar enough to your mother’s ring, but it was distinctly its own ring too.

And Jake quietly favored the three stone rings, since you were going to be a family of three shortly. It just felt symbolic.

God, he was turning into a sap.

"She'll love it, Jake," Javy replied supportively, staring down at the ring too. “And you already got her pregnant anyways, so she'll probably agree right away.”

"Thanks, Javy," Jake returned, rolling his eyes before handing the ring over to the attendant.

~~~~~

After some research and asking around, you decided to reach out to a local photographer to put together a gift for Jake’s promotion. You never really saw yourself as the type to get a maternity shoot done, but Jake loved the photos from your ultrasound so much that you felt like it just made sense.

Ringing the doorbell and waiting a bit nervously, you smiled when the photographer came walking over to the door. She unlocked it and let you inside, offering you a kind smile.

“Hi, I’m April. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she greeted you, shaking your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You followed her back into her studio, your nerves building a little bit. "I've never done anything like this before."

“Not a problem at all. I'll walk you through the process."

April gave you a brief rundown of her equipment and how the photoshoot would go. You already sent her some references and April told you that you would work off of those and see what direction that the photoshoot would take.

“So, you’re doing these for your boyfriend?” April asked as she fixed the lighting.

“Yeah, he just got a big promotion at work, and this was sort of my best idea of what to get him,” you explained, setting down your bag.

"He's a pilot, right?"

"He's a naval aviator," you agreed, looking around the studio.

"I can see the appeal," April mused, hopping down from the ladder and walking over to her camera. "Alright, let's start with that long dress then."

You posed a bit awkwardly for a time but as you and April talked more about your baby and your relationship with Jake and she put on some soothing music, you grew more confident and comfortable with the photoshoot.

"Do you know if you're having a girl or boy?" April asked, straightening up.

"Not yet no. We wanted to wait. Or, I wanted to wait, I guess. I don't think he cared."

"Do you have a preference?" April questioned, lining up another shot.

"Well, I'd be happy either way. I just want the baby to be happy and healthy. But I have a suspicion that we're having a boy."

"Does he want a boy too?"

"No, he wants a girl. Of course, he'll be so happy with a little boy, but I just know he's picturing a little girl." Smiling to yourself as you looked down at your bump, you heard the sound of April's camera going off. "She would have him wrapped around her finger the second that he sees her. That's the thing about men in that kind of industry. They're all tough and macho and then they have a little girl, and then they turn into puddles like that."

April took another photo of you as you talked about your child and Jake before walking over to show you the results. As she slid through them, she smiled at your reaction.

"The best photos are usually the ones that you don't know are being taken," April replied, stepping back. "Did you want to do some more in the dress, or did you want to change?"

"I think those are perfect. Can we do those black and white photos that I showed you next?"

You pulled on Jake's white button up and a simple pair of black stretchy shorts. Buttoning up the shirt so that your breasts were covered but your bump was completely shown off, you returned to where April was waiting for you.

Repeating a lot of the same poses that you did before in your pink dress, you added some more that really focused on your bump.

"Have they kicked yet?" April asked, taking a close up of your bump.

"No, not yet. But we're counting down the days until it happens. My boyfriend always tries to get them to kick before bed, but he hasn't been successful yet."

"He sounds like he's really excited," April mused, taking another shot.

"He is," you agreed, smiling softly.

April walked over to her prop box and pulled out a toy plane. Walking back over to you, she placed the toy on your bump and with just a little sticky material, it stayed in place for a few shots.

You wrapped up the photoshoot and April uploaded the photos to a flash drive for you to take home. You picked a few photos to get printed in time for Jake's promotion ceremony as you contemplated doing a few more. Especially as you looked over the other references that April pulled out.

"Do you do a lot of these?" you asked April, pointing at one.

The woman in the photo was kneeling on the floor, her bump and a well-placed arm protecting her modesty. You had seen photos like that one before but thought it was too bold.

But now you were having second thoughts about it.

"A fair number," April assured you, causing you to bite your lip. "Did you want to try them out?"

"I'd feel weird about those getting printed," you admitted, causing April to smile.

"I print those in house, usually. Or I just do them with a Polaroid. Does that change your mind?"

You went and changed again, still a bit shy as you kneeled down on your mark. You knew that you weren't exactly anywhere near your most beautiful right now, but these photos were for Jake, and he only seemed to get more loving with you as you got larger.

Resting one arm over your breasts, you arched your back and held the pose from the reference shot. April directed you to turn your head a bit towards her.

“Now, imagine that he’s standing right behind me.”

You adjusted your head a bit more and changed your expression until April took the photo.

~~~~~

It was a scorching hot day in Miramar, and you were trying to focus on the ceremony and not how much you were sweating. Hoping that you didn’t already look like a mess, you started to fan yourself with the ceremony pamphlet.

“You alright?” Bradley asked quietly, leaning over.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled back, fanning yourself some more. “Just a little sweaty.”

“A little?”

You elbowed him in the side before focusing on the stage again. You knew that Jake was up next and you didn’t want to miss it. And when they called his name and he got his new pins, you clapped proudly with everyone else as he shook Cyclone’s hand.

The ceremony wrapped up shortly afterwards and everyone stood up, but you continued to sit, not wanting to have to push through everyone. Not when your baby was sitting uncomfortably and moving around at the least opportune times. So, you would just wait for him.

Jake shook hands with the high ranking naval officers, trying to politely move his way over to where you were waiting for him. Excusing himself, he weaved through a few more people before he finally spotted you sitting towards the back. You smiled and waved to him, continuing to fan yourself with the pamphlet.

Jake strode quickly down the aisle towards you. Taking your time, you slowly stood up from your seat as Jake slid into the row in front of you to get to you faster because there was no way that Bradley was going to move out of the way in time.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander,” you told Jake, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he mused, pulling you in for a soft kiss and resting his hand on your bump.

“There are other people around,” Rooster reminded the two of you, earning a pinch from his wife.

“Sorry we’re so far back,” you stated as Jake pulled away. “I was worried that I’d have to pee and need a quick escape route.”

“That’s fine. You’re drinking enough water, right?” Jake asked with a dash of concern.

“Yeah. And now I really need to pee,” you replied sheepishly, causing Jake to chuckle.

“I'll go with you,” Emma offered, standing up too.

“We’ll be right back,” you promised Jake, pressing another kiss to his lips.

You and Emma walked away, leaving Jake and Bradley alone with each other. Jake could have walked off, but he wanted to wait for you. So, he just stood there awkwardly with your brother.

“Congratulations,” Rooster stated calmly, standing up from his seat.

“Thank you,” Jake returned with a nod. Taking his cap off of his head, Jake tucked it under his arm. “I’m sure that the rest of the squad will get their promotions soon.”

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’m separating in six months,” Bradley replied seriously, causing Jake to blink with surprise.

“You’re not renewing?”

“No. Neither is Payback.

“Right,” Hangman spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why now?”

“Emma and I agreed to start trying for a baby in a few months. I’m already working towards my masters and Mav has a friend who could get me a job in the city once I finish it.”

“Have you told everyone?”

“She already knows,” Bradley stated, causing Jake to glance in the direction that you left in. “I’ve already accomplished everything that I wanted and now I’m ready to be home with my wife and our future kids. And maybe a dog if I manage to convince her.” Bradley scratched his cheek before dropping his hand. “We’ll tell everyone else after your baby’s born and things settle down.”

“Congrats to you too then,” Jake responded quietly.

“Thanks.” Bradley shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Did they give you your orders yet?”

“Not yet. But I’m dreading it already.”

“Nothing you can do about it,” Bradley reminded him.

“No,” Jake agreed quietly. “Doesn’t make it easier.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

They didn’t say much more than that, but there was a silent understanding that passed between them. Jake looked up as you came walking over with Emma.

“You good?” you called out to Jake, noting his smile was slow to return.

“I’m good,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m very good.”

“For the love of—”

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invisiblestringmm · 3 days

Text

chapter six

and if you ask me to, daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, i’ma give you the world

author: writing this had me sobbing a few times and i truly hope you'll love it as much as i do. let's keep in mind that this is a work of fiction, and that i do not know nor am associated (unfortunately) to any of the real people mentioned here. tw: massive fluff, description of anxiety, angst

word count: 7.758k words

It wasn’t a long drive to the estate, but the portion of time you spent in your car parked out front was longer than what you had planned - lost in your thoughts, you made an effort to gather a bit more of the courage you knew you still had in your core to now face the most significant person in this whole chaos: your daughter, the love of your life. You knew Lily would eventually bring up so many questions that your only hope was that she’d wait for Mason to be around, but knowing her all too well, her focus would be entirely on meeting her dad; you could already see the twinkle in her eyes, the impatience hovering over her making that little human pace relentlessly whenever she had to wait for things to happen when they should and not on her time - which was nothing like you, because you considered yourself fairly patient. So that was another thing she probably got from Mason.

With another sigh parting your lips, you eventually made your way to the big house - only to be welcomed by your mum’s frantic screams that Christmas was ruined, by your dad’s hopeless and anguished glance, and a pair of tiny arms that made your entire world stop because nothing else mattered. Lily held you tight like you’d been away for years and not for just a few hours. “I missed you, mummy. Abuelita is angry,” she pouted, her big hazel eyes gleaming with tears she seemed to be containing for a while now.

“Oh baby,” you cooed. “What happened?”

Lily carefully explained the same way she heard: there was a big snowstorm and pretty much every family member that was expected to join them for Christmas wouldn’t be able to make it. So far, it was just the four of you, Emma (your cousin, daughter of your father’s brother), and her two children, Louis and Oscar, the 8-year-old twins. Inevitably, your thoughts went straight to Mason and how having him there would be perfect. Not the way your mum truly wanted, but it’d make Lily happy and whatever made your daughter happy, also made your parents happy.

Back in Surrey, Mason quickly typed you a message after declining two of your calls.

Watching half of his family still in shock with the news he just dropped could be amusing if it wasn’t something so serious - although Mason was sure that, at some point in life, they’d all have a good laugh about it. His sister’s soft hand squeezing his shoulder felt reassuring, but Mason could still feel his heart pounding against his chest and the silence filling his large living room was the scariest sound he had ever heard. Lewis was the first one to break it with a sigh, and Mason could only hope he’d say something funny to break the tension, but it didn’t happen - at least not yet.

“Are you sure she’s yours?” Lewis questioned and Mason scanned his dad’s face starting to turn red, the veins in his forehead throbbing under Lew’s question.

Before Mason could answer, Jaz took a step forward and went big sister mode just like he expected she would. “Let’s not rule out a DNA test, but you’ve all met this little girl before.” The confused look on their faces swapped back to shock once Jasmine showed them Lily’s picture - Debbie had tears in her eyes and glanced at Mason, desperately waiting for him to say something, but the truth was he was never the one to hide this from them.

“I know it’s a shock to all of you, as it is for me too,” Mason began, swallowing a sob before he could start weeping the way he did this morning. “But I need you all with me in this because everything I’ll do from now on is for her, it’s not about me. I need you all to make this about her as well.” It seemed like those words were all his mum needed to ultimately allow those insisting tears to roll down her cheeks and search for her husband’s hand, who softly squeezed it, giving her the comfort she needed that everything would be just fine in the end. “This is far from how I expected it’d be,” Mason added. “But I can’t say that I’m not happy. I truly can’t wait to be with her and be the father she deserves.”

As Mason nervously rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to control how sweaty and shaky they were, he observed his dad end the short distance between them and pull him into a hug. He didn’t need words from Tony to know his dad was proud of how he was handling the situation, and whatever damage control they’d eventually have to do would be properly taken care of. But, at this moment, it was all about her. It was about making sure that Lily would have everything she always wished for, and deserved.

Mason knew it would be the biggest challenge of his life, he didn’t have 9 months to prepare himself nor to understand how it was to be a father. What if he wasn’t able to love her unconditionally, or to be everything she expected he’d be? What if he ended up being the worst dad he could possibly be? His only hope was in what his father himself represented - Tony taught him to be a good man, to fight for his family, and to be honest and decent.

Mason’s life wasn’t his own anymore, and that frightened him to the core, but he also felt prepared to fully embrace all the changes that’d come with it because deep down, he knew it’d be worth it.

While Jasmine distracted his parents and brother with pictures and the few stories and details she knew about, Mason hurried to call you back. While he waited for you to pick up, he thought how odd something so simple also felt so intimate - calling you, someone he thought about from time to time, to talk about the life you two shared. A beautiful little girl, whom he couldn’t wait to meet.

“Hello?” you breathed on the other side of the phone, trying to concentrate on the call and on Lily jumping on your bed after having a large cup of cocoa with marshmallows. “Lilian Maisie, I swear to God that if you vomit on this bed…”

Mason couldn’t hold back a laugh, but he also felt his chest clenching a bit with the sudden urge to be there. “Hi, it’s me. Mason.”

“Mase, hi!” he grinned at the nickname, loving how it sounded coming from you. “I tried to call you before.”

“I know, I was with my family. I told them about Lily.”

“Oh? How did it go?”

During most of the talk, you felt yourself going a bit dizzy from holding your breath. It was almost like you were waiting for something bad to happen like you were ready to protect your daughter from everything and everyone, but his family’s reaction was expected and you couldn’t really imagine what they were going through, but you felt deeply sorry and embarrassed to be the one causing it - muttering “I’m so sorry, Mason” during the phone call was the least you could do, and although it was sweet of him, the fact that Mason kept telling you to stop apologising didn’t make things easier. You knew you’d have to work hard to fix things, and that as long as it wouldn’t affect her routine, it was their right to have a free pass to your daughter’s life whenever they wanted.

“Did you tell her?” Mason asked, chewing the inside of his cheeks as he anxiously waited for an answer.

“No,” you heard him sigh. “But only because I wanted to ask you something first.” Mason softly hummed, waiting for you to continue. “Would you like to spend Christmas with your daughter, Mase? Bring your family too, or don’t, I dunno. But they’re all more than welco-”

“Yes, I’d very much like to spend Christmas with her,” Mason interrupted. “With you two.”

Insane was the only word you and Mason could find to address this entire situation, it was all happening so fast that you two shared something in common: fear. Of not giving everyone time to process the news, of dropping this on Lily’s shoulders, and, somehow, causing more damage than good. For Lily, it wouldn’t be just meeting her dad, as he was also her best friend’s uncle - no matter how mature she seemed to be, Lily was still just a child and you and Mason feared her reaction. He was particularly terrified of not being good enough, that she’d be disappointed when she found out he’s her dad but you repeatedly told him that Lily loved him unconditionally.

He couldn’t deny that he was a bit disappointed to be going alone, but it made sense that his family decided to stay behind, saying that this moment was private. In a quick phone call with Jaz, she promised they were considering joining your family for Boxing Day and that they all appreciated the invitation - Jaz mentioned how her mum’s emotions were everywhere, wanting to know everything she possibly could about her granddaughter, so you kindly sent a few pictures and videos of Lily growing up.

While the kids were playing, you took the opportunity to let your parents know about your decision to invite Mason, which seemed to make your mum quite happy. You also had to update Emma, who had always been one of the most discreet and private members of the family; she pulled you into a hug and said you could count on her for anything and, between giggles, that she’d do her best to control her twins who were obsessed about football just like any other boys their age. Although overwhelming, it also felt like a relief to be able to finally tell people about Lily’s dad.

You were finally alone with Lily in her room, braiding her hair the way she liked, as she moved unquietly on the chair placed in front of the mirror. “Peanut, sit still please,” you hummed, a frustrated moan parting your lips seeing your request was pointless.

“But I want to know what the surprise is!” Lily pouted, little arms crossed against her chest.

“It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you,” you winked, not letting her see how amused you were when she huffed and finally sat still.

Always independent and self-sufficient, Lily politely dismissed your help when she went to pick an outfit. You instructed her to go for something warm, and even if she seemed a bit confused with the tights, she managed to do it all on her own, which brought you both comfort and nostalgia to see her growing up so fast. Until weeks ago, when Jasmine walked into your lives, it was just the two of you against the world and although you believed it to be enough, of course, there was always something missing and not just for her - you missed it too, having someone to share the wonders of the things she did that were so little to some, but so meaningful to you; and you knew that no one could fill that gap better than Lily’s father.

As he drove to your place, Mason pictured all different scenarios of him meeting Lily. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the mixture of excitement and fear that coursed through him - Mason rehearsed the moment countless times in his mind since he found himself alone, yet he also knew that nothing could truly prepare him for it. As the GPS showed he was getting closer and closer to the estate, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelmed him.

His mind raced with questions. Would she really like him, like you said? Would she be scared? Could he truly be the father she deserved? Mason felt his chest filling with both hope and dread. The weight of all those years, unaware there was a little yet huge piece of him out in the world, pressed down on him - the years he had missed, the milestones he hadn’t been there for. Mason couldn’t let a grudge take over him, there was no point now.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves once he spotted the large gate in front of him. Definitely, no one could ever say it was for the money, he thought, eyes curiously scanning the manor behind the gates - Mason didn’t have to announce his arrival, as he watched it slowly open for him. Not far away, he could spot your figure, standing outside the white door. You seemed as nervous as he was.

As Mason parked his car between a brand new black Range Rover and a racing green Aston Martin Valour he recognised as being limited edition, Mason felt the palms of his hands sweat even more. This wasn’t his usual habitat, none of his friends nor acquaintances were this wealthy. Part of him felt uncomfortable, but the other was relieved to know you were the opposite he’d expect someone this wealthy to be - he instantly assumed your family was as lovely as you.

When your eyes finally met his, you caught him wiping his hands on his jeans. You two could hear the loud waves of laughter of children coming from inside the house, filling the silence between you but Mason felt disconnected, focused solely on meeting his daughter. He finally stood tall in front of you, cheeks pink from the cold but he looked as gorgeous as ever - Mason seemed to relax a bit under your touch when you squeezed his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Mason,” you said softly. “We’ll do it together and it’s going to be okay, she’s the sweetest girl.”

Mason let out a heavy breath, the smell of mint and the warmth coming from him made you feel slightly dizzy, but you quickly put yourself together. “I just don’t want to scare her,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. You felt sorry for him. “I want this to be perfect.”

You smile warmly. “Just be yourself. She’s naturally a curious little girl and knows I’ve planned a surprise for her, but you’re her biggest dream and everything she always wanted,” you said. “Besides a dog. She desperately wants a dog.”

The way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he laughed was adorable and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. “Thank you, Y/n. For everything so far. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

“It’s been a journey,” you acknowledged, a soft smile curling the sides of your lips as you felt your cheeks flush pink by the sudden touch of his skin on yours - Mason held your pinky with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But Lily deserves to know her father, and you deserve to know your daughter. This is the right thing.” Mason nodded, and your eyes fell to your pinkies intertwined. “Shall we?”

Mason’s breath caught in his throat as you guided him inside the manor, and he loved that despite all the wealth, it felt like home - the warmth, the laughs, and the smell of freshly baked biscuits soothed his nerves. He carefully scanned every little detail as you guided him upstairs, then down a hallway adorned with family photos and children’s artwork. You stopped in front of a door decorated with colourful stickers spelling out ‘Lilian’.

“Can you wait inside as I go get her?” Mason nodded and walked into the bedroom after you opened the door for him. “I’ll be back with her in a minute.”

When you left, Mason found himself not knowing what to do, again. His eyes quickly scanned his daughter’s bedroom - it was smaller than he expected, it had a fantastic garden view, and walls painted in baby yellow and white. There were lots of books, a wall full of artwork, ballet stuff, and, last but not least, a football - which made him smile warmly as his chest filled with pride.

“Am I getting my surprise now, mummy?” He heard his sweet voice and Mason swallowed a sob, trying not to look like a creep standing behind that door.

“Mhmm, you can say so. I truly believe you’ll love it, angel.” You replied and he smiled at how sweet you sounded talking to her. “I won’t ask you to close your eyes because I know you won’t,” his daughter replied with a giggle, that made him want to burst into tears.

As the door slowly opened, Mason fully embraced the moment when his life wasn’t just his anymore. There she was, his little girl, looking at him with hazel eyes filled with curiosity - Mason felt like he was looking at himself. She had light brown hair that fell in loose curls around her face. The moment Mason saw her, time seemed to stand still. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a surge of emotions he had never experienced before. There was an intense mixture of love, joy, and an almost unbearable ache. The sight of her, so small and innocent, with features that mirrored his own, hit him with a profound sense of connection and loss for the time they had spent apart. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes welled up with tears.

Mason realised in that instant just how much he had missed, and how much he wanted to be part of her life. The room seemed to blur around him, and all he could focus on was Lily. His daughter. The word felt both foreign and incredibly right. He was overwhelmed by the desire to protect her, to know her, and to make up for lost time.

“Hello Lily,” Mason said softly, crouching down to her level as you guided her to him. “Remember me?”

Lily nodded. “Is Summer my surprise?” She sounded both excited and confused as she studied him with cautious interest, her mind racing as she tried to understand why her best friend’s uncle was there.

He smiled and shook his head, trying to steady his nerves, eyes looking up searching for yours in a silent ask for help.

“No, baby,” you cooed, “Mason is your surprise.”

Lily’s eyes lit up with interest, head tilted to the side. “Why?”

“Because you’re Maisie and Mason,” he watched you crouching down next to her, your hand softly caressing her back as her full attention was still on him. “Remember all those nights you asked the stars to bring your daddy to you?”

Mason swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes burning with tears - he couldn’t cry now, he didn’t want Lily to see him crying, but he felt so overwhelmed by knowing how much she wanted him. The thought of that precious little girl wishing for her dad every night was one of the most painful he ever experienced, and in that moment Mason silently promised he’d never let her go through that again.

When your words finally hit her, Lily’s jaw slightly dropped and her eyes searched for yours, but quickly went back to Mason - he noticed how her little eyes teared up and she pouted, clearly experiencing a mixture of emotions that were a bit too much for her.

“You’re my daddy?” She sniffed, her voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process what was unfolding before her.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mason finally allowed tears to stream down his face as he nodded. “Yes, I’m your daddy.”

For a moment that felt like forever, Lily was silent, and Mason couldn’t ignore how you silently reassured her that it was fine to feel everything she was feeling, validating it, by either squeezing her shoulder or running your fingers through her hair. Then, with a sudden burst of emotion, Lily threw her tiny arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Mason felt a surge of warmth and love as he hugged her back, his heart overflowing. “I always wanted a daddy,” she said softly.

You didn’t know how you managed to hold your tears until now, but seeing the wide smile on his face and how Mason sighed in relief, you just couldn’t hold them back any longer. You muffled a sob by covering your mouth with your hand, and the way Mason’s hand searched for yours while not letting Lily go filled your heart with love.

He held her close, his voice choked with emotion. “And I always wanted you, Lily. I’m so happy I found you.”

Mason knew this was just the beginning, but he felt ready to face whatever came next with his daughter, and you, by his side. Lily pulled back slightly, her small hands cupping his face, making Mason giggle. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she curiously scanned his face.

“Summer is my cousin,” she said, a wide smile on her lips when Mason nodded. “Does she know?”

“Not yet,” Mason replied, “But we can tell her together and I’m sure she’ll be really happy.”

As if her thoughts and what was happening were still sinking in, Lily suddenly threw herself back in Mason’s arms, hiding her face in the crook of his neck to muffle her cry - even so, not once did Mason let go of your hand, which was the reassurance you needed to know that things would be alright and that you two would do it together, because you were a family now. You two were everything Lily needed.

“You’re the best Christmas present in the world, Masey,” a slight disappointment coursed down his spine when Lily called him by his nickname, but he’d never rush her to call him ‘dad’. “I-I mean, da-“

“It’s alright, bubba,” Mason interrupted her, softly kissing her forehead when Lily pulled back again. “You can call me whatever makes you feel comfortable, yeah?”

She silently nodded, smiling at him when he wiped her tears. You felt your heart skip a beat at the gesture.

“Do you want to see the drawings I did today?” she asked, small hands reaching his. Lily smiled again when she noticed he was still holding yours.

Mason smiled back, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I’d love to, sweetheart.”

You gently squeezed his hand, letting it go before Lily led him to her drawing table, where colourful sketches of flowers, animals, and fantastical scenes covered the surface. Lily picked one of her favourites, a vibrant drawing of a butterfly garden, and handed it to him. Mason took the drawing, marvelling at the details and creativity - she really was everything you’d told him, and seeing that by himself filled him with pride. Lily was part of him, she was also his, and he could barely believe that he managed to do that when he often doubted he could do something good, something beyond special.

“This is one of my best,” she said proudly.

“I love the colours you used,” he said, showing interest, which made her eyes sparkle. “You’re the most talented artist.

Lily beamed at the praise, making you chuckle. “Can we draw together sometime, Masey? And play football too?”

“I’d like that very much,” Mason replied, crouching down her level again, holding her hands. “We can do everything you want.”

You watched your daughter narrow his eyes at him as a cheeky smile curled the sides of her lips. “Can we go get a dog now?”

“Lilian Maisie!” you scolded her but couldn’t hold back the happiness that bubbled up inside you and ended up letting a loud laugh part your lips. The way the three of you laughed, filling the room with so much joy and peace made you feel lighter.

Mason leaned forward to gently kiss her forehead again and wrapped his arms around her small figure, lifting her in the air as she squealed between giggles. “Let’s stick to football and drawing, yeah?”

Lily nodded in approval and kissed his cheeks. He was her daddy and he was a lot more than she ever dreamed of; the fact that he was also her best friend’s uncle, which made Summer her cousin, was something Lily still couldn’t believe - she wanted to scream, to see her bestie as soon as possible, hug her and never let her go. There was so much happiness inside her chest that it brought tears back to her eyes, and as she silently watched Mason with what felt like a permanent frown, Lily felt hot tears wet her cheeks again.

“Are you staying forever?” she sniffed, cupping his face with her small hands again.

Mason nodded, wiping her tears with gentle kisses. “Forever, bubba. I’m never leaving you,” he whispered against her skin, and you had to sit on her bed as you felt your legs weaken at how wholesome that moment was.

“Do you promise?” Lily insisted.

“I promise.”

The three of you spent the next hours drawing and chatting, with Lily sharing stories about her favourite things - she proudly told her daddy about being very good at football and was particularly happy when he told her that he was there for the ballet recital. Mason listened intently, soaking in every little detail, every laugh, and every smile. She was indeed the sweetest girl, and as he reached again for your hand - his pinky intertwined with yours - Mason felt a sense of peace and fulfilment that he had never known before.

As the evening drew to a close, and Mason had memorised pretty much every inch of his daughter’s face and how incredible she was, a knock on the door brought the three of you back to Earth. With the kindest smile on her face and pride in her eyes, your mum’s face beamed with happiness as she watched Lily glued to her father.

“Hi,” her voice was soft, and kind, and Mason felt oddly comfortable for a first meeting. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we’re all starting to get ready for Christmas dinner.”

You noticed Mason was slightly confused since it was still the 24th, but you patiently explained that you always had two celebrations: one on the 24th because it was part of your mum’s culture and your dad didn’t want to change it for her, which Mason thought it was quite romantic of him; and the other on the 25th. He liked how you all seemed to be pretty close and supportive, how your mum was very discreet and talked to him like it wasn’t the first time they were seeing each other - she treated him like family, just like you told him before.

Even so, Mason stood up still holding Lily in his arms, and walked towards your mum. “Hi ma’am, I’m Mason,” he smiled politely and the way your mum sighed in delight made you want to run away and hide. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“He’s my daddy, abuelita,” Lily said proudly, making you all chuckle.

“Is he really, amor?” your mum winked at her. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Mason. We settled the guest room for you.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” your mum nodded at his words with a gentle smile on her lips and, after blowing a kiss to your daughter, left.

The hardest task was convincing Lily to let Mason go but he was so gentle and so patient that she didn’t argue when he offered her choices - he definitely understood how tantrums worked, but also understood how much she wanted to spend every second of every minute with him after years of not having him. Together, the three of you went downstairs so Mason could pick up his small luggage as you waited inside and Lily watched him through the window.

“Are you happy, baby?” you asked, running your fingers down her hair.

Lily nodded. “So much, mummy. This is the best Christmas ever!”

She was naturally a happy little girl, but you couldn’t remember seeing her this happy - you also couldn’t shake the feeling that such happiness could’ve come much earlier if you’d searched for him before. The way Mason smiled at her as he made his way back to the house was the sweetest in the world, and before he could even open the door, Lily stormed out to welcome him back. You guided him to the guest room, which was between yours and Lily’s, and Mason awkwardly kissed your cheek before you separated and it was just you and Lily again.

“What is it?” you asked, watching your daughter grinning at you.

“He kissed you, mummy!” Lily whispered between giggles like she was sharing a silly secret. You felt your cheeks burn under her comment but didn’t reply or she’d turn it into an endless teasing.

“Let’s focus on what you’ll wear, yeah?”

Lily nodded. “Can we match outfits, mummy?”

“I suppose we can, peanut.”

The way Lily was focusing a lot more on what you were wearing rather than focusing on herself wasn’t suspicious considering you knew your daughter all too well, Lily was always up to something when she hyper-focused on one thing and made that thing her little project - still, you wouldn’t ruin this for her and allowed her to do whatever she wanted, so that’s how you two ended wearing matching white knit sweaters, black tights and tweed skirts. It was both adorable and funny, but the cherry on top was Mason wearing pretty much the same colours as you, except his sweater had some pretty details in navy blue - he seemed amused by it as there was a permanent grin on his lips as the three of you went downstairs to meet the rest of your family.

You noticed a slight change in his posture when the sound of your father’s voice reached you, so this time it was your turn to hold his pinky as a gesture that it’d be just fine and he had nothing to worry about. Mason seemed surprised by it but also seemed to relax, offering you a warm smile in return, a smile that made your heart beat slightly faster. Before walking into the living room, you let go of him, which got Mason more upset than he expected but he shook it off.

“There you are!” cheered your father, his arms wide open as he ran past you and went straight to Mason. “I was wondering when I’d see you, lad.”

The older man’s sympathy caught him a bit off guard in the most positive way as two main things could make him dislike Mason: getting his daughter pregnant and being a Chelsea player, but still, there he was treating him as if they were longtime buddies. You let go of the fact that your dad pretty much ignored your presence, knowing that there was a chance that he was slightly starstruck that Mason was in his living room. You grinned when Mason glanced at you - a playful smirk curling his lips - before your dad put his arm over Mason’s shoulder and guided him to his collection of overpriced whisky. They were followed by your cousin’s twins, who couldn’t believe that THE Mason Mount was there.

It was just you, your mum, and Emma now, and noticing how Lily seemed a bit upset that her father was the centre of all the attention, you decided to do a FaceTime call with Willow and Jaz. Lily was the one to tell her auntie Willow that her daddy was there with them, that he was staying forever, and that she’d convince him to get her a dog - something you protested again, but asked yourself for how long you’d be able to avoid another addition to the family and one more responsibility on your hands. You promised Willie to keep her updated and that they could meet for a girls’ night once you were back in London, something she was more than happy about, and promised she’d have a very fun schedule for both of you so you could take a break from all the recent stress that surrounded you.

The next one was Jasmine, who answered faster than you expected, which made you giggle as she seemed overly excited to know everything saying Mason hadn’t told her with all the details she wanted. “We’ll have to meet when I’m back in London so I can give you the detailed version,” you said, watching her roll her eyes at you on the other side of the screen.

“You two are the perfect match, no surprise you have a daughter together,” Jaz teased, making your cheeks blush. “Did he cry?”

“He’d cry even if he was a robot, Jaz. It was a very touching moment,” you admitted and she gave you a warm smile. “I’m happy with how well it went, Lily is having the time of her life although right now she’s a bit upset by my dad monopolising him.”

Jasmine let out a cheerful laugh. “He was so nervous to meet your dad,” she confessed. “I’m so happy it went well, Y/n. It’s so important for Lily that he’s there for her.”

You nodded, chewing your lower lip, trying your best not to cry again. “How did your family react, though?”

“Oh well, they still can’t really believe it. I think my mum is still in shock, she keeps saying that she should’ve known when they met, like some sort of grandmother's sixth sense,” you felt your chest clench a bit, knowing it was you who caused this.

“It’s not her fault,” you mumbled, watching Jaz nod. “Is she there now? Do you guys want to see Lily?”

Jaz opened a wide and sweet smile for you and moved her phone just a bit, Debbie was sitting right next to her, with Summer on her lap. Your cheeks blushed at how emotional she seemed to be and you just wanted to hug her and apologise for all the mess you made and for taking five years of her life with Lily, but you’d do it in person.

“Hi auntie Y/n,” Summer said, waving at you.

“Oh sweetie, hello. Someone here wants to see you,” you walked towards Lily, who was sitting on the floor drawing something. Her face lit up when she saw her best friend’s face on the screen.

“Sumi!” Lily tried to take the phone from your hand but you gently pulled away, afraid she’d let slip something that was meant to be told in person. She pouted a little but seemed to understand the message. “I have so much to tell you!”

Amused by your daughter’s excitement, Summer giggled. “I miss you, Lili,” the little girl said, and you noticed how their interaction made Debbie emotional.

You discreetly pointed at Debbie so your daughter would acknowledge her too but you noticed how her cheeks blushed, and she seemed relieved that Debbie took the first step and asked her if she was having fun. Lily showed the drawing she was finishing shortly before the call.

“This is me in the middle, my mummy and my daddy. Now that I know him I can paint his hair colour,” you melted at how she explained every detail. “This is Mr. Peanut, the dog my daddy will give me when we can convince mummy.”

You narrowed at her but she just giggled, followed by Mason right behind you - the way he just stood there watching Lily was the sweetest, a warm smile on his lips. ‘It’s your mum’ you mumbled to him, and you noticed how happy that information made him feel because his smile doubled the size. Right behind him, your dad smiled proudly at you and blew you a kiss. Lily said goodbye to her and ran straight to Mason, while you talked to Jaz for a few more minutes while he and your dad entertained the little one. Shortly after you said goodbye to her and Debbie, you heard Lily slightly upset about her interaction with the latter.

“Do you think she’s upset I didn’t call her grandma?”

Mason shook his head and leaned a bit to kiss the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “Never,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about that bubba. Take your time, yeah? There’s no need to rush.”

Noticing this was a father and daughter moment, your dad walked away and linked his arm to yours, guiding you to where your mum and cousin were while Mason walked with Lily in his arms to see the Christmas lights that decorated the garden, through the window. They were so comfortable with each other that it felt like this wasn’t even their first day together.

Your mum welcomed you with a glass of white wine - she seemed much calmer now even if pretty much the whole family didn’t make it due to the snowstorm.

“Family is family, there’s lots of them missing but what we have tonight is perfect,” she pointed at Lily and Mason. “I’ve never said this to you, but that’s what I’ve been longing to see. My granddaughter with her father.”

“I think he’ll be a great one,” your father added, sipping his whisky. “You can see that he’s trying, the least we can do is to make him feel comfortable.”

Their support, from the very beginning, was one of the things that made you stronger whenever you had to face the challenges of motherhood - your parents were never there to spoil you nor treat you like some sort of victim but rather made you see all the options you had and each of the consequences that followed according to whatever choice you decided to make.

Completely taken by your emotions, you threw yourself in your dad’s arms and your mum joined for a family hug. Being an only child had never been a problem when your parents were so present, despite such busy lives they had. They never missed the most important moments of your life and were always there whenever you needed them. Those two were your best friends.

For the rest of the evening, all of you enjoyed proper family time with games, stories shared between laughs and fantastic food cooked by your mum - she always dismissed the staff so they could spend the holidays with their families and the food was entirely her responsibility. She blushed when Mason said it was one of the best he ever had, and you knew he wasn’t just trying to find a way to her heart. He actually meant it.

“Mummy,” you felt Lily softly poke your ribs, seeming a bit shy to say what was on her mind. You offered her a kind smile in return. “Do you think there’s still time to rewrite my letter to Santa?”

You frowned. “Why, baby?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I think I can wait for the ice skates, I want to ask Santa for my dad to still be here in the morning.”

That was when your heart broke into a million pieces. “Oh baby,” you cooed, pulling a string of hair from her face, and took her in your arms, sitting on the same armchair where you first spoke to her while still pregnant. “He’s not leaving”.

“I just want to make sure, mummy…”

“I know, we’ll write if that’s what you want,” you quickly replied, not wanting to invalidate her feelings. “You know when you were still in my tummy and was the size of a bean,” she giggled. “I sat in this armchair and spoke to you for the first time. I promised I’d try to be the best mummy to you and sometimes I wish I was better.”

“You’re the best mummy in the world,” Lily said, her small hand touching your face as her thumb softly stroked your cheek. You smiled softly.

“Now, in this same armchair, I promise that he’s not leaving. Your daddy is staying forever and now you have another grandma and grandpa, you have a cousin, aunties, uncles…”

“Do you think they’ll like me?” she mumbled, hazel eyes looking at you like she could see your soul.

“They’ll love you, peanut.”

“I’ll love them too,” she said before a long yawn, blinking a few times as she was clearly starting to fight against her need to sleep. “But I’ll always love you the most, mummy…” Lily mumbled before her eyes finally closed and, after a long sigh, her body finally relaxed in your arms and the usual low, cute snores started.

All the love that your daughter gave you had always been something that overwhelmed you. The way her face lights up when you pick her up at school, how she always wants to show you first the new things she learns, and how she’s always checking on you and making sure you’re happy were a few of the things that made you know for sure that if soulmates were indeed real, Lily was yours. Pride always coursed through your veins whenever she showed an act of kindness, and joy involved your entire being knowing that it had influence of how well you raised her - still, you still couldn’t shake the anguish that made your chest clench whenever you thought about how you prived her from another life the moment you decided to hide her from Mason. That was the feeling that kept you up for hours, rolling from one side to the other in bed, with the desperate need to cry always hovering over you.

After putting on your robe and grabbing the baby monitor, you guided your tired body to the kitchen and, trying not to make too much noise, prepared yourself a cup of chamomile tea hoping it’d save your life. You enjoyed the combination of silence and the sweet hot liquid relaxing your body - the house was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional creak of the floorboards and the soft hum of the refrigerator. Lost in your thoughts, you sat at the kitchen table staring at the half-empty cup, replaying the events of the past weeks over and over in your mind.

You heard soft footsteps and looked up to see Mason entering the kitchen, his face pretty much like yours: etched with worry and exhaustion. He hesitated a bit at the doorway before stepping in, your eyes meeting his.

“Can’t sleep too?” you asked gently, watching him take a seat across from you.

Mason shook his head. “Too much on my mind.”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to the table. Taking a deep breath, you felt your voice trembling as you spoke. “I need to say something.”

Mason looked at you, sensing the weight of your words. “Go ahead, Y/n. I’m listening.”

You wrung your hands, struggling to find the right words. Looking at him again, you felt a knot forming in your throat. “I feel so guilty about keeping Lily away from you. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing at the time, but I realise it was a lot more about protecting myself rather than protecting her. Seeing you with her now… and how happy she is. I feel awful, and I know I was wrong.”

Mason sighed deeply, his emotions a turbulent mix of anger, sadness, and understanding.“I confess that this is like… my worst nightmare. A child from a casual hookup,” he confessed, and you felt tears burning your eyes. “And knowing this child exists five years later did make me angry. I’ve missed so much of her life and there’s so many things involved.”

Tears welled up in his eyes but you watched him wipe them away quickly. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

“I can’t just insert myself in her life without thinking about every detail, it’s much deeper because I bring a lot with me to everyone that’s part of my life,” much to your surprise, Mason reached for your hand, and, with your heart skipping a beat, your pinkies intertwined again. “I’m angry and hurt but I’m willing to push that away because I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, at the same time. Lily is incredible, she’s sweet and kind and you’ve been doing a fantastic job. She’s more than I could’ve hoped for, so I’ll fight everyone and everything to keep her safe. To keep you safe too.”

You didn’t wipe the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “I robbed you those first five years and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that, but I hope you can, for Lily’s sake. She deserves to have both of her parents.”

Mason’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “I need to feel that I can trust you, forgiveness will eventually come, but it’s also not like I hate you,” you watched how his cheeks suddenly blushed. “I think you’re amazing and I often thought about you and always hoped that I could find you someday.”

“Just not under this circumstance, yeah?” you added, and you two shared a laugh that pushed away whatever tension between you.

Mason nodded, letting go of your hair to stand up from his chair and sit on the one beside you. “I’ll take what life is giving me. We’ll figure it out together, Y/n. For her, and us too,” he pulled you into a comforting hug as you clung to him, your sobs quieting as you found solace in his arms.

“I’m so grateful you’re here, Mason,” you confessed as he stroked your back soothingly.

“We’re a family now, Y/n. It’s going to be tough but we’ll get through whatever comes our way. As long as we keep Lily safe and give her the love and support she deserves, everything will be fine.”

You remained there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto each other, both knowing that while the road ahead would be challenging, you were committed to facing it together for the sake of your daughter. Holding hands, you walked back to the bedroom hallway in silence, and Mason softly kissed your forehead before heading back to his. You stood there for a few minutes, contemplating how his lips felt so good against your skin, before deciding you’d sleep the few hours left for sunrise with Lily. With her hair splattered over the pillow, she had a smile on her lips as she softly hummed words you couldn’t understand, which stopped when you cuddled her under the duvet and finally closed your eyes, letting sleep relax your body.

social media au

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #dad!mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

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h8ani · 9 months

Text

A Gift For You

Pairing: Chifuyu Matsuno x Reader

Anime: Tokyo Revengers

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Nothing really, Emma isn’t really canon in this, Sano!Reader, fluffy cute as shit, her and Emma argue 🤣 lil sister tingz, afab! reader in mind!

A/N - I just wanted to say thank you @kkittycries for proofreading and helping me revise this because I most definitely would’ve trashed this 😭😭

“God, you’re so in love with him.” Emma says before taking a sip of her drink. She watches you stare off with hearts in your eyes beside her as you two sit by Hina at the shrine. Your eyes were zoned in past Mikey and on the vice captain of the first division, Chifuyu. His focus looking up as Mikey speaks aloud to all of Toman, his body straight and center, you could see his hair sway with the crisp fall breeze that came every now and then.

You weren’t listening as Emma spoke to you, barely hearing the giggle Hina let out until she nudged you to get your attention. “Huh- what?” You look at the two girls who were just smiling at you.

“Stop gawking at your boyfriend and listen to me, we need to talk about your party.” Emma says. Your eyes narrow before turning fully to her. “At least I don’t have a Draken shrine in my room.” A gasp leaves her as she sits up, slamming her canned drink on the ground.

“You didn’t!”

“Oh I did.”

The tension rises as you two stare daggers at each other, Hina uncomfortably clears her throat before speaking up. “No family fighting please! The last time you guys fought you two tumbled down the stairs.”

“That was her fault!” You both say in unison while looking at Hina causing her to shrink up at the outburst.

You and Emma were close in age which more than likely reasoned with why you two argued so much. She was a year younger than you and Mikey yet you out of all of the siblings look the most different. You had darker hair like your older brother Shinichiro and you were taller than both of them as well, standing a few inches taller as your siblings were just under you.

Emma and you were very alike aside from constantly bickering and wrestling around from time to time. You both were really sweet, caring about your friends the second you grow that bond, she has a big heart for those she loves and you’re just a bit more reserved. You’d rather like someone from afar while Emma goes and gets what she wants when she wants it.

You sigh and bring your attention back on the blonde boy you were fawning over earlier. You spend most of the nights you come here with Emma and Mikey doing this, staring from afar and not doing anything but thinking of how cute he is. You’ve been introduced to him when you were younger, always knowing all of Mikey’s friends and most of the members in Toman yet you still knew nothing about him. Sometimes you wish you could trade places with Emma, at least she’d know how to catch his attention. “Hey (y/n)?” Hina speaks up, “do you ever talk to Chifuyu?” She asks.

Your thoughts about said blonde were cut short as you feel yourself deflate. “No...” you mumble, tucking your knees against your chest.

“She’s too scared he won’t even know who she is.” Emma teases, “she’s too chicken.”

“Am not!” You whip around, glaring once again at your younger sister who’s snickering to herself. As much as you love her, you want to tackle her down the stairs once again. The bickering between you two never ceases to stop even once the meeting ends and others pass by you sparing glances at you both.

“Just go talk to him!” Emma shouts

“Who does (y/n) want to talk to?” A voice speaks up from behind you, you turn to see your brother walking up the steps of the shrine with Draken following close behind.

Your mouth drops open slightly, how much did he hear? Does he know of the feelings you’ve had? No, he couldn’t. You’ve only told-

“Oh she wants to talk to Ch-” you whip your head around to send another set of daggers at her, a sly smile spreading across her lips before she can finish her sentence. “No one, she doesn’t want to talk to anyone so nevermind.” She smiles up at Mikey, her attention now settling on Draken as she stands up.

Your eyes stay on your sister as Mikey’s stay on you, a smile threatening to form on his face as he says his next words. “I’ll just tell him to go ahead then leave then.” All three of you girls look at Mikey, curious as to who it was.

“What?” Emma asks while glued to Draken’s side.

“Who?” You raise your eyebrows, curious as to who wanted to speak to you.

A small hum came from beside you, Hina’s features riddled with confusion as to everything that’s been happening. Poor girl.

“Chifuyu, he said he wanted to talk to you but I’ll just-”

“Where is he?” You interrupt making Emma snicker and Hina lets out a small gasp. You rise to your feet and look at Mikey who can’t help but let a smile across his face. “He’s waiting by his bike, better go before you’ve made him wait too long.” You’re gone walking down the stairs before Mikey could even finish his sentence, his head follows you as you keep a steady pace trying to walk too fast to the boy who wants to talk to you.

As he watches you a smile stays formed on his face, seeing his 2 minute younger little sister who’s clearly walking like she’s on a mission was heartwarming. You tried to be tough on the outside despite you keeping everything bottled up and being one of the more sensitive siblings; you’re sometimes the spitting image of his older brother and it does something to him. Yes he’s protective over you, that’s what brothers are for, but with the similarities you give he can’t help but give you a push in life and especially in the love department, god knows Shinichiro needed it.

Your thoughts were everywhere as you made your way towards all the bikes, what did Chifuyu want to talk to you about? Why’d he send your brother out of all people? Did he catch you staring at him? No he couldn’t have you would’ve seen him look back at you there’s no way that’s the reason. But what if it is? Someone else could’ve told him and he wants to talk to you and tell you that you’re a creep. You grab onto your fingers anxiously pulling on them as your mind goes in high gear. If you turned back now you could highjack Mikey’s bike and never look back-

“(y/n).” A voice calls out ahead of you. You glance up and see Chifuyu and realize that you made it to all of the bikes. He smiles at you as he’s leaning against his own, his hands tucked away in his pockets, cheeks a light shade of pink, the weather did drop a bit since being out here. God he was just so cute. You were staring again, no words able to leave your lips as you gawk up at the boy in front of you. Embarrassment quickly takes over once you hear him chuckle. “I wanted to give you something.”

“Huh?” The word came out before you meant for it to as you were snapped out of your mindless stares. “I heard it was your birthday.” He speaks again while standing up from his bike and walking closer to you. You blinked standing there dumbfounded as you put two and two together of what he just said. Did he just say a gift?

He pulls his hands out of his pocket and raises a small necklace up in front of you. It’s a small moon pendant with a little green stone in the middle of it. Your eyes widened upon seeing it and he swore he could see the stars in the night sky sparkle in them, a smile graced your lips as you looked closer. The relief he felt once he saw your smile relaxed him a bit. “I know it’s your birthstone but if you don’t like the color then I could always return it-”

“I love it.” You interrupt while clasping your hand over the pendant. “Thank you Chifuyu. I really do love it.”

“Want me to put it on you?” He asks, you look at the necklace and hand it back to him and turn around, pulling your hair to the side so he can clasp it on better.

The necklace hangs perfectly, it’s not too big but not too small either. You turn around and meet his eyes, he smiles seeing you wear his gift.

“So um I’ve been meaning to actually ask you something.” His cheeks deepen in color as he scratches the back of his neck and chuckles. “It’s stupid really and I’m sure whoever told me is just joking.” You tilt your head in confusion but still nodding nevertheless “Do you stare at me like Mikey says?”

Emma is going to only have a sister soon enough.

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nouvxllev · 2 months

Note

Absolutely love your work! And was ecstatic when I found out you also did Emma myers! And you write so well!! 🥹 I don’t know if you’ll be up to this, so don’t feel the need I know your probably a busy bee. But I wanted to know since you do Emma myers, if you’d be willing to to do a cc Walker aged up fic, maybe where cc is in college, and she’s in a relationship with reader (I absolutely loved your jealous Tara fic) but I was wondering if you could do cc, but make it a little more soft, and possessive? Like Cc is more afraid that reader will leave her? And just soft smut? (Sapphic of course) if not then I understand. I also wanted to know if once A good girls guide to murder comes out, will you be doing pop x reader? Because Emma is so cute as pip! ❤️❤️

would it kill you to look at me instead?

Pairing: CC Walker x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!

Words: 5k (i was not expecting that damn)

Warnings: soft smut, slight angst. actually idk if its cut out to be angst, possessive cc aaaaaaa, author forgot how to actually write good stories

a/n: thank you so so sooo much!!!! and i was absolutely in love with agggtm when i read the book (i even got the whole series on my bookshelf!) so ofc ill be doing a pip x reader soon. hope i got to your expectations, anon.

masterlist.

"CC, what's up with you?"

Ava trailed after her, CC's shoes skittering along the hallway like some kind of menace, the slam of her door from her dorm was still echoing in Ava's ears.

Despite having just finished training five minutes ago, CC's steps were quick. Like they were avoiding any sort of conversation, she didn't even know why or where she was going.

"CC, please, you haven't even talked to me in a week!" Ava caught up to her, nearly tackling the girl to keep pace with her steps.

"Okay, what?" The blonde turned around abruptly, wind catching in her hair. She almost could roll her eyes if not for Ava being the sweetest being on this earth. "What, for fucks sake, what is so wrong with me?"

"That." She gestured using her pointer finger while the shorter girl pulled her lips into a thin line, "You keep snapping at everyone, and you've been staring daggers at the squad all week. It was mild at first, but now you look like you want to bury them in front of their families."

Ava leaned in further, squinting her eyes as she crosses her arms, "...Also you have these deep eyebags under your eyes."

CC's shoulder slumped, letting out an heavy sigh while her eyes closed. It burns, burns like fucking hell.

"I—"

Ava jumped forward, her eyes furrowing almost immediately, "Don't say because of exams since you're doing pretty good in terms of academics. You're even top in your classes."

"Well, fine. It's—"

"Don't say soccer too because I know your eyebags only come out of hiding when it's tournament or championship season."

"Okay, Wyatt—"

"Yale is like a million miles from us, CC. Also you don't even text Wyatt unless you need something."

"Well, I..." CC fidgeted under her, her head tilting left and right, "We've, my girlfriend have.... Have been fucking. Sex. Alot. Major, huge sex. Like, up and down, sideways, horizontally, transversally—"

"Alright, no," Ava pulled out her hand and stopped her, her other pinching the bridge of her nose, "Not in any universe would I want to hear about you and y/ns sex life."

CC chuckled, the only laugh she could ever muster. "Look, college's been kicking my ass lately and I'm just tired, really. Nothing to worry about." In all truth and oaths, she was.

She was tired.

For all the different reasons. Might even be petty ones.

So tired of hearing that one name—Clarissa Grey—coming out of your, admittedly so attractive, pretty mouth. She was a transferee yet she already caught your attention with a single 'hey, i'm new here, can you show me around?'

It had been five weekdays, not even counting weekends where Clarissa horribly clung onto you outside of school, of having your presence found nowhere but with that girl.

Normally, CC would spend every waking hour, if not for soccer, with you and you only. Clinging to your arms, holding your warm hands, tip-toeing to kiss your pretty lips she so adored, bringing you to the most expensive places you wanted, and most especially waking up with you in the early morning with your body sprawled atop hers.

It was bliss.

Was.

Now that CC was constantly being pulled to practice she couldn't spend as much time as she wanted with you. Meanwhile, Clarissa had you wrapped around her arms.

In short, Clarissa Grey is and will forever be a pain in the ass.

Clarissa—Insufferable, torturous, agonizing, intolerable, girlfriend-hogging—Grey.

She hated her.

Well, not hated. It's a strong word, a word she couldn't ever describe your, her forever beloved girlfriend, friends. Yet this girl got on her nerves more than ever.

And she's pretty sure this girl's been trying to get into your pants more than CC ever does after a rough game.

Clarissa was fine at first. CC wasn't those controlling partners who didn't allow their other to have friends; in fact, she was happy that you found a friend in the new transferee from across the world.

Now she felt like she was about to butcher the girl from mouth to anus if she ever so much as catching a wind of her presence of how she was constantly stealing you away from her.

CC took months just to muster a hi and introduce herself (through text mind you) and she didn't even check her phone for weeks after it. New girl did it in one damn day.

How could one even out-girlfriend a girlfriend of three years?

Now whenever it hits midnight and CC is finally in your arms all she could hear is:

"I'm so sorry baby, Clarissa made some plans for us."

"Sorry, CC. I have something to do with Clarissa on that date."

"Clarissa wanted to…"

"Baby, is it alright if Clarissa invited me to…"

"CC! Check it out, Clarissa just…

It's ridiculous and all CC could say was a simple yeah sure and a nod like she wasn't going to bash Clarissa's head in with a soccer ball.

She'd admit that even you get the end of the stick with her attention sometimes because of her first-class popularity that always seemed to stick around, but either way she felt really bad.

Jealousy was a stupid emotion which a stupid college girl, mind you, like her was stupidly experiencing. She was 19 experiencing her old 13 year old problems if she met you a bit more earlier. But who wouldn't get jealous?

She had the same interests as you, the same personality, likes the same movies as you, you both had an interest in whatever artist you were listening too.

She practically hung out with you everyday with how the both of you took the same classes and courses. The two of you were perfect on paper.

Clarissa wasn't some soccer-obssessed girl who doesn't spend her time in training for championships that you found yourself spending every second with her if CC wasn't around.

She has a great fashion sense without looking like whatever a 'teenybopper' is or someone dressed like Adam Sandlers.

She's probably great at cooking.

She kept her room impossibly clean as if it were brand new that you found impressive everytime she invited the both of you to her dorm.

She had this amazing ball of sunshine whenever she entered the room like it was a plague.

She probably followed what her mom told her to be when she gets into college.

She was pretty too. Her hair all shiny and she carried absolute grace and poise. Who wouldn't like her?

And that smile of hers? You found it nice. Charming, captivating. Even CC found it enchanting, it was all so surreal.

You liked her, most of all.

Shit.

Not that CC could ever doubt your loyalty to her; hell, she could invite every former crush and celebrity crush you had, and you wouldn't even bat a single eye towards them. You'd even try to desperately find the girl even if she wasn't in the room.

She doubted herself.

Who was she if not for you?

She just missed you. So much. It's killing her.

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

"CC!" You yelled, a smile creeping up your lips as you watched her jog up the bleachers in her new shoes you bought for her as an anniversary gift, it was an understatement to say that she loved it.

You watched how her exhausted face broke into a slight smile that managed to never fail to make your heart grow a garden of flowers trying to mimic her beauty, her eyes lighting up by the mere sight of you.

When she finally reached you, she practically melted into your inviting embrace. You held her chose, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath, her exhaustion from practice matches slowly going away from being in the comfort of our arms.

You feel how her breaths gradually steadied, her heartbeat turned into its normal pace, her hands snaking up to your back while she buried her head into you, subtly peppering gentle kisses along your neck.

"Y/n..." She murmured, pulling her head away slightly and turning to the side.

Your arms stayed lingered around her waist, "Yeah, baby?"

She shook her head, eyebrows slightly knitting themselves as her gaze drifted at the seats as she inched closer to your ear, "Why... why is she here?" She squeezed your hand that was wrapped around her.

You followed her line of sight to where Clarissa sat on the bleachers right next to you, watching the players off to the side at her own time.

"Well, she wanted to come along with me," you explained with a shrug, "so I brought her here." A soft smile gracing your lips as you glanced at CC who didn't match your sunny expression.

"You guys done yet?" She looked up at the both of you, her voice was oddly monotone and disinterested. Unlike a few moments ago where she was clinging onto your arm while laughing.

You lowered your arms from CC's body as you sat beside Clarissa, gesturing to your girlfriend to slightly introduce her even if they already met a couple of times.

You didn't miss the way CC's face twisted into a grimace one as she crossed her arms, mumbling a slightly less than thrilled exclaim, "Fantastic."

"It is fine for me to cheer you on, right?" Clarissa smiled. Way too innocently at CC as if she wasn't just staring her down, the change in her tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah. Yeah sure, whatever." CC replied, albeit the response came through gritted teeth as she picked up a waterbottle that sat beside you.

Clarissa smiled, laughed even, before leaning her head against you. "We have something to go after anyways, right y/n?" She looked up at you, innocent eyes that definitely didn't mimic yours as you stuttered out a response.

"We do? I didn't—"

"Okay, no, that's—!" CC's reaction was swift, immediately pulling you closer to her side, her hand having a firm grip on your arm as her voice rose in frustration yet faltered.

CC paused, seemingly collecting herself. You turned to her, confusion etched in your face, while Clarissa had a slight tug in her lips.

"That's... perfect. Amazing," she finally managed to say, letting go of her tight grip on you before standing up. "Sorry, I really have to go, I think they're calling for me. Enjoy whatever plans the both of you have."

You hear Clarissa giggle as you watch CC walk down the steps, her waterbottle discarded onto a nearby trashcan. It wasn't even half done. "Guess she doesn't like me, huh?"

A soft sigh escape your lips, your mood officially worried and concerned about CC before turning to Clarissa, "Yeah... Yeah, sorry, we have plans?"

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

Nothing could be more worrying than allowing your girlfriend CC-can't-really-monitor-her-liquor-properly-Walker attend a night party held by her teammates as some sort of 'pre-celebration' before a game.

You were already deprived out of her presence, being that you always stuck with that new girl you couldn't really find time to hang out with your girlfriend no longer than 30 minutes.

Not to mention what happened a few hours ago.

You miss her so much its tearing you apart. Unfortunately you're the book definition of a people pleaser so you took the courage to show Clarissa around for a few weeks until she got comfortable with the setting.

Most of the times CC would invite you to come along with to parties. Rejection often means she would be clinging onto your back like a koala and making out with you until the words associated with your academics disappeared from your mind.

Now she just entered the dorm, gave you a single kiss without explanation, and a simple text minutes later just stating 'ill be at a party. see you midnight xx.'

That in itself made you worried. No normal breathing CC Walker would ever use perfect grammar or would her be's or you's spelled correctly without any missing letters.

So imagine your surprise when she arrived two hours before twelve. Wasted and slightly teary-eyed, her pretty eyes avoiding looking at your direction. It was an understatement that the sight broke your heart.

"CC?" You rushed to her side almost immediately, ignoring the concerns of the amount of tasks you had on your desk.

You were met with silence. "CC, baby, are you alright? Did something happen?" you asked softly, "love, hey, look at me." You reach out to steady her as she swayed on her feet more and more in her intoxicated state until she reached her bed.

She shrugged off your touch, feeling a nagging sting in your heart that burned a void inside of you. You watched as she mutter something unintelligible under her breath, gritting her teeth as she stared at the ground.

"CC, talk to me." You carefully sat with her against your bed, fetching her the water that has been sitting on your desk, tilting your head to get her attention.

Her head turned to you, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Her pretty eyes that you adored were almost teary-eyed, "Would it kill you to look at me instead, y/n?"

"CC..." you tilted your head, your eyebrows furrowing, "CC... what? What are you talking about?"

"Why are you always with her? Clarissa?" Her name almost felt like poison in her mouth, awaiting to be spit out in venom, "Why is she always with you when I'm not around? Why are you always looking at her even if I'm mere inches away from you?"

She shook her head before you could respond, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "It's dumb. I know you're allowed to spend time with your friends. And even more to her since she's new and everything. You could spend time with anyone and I wouldn't care but I—" She took a deep breath, "Every time I see you with her, it's like… like she's much more of a good girlfriend than me you know? Because she likes you. It's kind of clear."

You couldn't feel anything but that gruesome feeling that's eating you apart. You could feel your heart tearing your own self apart as she spoke more.

"She looks at you as if you're hers, y/n. Not to mention she's always touching you, calling you names, always going out of her way to be alone with you... I mean, she asked you out as a joke. Multiple times."

"CC I never thought…" You feel a lump forming in your throat, her words heavy on your heart that were surely more heavier on hers. "I'm sorry, CC."

You reached out to cup her cheek, her body turning to face you, your thumb gently wiping a stray tear that fell on her face. "I'm so sorry, CC. You're not losing me. You will never lose me," you whispered, "I care about you more than anything. More than I breathe. I'm so sorry I made you feel like you were losing me. You have my whole heart, my body, my very soul."

Her gaze softened slightly, you could see that familiar glint you always loved to look at when you locked eyes with her. You missed it. "Is that a promise?"

Gently, you brushed your fingers against her cheek, pressing delicate kisses to her soft skin. "Far more important than a promise. I'll keep it like an oath on my life."

You let your arms wrap around her, feeling her slumping against you, curling against herself between your arms like she was trying to drown all of her burdens for you. "I'm just afraid that you'll leave me. I'm sorry for blowing up on you. I'm sure Clarissa is great."

CC felt warm, comforting, a presence that made you feel like everything to her, how she always kept you grounded. "It's alright, CC. I've been there before, don't worry. And for the record, I'm kind of getting tired of showing her around. Just a slight bit. I'll try introducing her to some people."

CC smiled against your neck, "You don't have to ignore her completely, baby. It's fine. I think my insecurities just got the best of me."

She's as comforting as the day you met her. The comforting sense of love, how you'd wake yourself up everyday just to see her face. Even if your heart gives out, you'd work through turmoil for it to beat for her. Even if you're tired, you'd manage enough energy for her to enjoy life with you.

"I'll never let you doubt my love for you again. No one could ever replace what I'm feeling with you, no one could ever replace you. You're simply everything baby, everything that life never gave me and everything life never offered."

You press a tender kiss to her forehead before making your way to her lap, pulling her collar and capturing her lips in a soft yet deep kiss.

CC responded eagerly to your kiss, closing her eyes while she let her hands wrap around your waist as she parted her lips to invite yours in as her tongue slipped between them.

With a low groan of ecstasy, you welcomed her intrusion, your own tongue fighting with hers yet you surrendered almost immediately, every touch of her in on your body sent shivers down your spine, leaving you craving for more of her.

You could feel her hands sliding under your shirt, the simple warmth of her touch, how her fingers glided smoothly against your skin and trailing to your chest was like reassurance that you were wanted and loved by her, how you were only hers.

"Baby…" you managed to murmur between her assaulting kisses that only seemed to spur her on as you went limp on her body, "have I ever told you I love the way you talk..."

You couldn't help but grin at the soft chuckle that escaped her pretty lips at your words, her kisses only growing more fervent as CC pressed herself against you all while she looked up at you with those eyes, waiting for you.

"The way you smile…" you trailed off, tugging at her shirt, tracing your fingers along her jawline, "the way you get jealous, the way you get so competitive sometimes, the way you look so lovely every waking moment, it's intoxicating."

You kissed her deeply, savoring the taste of her lips as you softly bit at her bottom lip, your voice turning husky and needy with desire, "Most importantly, I love the way you fuck me into your bed every night. You know no girl could drive me insane like what you're doing to me right now."

You didn't miss how CC's breath hitched at your words, how her eyes darkened with desire almost immediately as she pulled you by the collar of your shirt and flipped the both of you around. her hands roaming all over your body as she mumbled to her breath.

"I want you," she pleaded, "I need you, y/n, please." It wasn't a question, she needed this.

You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her close, feeling the heat of her body on top of yours as you mumbled a weak 'yes.'

CC took her time in showering you with the amount of kisses she wanted to give you, offering everything you needed with tenderness you never thought existed, the special attention that she always showed to you, worshipping every inch of your body.

She looked up at you, noticing the way your eyes closed, uncertain of whether it was out of pure bliss or discomfort. "Y/n, is this okay?", she asked softly, squeezing your hand that laid off to the side.

That was the thing about CC that you always adored, how she took the time to make sure you were comfortable in whatever she was doing. Whether she was rough or not, she was still so gentle with you, treating you as if you were porcelain about to break.

In the span of three years, her sweet and caring nature never faded no matter how much time you'll be spending time with her. She was the sweetest girl that only you knew.

You smiled at her, "Yes, CC, everything is okay. Just remind me of how much I'm yours to handle."

She nodded before returning to her usual, pulling up your shirt until it was completely off your body, "You're always so gorgeous…" She whispered against your skin, pressing her lips on your body, trailing down your chest. Each touch was gentle and tender, all just for you to feel cherished.

"I'm gonna take it off, okay, sweetheart?" CC murmured before she was lifting up your hips herself, her fingers sliding into your waistband and discarding your shorts and undergarments off to the side.

You gasped at the sudden cold air hitting your warmth as CC knelt below you to get the perfect view of your pretty pussy she so adored.

You suck a moan under her hot breath against your clit, her arms wrapping around your thighs to pull you in, "Baby, please…"

"I'll get there, pretty girl." CC whispered, taking soft licks of your juices, lapping them as she inched a little further into your warmth, groaning against you.

She looked up, watching how your body reacts with her each touch she had on you, whether she should follow your wants or what she needs to be satisfied.

She could see the flicker of pleasure in your eyes, the way your breath hitched, how you sound with every whine that elicited from your glossy lips, the way you try to cover your moans with your palm.

CC moved away, your needy whine didn't go unnoticed, her lips brushing against your wet clit before wrapping around the needy warmth and sucking gently, your body instinctively creating the perfect arch, your hips rolling into your face as you chased to get the most friction out of her mouth as she held you down by her arms.

But just as you felt nearing an orgasm, CC pulled away, only leaving you panting and wanting more.

She towered over you, spreading your legs as she leaned in closer, the sight of your juices on your lips turned you on even more.

"What do you want, baby? Tell me," she whispered, leaning in closer and planting soft kisses along your face as she waited for your answer.

"You… want you.. inside," you whispered, "want all of you, right now, please…" you moaned as the words spilled out of you in a desperate plea, discreetly rolling your hips against her thigh.

CC smiled down at you, her touch gentle and loving as her hands trailed down below to caress your soft skin before giving you what you wanted, while the other hand held up your head, showering you with praises after praises.

You kissed her back, feeling her fingers slowly inching towards your entrance that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to kiss her once again, trying to drown out your rather loud moans yet your efforts failed.

"Such a good girl, you're taking me so well..." CC praised you, smiling against your lips, "You're so pretty like this, baby. All just for me." She inserted all three fingers inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way possible.

"F-fuck! CC, please," you moaned, looking up at her as she looked right at you back, covering your mouth with only your palm. Getting caught having sex with your girlfriend at night in a literal college dorm wasn't in your applications at all.

CC, however, seemed unfazed as she panted, rolling and curling her fingers inside of your warm heat, always finding that one spot that had you seeing stars. "Are you close?" she asked, speeding up her pace.

You could only nod frantically in response, feeling a knot tightening in your stomach, "Yes, yeah, I'm close," you gasped, your body almost trembling in pleasure.

"You know, Clarissa is only a dorm away from us." She took hold of your wrists and held them high above your head, her grip still soft to touch, like she was still trying to take care of you. "You're going to scream my name. Not 'baby', not 'love', not Clarissa or whatever her name is. Not anyone."

Your eyes widened in surprise, your mouth opening to protest, but you were cut off before you could speak.

"I want everybody to hear that you're mine, especially her." She continued, her fingers pushing deep into you as you arched your back, "I want her to know how good I'm fucking you, how well you're taking every inch of me. Tell them what a good girl you are for me."

In your clouded haze, you desperately nodded with half-lidded eyes that stared back at her, your mouth half opened as she kept eliciting pathetic moans and whines from your lips.

"M' gonna cum, baby… CC, please," you whimpered, your voice strained and coming out in choked sobs, feeling the knot tightening deep inside of you. CC relentlessly pushed you closer to the edge, your back arching as she whispered praises after praises.

She released your arms from her grasp and you immediately wrap them around her neck, pulling her impossibly close to your body, her fingers thrusting deeper inside of your pussy while her thumb traced your clit in circles.

"Don't hold it, y/n. Cum for me, pretty girl, it's alright," she whispered as you brought her close to your neck, pressing one last kiss to your skin, satisfying everything inside of you with one last thrust.

You cum almost immediately after, "CC! F-fuck!" you moaned, making sure everyone can hear you. Your walls clenched around her fingers all while she still tried to pump them in and out of you, her hand slick with your cum that went nowhere but down her palm.

You wrap your legs around her waist, seeking support in her body as your own trembled in pleasure, your back arching as you gradually went down from your high, "M' all yours, CC! S-shit, you're fucking me so well!" you gasped, your words coming out in ragged breaths as you were brought to a back to back orgasm.

While you were coming down from your high, CC was already showering you with kisses all over your body, whispering sweet nothings, words of praises and adoration that automatically flowed on instinct from her lips, "I'm right here, y/n. God, you're so so so perfect."

When she felt your body begin to relax, going limp on CC, she gently withdrew from you, reaching out for a nearby stand to grab a pair of tissues. She wiped her fingers clean and gently cleaned the beads of sweat that formed on your forehead.

"You did so well, baby," she murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I'm so proud of you, pretty girl. I love you so much."

CC slid her arms under your body, lifting you up and placing you against the headboard, taking note of how your eyes were shut close and your breaths were slightly labored. "Y/n? Y/n, are you alright? Was I too much?"

You chuckled softly, opening your eyes to meet her gaze as she settled into your lap, her arms wrapping around you protectively. Like you'd run away and never return into her hold. Her eyes were too pretty, too full with love and care for you, almost as if you already died and went to heaven.

"You were too soft, actually." you laughed, leaning in to kiss her, tasting her natural lipgloss with the mix of your juices; an odd taste you'd say. "Is that what jealousy gets to CC Walker?"

"Definitely not," she replied almost immediately. "But seeing you with her makes me feel like I am. I needed to feel close to you, for you to feel close to me…" Her voice trailed off, her words faltering. She was always the one who talked alot about her feelings, yet it always seemed so distant and struggled.

"Well, you're not really mine mine since, of course, you don't really belong to anybody. Hell, even I don't own you and no one should think that! But you know I just—"

You reached up to cup her cheek as you cut her off, your thumb brushing lightly against her skin, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

"Oh, you know a girl batting her eyes at me won't change the way I feel about you. That's completely ridiculous," you reassured her. "You're always going to be my top 1. You have my birthday on your jersey for fuck sakes, who couldn't say no to that?"

Her lips curved into a smile, a relief expression is what you'd assume. "Guess you've brought up a solid argument," she laughed, leaning into your touch. "I'll run you a bath, okay?"

"I'll come with," you were already trying to stand up until CC pushed you back down.

"As... a trophy winner of an international soccer team, I suggest you lie back down. Maybe watch a couple of movies or two and let me do the taking care part." She leaned on your forehead and walked to the shower, already gathering your clothes and towel.

You sat up from the bed, a stupid smile across your face as you watched this girl do everything for you. Oh, the way she was so sweet for you was unbelievable. "Don't you need a degree for me to believe you?"

"Yeah!" She yelled across the room, "But I am your girlfriend and you believed me when I said I almost quit soccer because of a shoulder injury when in actuality it was my mom. So." She shrugged, already entering the shower and turning on the faucet before returning back to you.

"You're simply awful." You smiled as you watch her come back with a water and her laptop. "I love you." You say as you kiss her forehead.

"I love you too. So much." She smiled, "but one thing." She sat beside you, rising up a blanket to cover your naked body as she waited for the bathtub to fill. "You have to promise me that you'll keep your eyes on me. And me only."

"Still on Clarissa?"

"Unfortunately so."

You chuckle. "Then, I promise on my life that I'll keep my eyes only for CC Walker. And CC Walker only."

"Forever?"

"Forever and Always."

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

a/n: this is longer than i anticipated it to be

#emma myers x reader #emma myers x y/n #emma myers x yn #emma myers x you #cc walker x you #cc walker x reader #cc walker x yn #family switch #emma myers

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bella-rose29 · 5 months

Text

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 6

Christmas Day, and the final day (supposedly)

Word count: 4.8k (damn that's more than I originally intended to write for this part)

Warnings: unrealistic depictions of winter in Britain (it snows a lot), swearing, Lockwood gets a hug from reader's mum and can't cope, lockwood's lack of sleep is brought up, reader has Feelings and can't cope, Stephanie and Linda are bitches again and get an awful gift for reader, body image issues, lockwood shouts at Steph, mentions of Lockwood's family (and them being dead), Stephanie (she's a warning all on her own tbh), cliffhanger of an ending

the picture doesn't really match the vibes but it's one of the few where he's not wearing a suit 🤡 (but also look how babygirl he looks)

(image credit to lavenderghostco on pinterest)

series master list

Lockwood hadn't slept.

Instead he had spent the night trying to get Y/n to hear him through the locked bathroom door, but then when he'd heard quiet music playing and realised that she'd taken her walkman with her and was sleeping in there he had given up, shifting to lean his back against the door and pull his knees up to his chest.

Then he had used the rest of the night to go over what had been said between the two of them, and how horribly wrong it had all gone.

Why couldn't she have waited another two seconds for him to finish talking?

And why couldn't he figure out how to properly apologise to her?

When the sun had finally risen and slightly blinded Lockwood as it streamed in through the curtains that hadn't been properly closed the night before, he stood up, shaking out his stiff limbs and stretching. He got changed into some fresh, more comfortable clothes, having stayed in his suit from the day before all night, and headed downstairs to make a cup of tea.

"Oh, hello Anthony!" Emma said when he walked in to the kitchen. "Are you... alright?" She was frowning, likely because the dark bags under his eyes were far more prominent from the severe lack of sleep.

"Yes, I'm alright thank you. Just didn't sleep too well last night." He smiled at her.

"Oh dear," Emma replied, putting the kettle on. "Is Y/n alright?"

"She's fine. She did sleep in the bathroom though because she felt a bit sick, but she was out like a light right away." An easy lie to tell about the situation they had found themselves in, and Emma was too distracted making tea to detect any falsehoods.

"As long as the two of you are okay now then that's all that matters. Here's a mug for you, love."

"Thank you." It was strange how easily he got used to being part of this family. He was moving around the kitchen with Emma as though they had been doing it their whole lives, and he suddenly felt a pang of pain as he remembered doing the same things with his own family. Lockwood stopped, staring down into his tea that was now swirling around in the mug and blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.

"Anthony? What is it, dear?"

"It's nothing," he said, wiping at his face quickly and offering up a smile. Emma saw through it, though, and placed a hand on his arm. A similar scene flashed through his mind from last night, and his chest ached even more at the memory of Y/n instinctively comforting him and how he had likely ruined any chance of that happening again.

"Aw, love. I know we don't really... know each other that well, but if you ever want to talk to me about anything you know that you can, right?"

"Yeah, thank you, Emma," he replied. For some reason he felt the need to step forward and wrap his arms around her, but after a few seconds of Emma standing still he awkwardly pulled back, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "S-sorry. I don't know-" he was cut off by her hugging him just as tightly as she had Y/n when they first got to the house, and although he couldn't breathe too well he felt... at home.

"Never apologise, love," she mumbled into his hair, squeezing tightly. "Like I said, if you ever need me, you let me know." she stepped back then to hold him by the arms and look him in the eyes. Lockwood nodded, suddenly feeling five years old again, and dried his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Alright?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Now, you take this up to Y/n and make sure she's somewhat dressed and downstairs, because I think everyone else is starting to get up now and we'll do presents in a bit."

Lockwood took the mug and picked up his own tea, heading out the room after a quick thanks to Emma. A thought struck him as he carefully carried the mugs upstairs, and he really hoped that Y/n had presents because otherwise they would be in deep shit.

~~~

"Y/n?" Lockwood's voice tentatively called out. She huffed from where she laid in the bathtub wrapped up in blankets. What did he want? "Y/n? I've... I've got tea for you out here. I'm just gonna leave it on the bedside table for you. Uh, your mum also said that we're gonna do presents and stuff in a bit so... come down when you're ready I guess." He paused for a moment, then said "Do you... do you have presents? Because I didn't actually get anything and now I'm starting to feel bad because your parents are actually really nice and so are your siblings and-"

"Lockwood! Shut up! I got presents, alright?!" She shouted, getting out of the bath. She bundled up the duvet and pillow and opened the door to a slightly dishevelled Lockwood, pushing past him to chuck the blankets on the bed and grab some clean clothes from the suitcase. He had clearly been running his hand through his hair from the way it was sticking up at funny angles, and the bags under his eyes were far more prominent. She frowned, wondering if he'd had any sleep at all last night.

"Alright, I uh... I'll just..." he walked into the bathroom, everything about his movements more unsure and nervous than Y/n had ever seen him.

She changed into the clothes she had picked up, and only realised once the jumper was pulled over her head that it wasn't her jumper she had on.

It was Lockwood's.

She didn't have time to change before he unlocked the bathroom door and came back into the bedroom, stopping short in his tracks when he looked up and saw her stood in the middle of the room in his jumper. "I- This wasn't deliberate."

"I know," he said quietly, and she almost scoffed when he looked at her with sadness in his eyes. What right did he have to look that way when he had said those words last night?

"You're right. I won't ever like you in the same way as the others."

They had played over and over as she tried to get to sleep, wondering how he had managed to sink to an even lower depth in causing her pain than he had before.

"Here," she said when the silence grew uncomfortable, bending down to grab the group of wrapped gifts at the bottom of the case and handing a few to Lockwood. "We should head down I suppose."

"Don't forget your tea. I'll uh- I'll see you down there," he offered up a small smile as he left.

As soon as the door shut behind him she heaved a sigh, eyeing the tea on the bedside table sat right where Lockwood had said it would be. There was no point in letting it get cold, so she waited until the mug had been drained before leaving and going downstairs.

~~~

The tea had been a good way to start preparing herself for Christmas Day with her family, but on seeing Lockwood again (despite it only having been about five minutes) she could feel herself drowning at the prospect of having to fake this relationship for another few hours. At least it was only a few hours, since they were catching the only train running on Christmas Day that afternoon.

"And the last one for you, Y/n! Sorry, Anthony, you've only got a couple because we had no idea what you wanted and only found out you were coming a few days ago!"

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything at all, Emma, really," he beamed, and Y/n wondered how he could act so well. He had always had a flair for the dramatic, leaping at the chance to put on an accent for reconnaissance for a case, or coming up with ridiculously fabricated tales of fights with Visitors to boast to Kipps, but that wasn't anything compared to hiding the fact that he had argued with the daughter of the woman he was smiling at, and was pretending to date her and love her regardless.

"I won't ever like you in the same way."

That had hurt the most, and Y/n had spent much of her time awake attempting to figure out why. It wasn't the entire sentence about Lockwood not liking her in the same way as Lucy, George, and Holly, as that hadn't been the part that had been on repeat. No, for some reason it had been his admission that his feelings wouldn't change from the hatred they shared that made her want to rip her heart out every time she saw his smile.

"Nonsense!" her mother said as she sat back in her seat. "Alright everyone, get stuck in!"

The next ten minutes were a frenzy of paper being ripped into and presents being opened, and Lockwood and Y/n were curled up on the loveseat like they had on the first day quietly working their way through their piles. At least they had an excuse for not talking to each other, since their presents were taking up the majority of their attention.

At least they ought to have been.

One of Lockwood's arms was around her waist, hand resting lightly on her thigh while he watched her unwrap her remaining gifts. He had long since finished, having thanked Emma profusely for the box of chocolates and ten pound note that he'd been given. Y/n was finding it difficult to concentrate with Lockwood's warmth behind her, and he was doing that thing where he stroked his fingers over her skin. His hand had moved from her thigh to her stomach, fingers drifting under the fabric of the jumper she had accidentally stolen from him and tracing patterns absentmindedly. It seemed to be something that happened any time they were in this sort of position, and she was frustrated at how much she enjoyed it.

"You alright?" he whispered.

"Yep." She didn't look back at him, instead focusing on the plain envelope she now held in her hands and frowning at it.

"Oh!" Stephanie cried out, and Y/n had forgotten just how annoying her voice was since they had barely interacted the day before. "That's from us! It's... well. Why don't you open it up?" If the smirk on Stephanie and Linda's faces were anything to go by, it wouldn't be Y/n's favourite gift she received this year.

"What is it?" Lockwood asked from behind her, peering over her shoulder at the piece of card that had been inside. "A coupon or a gift card or something?"

"Gym membership, Lockwood. They got me a gym membership." Dammit, her voice was shaking and her eyes were prickling with unshed tears, and worst of all she knew that Lockwood could tell. She hated that she leaned ever so slightly further into his body. She hated that when he brought his free hand around her to properly wrap her in a hug she was painfully aware of Stephanie and Linda watching every movement, and could feel their judgement of her body.

Then she hated that she felt safe and protected in Lockwood's embrace, like nothing could hurt her as long as he was holding her.

There was nothing wrong with how she looked, and it wasn't her fault that Stephanie was a size 2 (probably, Y/n had never bothered to ask) and liked to gloat about it frequently, but the cut ran deep and had done for years. When Y/n stood up and left much like she had on the first day, she wasn't surprised to see the triumphant look on her cousin's face.

~~~

Lockwood was fuming, but this time he couldn't set anything on fire.

To be fair, he hadn't been allowed to set anything on fire the previous times it had happened, and multiple of those accounts of arson were Lucy's fault, not his, but he still wanted to burn something.

How dare they give a fucking gym membership as a Christmas present?! What did they think they would achieve in doing so?! Stephanie and Linda clearly looked proud of themselves, and the sight of their faces made Lockwood feel sick when he remembered how Y/n's body had tensed up and curled into him more at the piece of card in the envelope.

Taking his chance after Y/n left the room, Lockwood stood up, then headed over to Stephanie. "Can we talk?" he asked, although the tone he used made it clear that he wouldn't be taking no for an answer. He led her out into the hallway, then into the kitchen for good measure, and his remaining restraint snapped with the sound of the door closing. "Are you out of your mind?" He hadn't shouted, instead keeping his voice as calm as he could, but he knew that his anger was barely contained behind his gritted teeth.

"I don't know what you mean," Stephanie simpered, and Lockwood took a step closer to her.

"A gym membership?!"

Steph shrugged. "She needs it. She's really let herself go the last-"

"No, she hasn't. And I would fucking know, because I live with her. She is perfect the way she is, alright? And you have no right - absolutely none - to give her that sort of thing as a Christmas present. It really just proves that you have no idea who she is, and that you're a fucking terrible person."

"Oh, like you're so honourable!" she spat.

"What's going on?" Emma's voice sounded, and the kitchen door opened to show the rest of Y/n's family that were still in the house. "Why is there shouting?"

"Y/n's little boyfriend here is accusing me of not knowing my own cousin!"

"Because you don't!"

"And you know more about her than me, do you?!"

"It looks like it, yes!"

"Everything was so much better before you turned up, do you know that? Why don't you scurry back to whatever shithole you and your parents live in and we'll carry on with our lives, yeah?" Lockwood flinched.

"Stephanie! Linda, please, can't you do something?!" Emma pleaded. She sent a quiet apology to Lockwood, looking distressed at how quickly Christmas Day had fallen into arguments.

"She's right, Emma. If he wasn't here then everything would be right again. Why don't we keep Y/n here for a few more days, and he can go back to his sad little life with his parents." He flinched again, barely having time to compose himself before Linda was smiling sweetly at him.

"I would, Linda, but I am not leaving my girlfriend here with you."

"Well," Stephanie started. "Why don't you invite your family up here then? I'm sure we'd all love to meet the people that raised such a... lovely... person!"

"Once again, I would," Lockwood said, as nonchalantly as he could, "but I very much doubt that you'd find much to talk to them about."

"Are they deaf or something?" Lockwood saw Y/n through her brothers' bodies, and she was trying to push past them to join him in the kitchen.

"Something like that," he smiled, hoping they couldn't see the sadness in it. Technically his family was deaf, since they were unable to hear anything on account of the fact that they were dead. Y/n stumbled forward, having finally been let through, and she righted herself and walked over to where Lockwood was stood.

"You alright?" she asked, her voice quiet so that only he could hear. "Just heard them mention your family and stuff, and Steph can be really mean about literally everything and I didn't want you to be on your own for that."

"Oh." He blinked in surprise. He hadn't thought that she would care too much since she'd ignored him and hated him thoroughly since last night. "I'm alright; I can deal with it, don't worry." His smile was soft, and for a brief moment he thought he might be breaking through to the Y/n he had come to know over the past two days before everything went wrong, but then the blinds were snapped shut and he was blocked out again.

~~~

Lunch was interesting.

Emma and Ben had slaved for hours to get everything ready, having left the morning celebrations at various points to put things in the ovens, or chop things, or do anything that was needed, and mid-afternoon their hard work was served up on huge plates to the family.

"Thank you, this looks incredible," Lockwood said, and Emma grinned.

"You're very welcome, Anthony!" She sat down in her seat, making sure everybody had food on their plates before taking up her cracker. Y/n's grandparents needed her brothers talking directly into their ears to explain what was happening over the noise of everyone else, and it took a full five minutes to get everybody with crackers in hand and arms crossed over before they could be pulled.

Hats were put on, and pictures taken on the family camera (and then Y/n asked Will to take some on her personal camera too), and finally they could start eating. People read out their jokes and trivia, and while the laughter of various family members was loud, Y/n couldn't help but feel like it was all muffled and distant. She was underwater again, her ears filled with water as she tried swimming up to the surface, but the weight of her cousin's gaze was dragging her down into the depths again.

Then a hand was on her arm, gentle but enough of a pressure that she was being pulled upwards, and Lockwood's voice was in her ear.

"Hey, are you alright? You zoned out for a minute there and I had to rescue your potato from going off the side of your plate."

Sure enough, her fork was pushing the contents of her plate closer to the edge, and she quickly let go of her cutlery to stop it. The knife and fork landed with a clatter, and while conversation didn't stop, it did die down as people looked in her direction. "I'm fine," she replied, knowing she was the opposite. Lockwood appeared to know too, because he was still frowning.

"Are you su-"

"Yes," she said harshly, and he flinched back.

"Okay, sorry." He turned back to his own food, and they didn't speak for most of the rest of the meal.

~~~

"Book!"

"Play?"

"It's a book, you idiot!"

"John, don't call Sam an idiot!"

"Mum, you can't talk when doing a charade," Will said, and he received a glare in response.

"How do you reckon the others are getting on with their holidays?" Y/n asked, and Lockwood was surprised at her question.

"I imagine they're all having wonderful times," he replied, revelling in the smile that graced Y/n's face. It was a shame that the cause of the smile wasn't him, but he only had himself to blame for that.

"That's good. At least most of the company is enjoying Christmas."

Somewhere in the house, a phone started ringing. Ben got up to answer.

"I'm enjoying it," Lockwood said, and Y/n swivelled in her seat a little to look at him. "Besides the obvious, of course."

"Me?"

"No," he huffed. "Why do you keep thinking that you're the last person I want to spend Christmas with?"

"Because you literally said that you wouldn't enjoy a second of it?"

"Well that was a lie, wasn't it? Honestly, do you not remember anything I told you last night about me having a nice time here instead of the usual shitty Christmases since I was six?" That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Y/n froze up and stopped smiling.

"I remember last night, yeah," she mumbled, turning her back to him again. Shit.

"Thinking about it," he said, attempting to salvage the situation, "I haven't seen any baby photos of you yet."

"Be my guest." Her tone was bland, and Lockwood started internally cursing himself for bringing up the night before.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for what I said, alright? I was a dick and I should have explained myself better. Would you-"

"THE BIBLE! IT'S THE BIBLE!"

"YES!"

"WHAT?! THE BIBLE? THAT'S A CHARADE?!"

"Would you hear me out? Please? When we get a moment later," he asked, trying to mask the amount of desperation in his voice.

"You better have a good excuse, Anthony, because you really hurt me, and if you fuck up again I'm leaving."

"Leaving? What, like leaving the house?"

"Leaving the company."

Lockwood thought his heart might give out. "Wh- wha- what do you mean, leave the company?"

"I can't keep doing this, okay? I can't get up every morning just to be verbally abused by you all the time. It's not healthy for me, at all. I have to look out for myself, alright?"

"...Right. Yeah, no, that's... that makes sense." He was still reeling from her confession, so when Y/n's grandmother Jean tapped him on the shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin. Y/n hadn't noticed, instead joining in with the ongoing game of charades.

"Why don't you take this, dear," she said, giving him a wink and handing over a sprig of some sort of plant.

"Uh... thank you?"

"Mistletoe. You know, it was originally a sign of peace, and if people met underneath it then they had to stop fighting, no matter what. Sounds like you two might need it," she smiled, but unlike Stephanie or Linda there was only love behind it. Lockwood stared down at the plant he held in his hand, but when he went to thank Jean for the gift she had already gone back to whatever conversation she was having with Tom, her previous chat long forgotten.

"I've got some news," Y/n's father Ben exclaimed as he walked back into the room, and everybody turned to look at him.

"What is it? Why do you sound so worried?"

"Nobody is going to be able to travel anywhere for about a week. I just got a phone call from Ted at the office." Lockwood felt Y/n tense beside him, and he tried not to do the same.

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"Snow warning. Weather officials are saying that a snow storm is going to hit us today and we'll all be snowed in. All trains are cancelled for the next week, and then after that it's unclear."

"What? So we're stuck here for another week?" Y/n asked, and Lockwood heard the panic creeping into her voice. This wasn't good at all, especially since he and Y/n now had to continue faking it for an extra seven days when they were back to hating each other. He needed to fix things and fast, or this holiday would continue to derail and end in flames.

"Sorry, love. I know you wanted to get back before the New Year."

"Yeah," she whispered, looking down at the ground. "Shit."

~~~

"Can we... can we talk?" Lockwood asked once they had a moment to breathe. After the news that they would be here for another week Y/n had excused herself and headed upstairs, and Lockwood had apparently followed.

"What is there to talk about, Lockwood?"

"Well don't we need to rethink? Originally we were only here for three days, and that was manageable. Now we're here for an extra week minimum? I don't know, call me crazy but I really do think we need to figure out how we're going to do this." He was running his hand through his hair again (what was in his other one, was that mistletoe?), but he stopped when Y/n looked him dead in the eyes and answered him.

"You're crazy." She didn't even know why he had the plant, unless he was planning on kissing her again and then ripping her heart out afterwards. Y/n went over to the windows to pull open the blinds the rest of the way to ignore the memory of his mouth on hers. They hadn't been properly closed the night before, and with how the sun rose directly through the windows Lockwood had probably been blinded by it that morning and woken up. He looked far too sleep deprived for him to have woken up at half seven in the morning though.

"Ok, well at the very least can we talk about last night?"

Y/n had stopped by the windows, staring out at the landscape and ignoring Lockwood's question.

"Y/n?"

"Holy shit." Where normally the view was the lake nearby and the forest in the distance, rolling fields spreading out in the foreground, now it had been coated in a blanket of white as far as the eye could see.

"What is it?"

"Just... just come and look." He did, hesitantly coming over to stand beside her and drawing in a breath at the landscape.

"Holy shit."

"That's what I said. Fuck. I was hoping it wouldn't be that bad and we could still find a way to get home."

"Yeah, we're not going anywhere in this. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" she frowned, turning her head to look at him. "You're not the snow god who deliberately penned us in my family home for an extra week."

"No, I'm not." Lockwood went quiet, staring out the window but not actually seeing anything, his eyes unfocused as he got wrapped up in his head. "Can we talk about last night? Please?" Y/n looked out the window again.

"What for? I think you said everything I needed to hear."

"I didn't, though. You didn't let me finish saying what I was going to say before you went and shut yourself in the bathroom." His tone was desperate, and Y/n half thought he might start getting on his knees and begging. A memory came back to her of her doing the same thing only a few days ago when she begged him to come with her on this mad venture. He'd been laughing then.

"Well I don't know that I want to know what I missed."

"I was going to say that I won't ever like you in the same way as the others, because I can't. I don't think I realised that until it was too late, but I can't like you in the same way I like George, or Lucy, or Holly, because I think that I'm-"

"Right!" Stephanie shouted, shoving open the door. She stopped short at the sight of Y/n and Lockwood stood so close together, and then again at the pain on Lockwood's face. Y/n hadn't realised that as Lockwood had been talking, he had been inching closer in his attempt to get her to listen to him. They were practically touching now, and Stephanie glanced between them both until they stepped back a little. "You two," she said, jabbing a finger in their direction once she'd remembered what she was there for, "have ruined my Christmas, I hope you know that!" Y/n shared a look with Lockwood. "So watch out, alright? Because I'm coming for you both!" she shrieked, and slammed the door on her way out.

Y/n and Lockwood stood staring at the door for a while before Lockwood spoke up. "Did she seem okay to you?"

"I think she's having some sort of breakdown."

"I thought so too."

"Sort of looked like a banshee or something."

"Especially with the hair all crazy like that, did you see?"

"She'll definitely have a breakdown when she sees that birds are nesting in it, for sure." It felt easy all of a sudden, and conversing with Lockwood wasn't as hard as it had been a couple of hours ago. There was hope, she realised. Hope that he really did have something nice to say. He wouldn't have looked quite so ridiculously desperate for her attention otherwise. She ignored the way that butterflies started fluttering in her stomach at the thought of Lockwood craving her attention so badly. Before this whole ordeal she would have simply felt smug about having the upper hand.

"I really didn't mean it in a hurtful way, Y/n. Although I can see how it came across like that."

"Well what did you mean, Lockwood? Because you did hurt me. And now we're fucking snowed in for a week longer than we planned and Steph is on a rampage. And when Steph is on a rampage she will absolutely have what it takes to uncover this whole fake relationship thing, despite having, like, zero brain cells the rest of the time."

He sighed, clenching his jaw in frustration. "I can't feel the same way because I'm pretty sure I've-" he paused, then took a breath. Why was he taking so long to say something that could make their entire situation easier? He looked uncertain again, and Y/n started feeling nervous.

Lockwood was never uncertain. He was Anthony bloody Lockwood.

Then when he spoke, she realised why.

part 7

Tag list (there are so many people that if I forgot to add you then please let me know and I'll do that right away!): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

#i'm evil for this ending i'm sorry #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas #deck the halls (and not your partner)

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Dean come up with a not so subtle way of addressing their relationship status. However, the more she thinks about it, the more serious her relationship with Dean seems to be and with that comes a newfound trust. Meanwhile, the pair have a busy Sunday when they have to deal with not only their bodyguards but meeting parents for the first time too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 9,800ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping, smut

A/N: Hoo boy this part is a lot. I love all of these guys so much. Please enjoy!

_________

Reader POV

“You know you don’t have to tell anyone shit,” said Emma, your new head of PR. You worked on your mascara, Emma leaned against the makeup counter. “You and Dean are entitled to your privacy.”

“I know,” you said, blinking your eyes a few times, checking your teeth for lipstick. “It’s why I always wanted you to be my PR manager. You won’t fuck me over.”

“Bold statement from someone who knows better than to trust anyone in this business.” You straightened up, Emma looking you over.

“I trust Eric and he trusts you,” you said, stepping closer in your heeled booties. “I don’t think his little sister’s going to stab me in the back after all.”

“He told you,” she said, her chin tilt slightly annoyed. You shook your head with a smile. “How’d you know then? I’ve never used my maiden name professionally.”

“Same nose and eyes. The fact your twins are Eliot and Emmet and he has twin nephews by those names. Y’all really love the ‘E’ names in your family, don’t you?” She looked impressed, nodding her head.

“Eric said you’re smart. Tough too.” She stepped aside when you motioned for you to walk. “It’s a pretty good idea to present you’re dating on your terms but again, you don’t have to do it. You can just…be.”

“Yeah but if we address it head on, at least we can stop whatever fake rumors get put out there. The world doesn’t get to know every little thing about us but Dean and I both feel like this is the best way forward. I mean, we want to stay private but we’re okay with this. We don’t want to be forced to hide.”

“Alright,” she said, stopping with you by a rack of clothes. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Shoot,” you said, running your finger through the different options, one catching your eye.

“You love him?” Your eyes darted to hers, Emma watching carefully. “The way you two looked at each other this morning when we came up with this plan…those kinds of looks are dangerous.”

“...We’re dating is all. It’s only been three weeks,” you said, picking up a hangar, ignoring her stare.

“You’ve never publicly dated and never gone on more than a few private blind dates in all the time my brother’s worked for you. And the supposed playboy of the NFL comes along and you two commitmentphobes are head over heels?”

“Your point?” you asked with a sigh. “What, you want to plan the wedding already?”

“Some celebrities get married for money. Some for careers and some for image. And the public knows it. If you go out there tonight wearing that, the public will fucking fawn over you and Dean because you’re the real deal. Just be prepared for the long term because doing this might be a decision that will follow you the rest of your life.”

“He’s not a playboy,” you said absently, Emma smiling softly. “He was just…in pain.”

“Then keep loving him and we’ll figure out the craziness together,” she said, nodding at the piece of clothing in your hands. “That’s cute. It’ll drive him nuts.”

“I never said I loved him,” you said as her phone started to ring.

“Oh, sweetie. Your face said it all,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll let you get ready.”

You swallowed when she left the dressing room. Three weeks ago, Dean Winchester was a playboy asking for your number in a McDonald’s at midnight. And now…

You ran a hand over your stomach, butterflies filling it.

“Hey,” said Eric, knocking once on the door and poking his head inside. “You’re supposed to be on stage to start the encore in thirty seconds.”

You shook your head and threw the shirt on, Eric biting back a smirk. “Oh shut up.”

“I said nothing,” he grinned, helping you fix your hair where it got stuck. “I told Emma you knew what you were doing with this.”

“Well your sister had to come and drop a bomb that I apparently love Dean on me,” you said, fixing your ponytail, Eric adjusting the clip in the back like he had a million times on tour. “Eric! Say something about how ridiculous that is.”

“You are kind of in love with him. Good news, I think the kid’s in love with you too,” he winked. You stared up at him, Eric chuckling. “Oh, a handsome sweet man loves you. What an awful life you live, kiddo.”

“He does not love me and I’d appreciate if you don’t bring up that word around him.” You smoothed out your outfit, Eric still laughing. “I don’t…that word him at the current moment.”

“Yeah you do. Otherwise you would ignore the media and press until you did know.” You rolled your eyes at him, Eric patting you on the butt. “Go sing to your heart’s content little miss not in love.”

“Asshole,” you said, walking ahead of him towards the end of the makeshift hallway. You breathed heavy at the end, Eric rubbing your shoulders. “I do like him.”

“He brings you to life,” he whispered in your ear.

“Just…don’t say anything. Not until we have that conversation ourselves,” you said.

“Of course,” he said. “Three more songs and then you’ve got some chicken nuggies waiting for you.”

You took a few deep breaths before you opened the door and jogged up some crew stairs, appearing in the wings of the stage where VIP’s got to view the show.

And tonight that meant Dean and his friends. You saw some of their eyes go wide before you grabbed your cloak off the rack and threw up the hood, concealing you away.

“Is she wearing…” you heard Benny say as you stopped in front of Dean, giving him a quick kiss.

“Break a leg, sweetheart,” he whispered as you were handed a mic. “Have fun.”

“I’ll see you in twenty,” you said before walking out on stage, a ravenous applause deafening you for a moment. You took your mark in center stage, the music for Fairytale starting up. It was one of those songs that started slow and ramped up. Every night on tour you got to have fun with it. The outfits were insane. Normally they were all fairytale themed and the crowd was always excited to see what theme you went for when your dancers would yank the cloak off you in the second chorus.

You swore you’d never heard a stadium so loud as when the cloak fell away and they saw you were wearing Dean’s NFL jersey. Well, almost his jersey. This one had been modified to add some lace and a few sparkles but it was subtle. You caught Dean smiling out of the corner of your eye and winked at him. He’d been all for the plan of your indirect way of addressing the photos from last night.

It told people enough but also meant you and Dean didn’t have to specially come out and say you were dating. The second you did that, they’d never stop wanting more and more from your private lives. And while you didn’t like to admit it, Eric and Emma had a point.

Dean calmed a part of you that hadn’t known peace in a very long time. It just felt…easy.

Two and a half songs later you took a bow and jogged off stage, Dean waiting with open arms.

“You’re amazing,” he said, picking you straight up in a hug. “You make that look like a walk in the park.”

“Years of practice,” you said, Dean setting you down. “I can’t wait to come to your guys game tomorrow.”

“Pretty sure the whole country can’t wait either,” joked Michael. “Speaking of which we better get out of here, getting pretty late.”

“Later guys,” said Dean, joining you as you went downstairs again to your dressing room, Eric and Sloane on your tail along with some other security.

Exactly forty two minutes later you were home with Dean, his strong arms throwing you over his shoulder. “Dean I just ate!”

“Well now I want my dessert,” he laughed, rushing upstairs with you, gently dropping you on your bed. You both were giggling, Dean leaning over you as he pushed hair out of your face. “Seeing you in my jersey was hot in way you don’t even know.”

“I can imagine. Let me wash up quick,” you said, rolling out from under him. He hummed and laid back on the bed while you ducked into the bathroom and made a straight shot for the closet. Less than two minutes later you exited, Dean relaxing with his eyes closed.

You cleared your throat, Dean lifting his head as he leaned against his elbows. He froze half-way up though, eyes wide.

“You said you liked me in your jersey.” You tugged on the bottom hem of the jersey to bring it down, just barely covering yourself. “What if I was wearing only your jersey?”

“Are you-”

“Uh huh,” you said, stepping forward, letting the material rise up and show him your completely bare bottom half. You crawled up on the bed, straddling his thighs as Dean swallowed roughly. “I was always afraid of what would happen once the world knew I was dating someone. That’d it’d be too much or the person would betray me.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion you no longer feel that way?” asked Dean. You nodded, taking his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“We’re not going to screw each other. I like the fact we can go do things out together now,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips. Your eyes closed softly, Dean’s thumb wiping over your bottom lip. “You don’t want anything from me. That feels so damn good, Dean, you don’t even know.”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” he said, your eyes peeling open as he moved his hand with yours to your cheek. “I do want something.”

Your heart started to race as he sat up, his free hand wrapping around your back, holding you flush to him. He smirked when he felt your chest thumping away, his hand squeezing yours.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious what I want, princess?” he murmured, practically crushing your body against his. “I told you from the start. I want you.”

You would have melted into a puddle on the floor if not for his arm around you. He kissed you sweetly, slowly, taking all the time in the world to enjoy this.

“Someday,” he mumbled, giving you a chance to cup his cheeks, Dean absently turning into the touch.

“Someday what?” you whispered, Dean smiling again.

“Someday you’ll fall in love with me too,” he breathed out, kissing you gently. He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “I’ve been a sucker for you for over a decade. I get to say it. Just don’t freak on me, Y/N. I can wait-”

“Someday,” you said, Dean nodding. “Someday soon.”

“Someday soon,” he repeated, dipping his lips to the hollow of your neck. You didn’t like the tone though and grasped his chin, bring his head up. Sad green eyes met yours, a pain behind them you hadn’t seen before. “It’s been three weeks. I know you can’t-”

“If it wasn’t you, I wouldn’t have let you in this bed.” You murmured. “If you can know, I can know too and I know that you are the first person I’ve let myself love in a very long time. God Dean, you don’t know how bad it was. How fucking alone I was. Surrounded by people all the time but so goddamn lonely.”

He shushed you, hugging you tight. “We don’t have to be lonely anymore, sweetheart. We can…we can just be together.”

You nodded, arms wrapped around his broad body, head buried in the crook of his neck.

“Here you thought this was going to be a sexy conversation,” he chuckled. You laughed softly, Dean’s lips pressing against the top of your head.

“I like all of our conversations,” you murmured, inhaling his musky cologne. You enjoyed the scent, his warm body soft as it held you.

“You got to be tired,” he whispered, running a hand down your back. “We should get you to sleep.”

“Dean.” You tilted your head up, Dean’s eyebrows raising so slightly you almost missed it. You nodded, taking his hand and putting it against your chest. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

He pressed a hungry kiss to your mouth, tongue playfully devouring you, a hungry beast finally uncaged within him. You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, pulling hard on the material. He got the message, breaking free to yank it off one handed, giving you space to undo his belt.

“Do you have a condom?” he breathed, his cock already straining to get out of the confines of his pants.

“In the nightstand if you want. I have an IUD,” you said, tugging on his jeans, Dean toppling back on the covers. You put your hands on his hips, Dean giving you a reassuring smile. You’d been playing the past few weeks, teasing each other with hands and mouths. Dean always guided you though, focused on your pleasure, was so slow and gentle the first time you went down on him.

You had no doubt that tonight though he’d let you run things.

“Do you want a condom?” you asked, taking his boxer briefs off, momentarily crawling off the bed.

“I’ve never not used one.” You stood up, reaching for the drawer when he was suddenly sat up, long fingers wrapped around your wrist. You stared at each other, Dean pulling you close, sliding his hands upwards and pulling the jersey off.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“I’m clean. A little fun fact about myself? I haven’t gotten laid since last winter.” You blinked at him, lips parting. “I know. All the dates, the girlfriends. Hooking up lost it’s appeal a while ago.”

He settled his hands on your hips, licking his lips as he eyed you up and down properly for the first time.

“Think my brain caught up to the fact I always belonged to someone else.” You closed your eyes, straddling his lap. Large hands splayed against your bare back, Dean shaking your hair loose from your bun. He buried his nose in the strands, inhaling deeply. “I really convinced you to give the playboy all the pieces of you so quickly. Gotta say I’m a little surprised.”

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, hands sliding from his shoulders, down his chest, down his stomach, tracing every inch of his muscled body.

“Because I annoyed you into hanging out with me?” he chuckled. You shook your head, finding his chin, grasping it lightly until your eyes locked.

“Because you’re my best friend. Because I know you would never pressure me for anything, never ask for anything from me but my friendship in return.” You touched your forehead to his, Dean closing his eyes. “Because you’re mine, Winchester. I picked you first after all.”

“You so did not,” he chuckled. “I saw you with those obnoxious sneakers first.”

You laughed, Dean’s eyes peeling open, a devilish smirk on them. “Oh, Winchester. You really never paid attention to who would sing the National Anthem before all those little football games, did you?”

He blinked, cocking his head, eyes widening. “You! That wasn’t-”

“I was horribly shy and there were fifty thousand people in the stands each week. I went Hannah Montana and wore a wig and those crazy sunglasses.”

“You’re Penny Princess!” he exclaimed, shaking his head with a smile. “She flirted with me all the fucking time before games!”

“I was emotionally repressed in college, not dead. A girl has needs,” you laughed, running your fingers through his hair. “You were so fucking cute back then. So many times I wanted to be brave and go talk to you at a party but all I saw was pain. But I did think you were cute.”

“I thought you barely remembered me from college,” he said quietly.

“I repressed a lot from back then. I’ve been…thinking about you a lot lately and remembered some stuff,” you said, your cheeks feeling flush.

“Alright. You picked me first,” he murmured, thumbing over your hot face. His hand drifted downwards, lightly grazing over your chest, knuckles brushing your pebbled right nipple. Teasing. The barest of touches that sent sparks down your back.

Then you were both were moving fast. His thumb on your clit. Your hand pumping him. Mouths smashing together like you hadn’t spent the past three weeks making out every night.

“Whoa, girl. Get a little wet-” said Dean as you grabbed his shoulders and slammed down on his cock. The groan he let out was absolutely sinful. “Jesus. You’re wetter than the fucking ocean.”

“Emotional reassurance turns me on,” you said, Dean laughing so hard you felt it run like a wire through your body.

“I’m going to tell the press you should be the one with the naughty nickname if you can take dick like that on your first go.” You lifted your hips a few inches, dropping slowly, raising up slow again.

“You really ought to take a look in that nightstand sometime, handsome,” you winked, Dean’s chuckle turning into a soft little moan.

“How are you going so slow? You’re not gonna last,” he breathed out, squeezing your body tight.

“Feel my thighs,” you said, Dean’s hands sliding down, fingertips pressing into the flesh.

“Shit, girl. Gotta give me your leg workout.”

“Squats. A lot of fucking squats,” you said, slowly falling down on his cock again, his thumb rubbing lightly, easing you back from your build up. “I might not know what the fuck I’m doing but I can stay along for the ride at least.”

“You uh,” he groaned when you ground your hips down and rolled them, his cock twitching inside you. “Shit, you know what you’re doing, sweetheart. Trust me. Actually better cool it with that move unless you want me to go early.”

“Not yet, want this to last a bit longer.”

A bit longer turned into nearly an hour, both of you fucking drenched in sweat, Dean bouncing you up and down on his cock as you moaned into his neck. His whole body tensed up when he finally came a moment after you, your legs shaky but body sated.

“Did I do okay?” you panted, lifting your heavy head. Dean wore a goofy smile as he started to giggle, arms wrapped you, hugging you in a warm embrace.

“You did fucking incredible,” he laughed, kissing your cheek. “I can’t wait to go again.”

“Me too,” you said, eyes catching the clock on the nightstand. “Oh shit. It’s already after one. What time do you have to get up?”

“Six,” he said with a grin. “Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow, well today, should be an easy game.”

“We still got to get you to bed.” You tugged him up and into the bathroom, trying to get him to take a shower and into bed quickly. But he insisted on helping you clean up, washing your hair for you and even wrapping it up in a big towel while he dried off.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he said when you shook your damp hair out, his eyes sleepy but a smile in them.

“You say that a lot.” You ran the towel over it one last time before ditching the towels on the floor, walking him back to the bedroom.

“It’s true,” he said, booping your nose. You barely had the covers peeled back when he tugged you to his chest, throwing the blankets over top of you. A heavy arm slid over your waist, your head resting on his shoulder while you hugged his torso. “See? You already know how to do a post-sex cuddle too.”

“Dork.”

“Yeah but I got the girl so…” he teased, kissing you when you looked up.

“Yeah I guess you did.” You kissed his pec, a pleasant warmth filling you when he tucked your head under his chin protectively. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You woke up to yelling. Dean was sat upright in bed, his body between you and the door, an arm in front of you as you both tried to shake the haze of sleep.

“Shut the fuck up, Eric!” screamed Sloane. You both relaxed, a glance at the clock showing it was five thirty. Eric shouted back as you ran your hands over your face.

“We need to have a talk with those two,” he sighed. “Here I thought you meeting my parents would be the most awkward part of my day.”

“Parents?” you asked, Dean humming as he pecked a kiss on your cheek and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“They always go to my home games. You’ll have to watch with them in the private booth I share with Benny. There’ll be other people. His family and friends. I’m sorry, I should have warned you it’d be different than the booth you had with your friends in New York. I can try to get you one on your own-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, cupping his cheek when the worried eyes remained. “I’d love to watch with them, meet them. And I like Benny so I’m sure I’ll like his family too.”

“Okay. I promise they’ll be cool. Well probably not but I can plead and beg with them at least.”

“I said shut up!” shouted Sloane again. You shared a look and got up, going into your closet to find a bra and underwear. You tossed a flannel shirt Dean had worn over last week on and wearily walked out, Dean dressed in last night’s clothes.

“I’m sure I’ll love your parents. Probably more than my own,” you mumbled, Dean catching your hand before you could open the door to go face whatever the hell was happening.

“Do you talk to them at all?” he asked. You shrugged.

“Holidays. They come to my award shows and normally at least a few concerts a year, normally the ones in Kansas City back home. They…visit during Max’s birthday week,” you said, glancing down. “His birthday is today. He’s twenty eight. They’ll show up tomorrow.”

“Why not today?”

“I get the feeling they don’t want me around today,” you whispered. “Another day that’s supposed to be his and I’d somehow make it about me.”

“We’ll celebrate tonight.” Your eyes darted up, Dean nodding. “We’ll have a cake and you can tell me all about him.”

You swallowed thickly, blinking back the sudden wetness in your eyes. “Y-You don’t have to do that.”

Dean stepped forward, tucking your loose hair behind your ear, humming to himself. “You’re right. I don’t.”

He held out a hand, smiling softly when you bottom lip wobbled. “Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” he responded. You nodded quickly, Dean shushing you when you sniffled. “I still make Sammy a birthday cake every year. Let’s do the same for Max, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, grateful as he intertwined his fingers with your own. Another round of shouts came and you readied yourself, Dean wiping away the rouge tear that had fallen. “What do we say to them?”

“Either they work it out, they work different areas or one of them has to go,” sighed Dean. “I really don’t want to lose Sloane, especially now with probably needing actual security for myself.”

“And I can’t lose Eric. I just can’t. He’s the one person I can trust without a doubt on my team. Plus he’s my only real friend beside you. Everyone else is superficial.”

“My boys can’t wait to hang out with you properly. They’re pretty ride or die,” he said, closing his eyes. “We tell them they work it out or they just don’t speak to each other about anything not strictly work related. They’re both professional enough to not jeopardize the two of us.”

“Agreed,” you said, the shouting getting louder. Dean opened the door, letting you take the lead when you got to the top of the stairs, looking over the balcony to see them shouting in the kitchen. “Eric! Sloane! It’s not even six in the damn morning!”

They both snapped their jaws shut, going into rigid upright positions as if they were soldiers in trouble.

“Guys, this can’t keep happening,” said Dean when you got downstairs, taking your hand in his again. Eric stared at his shoes while Sloane shot angry daggers in Eric’s direction. “We know the history between you two. But Y/N and I need the both of you, more than ever. You have to learn to get along or we have to insist you don’t talk to each other beyond what is necessary for work. Can you both do that?”

“Yes,” said Eric.

“Yes,” Sloane grit out, still glaring at Eric.

“Sloane,” snapped Dean, her eyes shooting to him instead, chin falling. “Yes or no. It’d kill me to lose you but if you can’t live with the options we presented, I will ask you to resign for the sake of Y/N’s safety.”

“I would never put her in danger,” said Sloane quickly, glancing at you. “I can work with Eric as Dean’s primary. We just…will be professional. There’ll be no more fighting.”

“Agreed,” said Eric, nodding quickly. “We apologize for disturbing you.”

“You’re lucky Dean had to get up soon anyway.” You went to the coffee maker, grateful one of them had already made a batch. You poured some in the periwinkle mug for Dean before making a cup for yourself. “Dean, would you be okay with Eric sticking with you today?”

“What?” asked Eric, Dean taking the mug and ignoring him.

“Love to,” he said. “Sloane will get you to the stadium and keep an eye on you.”

Sloane looked equally annoyed as Eric, the both of them keeping their mouths shut.

“I left you a care package in your office,” said Dean with a smile. “If you don’t want to wear my jersey that is.”

“I think I might be inclined. Wouldn’t want people thinking we’re together or anything.”

“Pft. God no,” he teased, Eric rolling his eyes. Dean kissed you quickly before going to Eric, throwing his arm over his shoulders. “Come on, buddy. You can help me pick out my outfit to walk into the stadium. Now I’m thinking a Princess of Pop tour t-shirt…”

Eric sighed as they headed out, the door closing softly behind them.

“You can go back to your morning coffee,” you said, Sloane picking up a black mug on the island. You held yours with both hands, sipping slowly.

“Why did you want me to stay here?” she asked, a little cold for your liking.

“Because I want to talk to you alone,” you said, going to the backdoor, opening the slider. You motioned and she followed with her mug, the two of you sitting in the early dusk light on the patio.

“You will never convince me to forgive Eric so don’t even try.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You felt her stare but resisted the urge to look at her. “I could tell you how he has regrets and guilt and he believes you’re so much better at the job than him but you already know that. I know you don’t care. All I wanted to say was…I understand loving someone so completely and then they hurt you in a way that, even though you still love them, it’ll never be the same. There will always be pain there. And you want to stop loving them or you want to find a way to forgive, one or the other but you fucking can’t and it just…sucks.”

You sat in silence for a minute, only the sound of a few coffee slurps in the cool morning air before Sloane finally drew a deep breath.

“I know you��ll understand this because you’re a strong woman. Not the way I know how to deal with weapons or threats but you’re strong. You built a goddamn empire by yourself and you get rid of the shitheads without a second glance. I know you’re like Dean in a way too and yet you keep on going.” You turned your head, the tip of her nose pink in the soft light, a glimmer of wetness in her eyes. “Sometimes you don’t want to be strong. You just want your person to be there and hold you and make you feel safe and like you can fall apart. I know you understand that because I see your face when you’re with Dean and I see how no one will ever be able to protect you the way Dean will.”

You nodded, reaching over to her chair and holding her cold hand.

“I was so hurt and I just needed Eric to sit there and hold me. It’s all I needed and he couldn’t do it. He was so caught up in his own guilt, which it wasn’t his fault we had bad intel in the first place which he fucking knows, but he was so wrapped up in his head he couldn’t be there for me. He couldn’t see past his pain and see that I needed him more in that moment. Could you imagine the worst day of your life and Dean is right there, ten feet away, and he won’t come to you? All you want is him and he leaves you on your own?”

“Men are idiots,” you said quietly, Sloane laughing dryly.

“Fucking preach,” she sniffled, closing her eyes. “And then he got me fired. I understand why, I fucking do because in his fucking little moronic man brain that was how he stopped me from getting hurt ever again. But all he did was made me lose the two things I was fucking good at, fucking loved, in the span of a week. He made decisions about my life for me and that is not okay.”

“Eric’s been known to be a fucking idiot on occassion,” you said, offering a smile. She nodded, breathing deeply to look out over the yard. “Why do you two keep screaming at each other?”

“He tries to apologize and I don’t want to hear it. It will never be good enough. He stole a part of my soul and it’s never coming back,” she whispered. “The worst part is I look at him and I still love him. But I know what he’s capable of and I won’t do that to myself again.”

You rubbed the back of her hand, Sloane smiling over at you. “Dean and I are getting serious. There’s a chance…real serious. Someday our security might not be so separate anymore. I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Eric’s soul is fucked up too and I’d love nothing more than to see you two somehow work it out. But if you never did and if it hurts too much, I want you to tell me and we will find a way where you two will never interact. You will not lose your job because I am dating your protectee and you have the shitty luck of your sort of ex being my guard. I promise.” Sloane watched you, nodding her head.

“I see why Dean’s in love with you,” she said. “You are tenacious under that sweet little pop princess guise.”

“Wolf in sheep’s clothing,” you said. “Kinda like you. I bet you know how to fuck people up big time.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, taking a sip from her drink. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for being decent.” You closed your eyes, yawning loudly instead. “There’s some spare rooms at the far end of the house. You can pick one for if you stay over again, keep some personal things there.”

She nodded, neither of you saying a word for a good ten minutes as you watched the sun slowly try to poke it’s head out over the trees.

“Would you be able to forgive Dean if he did what Eric had?” Her voice was small, unsure. You finished off your coffee, resting the ceramic against your bare thigh.

“Sloane.” You waited until she was looking at you, a slight crinkle in her forehead. “Eric was a fucking asshole for what he did. But I know how protective of me he is. Seeing you hurt and him thinking it was his fault? It broke him. He probably wanted you to hold him in that moment as much as you wanted it except he hated himself so much he ran. It was the wrong move but he can’t change it. Let him go or find a way to forgive him.”

You stood up, stretching up on your tip toes.

“Come on, no more silly men talk,” you said, taking her hand and yanking her up. “Let’s go pick out our outfits for the game.”

“Uh, what?” she asked, letting you tug her along after you.

“You’re sitting with me in the box. You think I’m going to meet my boyfriend's family for the first time by myself? No way. You’re protecting my ass today and that includes awkward situations.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” she sighed.

You showed up to the stadium after an early lunch with Sloane. It’d taken a bit of work to get her to talk about anything besides security protocols but she’d warmed up to you by the time the morning was through.

Offering her chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast hadn’t hurt either.

And you absolutely loved your surprise from Dean. It was an old school letter man jacket for the Wolves. Original. You didn’t even want to know how much he’d paid for it.

Eric had texted multiple times that Dean was annoying the shit out of him but you had a feeling they were starting to become friends when Dean texted that he was leaving you for his new bestie Eric.

Y/N: Cool with me. You take Eric. I got dibs on Sloane. She’s actually hot when you get her out of that awful pantsuit.

Dean: YOU GOT HER TO CHANGE??? I’ve been trying for years! Also, no. I get both of them. Throuple all the way

Y/N: You want to be in a throuple with those two? We should check you for a concussion babe.

Dean: Good call. I’ll settle for you.

Y/N: Settle? And I wore my new jacket and everything for you!

Dean: Well you didn’t say that lol. Btw I told Eric he doesn’t have to hang out with me all day. I’m in the locker room, nice and safe. Shockingly, he didn’t listen to me.

Y/N: That’s cause he gets paid to listen to me, not you.

Dean: Why does that not surprise me? I have to run to a team meeting and then prep. Have fun and I’ll see you after the game to make our cake for Max!

Y/N: Be safe!

Dean: I’ll do my best!

“Are you ready?” asked Sloane as you crowded into a service elevator. You hummed, shoving your phone in your shorts pocket, taking a deep breath. “His parents are kind people. I wouldn’t be nervous.”

“Force of habit,” you said, Sloane raising an eyebrow but she didn’t say anything else. Honestly there was no way it was going to be more awkward than when your parents showed up for a few days tomorrow. They always visited for Max’s birthday week but they didn’t talk about him and instead spent most of the time going out to eat, shopping or hanging out in your pool.

Ironically, it was great for your creativity when you were forced to hide away in the studio for days on end to escape the tension. Last year you’d written three songs in the span of four days. One of them was still in the top forty nearly six months after it’s release.

“The Winchesters live in LA. Perhaps if things go smoothly, the parents can meet when yours get in,” said Sloane. You raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a little fast to introduce them to each other, don’t you think?”

“Just a thought,” she hummed, clasping her hands behind her back as the door opened. The hallway was sparse, a thick lump in your throat when you walked past some people in the corridor and got stares. “I’m not the only security on this floor.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

“I know. Stating a fact simply,” she said, stopping outside a gray door with a number 15 on it. You readied yourself and slipped inside, finding around a dozen or so people inside already.

“Hey!” said a young woman, probably college age if you had to guess. “I’m making margaritas. You guys want one?”

“On duty, Casey,” said Sloane, the woman’s bright blue eyes turning to you.

“Uh sure,” you said, Casey shooting you a thumbs up and grabbing another red cup from where she worked at the back counter.

“Benny’s youngest sister,” said Sloane in your ear as you gave a few nods and smiles to people who caught your eye but returned their attention to their own conversations quickly enough. All the while Sloane was giving you the play by play of who they were.

Apparently Benny had a pretty big family. It wasn’t until you even made it past the food and drinks to the seats that you made it through all of them. Which meant the lone couple already in seats in the front row must have been Dean’s parents.

“You must be Y/N!” said an older blonde, shooting up from her seat and climbing the steps. She wrapped you up in a big hug, surprising you so much you just stood there. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Dean’s mom. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Don’t run her off yet, Mary. Dean’ll kill us,” teased an older handsome man. It was quiet obvious where Dean’s good looks came from. He picked you up in a bone crushing hug, squeezing you tight. “Hey, kiddo. I’m John.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said as he set you down on your feet. “Dean gets his hugs from you guys it seems.”

“We’re big huggers,” said Mary, Sloane saying a quick hello to them both before taking a seat in the second row beside one of Benny’s uncles. “I am so sorry I scared you. You must get that a lot.”

“No, you’re fine. I just wasn’t expecting it,” you said, rubbing your left arm, glancing at the field. “Watching the game from up here is cool, huh?”

“Sure,” said John, his tone making you look back at him. His dark eyes were relaxed, sympathetic almost. “The cameras will be on our box probably more than once to catch a glimpse of you. Try to relax and have fun.”

“What John is trying to say is,” said Mary, taking both your hands in hers, “We are really happy to meet you. Dean’s always carried a guilt inside of him and we’ve seen that ease over the past month. We know it’s because of you that he’s finally allowing himself to be happy again. So thank you.”

“He makes me happy too,” you said quietly, offering her a small smile. John threw his arm over your shoulders, your head turning up.

“Good. So stop being nervous and let’s have some of those margaritas to get to know each other over, okay?”

It was the end of the fourth quarter, the two minute warning ongoing and the Wolves were up by two touchdowns. And as much fun as you had watching Dean play, you’d spent the better part of the game talking with his parents. You already liked John when he asked what you did for a living and asked if you were hoping to make a career out of music. While he was silly, Mary was a complete mother hen over you, always making sure you had enough to eat and drink. It was refreshing to hear them talk about Sam openly. Max was such a touchy subject in your family but they were practically giddy telling you about how Sam had mercilessly teased Dean about the girl in the orange sneakers.

“That boy is looking down laughing his fucking ass off at his brother that he was right about it taking a decade to land a girl like you,” laughed John.

“C-Can I ask you guys a personal question?” They both turned in their seats, giving you their full attention. “Why did…when you don’t have a concrete answer…how’d you decide to say he was…”

“We understand,” said Mary, taking your hand. “Honestly? We took a look at the facts and the evidence we had about what happened to Sam. We understood most likely which ring took him and after a certain age, we know what they do to those boys. So we won’t ever know for sure but we know all we’ll ever be able to and those facts told us Sam’s not here anymore.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision but it’s one we decided as a family. Dean doesn’t agree with us but we respect his choice too. It wasn’t so much about having a funeral for us but more symbolic, an attempt for us to stop living in a grieving limbo and turn Sam’s life into a celebration for the time he was with us,” said John. You nodded, swallowing thickly as you glanced down. John rubbed your back, his heavy hand comforting. “Whatever choice your parents made, it was not an easy one.”

“They won’t talk about him anymore,” you whispered. “S’like Max didn’t exist.”

“The pain is excruciating,” he said. “Don’t blame them for trying to ease it. For a very long time Dean only talked about Sam to a few people. But even if they won’t, it doesn’t mean you can’t. We’d like to know about Max if you ever wanted to share.”

You smiled and nodded, getting a side hug from Mary as the last of the game clock ticked away.

“We weren’t so bad, were we?” asked Mary, John chuckling deeply beside you.

“I think Y/N’s put up with tougher shit than the two of us,” he laughed. “But it was very nice to meet orange sneaker girl finally.”

“You guys were great. I’d like to have you over for dinner sometime when we figure out a day that works,” you said, Sloane tapping your shoulder.

“We need to go downstairs before there’s too many people out there. Now,” she said. You stood up, surprised to find John right behind you. “John-”

“I’m an ex-soldier just like you. If you have a problem with me going with you, you can respectfully kiss my ass, Sloane.” You turned to Mary, an apologetic smile on her face.

“I can’t say I disagree with him going,” she said, Sloane rolling her eyes.

“Fine. Cover her behind,” said Sloane, quickly jogging up the steps. You said quick goodbyes to Benny’s family and were out in the now crowded hall, Sloane barking orders at five different security guards that were by the door.

“I’m sorry. I should have brought my team,” you said even though no one responded. Except for John that was.

“We can blame the fucking broadcast network for alerting everyone to exactly where you were,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders, walking behind you. Thankfully you got through the hoard of people quickly and to the service elevator, John slipping inside with you and Sloane.

“So this is one of the perks of being a celebrity,” said John as he took in the grimy elevator.

“You don’t really get used to it,” you said, John crossing his arms.

“Yeah, you’re too sweet a kid to actually like that shit,” he said, the door dinging and opening slowly. You followed Sloane out, John still on your heels much to her annoyance. “What?”

“What the fuck is happening?” snapped Eric as you rounded a corner, quickly getting in Sloane’s face. “You took her out of a secure room with fucking rent a cops?”

“Don’t you fucking start,” she shot back, John looking to you.

“It’s not you she’s pissed at,” you whispered, stepping between the two of them in a service hallway. “Fight later. I want to see Dean and I would like it if one of you could go back upstairs and escort Mary out of the box please.”

“You should have waited for me, Sloane,” growled Eric, grabbing your arm roughly, yanking you to his side. “Do as she asked and we need to have a serious discussion regarding Y/N’s safety if-”

“First off, stop fucking hurting me,” you said, ripping your arm away, Eric spotting the growning bruise and frowning. “Second, our security protocol says as long as we have two trained agents, we can use readily available security to move me. John is an ex-marine, like you, so Sloane was perfectly fine to move me. I was not in any danger. Now one of you please go get Mary.”

“I’ll go. She doesn’t know him,” said Sloane, bumping him on her way back to the elevator. Eric closed his eyes and sighed.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I just-”

“I know. It wasn’t normal. We’ll bring the team from now on,” you said, waving a hand forward. “Let’s go.”

John leaned down to your ear, the two of you following after Eric. “Are these the two that are in love?”

You hummed, John chuckling.

“Five bucks they end up fucking by the end of November.”

“October,” you said, John extending his hand and shaking yours.

“You’re on pop princess,” he teased, Eric gritting his teeth as he opened a door to reveal more people. It looked like some family members were hanging out in the hall and about twenty minutes later a door popped open, a few players walking out, Dean one of them.

“Hey!” he said, rushing over and picking you up in a spinning hug. “Did you have a good time? Were my parents okay?”

“Oh they were awful,” you said as you turned towards John.

“She’s terrible, truly terrible,” said John, not even able to hide his laugh. “Of course we like her you idiot. You think we were going to waterboard her or something?”

“No, just…shut up,” said Dean, pecking a kiss on your lips, the smell of pine in the air from his very recent shower. “I’m glad you guys got along.”

“I invited your parents to dinner sometime,” you said, Dean happy to hear that.

He had to run off to a post-game interview which gave Sloane enough time to bring Mary down. You chatted with them more while you waited, Eric and Sloane choosing to spend the time by watching opposite ends of the hall. It was another twenty minutes before Dean returned and he gave both his parents big hugs, catching up with them for a few minutes.

Finally after what seemed like another half hour, you were alone with Dean in his SUV, the two of you headed for home.

“So how’d it really go with my parents?” he asked, talking hold of your hand across the center console. You smiled out the window, his large thumb running over the back of your hand.

“They’re good people.” You tilted your head against the glass, closing your eyes. “I’m jealous.”

“We can share,” he said quietly.

“I’d like that.”

One Hour Later

The kitchen was an absolute mess. Cake mix covered nearly every surface, including you and Dean. Someone, Dean, hadn’t locked the head on the mixer. That someone had also turned it on full blast and absolutely whipped every single ingredient in the bowl out in a ten foot radius.

And you were laughing so hard looking at his chocolate covered face you were hit with the realization you hadn’t laughed on Max’s birthday in over a decade.

Dean was giggling as you stopped, concern filling his eyes when you stepped forward. “Hey, what’s-”

You grabbed his wet cheeks and planted a harsh kiss on him, Dean backing up against the fridge, letting you move you lips roughly against his. It wasn’t gentle. It was needy, Dean’s hands wrapping around your waist, holding your body to his.

You breathed hard when you felt light headed, Dean panting when he stared down.

“You’re mine,” you said, grasping his chin. He nodded, his warm breath pooling over your face. “Come wash up with me.”

“After you, sweetheart.”

It took another two hours but you finally had clean bodies, a clean kitchen, and a frosted chocolate cake sat on the island. Dean worked on slicing you each up a piece as you finished with a simple pasta dish for dinner, all the while your heart hammered in your chest. Something felt different. A good different. Like you weren’t so afraid of moving so fast anymore.

You carried the pasta and dessert into your dining room, settling in at your usual spot, Dean sitting beside you at the head of the table.

“Happy birthday, Max, wherever you are,” said Dean, rising his glass of wine, clinking it to yours when you smiled.

“I’m going to keep you, you know,” you said to him, Dean smirking. “Sweet boy.”

“Lucky me,” he said, leaning over, kissing you sweetly for the briefest of moments.

“Me too, Dean.”

??? POV

“The Wolves keep this up and they’ll be a shoo in for the playoffs,” said Sebastian as he spoke on the phone to his brother, watching sports center late that night. I set his beer down on a coaster on the end table, taking away the empty. “One sec.”

He covered the phone with his hand, glancing up at me.

“Is Cecilia’s lunch prepared for tomorrow?”

“Yes sir. Soccer uniform is also washed and ready in her sports bag,” I said, Sebastian nodding in approval.

“Good. Take care of that and you’re excused for the rest of the night.”

“Yes sir,” I said, nodding before leaving him in his man cave and heading for the kitchen. I had just finished rinsing out the bottle when I heard soft footsteps enter, the fridge door opening.

“Is dad still on the phone?” asked the young voice, shutting the door with a sigh.

“Yes, Miss Cecilia,” I said, drying off the bottle and placing it in the recycling bin under the sink. “Would you like me to prepare you anything?”

“No. I just want some chocolate,” she said, opening the pantry and grabbing a fistful of dove chocolate squares. “Want one?”

“No thank you,” I said.

“Well if you had a period, you’d want one too,” she said, tearing off the wrapper and popping a whole one in her mouth. “I can’t believe I have to deal with fucking cramps for the next thirty years. Minimum.”

“Language,” said Sebastian, walking in, finally off the phone. “And don’t discuss your menstruation with other people. It’s not classy.”

“Don’t even start,” she said to him, taking a permission slip out of her pocket. “Can you sign the stupid thing already?”

I attempted to leave but Sebastian held up a hand, my feet planting firmly in place. “I think you’re too young to be going on a week long trip.”

“I’m fourteen, dad. My body is literally, as we speak, expelling shit from me because there isn’t a baby in there. So I’m old enough to make human life but not go on a fucking school trip?” she asked. Sebatian looked at me and I wished I could run away. I knew how this would fucking end.

“Wouldn’t you agree fourteen is too young to go?” he asked. I didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes sir. Miss Cecilia will have plenty of other opportunities to travel when she is older,” I said. Sebastian crossed his arms at his daughter. Cecilia responded by twitching her eye in rage.

That was one of the reasons I liked that kid. She didn’t give two fucks how rich and powerful her father was.

“You did this same exact thing when you said I could go to the Y/N Y/L/N concert in the summer and then you turned around and said I couldn’t! Stop talking out of both sides of your mouth.”

“Excuse me?” said Sebastian, raising his voice. “You went to that fucking concert with all your little friends. VIP tickets I paid for if I recall.”

“You said I could go by myself and then my fucking dad shows up-”

“I was not letting a group of six barely teenagers go to a concert by themselves.”

“Your security was with us! It’s not like we were alone!” She shot back.

“You are still too young-”

“Asshole!” she shouted, grabbing the paper and throwing one of the chocolates at his face. “I’ll get mom to sign it when I’m at her house then.” She stormed off and upstairs, slamming doors as she went.

“Be glad you don’t have a fucking hormonal teenage daughter,” sighed Sebastian, picking up the chocolate and tossing it to me. “Retire to your quarters for the night.”

“Yes sir,” I said, going to the pantry and putting the chocolate away.

“Go on,” he said, my head whipping over my shoulder. “You can have one for putting up with her bullshit.”

“Thank you sir,” I said, grasping two in the bag, hiding them in my fist as I pulled it out. I left him in the kitchen before heading through the butler’s pantry and to a plain door. I entered the room with two double beds, nightstands, a desk and bookshelf. I bypassed the door to the bathroom and headed for the closet, stepping inside and shutting the one after myself.

I sighed and went to the door on the far side, opening it and stepping into the open room. I shut this door too and ripped off the fucking tie around my neck. “I hate that motherfucking asshole.”

“Not going to disagree.” I sat down on the twin mattress beside my sole friend in this god awful place. His head was buried in a book, one he must have read fifteen times by now. “I made stew. Ready to eat whenever you are.”

“Let me wash up quick.” I shoved the chocolates under my pillow and grabbed a pile of semi-clean clothes, going to the corner of the room and pulling the curtain shut of our makeshift bathroom. My shower was fast like it always was and in five minutes I was changed into sweats and a t-shirt, walking barefoot against the cool concrete over to the table where a camping stove housed our stew in a pot.

“So how was your day dear?” he joked as my stomach grumbled at the smell.

“Oh just lovely,” I said, dishing us each up half into a bowl, carrying them over along with a pair of spoons. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he said, putting his book aside before taking the bowl, setting it on the floor in front of him.

“Hey,” I said before he could start eating. I reached under my pillow and grabbed the chocolates, holding them out to him, his eyes wide. “Don’t worry. I had permission. Well for one but I figured I could get away with it.”

“I haven’t had chocolate in fucking forever,” he said as I dropped them in his hand, his free one instantly grabbing my wrist and shoving one back in mine. “We share. You haven’t had it in forever either.”

I nodded, each of us quickly eating our dinner before unwrapping our dessert, clinking them together with a quiet laugh. “It’s not much but-”

“Thanks, Sam. It’s great,” he said, taking a small nibble, savoring it. “Really fucking great.”

“Happy birthday, Max,” I said, biting into my own, enjoying the first rush of sugar in ages. We ate in silence, finished much too soon. I took care of the dishes and joined Max again, a strange little smile on his face. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you see any of the Wolves game today?” he asked.

“Just a little at the end. Why, Dean get a touchdown again or something?” I asked, Max smirking. “What?”

“My sister was at the game. Apparently she and Dean are fucking dating.” My eyes went wide, Max nodding. “They’re together. Isn’t that some kind of twist of fate or some shit?”

A spark of an idea shot through me. It was barely there but shit it was the first good idea I’d had in years on how to get out of this fucking shithole.

“What are you scheming?” asked Max quietly, even if this was the one room in this whole house where there were no cameras, the one room where security wasn’t constantly watching us.

We’d learned too many fucking times over the past decade that any of our escape attempts were dead on arrival. We knew we needed outside help and while we’d contemplated enlisting Ceclia knowing she’d be revolted enough by learning the truth about her father to help, it was too dangerous.

The last time we attempted an escape was seven years ago and we both still had the scars on our backs to remind us.

But if we could somehow reach out to our siblings…they were now rich and powerful enough to not be completely endangered themselves.

“Cecilia’s pissed at fuckface,” I said.

“What else is new?” asked Max as I shook my head.

“She’s extra pissed and still salty about the concert thing. Now we know fuckface is a huge fan of the Wolves and Cecilia is a big fan of your sister…we gotta find a way to get my brother and your sister here, like a party or some shit.”

“My sister doesn’t go to shit unless it’s for charity,” said Max. “According to Ceclia at least.”

“We gotta try Maxie. If we can get Dean and Y/N here at this house…we can find them and get the fuck out of dodge. But I know if we fuck this up-”

“We’re getting buried in the woods out back,” said Max, nodding once, knowing we had one last chance at this. He smiled though. We were both sick of living this way enough to take that risk. “Let’s fucking do it. Let’s get a game plan and get the fuck out of here.”

“Hell fucking yeah we are.”

___________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean x #dean x reader #football au

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redroomreflections · 11 days

Text

Not Easily Broken Chapter 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

6/10

Note: Yes,i know the picture has a watermark. it's 2 am.

W/c: 4.2k (less painful to edit!)

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)

You don’t know how long you’ve stared at the blank paper. Its thin blue lines taunted you. The questions on the tiny notebook assigned to you were intimidating. You’re sitting here, at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea and looking down at the paper. This is the first part of the assignment. Once you’re going to fail. There are several steps Cheryl gave to get things going for both of you. Answer the questions. Find something both of you like to do. Discuss them together. That should be easy, right? Wrong. It’s been four days and counting and you have yet to write anything. Not that there’s nothing to write. No. You have a lot to say. It just can’t be on paper. Neither of you has been good at expressing your thoughts. You’re worse. You come from a family where conflict was solved with abandonment and passive aggressiveness. Two things you do quite well. This venture into vulnerability is foreign. You’re afraid of being the bad guy again. You don’t want to address the unknown. What if even after all of this you and Natasha don’t work out?

You’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting the past week. There’s always something in the back of your mind that says you’re ruining her life again. You’re ruining your children’s lives. Everything you worked for you ruined. This time would be different. You’re coming into this with a clear head and a fresh perspective. You want your life back. You want your wife back. You want your family. It’s not like you cheated. You didn’t step out of your relationship. You sometimes wish it were so easy. Maybe then your actions can be excused. That’s not the correct way to say it. Cheating is never excusable. You guess it would have been another way to avoid accountability. You blame yourself every day for what happened. Even then guilt is not enough.

You sigh. Back to the questions. You hold the pencil in your hand—first question.

“You lead separate lives despite living in the same household.” You read aloud. Wow. Okay. That’s a tough one right off the bat. It’s relevant. It makes sense considering the context. You write yes. You move on to the second question. “You mostly speak about finances or household chores. Question three you have sex less than once weekly.” You stop your reading right there. You’re three for three. If this is how this is going you’re going to be in therapy for a while.

Were things really that bad? You wonder if Natasha is thinking the same things.

Across town, Natasha is indeed wondering the same things. She’s just finished up her run for the morning, having gotten the kids out of the door and off to school, and now she has the morning to herself. She’s sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, as the notebook rests in her lap. She pushes her glasses further up her nose.

“Sex less than once weekly?” She reads. ‘Sex never’. She writes. It’s true. Besides the phone sex last week she doesn’t remember the last time you two were so intimate. Well, she can. Emma’s fifth birthday party. She would hardly count that as something to brag about. While you’re skilled in the bedroom, she felt dirty afterward. She felt used in a way she wasn’t all that willing to share with you. Sex with you has always meant so much more to her. She hopes it’s the same for you. She doesn’t think about it for too long. She can’t dwell on the fact that her body aches for you. Natasha Romanoff knows her worth. She is aware she could go out and find anyone to fuck. She doesn’t have to go far truthfully. She doesn’t want that. It’s kind of pathetic and she would never admit it to anyone.

Natasha is about to answer another question for the checklist when the doorbell rings. She glances at it, hoping that whoever it is will go away when the ringing becomes more insistent. Natasha rolls her eyes, slamming the book down against the coffee table, to go and answer the door. She swings it open, ready to give whomever it is a piece of her mind when she stops. She crosses her arms and glowers at her visitor suspiciously.

“Romanoff,” Richard grins at her. “Don’t you look swell?” He admires her messy hair, tank top, and running shorts. He waves a file in his hand. “I have work.” He offers her one of the coffees in his and she takes it.

“I thought we were meeting at the tower,” Natasha drops her hands from the door. She walks away without offering him a second glance. He would follow. What she doesn’t see is him checking out her ass as he steps inside. He closes the door behind with and walks with her toward the living room.

“I thought this was much better,” Richard shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“I’m sure you were,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, give me a minute to change and I’ll be right back down. I have a couple of notes over there.” She waves her hand somewhere in the room. Though Richard is an asshole she knows he won’t do anything to put her in danger. She leaves him to his own devices to change out of her workout gear. Not that her new outfit would be much better.

Richard stands, walks over to the couch to sit, and places the file on the coffee table. He spots the notebook she’s been writing in. It’s safe to assume it’s the one she permitted him to read. It’s not.

“Healthy relationship checklist,” He reads to himself. “No sex?” He whistles. Wow. That’s disappointing.

“I’m going to have to ban you from my house soon,” Natasha calls down the stairs. He quickly places the notebook back where he found it. Natasha comes into the living room in a simple blue blouse and slacks. She glances at the notebook, noting that it’s moved a few inches, and tsking. “Richard, seriously, you’re my partner. One I didn’t want. At least have the decency of giving me privacy.”

“I’m sorry I was curious,” He raises his hands in surrender. “If it makes you feel any better I haven’t done it in a while either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better,” Natasha shakes her head. “And I don’t believe you. You’re looking at a sexual harassment complaint and a broken nose if we keep talking about this.”

“Fine,” He shakes his head. “I just think you deserve better.” At Natasha’s warning look he clamps his mouth shut. “I need a consult. Fury wants the entire team on this case but we need your expertise.”

“Why would you need my expertise?” Natasha sits across from him. She takes the file, flipping through the pages before she shakes her head. “What is this?”

“A recruitment center,” Richard describes. “Someone is recruiting young girls to be assassins. Training them to go out and do their bidding. We want to know the best way to, uh, get in there and get out.” He gestures.

Natasha frowns. They could have very well asked Melina Yelena or anyone but her. She’s not an expert on brainwashed children. She only knows so much. Even then she provides him with an answer.

“You’re going to need to get someone on the inside obviously,” She says. “Preferably someone young. Wanda Maximoff could pass. She gets in. Find out who knows what. You protect her with your life. Make sure she feels safe at all times. Know that if it’s as bad as this film reads some of them will die.”

“That’s dark,” Richard comments.

“Well, it’s not all sunshine and roses,” Natasha mumbles. She sets the file back down. “Is that all you needed from me?”

“Well, yeah,” Richard nods.

“Well, I’d like to be alone in my home now,” Natasha says none too politely. She passes him the large envelope. They both stand. She walks him to the door and to both their surprises you’re on the other side. You’re a bit off-put by Richard being there.

“I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I stopped by to..” You trail off.

“Y/n, so good to see you,” Richard offers you a fake smile that you don’t return.

“He’s leaving,” Natasha makes a face at him. She wasn’t really in the mood for this nonexistent love triangle thing that goes on every time you’re all in the same space. Not that it matters to her. Richard would never be someone that is on her romantic radar. Not when she only has eyes for you.

“Right, leaving,” Richard nods. He’s about to make a joke when Natasha punches him before he can even open his mouth. He holds his sore arm, offering her an “ow!” Before he shakes his head. He walks down the stairs and to his car without another word.

Natasha’s gaze returns to you and the brown paper bag you have in your hands.

“Is that for me?” She asks and you nod silently. Seeing her with Richard does things to you. You follow her into the house where she closes and locks the door. She takes the bag from your hands to set it on the hallway table. You’re not sure who makes the first move but Natasha is in your arms, kissing you, feeling you, and walking backward toward the couch. Your hands are everywhere on her body. You feel the skin under her shirt, down her sides, and her hips, as you push her gently to lie down on the couch. Your kiss is hungry and rough and full of passion. She moans at the feel of your weight atop her. She kisses you back. When your hand slides up her shirt, pinching her nipple through the sports bra she’s wearing, she rips her lips from yours to moan. Her cries go straight to your core. You’re lying here between her legs, kissing her neck now, and holding her right where you want her. Natasha enjoys your touch. It excites her. It makes her feel wanted. She raises her hand to place it over yours.

“Y/n,” Natasha begs. She doesn’t know exactly what for. She imagines it would be so easy to allow you to take her right here. Right now. The kids aren’t home. There’s no one here to stop her. Even so, she can’t help the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. “Y/n.” The tone of her voice stops you in your tracks. You lift to look into her concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. You take in her kiss-swollen lips, her mussed hair, and her flushed skin. She looks so damn sexy.

“You did this last time,” Natasha points out. Her voice is small and barely there. You can tell she’s trying to keep the conflict at a minimum. You give her a confused look. What was she talking about? “It’s… it’s stupid.” She shakes her head. “I can't help but notice. Every time Richard comes around you feel the need to stake your claim in some way.”

“I don’t do that,” You scoff. She gestures to the spot on her neck that’s formed into a slight purple bruise. When did you do that? You deflate, sitting up, removing yourself from her embrace. You take deep breaths. Were you doing that to her?

“I didn’t want to bring it up to upset you,” Natasha instantly misses your touch. She fixes her shirt, adjusts her bra, and moves to sit closer to you. “I don’t want you to want me because someone else does.”

“Do you seriously think that?” You question. “Nat, baby,” You breathe. “I want you because I missed you. I want you because I find you attractive. I want you because you’re everything.” You take her hand in yours. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing it to show ownership over you. That’s not something I want.”

“I want to be yours,” Natasha confesses quietly. “Just not like that.”

“I understand,” You nod. Natasha kisses your pouting lips. You smile. The notebook on the coffee table catches your eye. “So you’ve been doing the assignment.”

“I have,” Natasha glances at the paper.

“It’s pretty eye-opening,” You say and she nods in agreement. “I didn’t think things were that bad for us. I mean, I know, we got a divorce. I just…it puts things into perspective.”

“It does,” Natasha runs a hand through her hair.

“I want this to work for us,” You admit. “I’m sorry. I am. I want us to work.”

“Me too,” Natasha kisses your lips again. “Did you bring your book? We could go over some of the questions now.”

“I did,” You say as you reach over her legs to the bags you brought. You pull out the book, cracking it open to the page you’ve written on, while Natasha opens hers. “So, I’ve realized a lot of these are things we’ve done at the beginning of our relationship. We seemed to enjoy each other then. Pre-kids I guess.”

“Hmm,” Natasha hums.

“Okay, this question,” You go to one you haven’t answered yet. “Please be truthful. Don’t hold back because you think it’s going to hurt my feelings.” Natasha nods. She could do that. “Do you feel comfortable being yourself around your partner?”

Natasha bites her lip. “I have always felt I could be myself with you. There were times I didn’t think I could. That maybe I needed to play a part to, um, make you happy.”

“I felt the same way,” You mumble. “Nat, I’m -”

“You’re sorry that’s understandable,” She shakes her head. “It’s something we have to work on. I love you for you. I’ve always loved you for you.”

“I’ve always been attracted to everything about you,” You begin. “I’ve always loved your personality. Your tenacity. Your humor. Your ability to be vulnerable.” Natasha blushes under your intense gaze. She takes her pen to write a few things before moving on to the next question.

“You rarely hug, hold hands, or touch each other in a non-sexual way,” She reads aloud. There’s a silence that neither of you breaks. “The butt rubs stopped.” She points out.

“What?” You look at her in surprise. “I guess they have. Was that the first indicator that something was wrong with you?”

“It was one,” Natasha shrugs. “I just thought you needed space and it’s not always a sexual thing but we stopped touching each other. It wasn’t only you. I stopped too.”

“Damn,” You curse under your breath. “We could try it now? I mean, one of our exercises was extended cuddling time. Now would be the perfect opportunity.” You offer and Natasha likes that idea. She takes both notebooks to sets them down on the table. You lie down first and she crawls on top of you. Her head rests on your chest, your arms wrap around her waist, and you simply hold each other. Your shared breathing and warmth lull you to a place of comfort. Natasha wriggles her butt, silently asking for your hands on her, and you oblige. You reach down, and your right hand travels over the slope of her soft, supple behind, before you rub. It’s tentative touches at first. Just a simple swipe of your hand before your rubs turn into kneading. You massage the covered flesh in your hands and Natasha hums.

“I missed this,” She mutters into your chest. She peeks her head up at you. Her eyes travel from your eyes to your lips. She follows through with whatever thought she’s having and she kisses you. Her kiss is gentle and reassuring. She lingers, her lips brushing against yours before she opens her eyes again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You kiss her again. “So much, Natasha.” She smiles widely. She can’t describe how happy she feels right now. She’s here with you, in your arms, and there’s no other place she’d rather be. Her happiness surges to something else entirely. Suddenly all she wants is you. She kisses you again, deeper, harder, this time it’s all teeth and tongue. She sucks her bottom lips into your mouth, eliciting a moan from deep inside you and your grip on her ass loosens.

“We shouldn’t,” She breathes between kisses.

“You’re right,” You nod in agreement. “Though she did say we could.”

“It’s not like we need permission,” Natasha smirks. “We’ve done this before.”

You shrug. She may be right.

“Which means I know how to get creative,” You flip the both of you over in one swift move. You adjust Natasha against the pillows, her hair fanning out under her, as you lie beside her legs. “Interesting choice of attire today.”

“It was either this or the workout gear,” She laughs.

“It’s okay, makes it more fun,” You take nimble fingers to the buttons of her blouse. Natasha watches as you unbutton to reveal her smooth skin. “Tell me to stop.” You say but she doesn’t say a word.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She challenges. You slide your fingers under her bra cap, feeling her nipple harden under your palm, and she shivers.

“I’ve always liked you,” You joke and she nips at your chin. “I love you.” You correct and she hums. Much better. You twist her nipple, bordering on harsh, and Natasha practically jumps out of her skin. God, she’s missed this. You lean your head down, pushing the cup to the side, to suck her rosy nipple into your mouth. You swirl your tongue, alternating between licking and sucking and Natasha drops her head against the pillows again. You make sloppy sucking noises, only proving to turn her on further, as she rests a hand over your head to keep you there. “I want to make you cum.” You release her nipple with a pop.

Natasha is a grown woman. She likes sex. She enjoys sex. She’s about to throw away all of her reservations and tell you to do whatever. You offer an alternative. You button her slacks, zipping them down far enough for your hands to reach inside and you slide in. Your fingers ghost over the lips of her panties, pushing to feel the wetness seeping through, and Natasha preens.

“Like this then?” You say and she nods. That makes it more fun. You rake your nails over Natasha's pussy, finding the small nub peeking through the fabric, and you pay the most attention to that. Natasha arches her back and forces you to press against her deeper. “You like that baby?” You ask. “Is this what you wanted?” You ask as you work your magic through the cotton of her panties. Natasha nods her head, mouth open, eyes closed in complete pleasure.

“Ngh,” She moans her words caught in her throat, as she rocks her hips into your fingers. It feels so damn good. This entire act may seem a bit immature but she doesn’t care. Your fingers are on her, practically inside of her, and even with the thin barrier of her underwear she feels everything. You are firm in your movements. You’re purposeful with every circling of your fingers. Your movements go from small tight circles to wide and rough as Natasha moans louder. “Yes,” She hisses between her teeth. “Yes.”She whines and you know she’s close.

“Chase it, baby,” You encourage. “You’re so pretty like this. At my mercy.” You continue. “The perfect doll. So open and wet for me.” You kiss her bare shoulder, her neck, her chest. Anywhere you can reach. It feels so dirty here. The smell of her sex reaching your nose. The sound of shuffling and moving against the cushions is the only thing heard in the entire house. You want to give Natasha this. You need to give it to her. “My pretty girl. I want to make you my pretty wife again.” You find yourself saying and it’s the right thing. Natasha stiffens, and her left hand comes to grip your right arm as her hips thrust against your fingers. Even through her panties, you can feel the sudden gush of wetness from her. Natasha whimpers pitifully as you talk her through it. “That’s it, baby. I know. Your pussy feels so good.” You whisper closer to her ear. When she finally comes down, Natasha falls limp against the cushions and you catch her. You remove your fingers from her pants, resting them by her side, as you watch the rise and fall of her chest. Natasha opens her eyes a moment later, a bit startled by the fact that you’re watching her, and she shakes her head. You kiss her swollen lips.

“You did so well for me,” You praise and delight in her skin turning into an even redder shade. “I liked seeing you cum.”

“Stop,” Natasha groans. You chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for your orgasm,” You deny her. “I had fun doing it. I’d like to do it again soon. Maybe with that strap, you’ve been asking for.”

“I’d like that.” Natasha nods.

“This didn’t change things for you right?” You question and she tilts her head. “I mean to say that I meant what I said about making you my wife. It wasn’t just something I was saying to get you off.”

“It worked either way,” She quips. “I want that too. With you. Someday.”

“Good,” You smile. You trade kisses with Natasha, noting her sudden fatigue until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. You weren’t exactly intending to but you know you both need it.

************

A few hours later you’re awakened by the sound of the front door unlocking. The kids are home. You awaken first, tapping Natasha awake, and she only nuzzles into your body further. She’s not ready to move away.

“Unbelievable,” Yelena Belova’s voice interrupts your bliss. You both pop up to see the blonde standing over the two of you with a look of disgust on her face. “I can’t believe it.” Yelena shakes her head.

“Mommy!” Emma and Ryan chorus. Natasha makes quick work of buttoning up her shirt and pants without them seeing. It’s Yelena who notices and shakes her head.

“Is this why you wanted me to pick them up?” Yelena asks but then she drops Emma’s backpack onto the ground. “You know what, I’m leaving, I don’t even care.” She heads for the front door. You watch in trepidation as Natasha races after her.

“Yelena,” Natasha calls after her younger sister. “Yelena, you’re acting like a child.”

“And you’re being stupid,” The woman insults. She turns back to Natasha with a disappointed look on her face. “You can’t think one quick fuck is going to make her stay. She left you. She left your kids. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Yelena, that’s enough,” Natasha speaks firmly. “You don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well I have eyes,” Yelena argues back. “ I think I can see.”

“She’s my wife,” Natasha pleads with her sister to understand.

“No,” Yelena rants. “She’s your ex-wife that broke your heart.”

“And she’s trying to make things better,”

“And just like that, you believe her? You’re smarter than that, Natasha.” Yelena scolds her sister. Natasha doesn’t speak. “Don’t call me when she decides she doesn’t want to play house anymore.” Yelena walks away after that.

Natasha watches as her sister gets into her car and drives down the street. How was she supposed to respond to that? She turns back toward the house to see you standing on the steps waiting for her.

“That was intense,” You comment. Natasha nods. You hold out your arms for her to step into them. She hides her face in your neck.

“Am I being stupid?” She mumbles into your neck and you almost miss it.

“No, Natasha,” You assure her.

“Don’t make me look stupid,” She pleads. “I won’t survive it this time.”

“Me either,” You hold her.

You wouldn’t give this up again. You understand that Natasha’s family has a right to be cautious. They have a right to hate you. You could only hope that they see that you’re trying.

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natsxaddiction #natasha romanoff smut

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starjaeyun · 8 months

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FOOLISH ONE : you are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson !

— maybe should've listened to your friends when they warned you about hanma shuji

includes! hanma shuji x fem! reader

warnings! angst, hanma is an asshole (let's be real though, it's hanma we're talking abt 😭), obvious redflags, profanity, crying crying crying, break up

note! hello, it's me. ms. posts something then disappears. i'm sorry for ghosting u guys & my smaus 😭

"him again, huh?" to say the least, your friends were unimpressed that you came to them crying the morning after your 3rd month with Hanma.

Hina sighed, "listen, I'm all for helping them become a better person but it's been three months and I don't see any improvement in his behavior at all"

"and this isn't the first time he didn't show up to your plans. why are you even settling for the guy?" Emma says, visibly trying to control herself from throwing insults at your boyfriend, if you could even consider him that, because as much as she wants to she knows that that's not what you need right now.

"and not to mention, you've been a mess ever since that thing came into your life. just break up with him already y/n. don't settle for a guy like that, you deserve so much more" Yuzuha rubs a comforting hand against your back, "it also hurts us seeing you heartbroken because of some..guy you know"

you sobbed, "that's the thing! I don't know why I can't stop myself from seeing him, I don't even know how I ended up dating him!"

"personally, I think you're out of options. do you want me to introduce you to Mikey-nii? you haven't met him yet, right?" Emma was only half-joking, of course

"now is not the time Ems" Hina lightly slapped Emma's shoulder

after a few more minutes, you've finally calmed down, "I've decided, I'm breaking up with him"

the girls immediately engulfed you in a hug, each of them giving you their goodluck.

the break up went successfully, Hanma didn't try to stop you nor did he seem to care. and while he didn't make it hard for you to end things with him, it made it hard for you to move on and get yourself together.

you spent at least 3 months crying over him, wondering if you made the right decision, which your friends reassured you that you did.

after all your crying, you started focusing more on yourself, friends, school, and family. and your friends couldn't be any happier as they watched how fast you were improving.

but 6 months after your break up and 3 months into your improvements, Hanma Shuji somehow managed to slither his way into your life again.

"hey" your breath hitched upon hearing his voice because what the fuck is he doing outside your classroom? you ignore his presence and continue to walk down the hallway, silently wishing that he's not waiting for you, that would make you feel better.

"don't ignore me" Hanma easily caught up to your retreating figure. you continue to walk as if he wasn't walking right behind you.

and just as you step foot out of the school premises, Hanma pulls you to the nearest alleyway.

but even when it was just the two of you, you refused to look up, you refused to show him the tears building up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry" you stay silent, not looking up or moving an inch

"I was an asshole" he was yet again met by silence, "but I've been thinking about you..since we broke up and I know it's late but I've only come to realize this"

Hanma sighed, "I love—"

"don't you fucking dare!" you finally look up, tears spilling out. "but—"

"NO!" you feel the small and sharp rocks in the alleyway pierce your skin when you fell to your knees, "It's unfair, you can't just— you can't just treat me like bullshit, not give a fuck when I break up with you, and suddenly come to my life a few months later to tell me that you love me!" you sob into your hands, all your hardwork and improvements these past 6 months were immediately washed down the drain.

"I'm sorry—"

"No! fuck you and your stupid fucking apology!" you gather the remaining strength in your body to stand up and walk away

you are not the exception, you remind yourself of Emma's hurtful but truthful words

Hanma won't make a change for you. Hanma won't make you an exception.

"I'll change!" Hanma engulfs you in a back hug, "for you. I'll do everything it takes to win you back, I'll treat you better, anything..just please give me a chance"

you let out a shaky breath as Hanma turned you around, "I love you" he whispers

tears slip out once more and he cups your face to wipe them with his thumb, "I fucking hate you" he continues to wipe your seemingly never ending stream of tears

"I know..it's okay, you have every right" a kiss on your forehead was all it took to break your cracked resolve, "may I..." his face inched closer to yours and when you responded by wrapping your arms around his neck, he closed the gap.

you will never learn your lesson

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wolfjackle-creates · 5 months

Text

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 2

Ghost!Robin won this week's poll as well! So have a little bit more of the fic for WIP Wednesday. *resolutely ignores the clock that informs me midnight was an hour ago so it is clearly Thursday*

Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what I post next.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Jason did not sleep that night, spending his time beating up a punching bag instead. What sleep he did get was laid out on the mats in the workout room. Even that was plagued by nightmares.

So it was with The Joker’s laughs still echoing in his ears that he finally dragged himself to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Danny was no where to be seen—probably sleeping—but the ghost was. He was staring out the window not doing anything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” grumbled Jason.

The ghost did the head motion every Robin learned to indicate they were rolling their eyes. Can’t he signed.

Jason grunted. He…probably should have figured that one out. “Well go read a book or something and don’t bother me.”

The ghost gave him a very deliberate look before flying to one of the bookcases and reaching for a book. Only for his hand to go right through it. He glared back at Jason.

“Oh.” Jason did not feel bad for the creature. He was the interloper here. But the silence in the room was not helping anything. Not with his nightmares so close to the surface. He hooked his phone up to a portable speaker and pulled up his audiobook library. Today was the sort of day for an old favorite.

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence…

Jason hummed in satisfaction and turned his attention to the fridge. What to make for breakfast? He resolutely ignored the ghost who’d settled in his living room.

A few hours later, Jason was finishing the homemade fruit sauce when arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested against his back.

“Mmmm, smells good,” mumbled Jazz, her voice rough with sleep.

Jason patted her arm. “I remember you liked the strawberry topping. Figured we could have it over pancakes. Batter is in the fridge.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” she said. She rested her head against his back and Jason felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t since he’d stepped out of the dining room and saw the ghost. “You left early.”

His stomach sank. Of course she noticed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jason,” she said flatly, a hint of warning in her tone.

He sighed. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts going ‘round my head.”

“Hence the Austen?”

He chuckled. “Hence the Austen.”

She yawned and pushed away from him. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get Danny up.”

“He was up pretty late himself; might need to sleep in.”

She groaned. “Of course he was up, too. Well too bad. He could’ve gone to bed earlier and I think we need to have a talk about what to do next.”

“He said something about doctor yetis and a place called the Far Frozen,” Jason said. He stirred the strawberries and lifted a spoonful to test it’s consistency. Perfect. He turned off the burner.

“Oh. And you agreed?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice if I want that”—he jerked a thumb at the ghost—“gone.”

“Jason…” her voice had gone soft and he winced.

“I know,” he admitted to the stove. “I know it’s gonna be more complicated than that.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “I love you, Jay,” was all she said before walking away. Presumably to the bathroom to get ready.

Which meant he had to start the pancakes. He pulled out the griddle, added a wad of butter, and turned on the heat.

By the time Jazz and Danny returned, Jason had made a pile of pancakes large enough to satisfy a speedster. Next to it sat the strawberry topping and a jar of syrup in case that was Danny’s preference. On an impulse, he grabbed the chocolate chips, too.

Chocolate and Austen, the perfect combination for a crappy day.

Unfortunately, breakfast passed much too quickly for his tastes and soon enough they were packing away the leftovers in the fridge.

“Jazz, you’re so lucky you found someone who could cook,” commented Danny.

Jason had to laugh. “Yeah, not one of her skills, is it?”

“Not one of either of our skills. Has she told you about what our kitchen was like growing up?”

“After your knife comment last night, I feel like she may have left some things out.” Despite everything that had happened since, he hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. Jazz was so tight-lipped about her childhood that Jason made a point to horde every detail she let slip.

Jazz groaned. “Nope. I’m full of delicious food and happy. I do not want to have to remember the hell that was the Fenton kitchen.”

From the corner of his eye. Jason could see the ghost looking at them with interest. He glared at him; the ghost glared right back.

“That’s enough, you two,” ordered Jazz.

Jason broke eye contact and stared at the floor to mumble and insincere apology he knew wouldn’t fool Jazz.

Luckily she took pity on him and didn’t push. “Danny, Jason said something about you taking us to the Far Frozen?”

Danny nodded. “Yep! Frostbite might be able to tell us what happened and have some ideas on how to help them.”

“Well, Jason, Robin,” started Jazz and Jason had to force himself to not wince at the way she addressed them both. “When do you think you want to go?”

“Now,” said Jason immediately. “Or as soon as possible. I want to know what’s going on.”

The ghost nodded his agreement and made more of those chirping noises that Danny seemed to understand.

“Then let’s get going,” said Danny.

Jazz sighed again. “Hold it, Danny. Jason, you and I should go get changed. There’s a reason it’s called the Far Frozen.”

Jason took her advice and dug deep in his closet for the heaviest winter gear. Before too long, Jazz declared them both dressed in enough layers to satisfy her. They returned to the living room.

“Do you need us to do anything?” asked Jason.

“Nah.” Danny raised his hand and made a slashing motion with his fist. “That’s all it takes. There’s some benefits to being the Ghost King: my ring can open portals anywhere.”

Following the motion Danny had made, a tear formed in the very fabric of the universe. Though it, Jason could see a swirling sky of Lazarus green. Over his years as a vigilante, Jason had seen many strange and impossible things. But that tear unsettled him on a more visceral level than most. It reminded him of the pits, he wanted to run away. It felt like home, he wanted to run forward. Instead he stared, transfixed by the way the bit of sky—was it sky?—through the portal appeared to flow like water.

Jazz grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Danny didn’t hesitate and flew right through, transforming as he did. The ghost followed right on his heels. Both turned to stare at him and Jazz.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked forward and Jason followed, half a step behind.

His conflicted feelings got stronger with every step, but he kept pace with Jazz until they were through. No ground existed wherever they were, but he and Jazz were able to float in place.

Behind them, the portal disappeared. Taking with it his only hope of retreat.

-----

They've made it to the Infinite Realms! And Jason still has Feelings™️ about the ghost that's following. (Do you notice he never refers to Robin, even mentally, as anything other than "the ghost"? That's a very deliberate choice.)

The strawberry topping is a thing I make semi regularly. I will sit there and eat it with a spoon it's so good. But over pancakes? Absolutely decadent. (The recipe calls it a pie filling, but eh. I'd rather just eat it with a spoon. Or over ice cream. Or pancakes.)

#dpxdc #ghost!robin #jason todd #jazz fenton #anger management ship #i need to make pancakes one of these days #theyre yummy #danny devoured his #hes spent so little time on earth lately #that he was ecstatic to have good homemade pancakes #hed only ever had them when sleeping over at tuckers before

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tinycoded360 · 16 days

Text

Sterling Household-Sick Giant

"I'm going to help Sterling." Cassia declared at the table in their tiny kitchen, hidden within the walls of the human’s home.

Milton jerked back in surprise, choking on his tea. “Wh…what do you mean?”

“He’s been sick for the past day. Throwing up and bedridden. I think it would be good for us to help somehow.” Cassia explained. “He already knows about us and has saved Emma and our kids. I think this would be good for our relations.”

“Relations?! There are no relations with a human!” Milton looked shocked and confused.

“It can’t be helped. We have relations with him now. We either make them good, or we move. What if he gets annoyed with us? Hmmm?” Cassia challenged her husband.

Milton sighed. Cassia grinned, knowing she had won.

“See? Relations can’t be helped now. We might as well take advantage of a tame bean.”

“What do we suggest we do?” Milton asked.

***** “This is insane!” Emma grumbled as she helped Cassia gather supplies- a thimble for carrying water, thread for rope, an upturned metal cap for a pot, and other gear that would be useful for their task.

“Well, we don’t want to seem ungrateful; he did help you, after all.” Cassia pointed out.

“I know, I know. But I don’t have to like it.”

“Did you get what I asked for?” Cassia asked her friend.

“Of course! It was easy, I’m a pro at fishing, I know all the best spots.” Emma said with pride. She pulled off her backpack and opened it showing three big fish. Or big fish compared to the borrowers, to a human the fish would be more like small guppies.

“Perfect! Milton’s gonna use those to lure Whiskers out of the way!”

Cassia took a deep breath and stepped out from the walls, exposed on the giant's countertop.

Milton stood at the bottom with their children. He threw a grappling hook to the counter, which Cassia helped latch. Then, they worked together to get their children to climb up. Next, Cassia lowered the fish down.

“Why can’t I stay with Papa? I can help!” Agnes protested with a pout.

“You stay with your mother; I don’t want you near his cat! It’s better if I do this alone. Now you be good for her. She’ll need all the help she can get for this,” Milton shouted up to his family and disgruntled daughter.

Cassia shot her husband a grateful smile. "It'll be alright, dear. We'll look out for each other," she said gently. “Now, you be careful!”

Milton nodded. Leaving to find the giant feline.

"Here, kitty-kitty..." Milton called in a sing-song voice, watching Whiskers' ears perk up from her dozing spot by the hearth. With a flick of her tail, she rose, her movements graceful and silent—a stark contrast to the frantic beating of Milton's heart. Milton had tied the fish together to a string. He broke out in a run, pulling the treat with him.

Leading her through the open back door, Milton danced just beyond her reach, the string pulling a fat, yummy fish, enticing the cat. Whiskers pounced, playful yet deadly. He darted left, then right, his small size an advantage in the game of cat and mouse they played. He spun around as Whiskers took hold of the fish. Whiskers started purring up a storm as she ate the treat. Giving Milton time to move around her and push the door closed, using all his might.

On top of the counter, the borrowers paused to catch their breath, the vast kitchen spreading out before them. Cassia took charge, pointing out the locations of knives, cutting boards, and ingredients.

"We'll need to work together to manage these giant tools," she said. Emma and her children voiced their agreement.

They slowly dragged the knife across the counter to a potato, then worked in unison to slice off chunks of the hearty vegetable. Their tiny arms strained from the effort.

Emma and Cassia worked together to push one of the pots still on the stovetop onto the burner. They then turned on the stove and filled the pot with water, using their buckets. This took a long time, and they only managed to fill it about ¼ of the way.

Soon, aromatic steam rose from their pot as the broth simmered. Cassia gave an approving nod, heart swelling with pride for her family and friends. By working together, they could achieve the impossible.

Emma turned off the giant stove, the dial clicking loudly in the silence of the kitchen. The rich scent of herbs permeated the air as the borrowers peered into the steaming pot.

"It's ready," Emma declared. "Let's fill up our containers and get this to Sterling."

The group worked efficiently, ladling the fragrant broth into thimble-sized buckets. The tiny containers looked almost comical next to the giant pot, but the borrowers knew every drop could aid in Sterling's recovery. Or, at the very least, Sterling would be flattered they went to all this work for him.

The borrowers entered Sterling's room. The giant bed loomed before them, its great expanse of fabric forming rolling hills and valleys from their minuscule perspective.

Cassia secured her rope and began scaling the bedspread, gripping the fibers like climbing holds. Emma followed close behind until they reached the summit.

Carefully, Cassia slid the bucket off her back and gazed at Sterling. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, face flushed with fever. She felt a pang of sympathy for the ailing man.

Cassia looked over the edge of the bed; she sighed in relief to see that her husband Milton had returned. Cassia tugged on the rope, helping Milton haul up the soaked cloth they had prepared. Though thin as gauze to Sterling, it took all their strength to shift the giant fabric.

Soon, the other borrowers joined them on the bed. Together, they took up positions around the cloth and heaved, maneuvering it towards Sterling's head. Their tiny hands strained against the weight, muscles burning with effort.

Finally, they aligned the cloth over Sterling's forehead. The man sighed, his body relaxing subtly as the cool fabric soothed him. The borrowers released their grip, allowing themselves a moment of rest before moving to administer the broth.

Cassia took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she approached Sterling's head, a thimble of broth in hand. She was struck by how vulnerable the human looked in repose, his usually lively features now slackened by fever. Gingerly, she climbed onto his pillow, boots denting the fabric. At this proximity, she was dwarfed by his enormous size, barely the length of his ear. Still, she felt no malice from the gentle man.

Joining Cassia, the other borrowers followed suit, tiny feet padding over Sterling's blanketed form. Their movements were cautious but purposeful as they positioned themselves around the giant's head.

Lila bounced excitedly.

Pippin looked nervous but determined.

Finn was clinging onto his father’s back in a piggyback ride. He was too small to carry the thimbles by himself. But he was happy to watch from the safety of his papa’s back as they fed the giant.

Agnes stood by Emma with her own thimble. She shifted with nervousness. While Sterling had been gentle with her when he had caught her, she was still scared of his massive presence.

Emma nodded at Cassia, signaling they were ready. Cassia tipped the thimble to Sterling's parted lips with great care, letting the broth trickle in. His throat bobbed reflexively. They continued taking turns, administering the medicine thimble by tiny thimbleful.

Suddenly, Sterling stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. The borrowers froze as his gaze found them, crowded on his pillow. Confusion clouded his expression. Then, awareness lit his eyes.

Cassia met his look unflinchingly. To her surprise, his lips curved into a tired smile.

"Wha….What are you doing?" he rasped, voice hoarse and confused.

Sterling's deep voice rumbled around the tiny borrowers gathered on his pillow.

Cassia steadied herself, pushing down her instinctive fear. This was the first time she had revealed herself to a human, but her family owed him a debt for protecting her children.

"We made you broth with medicine and herbs, so you're welcome," she said, her voice clear and strong. "I'm Cassia. My family and I want to help you get well."

Sterling's gaze shifted to her. Though she barely reached the height of his chin, the look in his eyes was one of respect.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Cassia," he replied. "I wish I wasn’t sick to meet you. You didn’t have to do this; I don’t want you guys to get sick.”

"You've kept my children from harm. I wanted to say Thank you." She smiled up at him. "Now rest. You need your strength back."

Sterling's eyes crinkled happily. He struggled to keep his eyes open, wanting to drink in the tiny people gathered around him. He tried not to shift too much, noticing how his movements caused the little people to stumble on his pillow to catch their balance. His eyes were alight with awe and affection. He found it cute to see them with their tiny thimbles, trying to nurse him back to health. He ponders on how this must have taken so much of their time. Sterling’s heart fills with a warm feeling at the thought.

Sterling froze when a tiny hand patted him on his cheek. He shifted his gaze and landed on the tiny woman, Cassia. She smiled at him. He could only really see her from the corner of his eye. “You need to rest; we can talk more when you’re better.” Sterling was fixated on the feel of such a tiny, delicate hand resting on his cheekbone. Each finger was so tiny. He could hardly see them, and certainly not at this angle, but he could feel the tiny twitches of the tiny hand.

Sterling’s smile softened, his features relaxing into lines of gentle amusement. "I'm glad you feel safe enough to speak to me." With that, Sterling closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

#giant/tiny #Sterling Household #Sterling #Sterling is sick right now #Cassia gonna take care of him #g/t writing #g/t #borrowers cooking in a giant kitchen #please think of ratatouille #The scene in ratatouille where all the rats cook in the kitchen #borrowers #gentle giant #original work #my writing #giant tiny #g/t writing community #g/t community

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 6 months

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 12) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY. MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Brief and Not Really Explicit Sexual Content; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake take a new step in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

Jake sat across from Javy out on Javy’s back porch. Phoenix, you, and Emma were out together doing something that Jake was sure had to do with the baby, and leaving Jake and Javy to have a quiet afternoon to catch up between themselves.

“You still don’t know the baby’s gender then?” Javy asked, causing Jake to nod.

“She wanted to wait, and I didn’t mind.”

“But you have an idea, don’t you?” Javy prodded, knowing Jake as he did.

“Yeah, I think that the baby will be healthy and happy.” Tapping his fingers on the table, Jake added, “But I sort of—and you cannot tell her this—want it to be a girl.”

“You want a girl?” Javy repeated, not looking surprised.

“I’d be very happy with a boy. But I feel like a girl, who takes after her mom and looks like her mom, that’s what I keep picturing in my head.” Scratching his chin, Jake looked over at Javy. “The more that kid takes after their mom, the better.”

“How is the future Mrs. Seresin doing anyway?” Javy teased, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s glowing these days, Javy. I swear. She’s absolutely glowing. And she says that the baby is getting more active. Nothing that I can feel yet, but they’re moving around in there. Mostly at night, which I can tell is going to annoy her eventually, but she’s just so happy every time she can feel the baby. And I mean I can see her bump getting bigger every week. I started taking photos of her so that we can track her growth. And I don’t know what it is but when I’m right next to her, I just feel the need to touch her bump and hold it and just be there.”

“Look at you,” Javy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re smiling more than ever. You’ve got a photo from the ultrasound in your cockpit and in your locker. You spend almost every lunch break calling her. You’re always rushing home to see her.” Javy laughed to himself again. “You’ve gone soft, Jake.”

“Fuck off, Javy,” Jake sighed without malice.

“It’s a good look for you,” Javy defended himself. “I mean, you’re the guy who got his callsign for being selfish, Jake.”

“Yeah, thanks to my kid’s uncle.”

“He’s still not over it?” Javy guessed, reaching for his beer bottle.

“He’ll never get over it,” Jake scoffed with a sense of finality. “Because he’s an idiot who thinks that I took advantage of her and that I’ll do something to hurt or upset her and the baby soon.” Rolling his eyes, Jake added, “He’d probably celebrate if we broke up.”

“I don’t think he’d celebrate . . . in front of her,” Javy added after a moment of thought.

“He can fuck off for all I care. He’s not getting in between the two of us or our family. If he actually cares about his sister, he’d back off.”

“Has he at least reduced his attitude?”

“He never says anything in front of her. I’m pretty sure that Emma and or Penny would actually drop kick him if he did. And he’s not a complete moron. He doesn’t want to stress her out.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “So, he’s just an asshole when she’s not around.”

“I guess that’s an improvement.”

“Barely. I’m not going to deal with this shit when the baby’s old enough to hear his bullshit and sense the tension between the two of us. I mean, what if the baby overheard him saying shit about me? I’d fucking kill him, Javy, I’m telling you that right now. If he wants to be an uncle to my kid, he’s going to have to get over whatever stick is lodged up his ass.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“No. I don’t want to stress her out or pick a fight. It’s going really well right now, Javy, and I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck it up over her idiot brother.”

“She’s aware of it, I’m sure. Her and Nat talk about it, I think. And Emma.” Javy rubbed his cheek as an amused smirk tugged at his lips. “My money’s on Penny to kick his ass honestly.”

“I’d pay to see that.”

“So, you guys are talking about the future?”

“Every day,” Jake agreed. “She wants everything sorted out—or as much as possible—before she gets too far into her third trimester.”

“What do you mean by everything?”

“Getting things put in both of our names so that if something happens to one of us, the other can take care of everything and the baby. Getting our wills updated. Discussing who would take care of the baby if her family’s history repeats itself.”

“And how is that going?”

“We were looking for a house because with the cheaper loans I would get, it just makes more financial sense, and we’ll need the space. And as for the baby, it’s a little more complicated right now because we’re not married, but we’re working on it.”

“Can I make an observation?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you guys just getting married?” Javy asked, causing Jake to pause. “Because a lot of this work would be done if you just signed a piece of paper at town hall. And you’d get benefits, she’d save a shit ton on medical expenses, and there’s no big fight in the hospital if something happens to one of you.” Javy added after a moment, “A huge part of why Nat and I got married was so that if a bird strike or G-LOC situation happened again, the other could actually get information from the hospital and make decisions.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “I was thinking about that.”

“I mean, I get it’s a huge commitment, but you’re already having a baby together. Getting married can’t be a bigger commitment than that.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” Jake agreed, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about bringing it up to her.”

“Well, did you at least tell her about your family?”

“Javy—”

“—Jake, you’ve got to tell her.”

“I’m just trying to protect her.”

“Leaving her without all of the information is not protecting her, Jake, it’s setting her up for failure. At least tell her about your mother.”

“Why my mother?”

“Because it explains a lot about you, Jake,” Javy stated, causing him to look down. “And she likes you, for some reason.”

“Fuck off,” Jake sighed, reaching for his beer. Taking a long sip, he set the bottle down and rotated it around, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her about it. When the time’s right.”

~~~~~

You woke late on Saturday. You were never an early riser before but pregnancy made waking up early on the weekend impossible. Picking your head off of your pregnancy pillow, which Jake bought for you, you turned to see that Jake was gone, as usual.

But when you saw a note on his pillow, you sat up. You picked it up and unfolded the paper, smiling to yourself when you saw Jake’s handwriting.

Get your rest because I made plans for us tonight. I still owe you that first date.

- J

Practically beaming with joy, you laid back down, thinking to yourself about what Jake could have had planned for tonight. You assumed dinner, at least, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about where he would take you on a date. As you were rereading the note, you heard the front door open and Jake step inside. You waited for him to walk into the bedroom and smiled at him.

“Morning. How was your run?”

“Fine. Took a new route through the park,” Jake replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. Moving your shirt out of the way, he pressed another kiss to your bump. “Any movement this morning?”

“Not yet,” you replied, running a hand through Jake’s hair as you smiled softly m. “They only start to move when it’s inconvenient for me.”

“Yeah, that’s my baby in there,” Jake joked, causing you to shake your head at him.

“So, what are we doing later then?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jake stated, getting off of the bed. “I was thinking that we should leave here around five.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything about it?”

“Dress nicely but nothing crazy. And just make sure that you’re comfortable.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” you called after him as he walked into the bathroom to shower.

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

You scoffed at his words as he closed the door. Laying down, you decided to stay in bed a little longer as Jake showered. But you sat up when you felt your baby start to move right over your bladder. It started as a little bit of a tickle and then some more discomfort and then you were shifting around, trying to find some sort of relief, and then you were frantically knocking on the door to the bathroom and letting yourself in.

Jake turned his neck, staring at you with concern and a question on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw you making a beeline for the toilet, he had the audacity to smirk a bit. You shot him a look right back.

“The baby’s moving?” he guessed, letting the hot spray of the shower hit his chest.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to concentrate.”

~~~~~

You checked your appearance one last time in the mirror before you grabbed your phone and walked out of the bathroom. Jake was sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for you, dressed in a nice button down tee shirt and a pair of black pants. When you stepped around the corner, he looked up and you instantly felt your cheeks warm as his expression changed and his sharp green eyes studied your figure.

“Does the dress make my boobs pop out too much?” you asked, adjusting the strap a bit subconsciously. “Or is it too nice? Or not nice enough?”

“You look perfect,” Jake told you, standing up and sliding his phone into his back pocket. He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Ready to go?”

You nodded and Jake led you down to the car. Jake drove your car when the two of you were going somewhere because it was easier for you to get into compared to his truck. And he insisted that it was safer for you to sit in the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” you asked Jake, who smiled at you before turning back to the road.

“It’s a surprise.”

“How far is it?” you asked, shifting in your seat.

“It’s not too far.”

Jake drove a few more minutes before pulling into a long driveway. And even though you recognized the name at the entrance to the driveway, it still took you a moment to process it.

“Why did you bring me to the place where Bradley and Emma’s wedding reception was?” you asked softly, more surprised than anything else.

“Well, when it’s not just for hosting weddings. There’s a regular restaurant attached to it.” Jake pulled into a spot before turning off the car. “And this is where we met for the first time.” Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he turned back to you. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, it is,” you reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, let’s go,” you insisted, grabbing your purse.

The two of you walked inside and were led to your table, which just happened to be on the back patio. You could see the outdoor bar where you and Jake met for the first time from your seat. Had anyone told you that little conversation on those two stools was going to change your life forever, you never would have believed them.

“You know, I’ve already made a list of everything I want to eat or drink after I have the baby,” you stated, flipping through the menu.

“What are the top three?”

“Beer, salmon rolls, and pepperoni,” you listed off quickly, causing Jake to snort.

“All in one sitting?”

“We’ll see how I’m feeling,” you mused, reaching for your water. The waiter came over and took your orders before walking off again. “Emma called me today and mentioned something about throwing a baby shower for us next month. Or a little after that.”

“Do the dads go to that?” Jake asked, causing you to shrug your shoulders.

“I think we can just do whatever we want. I know that when one of the Kazansky kids had their baby shower, the guys went out and did something together but then they came back and everyone ate together.”

“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” Jake offered, causing you to smile.

“Thank you. But Emma and Phoenix seem like they’ve got it handled. They said it’s returning the favor for me being their maid of honor. And I kind of agreed to let them make it all a surprise.”

“We’re not doing some crazy gender reveal thing, right?” Jake deadpanned.

“No, I told them to not do that,” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Folding your hands in front of your bump, you asked, “But you’re okay with waiting still? To find out?”

“The baby’s healthy and you’re healthy and that’s all I care about,” Jake stated seriously. “And it’s not like we can control it either.”

“No, we can’t,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “But what do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Jake lied, earning a look from you. “Alright, alright, I have. But what do you think we’re having?”

“No, because you’re just going to copy me to try and make me happy, even though I don’t care because we’re just guessing at this point and no one can do anything to change it and it doesn’t even matter at the end of the day.” Leaning forward, you added with a smile, “Just tell me, Jake.”

“I think we’re having a girl,” Jake stated quietly after a moment of thought.

“I thought we were too, but then the obstetrician moved the monitor during the ultrasound and now I think that we’re having a boy,” you explained, causing Jake to think about it more. “Like she saw something there and moved it away before it was too obvious.”

“Maybe,” Jake agreed. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He took a sip of his drink before leaning forward with a teasing smile. You cocked an eyebrow as you buttered your slice of bread, shooting him a look right back.

“How are you feeling now? Feel the need to walk in on me in the shower again? Because next time, you can just join me. No need to put on a show about it.”

You scoffed and tossed the crumpled up straw wrapper at Jake in retaliation. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward and lowered your voice.

“Says the man who’s been glancing down at my chest ever since I stepped out of our bedroom.”

“I’m looking at your bump where our child is growing,” Jake insisted seriously, causing your smirk to fade and a sheepish expression to come over your face. “But, my eyes have been taking a pit stop between your bump and your eyes because that dress does make your breasts look perfect.”

You lightly kicked him under the table in retaliation, causing him to laugh. The two of you enjoyed your dinner together and talked all about your plans for the future and the baby. It was a first date on paper, but it was obvious to anyone who looked over at you that there was a long history and strong understanding between the two of you. Jake paid the tab—though you tried to grab it from him—before the two of you got up and walked out to the parking lot.

“So, what do you think?” Jake asked as the two of you threaded your fingers together and slowly swung your hands back and forth. “Will I get a second date?”

“I’ll think about it,” you joked, leaning on Jake as you walked.

“You’ll think about it?” Jake repeated as the two of you got closer to your car.

“Well, it’s only the first date,” you added, shrugging your shoulders and laughing to yourself when you saw Jake’s offended look. “Maybe if you’re a decent kisser, I’ll think about it a little more.”

“Is that a challenge?” Jake asked, gently reaching up to cup your cheek.

“It could be.”

Jake leaned down and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. He started slowly, teasing you like you teased him a moment ago. And when you started to press against him, deepening the kiss, you could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your lips. Pulling back from your lips, and leaving you wanting more, Jake took a step back.

“And my chances now?”

“I guess I can give you a second date,” you replied before grabbing Jake by the front of his shirt.

Your lips met again and Jake rested his hand on your hips, gently backing you up against your car. He rubbed his hand over the front of your bump before raising it to cup your cheek, purposefully brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of the valley between your breasts. And feeling you suck in a breath and press against him further, Jake pulled your lips apart and rested his forehead against your own.

“Any chance that we can continue this back at the apartment?” Jake whispered against your lips.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, before smirking to yourself. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.

“I have this rule,” you teased, leaning back against your car, “that I can’t sleep with a guy after the first date. It’s nothing personal, just one of my rules.”

“And if the guy already got you pregnant? Can you make an exception?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, running a hand down his chest.

You held him in suspense for a moment, even though you honestly wouldn’t have minded if he slid your underwear to the side and done it against your car right then and there. And even though you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted him. You needed him.

Placing your hand over his own, you offered him a genuine, loving smile. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Take me to bed, Jake,” you whispered to him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the two of you eventually got back to your shared apartment, you let Jake pull you down the hall and into your bedroom. The two of you gently undressed each other before Jake helped you up and onto the bed.

“You’re not going to be comfortable on your back, are you?” Jake asked as you sat back on your heels.

“Probably not for long,” you agreed as Jake climbed up onto the bed too.

“Then come here,” Jake coaxed, laying on his back.

You crawled over and Jake grabbed your hips, lining the two of you up. Your bump, which wasn’t so small anymore, rested against Jake’s strong chest.

“Tell me if anything hurts or isn’t comfortable and we’ll stop, okay?” he assured you.

“Okay.”

You let out a shaky gasp as Jake pulled your hips down. His hands were strong on your hips and he welcomed the rock of your hips against him. You were a bit worried about suffocating Jake and tried to hold up your weight, but he didn’t slow down until you practically collapsed against his chest.

Jake gently rolled you onto your side and laid down beside you, gently running his fingers down your cheek. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and offered him a giddy smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, Jake,” you giggled, “I’m better than alright.”

“I haven’t lost my touch then?”

“Not yet,” you mused, pressing a romantic kiss to his lips.

After taking a moment to recover, you sat up and climbed onto his lap. Jake rested his back against the headboard, letting you set your own pace with his hands there to support you. As your rhythm started to slow until you could only rock your hips, Jake gently rotated the two of you so that your bump rested against a pillow and your weight rested on your hands and knees before he sat up behind you.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jake told you.

“It’s not enough right now,” you practically whined, pushing back against him.

Jake rolled his hips forward as his lips pressed a searing kiss against your neck, causing you to moan. The two of you quickly lost yourselves in each other until your body tensed up again. You buried your face into the comforter as your body shook. Jake kept moving above you for a few more moments before he let out a low noise and rolled over beside you.

You smiled at him as he laid down and caught his breath. Your eyes fluttered softly in the dim lighting as curled your body into Jake’s warm chest. He could see that you were exhausted and were probably about to fall asleep. Jake leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You should go to the bathroom first before you fall asleep,” Jake suggested, causing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “I can clean up otherwise.”

“Let my legs recover for a second, Seresin. Unless, you want a Bambi on ice situation.”

Jake snorted in reply, causing you to smile.

~~~~~

When Jake got called into Cyclone’s office after completing his training exercises, Jake knew that meant two things—he either fucked up or he did something incredibly amazing. And he couldn’t think of anything that he fucked up lately, so he was hoping that the latter was true.

“Sir,” he greeted Cyclone, standing at attention.

“At ease, Hangman. Please, sit,” Cyclone stated, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

Jake sat down and stared at Cyclone, who seemed relatively at ease. He shifted a few papers around his desk before picking up a folder. Cyclone held it out to Jake, who immediately flipped it open, reading through the documents enclosed.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Seresin,” Cyclone replied, causing Jake to look up from the paperwork. His expression didn’t give away any emotion, but internally Jake was swelling with pride and joy. “It’s well deserved and I’m sure that you’ll do well in your new role.”

“And I’m to remain here?” Jake asked, looking quickly through the papers. “In Miramar?”

“Yes, you will,” Cyclone replied, allowing Jake to relax for a moment. But only for one moment. “Though, I should warn you that your chance of being deployed in the next few months has slightly increased.”

“How slight?”

“I would say guaranteed at some point within the next six months,” Cyclone answered honestly, causing Jake’s joy to disappear in a flash. “Not that it would be for an extended deployment, but you’ll certainly be on a short list, Hangman.”

“I understand, sir,” he stated, looking down at his paperwork.

A note of silence passed between them and Cyclone leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him. Glancing at photos of his own family, Cyclone turned back to Hangman, who was reading through the paperwork in front of him.

“Hondo tells me that your girlfriend is expecting,” Cyclone continued, causing Jake to nod in confirmation, though he kept his gaze focused on the paperwork. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I wish that I could offer you a guarantee, Hangman. Any sort of guarantee.”

“That’s not the industry that we’re in, sir,” Jake replied simply, picking his head up. “I understand that. She understands that.”

“The promotion ceremony is in two weeks. Saturday,” Cyclone responded after a few moments. “I look forward to meeting her then.”

“Yes, sir.”

~~~~~

You walked into your and Jake’s apartment building, and stopped to grab your mail. Unlocking the small mailbox, you pulled the door open and grabbed the small batch of envelopes. You walked over to the elevator as you flipped through them, mentally organizing them.

Bill. Spam. Spam. Bill. More spam. Even more spam. And . . .

You paused, looking at the last envelope. It was blue and shaped like a card, though it wasn’t close to either of your birthdays. Flipping it over, you paused when you saw that the return address was in Texas. And the name Georgia Seresin had to be Jake’s mom’s name, wouldn’t it?

Jake got a card from his mom.

Though you thought it was weird, especially because Jake swore up and down that he didn’t talk to his parents, you brushed it off. It wasn’t addressed to you, so it wasn’t yours to open. You would just tell Jake about it when he got home.

Taking the elevator up, you headed into your apartment. Setting the mail down in the corner, you walked over to the couch and flopped down, exhausted from your day. Turning on the fan that Jake set up on the coffee table for you, you laid down and scrolled through your phone.

And then promptly fell asleep a minute later.

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bussyslayer333 · 1 year

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1. Take me to your best friend’s house

summary: jake’s back home on leave, restless without his friends to keep him company, until you arrive that is.

pairing: best friend’s brother jake seresin x fem!reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings: swearing, one mention of alcohol, small amount of smut and heavy sexual tension heheh

drive me wild

Jake is antsy.

It’s his last week of leave and he’s staying back at his parents house in Texas. He’s been there for two weeks already, spending quality time with his older sisters and their kids.

He loves them all. Truly. But he’s been dying to beat Javy at a game of darts again, or drink the beer he actually likes, or actually sleep with a woman instead of jerking off in the shower like he’s 14 again.

Jake loves his family. But he also loves his space. Which he was not currently experiencing as his 3 year old niece Ellie climbs her way around his torso.

He can hear his mother chatting animatedly away on the phone in the room over, only mildly blocking out the loud snores coming from his father’s sleeping form in his arm chair across the room.

Jake’s mother enters the room just as Ellie makes an unfortunate misstep in her climbing.

“Fuck!” Jake groans.

“Jacob!”

Shit.

Jake looks to Ellie who is now flopped on the sofa next to him, giggling evilly.

He pleads with her with his eyes, trying to pout sadly through his pain. Just as he thinks he’s gotten away with it, his oldest sister Emma pops her head round the door.

“You want some juice, baby?” She questions to Ellie.

“Fuck!” She squeals, laughing and grabbing at Jake again.

Jake looks to Emma apologetically, she’s already seething. Lucky for Jake, his mom has already sensed the bubbling tension and decides to finally announce what she had entered the room to say.

“Addy and her friend are going to be here soon!” She smiles.

Addison and her friend. Two more people in the house. Great.

Truthfully, Jake was excited to see Addy, but he also felt guilty. It’s spring break of her third year at UCLA and he’s only really seen her at christmas and easter for the past few years. She’s only a two hour drive away from San Diego, but he never seems to find the time to do it.

Before he can spiral too much into older brother guilt, his dad awakes from his slumber from the commotion in the room.

“Huh?” He mumbles blearily.

Emma laughs, coming to sit down next to Jake and pulling Ellie into her lap.

“Addy and her friend Dad, they’re going to be here soon.”

“Yeah I know that,” he mumbles, still half asleep.

The doorbell goes, interrupting what Jake’s mother was about to say. She springs up and looks to Jake expectantly.

“Come help with the bags!”

Jake grumbles, pushing himself up from where he’d been sat on the couch. His mother sends him a pointed glare, shutting him up immediately. She could be scary when she wanted.

When he finally makes it to the entryway, the door is already open and his mom is making a fuss of someone he can’t see. Addy is stood next to you, dropping her bags on the floor loudly.

“Hey freak.” She supplies smirking at Jake.

“Hey dipshit.” He retorts.

She runs over quickly, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He ruffles her hair lightly and moves back over to where his mom is standing, surrounded by bags.

“We’re so glad to have you here darlin’!” his mom smiles down at you, stroking your arm comfortingly.

“But still, thank you, seriously,” you reply, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

His mom shakes her head and moves to the side finally to talk to Addy, allowing him to get a good look at you.

The first thing that registers in Jake’s mind is how goddamn beautiful you are, the second thing is that you’re staring straight back at him with a coy smile on your face.

“You must be the mysterious Jake,” you tease, stepping closer to Jake.

He laughs, “mysterious?”

You seem to inch even closer, Jake can smell your sweet perfume. Vanilla. It’s intoxicating.

“Addy talks about you a lot. It’s great to finally meet you.” You supply.

“Likewise,” he smirks, giving you a once over.

Jake revels in the way you flush under his gaze, hands fiddling with the hem of your short skirt. Before he can attempt to charm you further, Addy interrupts once again.

“Chop, chop bell boy! These bags aren’t gonna move themselves!”

Suddenly, he remembers why he doesn’t visit her.

Jake rolls his eyes and looks back to you, “Which ones are your bags?”

You point to a large blue duffel bag on the floor and a smaller backpack beside it,

“You don’t have to-”

Jake already has both your bags in his hands and is motioning to the tote bag on your shoulder.

“Nonsense, pretty girls shouldn’t have to carry anything.” He flirts, southern drawl heavy on his tongue.

You giggle whilst Addy gags from beside you,

“Can you stop being a fuckboy for five seconds?” She whines.

Jake scoffs and flips her the bird, “carry your own bags.”

Addy retaliates with her own middle finger and huffs, “Come on babe, I’ll show you your room.”

Addy grabs your hand and drags you towards the staircase, pulling you up towards the guest room.

Jake watches from the bottom of the stairs as he catches a glimpse of the pink lace underneath your fluttering skirt. He gulps and reverts his eyes back up in time to catch your shooting a wink at him before Addy pulls you around the corner.

Jake’s pillows are soft, and the temperature in his room is perfect. So he can’t really understand why he isn’t asleep.

That’s a lie.

He just doesn’t want to admit it to himself.

Every time he closes his eyes, Jake’s mind begins to wander to you. The way you smile at him, and the way you smelled, the way your eyes lit up when his other niece May called you pretty. Of course your tiny clothes and knowing what your underwear looked like aided to his mental images, but he had the excuse that at least it wasn’t all that.

He wondered if you knew the affect you already had on him. Surely you did, he tried to rationalise, the wink for god’s sake.

Jake tried to fight the hand that was slowly inching its way down his chest towards his aching cock, but he was weak. The first stroke of his hand had him whimpering, Jake is pretty sure he hasn’t ever been this hard in his life.

He tries to start off slow, thinking about the way you pulled your hair up into a loose ponytail at dinner, the silky span of skin that was exposed making him sweat. That’s when he realised taking it slow was pointless. Jake strokes himself fast, thrusting his hips up into his palm. His breath is shallow and harsh, trying to hold in any incriminating sound he could make. He’d like to imagine that you’re in the same position, whimpering on the bed in the guest room that was just across the hallway from his, pumping your fingers in and out of your cunt thinking about him.

How was he to know he wasn’t wrong?

Jake is close, hips stuttering after each movement of his hand. He imagines you on your knees for him, wide eyes staring up at him, your glossy lips parted begging for him, whining,

“please, Jake-”

And that does it for him, cum spurting out of his cock down onto his hand and chest. His breaths are ragged and heaving. The sticky sheen of sweat on his body becomes uncomfortable and the mess of cum is just a reminder of his predicament.

He uses the tissues on his bedside table (shout-out horny teenage Jake) to wipe away his drying spend, but he still feels unclean.

Deciding the only way to remedy this, Jake moves to get up from his bed and heads towards the door. If he’s quiet he presumes he can make it to the bathroom and back without waking anyone. He shuts his door behind him carefully, wincing as it clicks shut.

He only makes it a few steps across the floor before something bumps into his solid chest. Jake looks down to see you staring at him with eyes widened in surprise. His body is warm against yours, stood half naked in front of you clad only in his boxers.

If you thought Jake was handsome with his clothes on, the attraction had just tripled. The hard plains of his chest and sprinkling of hair that ran down his abs had you salivating slightly. You clear your throat and look back up to his eyes,

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you smile sheepishly up at the man.

Jake thinks this must be a cruel joke. The way you’re staring up at him in a thin tank top and shorts that could be declared glorified panties. He doesn’t know whether he should curse or thank God.

“It’s okay sugar,” he drawls, watching as you keen slightly more into him.

You place a hand onto his chest, feeling emboldened by his words,

“I was just going to get a glass of water,” you whisper, dragging your hand down further.

Jake watches in horror as you look down and catch sight of his semi pressing against the fabric of his boxers.

“I’m real thirsty,” you continue with a smirk.

Your hand trails down his chest hair towards the band of his boxers, toying with the elastic.

“Jake?”

“Mhm,” he affirms.

“Do you want me?”

Jake looks into your wide eyes and nods quickly, awestruck.

You giggle and retreat your hand from him.

“Good to know.”

You slip past him quickly, heading towards the stairs. Jake unabashedly watches the way your ass moves until you’re out of his line of sight. He exhales and pinches at the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck.”

The next morning at breakfast, Jake is sat opposite you. You’ve not exchanged many words apart from a polite “good morning” or “how did you sleep?”.

Jake can feel your gaze on him whenever Addy’s sentences run on too long. He feels excited for the first time in weeks. A dampener on his mood however, is his sister Josie.

She’s only two years older than him, they’re the closest out of all the siblings, and she can read him like a kids book. It’s usually nice, Jake always feels like she understands him. Now however, it’s pissing him off.

“What is wrong with you?” he snaps once they’re in the kitchen and out of earshot.

Josie snorts, “I feel like I should be asking you that!”

Jake rolls his eyes, deciding to play nonchalant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop eye fucking Addy’s friend!”

Jake’s eyes widen and Josie’s exclamation, he motions to shush her out of fear of anyone else hearing.

“I am not!”

Josie rolls her eyes with such familiarity it’s painful, “you’re looking at her like you used to look at Miss Mayfield in ninth grade.”

Jake scoffs at the memory of his freshmen year english teacher.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sensing they weren’t going to get anywhere with their conversation, Josie decides to take a different approach.

“Look Jakey, just think about Addy. Please?”

Jake rolls his eyes, and is about to retort when the kitchen door opens.

“Oh! Sorry, your mom just asked me to get the juice?” You smile, sweeter than ever.

Josie watches unimpressed, as Jake quickly retrieves the juice for you, hand lingering on yours as he passes it over.

“Here you go, sugar.” He croons.

“Thanks, Jake,” you place emphasis on his name before you saunter off, hips swaying.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, Josie laughs. Loud.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jake laughs nervously, “what?”

“We’re too old for this shit.” She states, moving past Jake to join everyone in the dining room again.

next part

a/n: first part done 😰😰😰 I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS

they will be getting it on next chapter dw hehehe

i’m not sure how many parts to plan on but you can probably expect at least 10 !!

as always pls comment, reblog or send me an ask and tell me what u think!!

ty for reading :)

- honey <333

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writingjourney · 1 year

Text

5 types of christmas kisses with copia (+1) | cardinal copia x reader

summary: you and the cardinal have been tiptoeing around each other for a while now – it’s time to let the festive spirit do the rest.

content: ~8k words, absolute fluff, like… tooth-rotting fluff with festive sprinkles on top, fem!reader bc I used the female declinations for the Italian, it's not over the top christmassy

(And yes it’s 5 kissy kisses – on the mouth. The rest is for FREE!)

Have yourselves a merry little Christmas fic ♡

Ao3 link – Masterlist

1 The First Kiss

The abbey is empty.

Well, technically that is a lie. But it feels empty. Yuletide approached fast this year. Half the siblings have left to visit family or friends and join their loved ones in their celebrations, whatever that may look like for them. Of course there are still many people here who choose not to see their families, who don’t have safe spaces outside of the abbey or who just want to celebrate here. Nevertheless, the halls are never as empty as during this time of year.

It’s a peaceful, pensive sort of quiet and, for the most part, you adore it.

Strolling through the corridors of the old building you shiver whenever a chill draught hits you. You can’t wait to reach the reading room, plop down in front of the fireplace and continue your read of Emma. Ever since the cold set in you’re beginning to understand Mr Woodhouse – avoiding to get a cold in an old stone building seems to be an impossible feat, runny noses and scratchy throats a constant nuisance. On your way past the library you barely hear a sound. Some Siblings are still bustling about outside, setting up stalls for the upcoming Winter Market, celebrating the Solstice with music, hot drinks and sweet treats.

You open the door to your favorite reading room but instead of the usual quiet you’re met with an already crackling fire and a familiar figure perched in the old leather armchair right in front of it. The other tables and chairs in the room are deserted.

“Oh.” The sound is involuntary. You did not expect to see the Cardinal tonight and suddenly you feel not only very self-conscious but a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of emotions his presence is causing you.

„Sister,“ he says, startled, looking up from the book in his hands.

„I’m so sorry… I didn’t think anyone would be here.“

“Oh, don’t be. There is enough room for us both in here, eh? Come sit by the fire with me. We have not seen each other today.”

As you step closer he makes to stand and you just know he’s going to offer you the armchair, the only properly comfortable reading spot in the room. You could not accept it, not when he was here first, when sitting on the floor would cause him so much more discomfort than you. “Please, stay seated, Cardinal. I will just sit down right beside you on the carpet.”

“No, no, I cannot–”

“Please,” you try again. “I actually prefer being closer to the fire and the carpet is soft.”

The reluctance doesn’t leave his face as he sits back, watches you crouching down next to him. You let the warmth of the fire seep into you as you lean against the armchair and after another few seconds you rest your head against the Cardinal’s knee.

“Are you sure this is okay, sister?”

“It’s perfectly fine, don’t worry.”

You open your book, finally start reading as you continue to slowly defrost. After a few minutes you’re completely comfortable, lost somewhere in Highbury with Emma and Harriet. You aren’t wearing your head piece today, having opted for a proper hat when you were working outside in the cold earlier. So you’re somewhat caught by surprise when you suddenly feel a hand in your hair. An ungloved hand. The Cardinal doesn’t say anything, just runs his fingers through the strands with utmost care.

You turn to him and when his eyes meet yours he looks as though he only just realised that he did it, a tinge of red crawling up his neck.

“Oh, uh… mi scusi tanto,” he says, voice slightly shaky. “I mean, I didn’t… there was a stray hair…”

You swear your cheeks are the color of his crimson cassock. “It’s… it’s okay, it felt nice.”

“It did?”

“Yes. Very.”

He nods, lips tightly pressed together but you see them trembling anyway. You force yourself to look back at your book, scared that you embarrassed him, but then his hand finds back into your hair and he continues scratching your scalp very gently. You wonder if your hair is soft, if it feels nice against his bare fingertips and, more worryingly, if he can somehow feel your rapid heartbeat. Needless to say you can’t focus on Jane Austen for the life of you, not when you have your very own romantic hero right beside you, giving you the goosebumps of a lifetime.

“Cara,” he says after a while.

“Hm?”

You look up at him, only to find him observing you with his mismatched eyes, a warm tint to both of them as they reflect the orange light of the fire. “I don’t know about you but I don’t think I can focus on reading right now. I think I would rather talk with you.”

He must have seen that you didn’t flip the page, you realise. Did he flip his? Before you can find an answer he slides down the armchair, plopping down right next to you on the floor. Your breath catches, rendering you speechless. His face is now so close to yours that you can count each individual freckle and it’s so tempting to stare. He is so very handsome, so stunningly beautiful.

“I am glad we always seem to find each other,” he says. “Even without trying.”

You smile. “I agree, Cardinal.”

“I told you to call me Copia, when we’re alone, cara mia.”

“I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.” You chuckle, trying not to stare at him too hard. “Are you looking forward to the Solstice, Copia?”

“Sì, sì, very much. Are you?”

You relish in the way he clings to your every word, the way he will always return the question, coax more words out of you just to hear you talk. This is not the first time you’re alone with him – by now you like to think of him as something of close friend, even though it’s not the right word at all. For the past few months encounters like this one have been a regular occurrence – reading together in the library, finding into easy-going conversations about your respective days, little chats in his office here and there after you dropped of some documents for him, sometimes even eating dinner together in the refectory when he was not too busy. Most of the time you just naturally gravitated towards each other, even without planning your meetings.

“I am looking forward to it very much,” you reply, barely hiding your excitement. “I can’t wait to have some mulled wine and candy and just watch everyone be happy.”

There is always this magnetic pull you feel in his proximity – every eye contact, every touch, no matter how innocent, accompanied by a vivid sense of longing for him. You can’t deny that you’re harbouring an intense crush. It’s the very reason why the word friend is such an ill fit. He is so much more.

“That is what I look forward to as well,” he agrees, just as unable to look away. “I especially hope to see you happy, cara mia.”

You’re cheeks are burning, from the fire or your blush or maybe even both. “Do you?”

He only nods, caught in a similar fluster. The ungloved hand you felt in your hair earlier now reaches for your face. You almost expect to feel a chill, but his skin is warm, soft fingertips gliding over your face, mapping it, tracing every curve like you’re a statue and he’s the sculptor.

This time you can’t fight the pull, but you get caught up in its currents. You lean in and he does the same and then your mouths meet somewhere in the middle.

It’s a little awkward at first. You go in with too little and he goes in with too much pressure and your noses bump against each other twice when you attempt to adjust. It quickly evens out, his fingers find your jaw, angling your face just right, and then suddenly it’s all warmth and whimpers. His mouth moves against yours gently, his moustache tickling your upper lip. You don’t even care that you’re losing your page as the book slides from your lap, your whole body angling towards his.

It isn’t the passionate, fiery kind of first kiss that you always imagine late at night when you’re so filled with longing for him that it hurts. It’s the kind of first kiss you imagine when you see him somewhere around the abbey, when the mere sight of him knocks the wind out of you, when you struggle to form words in his proximity, still in hopes that something might happen.

When he lets you go you take a shaky breath. You let your suddenly very heavy body fall against the armchair, covering half of your crimson face with your arm, a stupid smile on your face. Copia still looks at you, inhales deeply with a similar sort of smile on his lips. You continue to sit there, grinning at each other with not a single word uttered, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

2 The Comforting Kiss

No matter how happy you are to be here at the abbey, to have found a home, Winter is always a particularly heavy time. Grief gnaws its way into your heart, not just for the people you lost but for long abandoned parts of yourself. It’s a weighty sense of loss for everything that you can never get back, a bittersweet melancholy that is woven through every occurring thought.

At the same time, and not less intensely, you feel grateful for the people you found here – friends and mentors. And… lovers. A lover. Perhaps, if things go well.

The Cardinal treats you like gold dust, like you’re so precious he needs to tread lightly, and you love that mindfulness about him. But it also means he’s been taking things awfully slow. Ever since your first kiss in the reading room not much has happened – at least no more kisses. You met, you spend time together, but you can’t call it dating. There has not been a proper date, no spoken agreement that this is what you’re doing. You’ve exchanged soft touches and whispered words of mutual adoration. No big words, just small, gentle affirmations – a “You look beautiful today” here, an “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day” there. They don’t blare out your affection for each other, but they whisper softly. And it makes you more in love with him every single day.

If only you knew if he felt the same way or if his hesitation stems from uncertainty.

“You are lost in thoughts today, mia bambina.”

You look up at Primo’s face, meeting his worried expression with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry, Papa. I suppose I am a little distracted.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain… Cardinale… would it?”

There is no fooling him, by now he knows you too well from working in the gardens all spring and summer. “He… may be one of the reasons.”

You’re helping Primo with decorating some of the trees today and it’s a welcome distraction from your more melancholic thoughts. Christmas, Yule, the Winter Solstice celebration – whatever you choose to call it – is kept very neutral here. Anyone is welcome to make propositions, to bring in the customs and traditions that they most cherish, and make them their own. You asked Primo about decorating the trees with lights and a few ornaments made by crafty siblings. It’s an easy way to light up the grounds for the upcoming Winter Market and make it all so much prettier.

“Speaking of your amore…”

“Oh he’s not my–“

You stop as you spot the Cardinal, trailing the familiar shape of his body all the way from the abbey to the entrance of the gardens. He’s clearly on a mission, determined movements, a brisk sort of walk, and... Oh Satan, is he looking for you?

All it takes is Primo yelling Cardinale! for him to whip around, facing your direction. He waves as he spots you, a little awkwardly, like he’s scared you won’t wave back. But of course you do and his hand gets steadier as he shakes it two more times, a timid smile on his handsome face.

“I will leave you to it,” Primo says with a knowing look and you smile as he carefully makes his way back inside. He greets the Cardinal in passing who half-bows in return and they exchange a few words in Italian that you don’t quite catch. You use the time to smooth out your hair, clean your palms on the dark wool of your coat.

When the Cardinal finally approaches, his red cassock is a bright contrast to the shiny white snow all around you. He’s wearing a matching robe on top, for more warmth.

“Hi, hello,” he says. Then he takes your hand in both of his, shaking it delicately. “Good to see you.”

You smile at him. “It’s so good to see you, too. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy all day.”

“Oh no need to be sorry.” He glances around. “The… uh… the trees, they look very beautiful.”

You can’t help but beam at him. “Thank you, we spent all day decorating them.”

He smiles affectionately, hand still clasping yours, but then he suddenly frowns and takes off one of his gloves. Your heart stutters at the skin contact, at the contrast between his warmth and your cold. Not that he notices your reaction. “Your hand is freezing, cara mia.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I had gloves but I took them off because they bothered me.”

He tsks, shaking his head in mild scorn. “Where are these gloves you speak of?”

“I think I left them… ugh…” You look around. “Maybe at the entrance gate?”

“That won’t do, no.” He shakes his head again, more rapidly this time. “I can’t have your pretty hands freezing off.”

Pretty hands? You can’t dwell on his words because he’s already yanking his second glove off his hand. In contrast to these harsh movements he is so heartbreakingly gentle as he slides them onto your hands, carefully fiddling with your fingers until they’re all covered in warm leather.

“There, così va molto meglio.”

“But now your hands will be cold, Cardinal,” you argue.

“Copia,” he corrects. “And I don’t mind. I spent all day inside, you need them more. Are you very cold?”

“A little, but I like the fresh air,” you admit. “Do you want to walk with me before we go inside?”

He nods, following you down the path to the pond. Even from a distance it looks magical, covered in ice crystals and snow. The grounds look like they’re straight out of a fairytale and a few minutes into your walk it starts snowing again.

There is an easy silence between you and Copia as you take in the sight, your steps crunching in the snow covered path. The sun is already setting and you realise that yet another day has passed. The Solstice is almost upon you and then it’s almost New Year’s Eve and you’re starting to wonder how you ended up where you are now. The underlying melancholia is flaring up, all the pain you tried to push away settling in, and your heart sits heavy in your chest. The cold seeps into you, chilling you to your bones.

“Cara,” Copia says, breaking your trance.

You look at him, realise you stopped walking. “Oh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, it’s just…”

You never finish because you’re suddenly busy fighting back tears. You’re not even sure what set it off, why you have to be overwhelmed by your feelings now, when you’re supposed to be overjoyed to be on a walk with your Cardinal. The tears decide to leave your eyes despite your best efforts, rolling down your cheeks in hot, painful trails.

Copia’s eyes widen. “Oh, no no no, non ti posso vedere in lacrime, cara mia.”

His bare hands shoot up to your cheeks and they’re freezing as he cradles your face, thumbs moving in frantic half-circles like wipers on a windshield, trying to catch them before they fall. The snow comes heavier now, thick snowflakes mixing in with your tears as they land on your burning skin.

“Sorry,” you mumble, sniffling. “It’s just a lot.”

“I understand.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Don’t apologise.”

You let him wipe your face clean, his fingertips now not quite so cold anymore.

“Can I…”

You don’t know what he’s asking but nod anyway, desperate for any comfort he’s so eager to provide. Copia kisses your cheeks and you breathe out a sigh at how soft he is, cling to whatever piece of fabric you can reach on his chest. The kisses come in abundance, covering every inch of skin within reach. He moves from your outer cheeks to your nose, so many kisses, lasting for mere seconds while the imprints linger on your skin for way longer. Eventually, he reaches the corners of your mouth and you’re silently praying for him to properly kiss you.

And he answers your prayer. The last kiss finally lands on your lips only that he pulls away just as fast. You feel his warm breath against your skin as he lingers, silently awaits your complaints. When there aren’t any he leans in again, harder this time. Your lips are chapped from being out in the cold all day and yet he kisses them like they’re made of honey, moving his own against them in a languid, careful rhythm. And while your heart is hammering in your ribcage, harder than ever before, your mind is suddenly calm.

Maybe this time of year is not so bad if it means you get to taste snowflakes on Copia’s lips.

When he pulls away, flustered and breathless, he stammers out a whole speech. “I’ve been thinking… I know you are excited for the market, sì? I thought it was a good idea… I mean, only if you don’t have any plans, I thought we could go together?” His eyes are filled with a hesitant hope and you know he’s ready to be rejected, to be laughed at even. “I know maybe you want to go with friends. You have plans already. I understand, of course.”

“No, no.” You smile at him, running your hand up his chest. “I would love to go with you, Copia.”

His whole face lights up. His nose and ears are red from the cold, heavy snowflakes caught in his hair, melting on his lashes and eyebrows, and he looks so adorably sweet, so genuinely happy, that you move in again to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. After you let go he looks more flustered than ever and when you slide your fingers into his, hiding your joined hands in the warmth of your coat pocket, he stumbles after you without a word.

3 The Tipsy Kiss

The abbey is brimming over with mirth, the courtyard filled with festive cheer and drunk laughter – and you? You have swallowed a whole swarm of bees as it seems – caught somewhere between the great happiness and the imminent panic that come with a first date.

Is it even a date?

When the Cardinal picked you up earlier, punctual to the minute, he held a small bouquet of white heathers, some greenery and two bright red roses for you. He must have asked Primo for help because you know the roses were cut from the greenhouse, that this type of floristry is unique to the eldest Emeritus. That the Cardinal would go to such lengths just to surprise you indicates heavily that this is a date, right? The flowers are waiting in your bedroom now and you already know the whole room is going to smell so nice when you get back later.

“Do you want to have a look around?”

You turn to Copia, watch him observe the crowd of people gathered in the courtyard. The market is open for the locals as well – not that too many of them find their way here – and so it’s a busy festival, a night filled with so much potential.

Guiding you into the action, Copia takes your hand. You’re both wearing gloves, no actual skin contact, but it makes your insides tingly all the same.

You try not to freak out internally – and fail miserably.

Holding the Cardinal’s hand in public is not a small thing, it is in fact a very big thing. You already notice the curious glances of a few siblings, whispering or even just blatantly staring. When you pass by some of your friends who are vaguely aware of you infatuation with the Cardinal, one of them gives you a wink, followed by a very distinct hand gesture that you meet with a scowl.

“Are you alright?” Copia asks immediately.

“What?” You look at him, his brows knit together in worry.

“Should I… should I not… uh… hold your hand?”

“Of course you should! I’m sorry, it was just… ugh… my friends.” You’re rambling and he’s still frowning. “I like it, I don’t mind people looking. What I’m saying is – please, don’t let go of my hand.”

The confusion is written all over his face but he nods, squeezes your fingers through the layers of knitwear and leather between you. The gesture immediately calms you down. The last thing you want is for him to think you’re embarrassed or ashamed.

“We should get something to drink, sì?” he asks, perceiving your feelings. “To relax?”

“Yes!”

He smiles, pulling you to the nearest stall that sells all kinds of hot beverages – Glühwein, Glögg, cider, hot chocolate, different kinds of teas and coffee.

You get a steaming mug with the most aromatic mulled wine you ever had, the scent of cinnamon and clove almost overpowering, and then watch Copia struggle to choose for himself.

“The mulled white wine is supposed to be really good, too,” you recommend. “I think they used Italian wine.”

Copia takes your word for it and then you find a small bar table by the side, covered in fresh snowflakes. You really want to hold your mug with both hands so you won’t spill the wine all over your coat, but the prospect of letting his hand go is ghastly. Instead you choose to take the tiniest sips imaginable.

“Do you want to try?”

The words break your sharp focus on not spilling anything and you realise he means his own wine. It’s such an unexpected question, a thing that people do who are very close, proper couples, and you wonder if that is where you are headed now. If he thinks of you like that, if he wants to be that. Maybe that is why tasting his wine feels weirdly intimate – but of course you want to. Not for the taste but for the sake of drinking from the same cup, to feel closer to him in any way that you can, to share with each other.

“It’s really good,” you say, holding out your own cup for him.

It is kind of surreal to watch him take a sip from the exact side that you were drinking from earlier, not worried about germs, no hesitation. Of course you have kissed before, there is no need for this to feel so special.

And yet it does.

“You said you helped prepare, sì?” he asks. “With the food and drinks?”

“Yes, I helped out in the kitchens this morning.”

“So what did you make?”

You raise your brows. “Oh, I made the candied almonds.”

He doesn’t even wait for you to say anything else, just pulls you towards the candy stall right next to your table. The almonds come in small paper cones, still warm and smelling like a saccharine dream. Despite spending all morning preparing them you��re still not tired of their sweet aroma.

He tries them, giving a pleasured sigh that gives you goosebumps. Then he makes the gesture to show that he’s taking his hat off to you. “Dolcezza, they are exquisite.”

You giggle. “Really?”

He takes another handful. “Assoluto. They tickle my taste buds.”

“Maybe it’s because I made them with so much love.”

Copia stops for a second, gazing at you with warm adoration in his eyes. “I am starting to think that all you do is made with love.”

He’s not wrong about it, not since you started spending time with him. And today is so special. You don’t even remember when you last felt so frisky, so unbothered by anything and just happy in the moment. You continue making your round, trying out the different beverages and foods, to the point where you’re not only a little drunk but also high on sugar, laughing together, giggling over silly jokes, and never once letting go of each other’s hands.

A cold wind sets in after a while, somehow clawing its way under all the layers of your clothing. You’re tipsy, maybe even a little needy, so you press yourself into Copia’s side in a half hug, eagerly absorbing his warmth. He feels so solid against you, the smell of cologne and incense and spices lulling you in.

“Are you tired?” Copia asks, wrapping his arm around your shivering form.

“A little,” you admit.

“Let me walk you to your room, cara mia,” he whispers.

“We can stay longer if you want to.”

He shakes his head, squeezing you to his side. “I want to see you safe in your room, eh? That’s what I want.”

Reluctantly you let him lead you back inside, still safely tucked against him. You forgot how many drinks you had but you’re starting to feel their effects now. Your legs feel leaden, every step harder than the previous one all while you continuously fight the urge to giggle every few seconds. You’re not drunk, you tell yourself, you’re very sober and very normal.

Eventually, you arrive in front of your door. Suddenly you’re aware that this means goodbye and you’re not ready at all to let Copia go yet. You let your back fall against the closed door, fiddling with your gloves as you try to read his expression.

He’s tipsy as well, swaying the tiniest bit as he stands in front of you, watching you with his black-rimmed, mismatched eyes. But they’re not dark, not scary, they’re wide and questioning, anticipating your next move.

You both know you’re standing on the precipice, heading somewhere, but the specific destination is yet to be spoken. And you can’t jump until you know.

“So was this… a date, then?” you ask, wine-drunk and giddy and not at all concerned with your bluntness. It’s the question you’ve been mulling over all night.

His eyes widen. “Was it… a date?”

“Mhm.”

“I– ugh…” He pauses, lips pursed. “Do you want it to be?”

“Copia, what do you think?” You can’t help but smile, giggle, bite your lip to keep from full on laughing. “Yes.”

“Yes,” he mimics, staring at your mouth without even hiding it. “Our first date?”

“The very first.”

“Did you like it?” His eyes are still trained on your mouth, on your smile. “Our first date?”

“I loved it.”

“Oh.”

“Copia.”

“Yes, that’s me.”

You giggle again. “You’re so pretty.”

“I’m pretty?”

You remove your gloves, push them into your pocket so you have your hands free. Then you trace the line of his jaw, run your thumb over his left sideburn. “So pretty. Beautiful, even. I can never stop looking at you.”

He’s inching closer, not once glancing away from your lips. “I am nothing compared to you, cara. You are the stars in the sky, you are the sun shining your light on me.”

“Copia–“

Searching hands find your waist, pulling you to him. He inhales, shudders, his voice pleading. “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Your heart explodes, fireworks spreading out in your body at the sheer prospect of it, only intensified by the lingering buzz of the wine. “Yes, please.”

Not a second of hesitation. He hits somewhere close to the corner of your mouth, correcting his position with a few more misplaced kisses until he fully captures your lips, kissing you with reckless abandon. You pull him in, fingers tangling in his hair, and he lets out a pleasured moan, deepening the kiss. It’s the first time you open your mouth for him, the first time he uses the chance to taste you, allowing you to taste him in return. The sweetness of the almonds still linger on his tongue. It’s intoxicating. Your mind is veiled in clouds of lust and affection, a sugary high unrivalled by any actual candy.

You lose track of time. He leans into you, basically caging you against the door, and you kiss for what feels like eternity constrained to seconds. Your dulled senses are completely captured by him and when he eventually breaks away you need a moment to reorient yourself.

“We should… uhm…” His mind clearly stumbles over his words just like yours struggles to understand what he’s saying. Eventually he licks his lips and sighs. “Merda, ti voglio così tanto.”

Still breathless, you only gape at his mouth. His lips are red, plump bottom lip wet and swollen and you’re so kiss-drunk, so desperate for more. But you’re also dizzy and you know it’s not a good idea to continue any of this while you’re both tipsy.

He’s not asking to come in, of course, he would never, not unless you were completely sober. So he pulls you in for a full hug, presses his face into the crook of your neck as he squeezes your body. You can feel him all over you, but there is too much thick, woolen fabric between you to make out the proper shape of his body.

“Good night,” he mumbles against your skin. “Sleep well, mia bella. I will see you tomorrow.”

“I had the best night, Copia. Thank you.”

“Me too, cara mia.” He breaks away, crooked smile on his lips. “You are… you are all I could ever ask for. Perfetta.”

It takes you a few more minutes to finally let go of each other and even then he waves at you as he retreats, almost falling down the stairs that lead to the sibling’s dorms. But you can’t bring yourself to close the door before he’s out of sight and once you do you already miss him.

Fifteen minutes later you’re showered and ready for bed, barely functioning anymore. Opening your bedroom door you’re hit with the scent of roses, the intensely vivid fragrance that only Primo’s flowers carry. When you pull the covers over your head, a cosy warmth blossoms in your chest, and you can’t help but let out an excited little squeal.

He makes you so incredibly happy.

4 The Mistletoe Kiss

Groaning under their weight, you carry two boxes of decorations all the way down the hall, almost stumbling around a corner. You set them down right next to the door that indicates you’ve reached your destination – Copia’s office.

You pause. There is music, the notes pouring out of the gap under the door. For a moment you press your ear to its wooden surface. It just wasn't the same, alone on Christmas day. Presents, what a beautiful sight, don′t mean a thing if you ain't holding me tight. You′re all that I need, underneath the tree. Kelly Clarkson? You realise he’s listening to Christmas music and your heart does a double take. Here’s the man you’re in love with, a Satanic Cardinal preaching the Olde One’s gospel, humming along to christmassy pop songs as he does his unholy paper work. How could you not fall for him?

The song fades out and the next thing you hear is Mariah Carey’s drawl. You decide to knock before anyone catches you eavesdropping, but you don’t get an answer. He clearly doesn’t hear you over the music, so you opt to just let yourself in, grabbing the first of the two boxes.

You kick the door open to avoid dropping it. “Good morning.”

Copia jumps in his chair, pressing the pause button faster than lightening speed.

“Oh, uh… cara.”

You smile. “Why did you turn it off?”

His face turns crimson and he clutches the crucifix on his chest. “Ugh… ehm…”

You understand his embarrassment. From a very superficial perspective he may not exactly be the type of man you’d expect to sing along to Kelly Clarkson and maybe it’s not even what he usually listens to, but it’s Christmas songs – Christmas love songs – and you’re in the perfect mood for that.

“You should never pause Mariah,” you say, walking over to his side to press the button again, turning the volume down just a little so you can still talk. His blush deepens but the up-beat music immediately draws a smile onto both of your faces. “It’s a good song.”

“It’s… it’s not bad,” he agrees. “A classic, which is… which is why I listen to it, of course. The only reason, sì.”

You hide your grin and lean against his desk. “Sooo… I didn’t come to discuss music, actually, but because I realised that we haven’t decorated your office yet.”

Copia furrows his brow, folding his hands in his lap. “Oh, yes… I am not good with these things, cara mia, I don’t know how to make it look nice.”

You take one of his hands, tracing the silver crucifix on his glove. “You spend so much time in this gloomy old room, you should have something to brighten it up during Winter.”

He smirks, lacing your fingers together. “Well, you’re here now.”

The corners of your mouth move upwards involuntarily. “Sadly I can’t be here all day.” He sighs dramatically but you ignore it. “Which is why I brought some things. Help me with the second box?”

Copia jumps up, ever helpful, and follows you to the door. You push it open and hear a sudden tinkling sound. Looking up, you find something that definitely was not there before, something someone must have taken out of your box with brushwood and garlands.

“Looks like someone just did the decorating for us…”

The mistletoe, adorned with two small bells and a bright red bow, sits right over the office door.

“Oh.” Copia caught it as well, eyes widening. “This is a…”

“Mistletoe, yes.”

He smiles. “I know what that means.”

“Do you?”

This time, you’re practiced – and sober.

Copia gently guides you into his frame right under the mistletoe, waits for you to wrap your arms around his neck before he tilts your chin just right. He leans in, kissing you gently at first before he adds more pressure. You’re enraptured by his softness, but if you’re being honest you want more. You’ve been thinking about your tipsy kiss all day yesterday, trying to conjure up his taste. At this point you need it like oxygen. It’s a desperate, overpowering urge, so before he can pull away you trap his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Cara…”

You don’t let him speak but kiss him again, taking over this time. One hand at the back of his neck you pull him in closer and he softly moans into your mouth. You suck at his bottom lip, softly lick over it before pushing your tongue inside. Copia’s grip on your waist tightens and you sigh as you taste him, caressing his tongue with yours. This time there is less sweetness and more of him, traces of coffee from earlier this morning, a hint of chocolate. It’s addicting and if it weren’t for your burning lungs you’d never stop.

When you eventually do break away, huffing out a nervous laugh, you hear a loud attempt at a whistle. Turning around you see Papa Emeritus III standing close to a nearby pillar, waving at Copia with a smirk on his painted face. He lifts two fingers in a peace sign.

“How about you get a room, Cardinale,” he teases and starts rubbing the fingers together.

Before either of you find your words again, he’s already heading off down the hall with a wink.

You remain stunned. “Does Papa know…”

“You wanted to decorate,” Copia says, deeply flustered as he gently turns you around and guides you back towards his office.

“No. I think we need to place that mistletoe somewhere else first,” you grumble, getting up on your tiptoes to remove it, “before you get any other visitors.”

You throw it back into the box, pushing it all the way down, and Copia fails to hide his smile.

5 The Thank You Kiss (+1 extra)

What do you even get a Satanic Cardinal for Christmas?

You’re not exactly sure how you end up carrying a nicely wrapped present into the wing that houses the higher ranking clergy members, wearing an actual festive outfit, hair done nicely, wearing a new perfume you hope he’s going to like. You spent over an hour after mass getting ready and now your nerves are on edge. It feels surreal to be here at all but Copia invited you over for dinner and of course you said yes. Your second date – on Christmas Eve. You both decided to spend the evening together, exchanging small presents and perhaps watch a movie. It sounds chill, you shouldn’t be nervous, and yet you’re so high on adrenaline that you’re trembling.

Approaching the door to his quarters, you notice it’s already open, light streaming into the gloomy hallway. You hear distant voices as you approach. Hesitantly glancing inside, you spy a ghoul in front of a fireplace, Copia standing right next to him.

“Can you get it to burn faster?” he asks. “It’s too cold, I want it to be warm when she gets here. Quick!”

The ghoul sighs in annoyance but you can see the fire kindling under his ministrations.

“You know she’s already here, right?” the ghoul asks.

Copia jumps, eyes flickering over to where you’re leaning in the doorframe, and the ghoul smirks, menacingly sharp teeth shining just below his mask.

“Thank you, you can go,” Copia says to him, ushering him out with rapid hand gestures. “And no comment from any of you tomorrow.”

You let the ghoul pass and close the door, turning to face the person you’re most happy to see in the whole wide world. You can’t help but smile when you notice how perplexed Copia seems by the sight of you. He stands and stares, wringing his hands nervously, eyes roaming your body.

“Oh, cara.” He swallows visibly. “You look bellissima. I can’t believe you’re real and here with me. With me! Che fortunato!”

He strides over, hands finding your shoulders as he leans in to stamp a wet kiss to your cheek.

“And you smell so nice,” he says, holding you for a second longer, nuzzling your neck.

“Thank you,” you whisper, even though it barely registers because he smells incredibly good as well. It’s the cologne you’ve noticed multiple times by now, the one that makes your whole stomach flutter.

When he lets go, smiling, hands rubbing your upper arms, you’re practically melting from all of his attention. He radiates affection this evening.

“You look very handsome,” you try. “It’s so strange to see you without your cassock.”

He’s wearing slacks and a matching black button down with a dark woolen sweater on top, no cassock, no biretta, only the black leather gloves and shoes. It’s rare to see his shape so full on display around here, the black hugging the curves and edges of his body, not covered in layers and layers of heavy fabric. You find it hard not to stare at him.

“Ah, thank you, thank you.” He waves off. “I try, you know.”

“I do know.”

For a second you think he’s going to kiss you, neither one of you ready to move away from each other, but then he laughs nervously and takes your hand, pulling you further into the room. You can tell he’s tense by the way he rambles on and on as he shows you his quarters, keeping your hand in a vice grip. They’re small but you can tell he tidied up for you. First he shows you where he keeps his rats, then where you can find the bathroom. You end up back in front of the fire, still holding his hand.

“I made dinner,” he explains. “So I thought we would eat and then I could give you my present.”

“You made dinner?”

“Uhm… yes. I ugh… I cook. Sometimes. When I have time.” He shrugs, a little hesitant. “It’s edible, I think.”

It’s much more than that.

Dinner is incredible, most of all because he made Italian food instead of a fancy roast, and you eat more than you expect, despite your nerves, just because it’s so incredibly good. He even prepared dessert – the best tiramisu you ever had – and you’re glad you didn’t wear an extremely tight outfit because by the end of it you’re more than full.

Copia is over the moon that you enjoyed it, you can see the proud glint in his eyes as he’s refilling your wine glasses. Adequately supplied with drinks, he offers you a seat on his couch in front of the fire, ready to exchange gifts.

You had agreed on only getting each other a small present, so your options when you spent most of yesterday in town were pretty limited. Copia’s interests are still somewhat of a mystery to you. You know he has a handful of rats, so you went to the pet store to get some treats for them. You also know he likes reading, that he is devoted to his work, that he enjoys watching movies. But you need to figure out the details before you can make more educated presents. So in the end you got him a mug. It’s silly really, but it has a red Cardinal on it (the bird) and says I ❤︎ my local Cardinal. You thought it was sweet, that he might appreciate the irony.

As he unwraps it you get incredibly nervous, palms sweaty and heart racing. It’s a really stupid gift and not at all meaningful. Maybe you should have just bought him a sweater or something more useful. He probably has tons of mugs already, it’s such a common gift. But right as you want to justify yourself, he chuckles and you think hat maybe it’s a genuine reaction. It looks genuine.

Before giving any sort of comment he kisses you, deeply, holding your face in the warm palms of his hand. It doesn’t last very long but you still taste the cocoa powder from dessert on his lips.

He carefully places the mug next to the treats on his coffee table, his other hand never leaving your cheek. “Thank you, cara mia. È veramente perfetto.”

“I was at the pet store and they told me those are treats for rats, I hope it’s okay. I wasn’t sure–“

His thumb moves over your jaw, down to the corner of your mouth. “Oh, don’t worry, dolcezza, they are going to love it. And I love it, too.”

He sports a dazzling smile, one that brings out his crow’s feet, and you finally relax. This is going smoothly, you decide. A relaxed evening, delicious food, a nice short kiss, he even liked your silly little present. Nothing can make you jump out of your seat moving forward.

Or maybe there is something.

“Now, I think it’s my turn,” Copia says and gets up to retrieve your present from the mantelpiece, handing it to you with a slightly theatrical bow.

You can tell he’s nervous by all of his gesturing, by the way he hums to himself as he sits back down next to you. It’s small in size most likely wrapped by the store in fancy red paper and ribbon, glittering all over.

“It’s just a lil sumthin’ sumthin’,” he says.

For some reason you doubt that. Underneath the gift wrap you find a longish velvety box – a jewellery box. “Copia, you shouldn’t have…”

“No, no, look inside.”

The box opens smoothly, revealing a dainty bracelet with with three charms – a C, a small heart and the initial of your first name. Each of them has a tiny white gemstone set in the middle.

“Oh.” You take it out of the box, cradling it in your hand like a long lost treasure. “But… but Copia, that’s not a small present. Why? I don’t–“

He cuts you off. “Because I’m in love with you.”

The words hang heavy in the hair as your mind and heart are trying to catch on. You look at him in mild shock and he stares back, almost in horror, waiting for your reaction. It’s a nervous silence, one he can’t take, and then he just starts to spill it all out.

“I planned to tell you today, it’s why I invited you over. I just had to, cara mia, it’s been on the tip of my tongue so often and keeping it in my chest hurts too much. I want you to know, even if you don’t feel the same.” He rambles on and on, very clearly expecting you to turn him down. “It’s okay, you don’t have to reply. Io capisco, so che è molto da digerire.”

“Copia,” you say but he goes on in rapid Italian. You reach for his hand, squeeze until he stops. “Copia, I’m in love with you, too.”

He gapes at you, eyes wide and fearful, taking a shuddering breath. “Non giocare con i miei sentimenti, cara mia.”

“I would never lie to you, Copia. It’s true. I’m in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” He laughs but it’s not a humorous laugh, it’s an incredulous one. “But I am just an old man and you are young and beautiful and kind and smart. You can have anyone, dolcezza. Are you sure you want this? You want me?”

“I want to be with you, Copia. It’s all I want.”

He grins, the weight lifted off his chest, and pulls you into his side so he can kiss your head. “You are the greatest gift I ever received, amore.”

“Help me with the bracelet?” you ask, handing it to him with a wonky smile..

His hands are shaking just as hard as yours as he reaches for the delicate trinket. All in all it takes him five attempts until the bracelet sits snugly against your wrist, sparkling in the warm glow of the fire in front of you.

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” you whisper, trying very hard not cry. It’s a long awaited relief, unbridled happiness, mixed in with all the pent up emotions you can’t find words for just yet.

Copia doesn’t reply, you can tell he’s choked up as well and so instead of talking, you grab his face and pull him in for another kiss. It’s your sixth one, overall, but it’s the first one you exchange without any doubts about what it means. Maybe that’s why everything feels so limitless now. You pull him into the cushions, half on top of you, and let him deepen the kiss in a pace that he feels comfortable with. You taste a few salty tears on his tongue, mixing in with a hunger that has a lot to do with how perfectly heavy his body feels on top of yours.

You’re sure you won’t be able to count the kisses much longer.

I hope you're having a lovely Christmas – and maybe you'll even find a cardinal shaped present underneath the tree. Thank you for reading ♡

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