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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 7 months

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Clownfall: Endgame

I am calling it that in the full knowledge that batshit things may yet happen, but listen. Listen. We have a year left before the general election. I am hedging my bets and assuming all that comes in that year will be Tory manoeuvring ahead of that. Let's all hope for a nice quiet year in which everything can fall neatly under that banner, that won't ruin this naming convention.

Previous Reading

Important Terminology - Required Reading

What is a Whip?

How do Whips work?

Shadow Cabinet

Front Benchers, Back Benchers and the Cabinet

What do we need to call an early General Election?

The Adventures of Big Dog the Clown - Suggested Reading

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Elanor’s Guide to Liz Truss - Suggested Reading

Character-based prequel

The Premiership of Liz Truss

The Next Steps - Suggested Reading

The post-Truss contenders

Bye Matt

BoJo Resigns as MP

Alright, that's probably everything. Just nice to have it all in one place, innit? If you would like a nice soothing soundtrack to your reading, here's my recommendation. On with the show!

Clownfall: Endgame

Wednesday

So, let's start with charismatic and charming Home Secretary Suella Braverman! You may remember her from such hits as "Quitting before she could be fired after breaking the law only to be rehired by Sunak almost immediately and without consequence to appease the right wing nutjobs in the party", and "Claiming Pakistani men have a culture that makes them work in abuse rings to target vulnerable white English girls" (I should add that, if you are unfamiliar with Suella Braverman, regardless of what that quote implies, she is not, in fact, white); recently she made the news because she announced that being homeless is a "lifestyle choice". So true, Suella! They could give it up any time they wanted. They could, for example, get together and break in and steal your fucking house.

But in particular, here we're focussing on her recent stance towards the multiple huge pro-Palestine marches that have been taking place in London. So far she has indicated that she wants people who wave Palestinian flags to be arrested, so that's very measured and rational of her; but, last Wednesday (Nov 8th), she decided to write a lil opinion piece in the Times all about how mean and biased and liberal the police are. This is an absolutely fascinating assertion to I suspect literally anyone who has ever been involved with the police. But no! Quoth Suella, aggressive right-wing protesters are "rightly met with a stern response", while "pro-Palestinian mobs" are "largely ignored".

And, she claims, the march on Saturday isn’t simply a cry for help for Gaza, but an "assertion of primacy by certain groups - particularly Islamists - of the kind we are more used to seeing in Northern Ireland".

Imagine how well all that went down.

Thursday

You are underestimating how that went down, because it emerges that Suella deVille did not, in fact, get any form of validated sign-off or permission from Number 10 before squirting her ill-informed liquid horseshit all over the front desk of the Times news room, and that, Tumblrs, you'll be surprised to learn, is actually quite an important and compulsory part of criticising the police when you are the Home Secretary. Like, there is a Ministerial Code about this. It is very clear. It is in Article 8.2, Tumblrs. Thou Shalt Have Permission From Number 10 Before Making Media Interventions.

“The content was not agreed with Number 10,” a spokesperson for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak told reporters, referring to the prime minister’s Downing Street office. The ministerial code is clear that any ministerial media interventions need approval from No 10.

-AlJazeera

And the Tories are furious! The bloodbath forms quickly and loudly and the hounds start baying! Clown noses are flying everywhere! The factions are drawn! Because even now, there are Tories too stupid to understand that whether you agree with someone or not they still have to follow the rules! Also the other parties realise they can offer some actual opposition here, given that Suella has essentially dragged a barrel into the middle of the House of Commons dressed in a fish costume, handed around a set of loaded rifles, and then crawled inside to wait. The result is that the calls for her resignation are both deafening and pleasingly cross-party.

"(This is a) dangerous attempt to undermine respect for police", says Labour's shadow home secretary Yvette Cooper. "(It's) irresponsible," says London mayor Sadiq Khan. "The PM's weakness when it comes to standing up to Suella is the most shocking thing in all this," claims a senior Labour source.

They're wrong, of course. The most shocking thing is Liberal Democrat leader Sir Ed Davey realising he can actually appear in the paper if he plays this right and so surfaces to attempt some politics. "(Sunak) must finally act with integrity by sacking his out-of-control home secretary!" he declares, frightening many MPs who had forgotten he was even in the room with them.

Meanwhile, several Tories approach the BBC anonymously.

"The home secretary's awfulness is now a reflection on the prime minister. Keeping her in post is damaging him," says one. Another straight-up describes her as "unhinged". Another claims the comparison with Northern Ireland is "wholly offensive and ignorant", and really, all of this is permanently triggering that "Heartbreaking: the worst person you know just made a great point" reaction image.

Saturday

Hey, speaking of reaction images, look, Labour has a go:

Well. They tried.

BUT! Do you want to know the INTERESTING bit??!

Enter: Nadine Dorries! Mad shrieking pink harpy who spends her days maintaining a BoJo shrine in her bedroom! Always the most hinged of politicians, let's see what she has to say.

Former cabinet minister Nadine Dorries claimed Ms Braverman was trying to get sacked to give her a platform of martyrdom in service of the right-wing. "The competition is on now for who is going to be the leader of the opposition," Ms Dorries told the BBC.

???!??!?

PERTINENT POLITICAL OBSERVATION FROM DORRIES?!?!?? The most shocking part of this whole affair. Remember that time she yelled at a journalist during an interview about Boris Johnson's latest scandal when he asked her how Johnson was feeling about the whole thing and inadvertently implied they were having an affair when No One Asked? God, wonders never cease. She's even acknowledging the Tories can't win the next GE, look. I'd say this is growth, except I am 100% positive she's just being catty about BlowJo being fired again.

Anyway, the real Saturday issue: it's Armistice Day, and there's a pro-Palestine march planned.

Now, to give context, Armistice Day has a creepy level of patriotic state-worship attached to it in the UK. Some time in October everyone on telly suddenly starts wearing a poppy, and if you don't you get hanged, drawn and quartered by (a) the British press, and then (b) a baying mob outside your living room. You most be performatively sad. You must perform reverence and hero worship and say things like "Never again" all while whole-heartedly supporting current wars. You must talk about "our brave boys", and share the works of dead poets from the trenches, and then completely fail to absorb any of their lessons. If anyone tries to wear the white poppy to distance themselves from the current political appropriation while still commemorating the millions of conscripted casualties, you accuse them of being "woke" and pissing on the worthy dead of WW1. It's a whole thing, and politicians love using it as an excuse to point fingers and mock each other for being insufficiently patriotic if they wear the wrong tie to the ceremonies, or choose to walk with actual veterans rather than a head of the current army, or any number of other things. And then on November the 12th they'll order a drone strike or something.

So, off the bat, you can see how a pro-Palestine rally on the same day was likely to be seen as provocative to some.

"Some" included Sunak! He didn’t (publicly at least) ask the police to ban the protest, but did call on organisers to call it off, claiming the choice of date was “provocative and disrespectful”, because as I say, a march calling for the ceasefire of a genocide is super disrespectful to every sad dead poet in a trench who dreamed of a ceasefire so they could live, or something.

But the inevitable therefore happens, which is that far-right activists agree that it's disrespectful, and so decide to violently target the march to show their respect for the idea of peace on Armistice Day, or something.

Here's the planned route by the organisers:

Note, though, that the Armistice ceremony happens at the Cenotaph - visibly nowhere near the march. These two events actually wouldn't have overlapped, if it weren't for far-right protestors deliberately linking them to stop them being disrespectfully linked, or something.

And that's exactly what happened. From the Guardian:

Perhaps the most striking incident, though, was when far-right protesters charged past police who sought to hold them back from the Cenotaph. In this video, a man shouts “this is fucking our country” in celebration. Whereas the pro-Palestine march had been excluded from the area as a precaution, the far right was not; by overwhelming the police, they supposedly sought to defend the site from an enemy that simply wasn’t there.

(that's quite a good article of the whole thing, actually, I recommend giving it a read.)

Crucially to the clown show, though, several politicians and others accused Suella deVille of emboldening the far-right, which... well, several of the far-right protestors straight up said was the case on the day, so hard to disagree, really.

Rumours of a reshuffle in Whitehall circumnavigate the land so fast the truth gets sucked into a tornado and is declared MIA. Here's the thing! I've covered a few Cabinet reshuffles by now, Tumblrs, you know the drill. Reshuffles are always deniable until they actually happen – so if, say, a reshuffle was going to happen on Monday 13 November 2023, there’d be no need to publicise it in advance. That way, if things change and politics happen, you don't need to retract anything :)

Because, remember: reshuffles are always controversial. Yes, some people get demoted, and those people will often kick off, and some people who don't deserve it get promoted, and lots of people kick off. But the big thing is that a lot more people get overlooked for promotion.

His most ardent supporters would say that Rishi Sunak is a cautious man (if you'll allow me a moment to express my own view on the matter, Tumblrs, if you'll forgive this crumb of personal opinion amongst my otherwise impeccable journalling of greatest integrity, I once did a teambuilding task with my students where they had to build the best possible bridge out of uncooked spaghetti and pieces of marshmallow, and I personally would liken the structural integrity of his spine to the losing team's entry), and reshuffles will spread a lot of disappointment to Tory MPs who lose – or fail to gain – a cabinet position.

So, all in all... regardless of Suella's idiocy...

There's no guarantee of a reshuffle. Rumours are just that - whether they prove to be true or not remains to be seen.

Week Commencing Monday 13th November, 2023

New week, new challenges! And it's going to be a big week this week. On Wednesday (tomorrow, at time of writing), three big things are going to be announced, and these announcements will colour everything else this week:

One. The Supreme Court decide whether the government will be allowed to enact their plan to send some migrants claiming asylum in the UK to Rwanda, a signature Braverman plan that human rights campaigners (including many in Rwanda) have been trying to block for ages.

It’s a massive deal anyway – a flagship government idea that’s been bogged down in the court, and we’ll finally have an answer one way or another. For what it’s worth, the Tories aren’t confident about winning it, either. The optimists among them reckon it’s a 50/50 chance, the pessimists reckon it’s 70/30 against, so it's iffy at best.

But here's the thing!

Plenty of Tories have always disliked Suella. Others could handle the odd outburst she has, but can’t stomach the sheer number of them lately - the Lib Dem non-entity man was absolutely right that she is rapidly growing out of control and just does not know when to shut the entire fuck up.

Which means! If the Supreme Court allows the Rwanda plan, Braverman could become emboldened, like a far-right protest injuring police officers to defend the cenotaph from people who are nowhere near it and have no interest in it. Do we want an emboldened Braverman?? Well; no, obviously. I also don't want dysentery, or rotten meat, or a serial killer in my neighbourhood. But it's a question even Tories are asking themselves, which is notable.

Plus, even if the court allows it, there will still be months of planning, and lawyers might still prevent the plans in the long run... But psychologically, the issue is this: the government wants this win, but probably doesn’t benefit from Braverman feeling victorious.

Two. We’ll get inflation figures. The government promised to halve inflation, and it seems likely they’ve managed this. Expect them to massively celebrate this, to distract from the promises they haven’t kept e.g. waiting lists in England, competent governance, etc.

Three. Voting on a ceasefire in Israel seems likely for Wednesday. It’s the SNP’s idea, and it won’t affect government policy (they won’t support a ceasefire – they claim it’ll empower Hamas).

But it’s a big deal for Labour, even more so than the Tories. A Shadow minister has already resigned over the war. A bunch of frontbenchers want a ceasefire, but that isn’t Keir Starmer’s policy, a man who is calling for the colours of the Israel flag to be shown at sports matches to show that "we stand in solidarity with Israel", because you can really count on Starmer to fuck up everything he touches. So what do they do? Abstain? Claim they had a prior commitment?? We might see more resignations, basically. Big day for Starmer.

So! With all that in mind...

Monday

8.43am

Oh look. Timestamps are back. I wonder if that suggests anything?

Suella Braverman is sacked as Home Secretary.

But! Sunak is accused of waiting too long! Which he demonstrably did!

He should have made the decision after the illegal article that she shouldn't have written and triggered a far-right rally on fucking Armistice Day. Instead, remember that 'cautious' descriptor I talked about?? He waited until the tide had turned against her completely, and now looks like he (a) was too much of a useless wimp to fire her until he was sure people would still like him and pat his dick and tell him he's a Good PM, and (b) only fired her because he caved in to that appalling lefty liberal cabal that somehow these days includes the Metropolitan Police of all fucking people, and she'd have been able to stay otherwise.

Shout out to the best comment from Reddit:

u/nowonmai666: Doesn't she normally get sacked on a Friday so she can have the weekend off before being reappointed?

Anyway, that's the big risk now: Braverman’s supporters can claim she was only fired because Sunak caved in to the left.

8.56am

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns claims Sunak only sacked Braverman because he caved in to the left.

9.00am

Neil O'Brian, Pharmacy Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being a back-bencher with less power.

*sus*

9.09am

Nick Gibb, Schools Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being more diplomatic, or something.

*sus*

9.42am

The Lib Dems decide to build on the success of their leader getting to be on telly for his one comment on Thursday and call for a general election. Says Ed Davey: “It was the Prime Minister’s sheer cowardice that kept her in the job even for this long. We are witnessing a broken party and a broken government, both of which are breaking this country.”

Good job! They're having such a good few days.

Anyway remember the Tories don’t have to have a general election until December 2024, though, thanks to the Fixed-term Parliaments Act (2011), which was passed by the coalition government of Tories and, um, Lib Dems. In which Ed Davey served for three years.

Hmm.

9.43am

James Cleverly (remember him?) returns to the Cabinet and is appointed Home Secretary. The party attempts to appear trendy by experimenting with emojis:

This appointment is probably because Tory strategists wanted him in a domestic role to help the party’s chances in the next election; as Surprising Political Pundit Nadine Dorries told us, of all fucking people, the race is now on to lead the opposition.

But hey, this is not likely to lead to any more changes -

10.03am

FORMER PRIME MINISTER, BREXIT-TRIGGERER AND PIG-FUCKER DAVID CAMERON BECOMES FOREIGN SECRETARY

!!!!!!!!!!!!

And look! Another emoji! They're so hip!

(Side note... the balls on this one are astounding, actually. The UK political system has been in chaos ever since Cameron, and he was the first domino. This is not a well-loved former hero that will be greeted warmly by the unwashed masses.)

Awkward though, since just last month Sunak claimed that we’d lived through “30 years of a political system that incentivizes the easy decision, not the right one.” It would be a terrible shame if a journalist was to ask David Cameron whether he agreed with the Prime Minister on that, given that Cameron’s job is to support the Prime Minister now.

Especially since Cameron took to Twitter last month to explicitly criticise Sunak for breaking the Tory promise to deliver High Speed 2.

(Cameron tweeted this criticism last month. Labour MP Angela Rayner however promptly retweets it now lol suck a dick Dave, but try a human one this time)

Also, fun fact, Cameron has just come out of a large-scale lobbying and corruption scandal. Given the state of Sunak, though, that's actually probably what got him the job.

BUT!!! Here's an even funner fact: the man is not an MP. He left politics after he accidentally triggered Brexit and then it came out he'd once face fucked a dead pig's head while it was held on the lap of another Tory; he's been living it up in the lucrative world of after-dinner speaking, as these people do.

So can you do that?? Can you hold a Cabinet position if no one at all has voted for you??

Yes, turns out.

Don't be alarmed by that, though:

But, convention holds that anyone who becomes a Cabinet member while not being an MP needs to be a Peer - that way, if they do bad and naughty things, they can't be held accountable by the House of Commons but they can be held accountable by the House of Lords. Only problem is, Hameron is not a lord...

10.13am

The reshuffle, bafflingly, continues. Jeremy Hunt will remain as chancellor.

For the first time since 2010, the top four positions in government – Prime Minister (Sunak), Chancellor of the Exchequer (Hunt), Home Secretary (Cleverly) and Foreign Secretary (Cameron) – are all held by men.

10.18am

Lots of people tweeting about the historic context of Cameron’s appointment. Here’s my favourite:

10.48am

David Cameron is given a life peerage, so his proper name now is Lord Piggledick.

10.52am

Health secretary Will Quince quits. He wasn’t planning to stand for re-election anyway though, so this one is probably not a shock. But it's important that no one else resi-

11.04am

Decarbonisation minister Jesse Norman resigns.

...

Time for a

✨Conspiracy Theory✨

Between Quince and Norman – as well as Neil O’Brien and Nick Gibb – we’re seeing several mid-ranking ministers resign, despite being generally regarded as fairly competent.

It’s possible they were fired in private, and they’re publicly resigning to save face. But here’s another theory.

MPs aren’t allowed to seek commercial employment for six months after resigning from the government.

So hypothetically, if you were going to lose your seat in a general election, you’d want to have resigned six months earlier so you can still get a job.

If that’s what these guys are doing, it suggests we’re on track for a May 2024 election...?

11.05am

11.12am

Remember Cameron's financial scandal? Quick background here: David Cameron was specifically vice-chair of a £1bn China-UK investment fund.

So let’s see what throwback former leader Iain Duncan Smith thinks of Cameron’s return:

“I am astonished at this appointment. It seems to send a signal to China that we are pursuing business with them at all costs and any costs. Those who have been sanctioned now feel more abandoned than at any time. Those facing genocide and persecution will feel more abandoned than at any time.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Iain Duncan Smith *spits on floor*

11.50am

Former Tory deputy prime minister Lord Heseltine is asked to sum up the return of Cameron, and says it’s the “clearest signal that the sort of right wing lurch that we’ve seen and the anti-European movement that we’ve seen has been put to bed, and that will get a message across to people”.

12.13pm

A Tory MP is worried that Cameron’s return will turn back the clock on Brexit and Johnson’s election.

“It is very alarming. I am predicting a softening on small boats, a softening on legal migration. I would not be surprised if the ban on conversion therapy returns.”

... Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Anyway, let’s see how the public actually sees Cameron compared with other PMs!

Yeah, not sure people will mind if Cameron’s not Boris Johnson.

12.43pm

ITV political editor Robert Peston walks past a minister of state. The minister’s on the phone, but takes a moment to heatedly shout at Peston, “The PM just sacked me!”

I guess some days are easier than others as a journalist

12.47pm

Therese Coffey resigns as environment secretary!!!!

*choirs of heavenly angels sing*

You'll remember her of course, Tumblrs - she was one of the thugs manhandling people into the 'right' voting lobbies to force their vote on the day of Liz Truss' fracking law. Rumour has it she still has the Whip handle in her ass.

A lot of people seem to be resigning today! But don't be fooled. In almost every case, it’ll be because they were told to resign. They’ve been sacked, but they resign to save face. A last mercy from their benevolent leader.

My guess: Tessie here is terrible at media skills, so – get rid of her before she hurts general election chances. This, too, is a pattern.

12.52pm

Rachel Maclean sacked as Housing Minister! Fun fact, numbers fans: it took Doctor Who 33 years to make it to eight Doctors, but since the 2019 election, the Tories managed eight Housing Ministers in just under 4 years

trololol

1.15pm

Jeremy Quin quits as Minister for the Cabinet Office.

1.37pm

Times Political Editor Steven Swinford reports that No 10 is struggling to find a new housing minister (owing to rumours the job is cursed). Several people have turned it down, including Jeremy Quin. It is incredible to me that they didn't line someone up before sacking the last guy.

Kemi Badenoch and Michael Gove are apparently unhappy that Rachel Maclean was removed from the role. I for one do not care about the opinions of Kemi Badenoch or Michael Gove.

2.04pm

Health Secretary Steve Barclay becomes Environment Secretary. This is effectively a demotion for him. It is our 5th Environment Secretary in four years. Chasing that Housing Minister record! It took 19 years for Doctor Who to have five Doctors

2.15pm

Richard Holden appointed new Conservative Party chairman.

A 2019-intake Tory MP, he led the charge against Sir Keir Starmer over Beergate, which did damage Starmer a bit (albeit not much, given that it turned out Starmer had complied with lockdown regs, and the accusation was nakedly to try and distract from Partygate). So this appointment looks like more strategy to win the next election - someone not known enough to be hated, with what passes in the modern Tory party for a proven track record.

This could be a sign that the Tories intend to at least try to shore up the Red Wall votes? As unlikely as the Tories are to keep those seats.

That said, Holden’s seat disappears in a boundary change next election, sooooo … we'll see what they do there.

2.24pm

Victoria Atkins appointed Health Secretary, replacing Steve Barclay who’s moved to Environment Secretary. She's a relative unknown but also considered actually competent. Massive middle finger to Steve Barclay

2.37pm

Laura Trott (formerly in pensions) promoted to Chief Secretary to the Treasury.

2.42pm

Science minister George Freeman resigns.

3.18pm

YouGov conducts a snap poll: is the appointment of David Cameron as Foreign Secretary a good decision or a bad decision?

Good decision: 24%

Bad decision: 38%

Don't know: 38%

So that's going well

3.24pm

Greg Hands is made a business minister after losing the Tory chairman role.

John Glen moves from chief secretary to the Treasury to become the Minister for the Cabinet Office and Paymaster General.

3.39pm

With Cameron being a Lord now, he’ll be based in the House of Lords rather than the Commons. The most recent Cabinet Minister to be based in the Lords was former Brexit minister Lord Frost, who did weigh in on the matter:

“[T]hough I was not running a whole Department too. I don’t think it works well to have a lead Cabinet Minister answering questions and defending their Department solely in the Lords. The Lords is not a fully party political environment - nor should it be - and voters are owed proper political scrutiny. In our system, that can only happen in the Commons.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Lord Frost *spits on floor*

The SNP had already called this out, with MP Stephen Flynn claiming, “The UK is not a serious country.”

4.21pm

Conservative MP Lee Rowley appointed the 16th housing minister in the past 13 years. Even counting David Tennant twice, that's more than all the Doctors Who we've ever had, and that took almost 60 years.

5.16pm

Sky News’s Tamara Cohen reports that Sunak sacked Braverman by phone this morning! Downing Street says there won’t be any exchange of letters between them - this is almost unheard of. Politics runs on paper trails! Everything happens through formal letters! By phone!

It means we’re denied insight into their differences. But Cohen reckons we’re likely to hear from Braverman on Wednesday, as the Supreme Court rules on the Rwanda scheme.

6.03pm

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns, former Education Minister, submits no-confidence letter in Rishi Sunak.

It's almost like, in the absence of Dorries, she's decided that someone needs to step up and have a tantrum and that someone might as well be her. It is, actually, an extremely funny letter, as these letters go. Normally they're written with a sort of furious earnestness wrapped in formal language. I presume that Andrea Jenkyns MP, former Education Minister, was aiming for something similar, and the first paragraph manages it. But by the end you sort of start to wonder if this was supposed to be a letter she wrote with her therapist to get her feelings out:

My favourite line, when pulled in isolation, is "Yes Boris Johnson, the man who won the Conservative Party a massive majority, was unforgivable enough."

Yeah, Andrea babes. You're bang on there.

6.05pm

Esther McVey is appointed as Cabinet Office minister. Not a full cabinet member, but she will attend cabinet meetings.

This is notable: unlike a lot of today’s appointments, she’s on the right of the party. Her role will be to represent the government on TV and radio as much as possible, talking about gender/culture/British colonial history issues (i.e. she’s anti-woke and a screaming bigot).

In other words, with Braverman gone, McVey is an offering for the populist right of the party to try to appease them.

6.15pm

Sunak tweets about the new cabinet, claiming they’ll make “the right decisions for our great country, not the easy ones.” So it looks like that’s the new slogan, and we're pressing on with austerity

6.27pm

Tim Loughton, a Tory MP on the “One Nation” wing (i.e the David Cameron side) responds to Andrea Jenkyns’s letter of no-confidence by tweeting:

“Where can we submit a letter of no confidence in the Pantomime Dame?”

(It’s Andrea he’s publicly referring to as a pantomime dame there. A lil joke from the Tories for you)

6.31pm

Paul Scully sacked as minister for London. Didn't know that one was a position.

9.43pm

Sunak says that only a two-state solution will allow a new future for Israel/Palestine. This is, um, not what the Prime Minister of Israel wants. Who knows whether the Prime Minister of Israel will survive this crisis anyway – but these are big words from Sunak. Cameron’s influence? Maybe? Interesting either way

10.03pm

And then - PLOT TWIST!!!

According to ITV political editor Robert Peston, a senior government source reveals that Cameron was approached on TUESDAY.

Which means plans were underway to get rid of Braverman not only before the far-right violence on Saturday, but before her anti-police article on Wednesday. It seems she lost her job not because of what she said about police after all; but because she claimed homelessness was a lifestyle choice.

Well well.

11.05pm

And the day finishes with Andrea Leadsom back in government (as Under Secretary of State for Health and Social Care) which nobody saw coming! Pretty demeaning to the other 300 Tory MPs who could have been given this.

The final response from numerous Tories: they are feeling jilted and insulted because David Cameron being brought back when he's NOT EVEN AN MP, RISHI suggests that they themselves are not good enough to be in government.

No one tell them

#politik #clownfall: endgame

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ladydekarios · 2 months

Text

One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

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Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

845 notes · View notes

elliespillowprincess · 2 months

Text

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

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a/n: hi everyone! i wanted to write a story w friends to lovers trope so here it is! im not sure if this will be an ongoing series, ill just have to see where it goes!! this kinda sucks im sorryyy i haven’t written in a while ive been so busy w school </3

cw: toxic!ellie, situationship abby???, tipsy sex, fingering (r receiving), violence?, kinda public sex, honestly badly written + not proofread😭lmk what else!!

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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it was a normal friday, you had just got home from classes and were getting ready to go to a kickback with your friends to drink the stress of finals away. you were going with your friends dina, jesse, and your roommate ellie. all of you became friends during your freshman year of college, you and ellie deciding to room together. you were just finishing up your makeup, and you got up to change, beginning to take your robe off, when your door flies open.

“hey, y/n i-“ she makes eye contact with you as you quickly attempt to cover yourself, your robe already halfway off. “shit- i’m- i’m sorry! i didn’t see anything! i swear i-“ why was she still standing there?

“get out!! go!” you say, clearly embarrassed. she turns around, clearly flushed. you become extremely red, but remember this isn’t the first time she’s walked in on you getting dressed. or the second, or the third..

you walk out of your room, wearing a simple outfit of a tank top and shorts. you meet eyes with ellie, who looks you up and down, seeing what you’re wearing. it was like everything was quiet. you’ve had a crush on ellie since you met her, but you’d always assumed she didn’t like you back since she was bringing in a new girl every week. she was wearing a blue flannel with a white tank top under, paired with a pair of jeans. you couldn’t help but admire her, and wonder what she looked like under her-

“y/n!! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!!”

your trance is broken by dina, who runs up to you, giving you a big hug. you hug her back, closing your eyes and smiling a huge smile. the four of you haven’t hung out in ages. most of your nights consisted of either studying, or smoking with ellie and watching whatever dumb movie was playing at the time. the two of you let go, and you walked up to give jesse a hug as well.

“god it’s been so long since we’ve all been together!” you say, letting go of jesse. “is everyone ready?”

“yeah, we’ve been waiting on the princess to finish getting ready.” ellie says, sarcastically. you roll your eyes as jesse grabs his keys and the four of you head out to the car. dina immediately takes her spot up front, leaving you and ellie in the back. “can i have aux?” ellie says before the car is even on.

the four of you arrive at the party shortly after, everyone arguing on what music to play. jesse gets out first and goes to open dina’s door for her. “you’re cooked, jesse.” ellie says, laughing. “hey! i think its cute.” you argue back. ellie just looks at you and rolls her eyes, laughing, as she gets out of the car.

the party wasn’t full, nothing crazy. you walk in first, immediately beelining to the drinks. you bump into a large, blonde hair girl.

“woah, you good?” you meet eyes with the women’s hockey teams star player, abby anderson. you notice her hands are on your waist, steadying you before you fell.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you laugh.

“don’t worry about it, what’s your name gorgeous?” she says with a smirk. you look around, and see ellie already chatting it up with a ditsy girl. if she can have fun, why can’t you?

“y/n, and you are?” you knew the answer to this, everyone did. but you ddint wanna seem like a stalker for knowing her name when she didn’t know yours.

“abby. are you here with anyone?” she asks, scanning around the room. you hardly even notice when her hands leave your waist, steadying herself on the counter.

“oh, just my friends. i split away to grab a drink.” you slightly turn to pour a random bottle into one of the red solo cups stacked on the counter.

she laughs, watching you. “a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. it makes you blush, downing the liquor for some liquid courage.

“oh i don’t- i don’t really like guys..” you giggle. she raises her eyebrows.

“oh, so i do have a chance?” she replies, taking a sip from her cup. “do you wanna head up to my room?”

you look over to jesse and dina, they’re dancing to whatever shitty house music is playing. then to ellie, who’s clearly already had a few drinks, chatting it up with two girls now.

“sure, let’s go!”

abby grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd. you can’t help but love how big her hand is in yours, how she led you through the crowd saying hi to almost everyone. you almost make it to the stairs when you hear a commotion, and abby is shoved away from you.

“the fuck are you doing anderson?”

it’s ellie.

what’s her problem? she has girls at her disposal and she’s worried what you’re doing?

“don’t start shit at my party, ellie.” she says back, getting closer and towering over her. you knew abby and ellie didn’t get along that good, ellie always told you it was because abby was cocky and spoiled, but clearly it was more than that. “what’s your deal?”

“my deal is that you’re trying to treat her like she’s one of your sluts, she’s probably drunk and you’re taking advantage of her!” ellie barks back, slurring her words. this makes abby angrier, and you have to step in.

“ellie, it’s not that big of a deal. i said yes, im barely tipsy. can you let us be?” you didn’t realize your words sounded a little rude, but it didn’t matter. you knew this, with abby, was only gonna be a simple fuck and nothing more. she glares at you, grabbing your hand and trying to drag you out of the house. you try to resist her, but she’s stronger. “ellie, let go!”

suddenly, abby shoves ellie hard. “she said let the fuck go, ellie!” ellie’s expression changed. she looked infuriated. she drops her drink and punches abby in the face. “oh you fucked up.” abby says getting ready to punch ellie. you shove ellie away, telling abby to find you on instagram, that you’ll text her and that your sorry. you begin practically dragging ellie out. dina and jesse stop you before you can leave.

“what the fuck happened?” dina says, looking at the clearly pissed ellie.

“i’ll tell you when we get home, im just gonna call an uber, go home, and sober her up.”

“you sure you don’t want a ride? we don’t mind i-“ jesse says.

“no, it’s fine. i’ll text you guys when i get home.” you go to leave, pushing ellie out and ordering and uber.

the ride home was quiet. the uber didn’t even make small talk as usual. the air felt so thick you could cut it with a knife. finally, you stop at your house, thanking the uber driver, and go around to ellie’s side to help her get out.

“i don’t.. i don’t need your fucking help.” she snaps. you roll your eyes and continue to help her, dragging her inside and pushing her on the couch. “god, what’s your problem?”

you don’t know why she was acting so mean. true, she had a few drinks, but she didn’t usually act this this when drunk.

“what’s your fucking problem ellie? i mean, god, can i not make my own decisions?” you snap, going to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. “you fuck a new girl every week, sometimes two, and i can’t do it once?” you take the shot. “what are you so mad about?” you shout, going to pour yourself another.

you hear her shift a little on the couch. “nothing, i don’t have a problem.” you audibly laugh, she’s being ridiculous! you down another drink, closing the bottle. it makes you cough and gag a little.

“if you didn’t have a problem, you wouldn’t have fucking punched abby for talking to me.” you start to go to your room, wanting to sleep it off.

“stop.” she says. you do as she says, you don’t know why but you do. “sit down.”

you walk over to the opposite side of the couch and sit down. she sits up from her laying position.

“i just.. she has fucked almost every girl at school. i don’t want you being one of those girls.” you burst out laughing, not believing what’s being said to you right now.

“are you serious, ellie?” you look at her in disbelief. “you do the same thing as her! i knew it was gonna be a simple fuck, i knew that and i didn’t care! so fucking what if a girl has some built up tension, am i not allowed to release it how i want? god, you’re immature.”

she stares at you blankly, before pulling you in and giving you a hug.

“you’re better than that, y/n.” she says into your shoulder. “if you needed it that bad i’d rather you come to me than an ass like her, god at least we know each other.”

what?

you sit there in disbelief as she continues to hug you.

“ellie, what? do you even know what you’re saying?” you stare at her as she begins to pull away.

“y/n, i..” she trails off, just staring at you.

“you need to go to sleep.” you say flatly, getting up, tossing her a blanket, and going to your room. you didn’t wanna deal with this now, and hoped it was all just some fucked up dream and everything would be normal in the morning. ellie would be back to her playful self, the two of you back to being best friends. you get in your bed, too lazy to undress and take off your makeup, and drift off to sleep.

the next weeks were completely different. ellie hardly talked to you, and she was bringing more and more girls home almost every night. she stayed out until the early morning, waking you up with the moans of the girls in her bed.

it made you sick.

you hardly ever saw her, either. she’d try her best to avoid you, but the rare occasion where you’d turn a corner and bump into her only made her turn away back into her room.

regardless, you decided to have your own fun. you’ve been texting abby off and on, and the two of you only got so far as making out at parties, parties ellie was at. the two of you would make eye contact whilst your mouth was in abby’s, hers in another girl. but why should you care? she was the one avoiding you. she was the one who said you should just be friends with benefits.

you were studying when you get a text on your phone.

abs: hey, i’m throwing a kickback tn, u coming right?

you sit for a minute, wondering if this is really what you need.

y/n: ummm idk what kind

like crazy or chill

abs: chill

just a few friends

u can bring dina n jesse if u want

you contemplate, and decide it won’t hurt anything if you go. you type abby your reply and inform jesse and dina.

abs: starts at 9 don’t be late

y/n:🙄

you start getting ready, it’s only 7 so you don’t have to hurry. you decide to fuck with abby a little, and put on a tight dress she won’t be able to resist. you start on your makeup when you hear the loud moans coming from your roommates room. you try to ignore it, try to focus on your makeup, but it’s so damn loud. you stand up, frustrated, and march to ellie’s room. you raise your hand, about to pound the door and tell her to knock it off, when you hear something.

“y/n.. fuck- ugh” it’s ellie. there’s not another girl in there. it’s her making the noise. you can’t help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks hearing that. you think about breaking her door down, but you’re frozen listening to her whimpers and pleads. “fuck- put my- kids.. fuck!!”

“ellie…?” you softly knock on her door. it feels like all the sound from the world has been removed. “ellie, you okay..?”

you hear shuffling. “just- what? do you need something?” she sounds annoyed, scattered.

“i heard you saying my name i just-“

she swings open her door. she’s messy, her hair is ruffled and sweat beads on her forehead. “what do you want?”

you just sit there and stare at her in disbelief. her cheeks are a bright shade of pink and she’s slightly out of breath. her smell is intoxicating.

“i just heard you say my name and.. wanted to see what was up..” you trail off. she doesn’t say or do anything, just stares at you.

“where are you going?” she asks, as if she wasn’t just caught moaning your name.

“oh um.. abs is throwing a little get together..” you say coyly.

“and you’re wearing that?” she snaps back. why was she so upset?

“look ellie- i don’t get what your fucking problem is-“

“i’m going, let’s go.” she says bluntly.

“ellie, you’re not even invited, it’s a small thing.”

“so? i know jesse and dina too, im not gonna be your little plus one. cmon ill drive us.”

rolling your eyes and arguing with her as you follow her to her bike, she hands you a helmet. “relax, y/n. what’s she gonna do?” she hops on and you follow behind her, climbing on the bike and wrapping your arms around her. “hold on tight.”

when the two of you eventually arrived after you pleaded with ellie to stay back, abby looked pissed. the night consisted of a few drinks, dina and jesse cuddling on the couch, and eventually leading to a game of truth or dare.

you were sat right next to abby, her arm around you, and ellie across the living room. it was small, only about 20 people. you were shocked abby even allowed ellie to be here, she barely even paid mind.

“abby, truth or dare?” you hear an unfamiliar girl ask.

“dare.” she says, almost as to impress you.

“i dare you to…” she looks around for a moment. “kiss alexis.”

the room got quiet, all eyes on abby. everybody know alexis and abby used to fuck on the low, but people assumed you were with her now. abby wasted no time getting up and almost making out with her, making you annoyed and your stomach churn.

“i’ll be right back, gonna get a drink.” abby says, getting up and going to the kitchen. the atmosphere was off.

“um, yeah me too.” alexis says, running after abby. “abby, can we talk?” you hear her say in a whisper.

“umm.. okay fine, ellie then, truth or dare?” a random guy asks ellie.

“dare.” she says whilst eyeing you.

“play 7 minutes in heaven with y/n”

you shoot dina a look, and start nervously looking around the room at everyone. ellie gets up from her seat, walks over to you, and practically drags you to abby’s half bathroom, shutting and locking the door. the two of you are mere inches away, smelling the alcohol on her. you had a few drinks, giving you a little liquid courage.

you two are so close, and the air almost feels thick, hard to breathe. she’s leaning against the wall, just staring at you and waiting for you to do something.

“we doing this or not?” you say bluntly to her. immediately, she grabs your face and starts making out with you roughly, catching you off gaurd and causing a moan to slip through your lips. she pushes you against the counter and lifts you onto it, placing herself between your legs. it’s too intimate, whenever you’d pull away, the two of you would make eye contact before smashing your faces together once again. you’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be one of the girls on the other side of ellie’s door, to be the one ellie makes whimper and scream.

“what the fuck is going on in there?” you hear abby shout, followed by dozens of knocks. ellie doesn’t stop, though, and only becomes more aggressive, grabbing onto your thighs. she pulls away for a moment.

“does your little girlfriend make you wet from just a kiss?” she says, staring into you. “i can feel it against my jeans, doll.” the loud bangs from abby are drowned out and all you can hear is your guys’ breathing. “tell me, y/n. does she make you feel the way i do?”

“no, no els she doesn’t.” you pull her back into a kiss as she reaches her hand underneath your dress, and discovers you’re not wearing any underwear.

“dirty slut, you knew this’d happen huh?” she doesn’t waste time before one of her fingers begins pumping into you. “you’re mine right? tell me.” she adds another. you feel dizzy, it’s too intimate. i mean, you were here with abby, now you’re getting fingered by your best friend?

“els i…” the pounding on the door only grew louder and louder, your heart racing. her index and middle fingers pumped into you at a rapid pace, her palm grinding against your clit. you wrap your arms around ellie’s neck, pulling her closer. “this.. this is wrong..” you want to pull away, you want to shove her off and open the door for abby.

right?

“do you want me to stop, y/n?” she says before kissing along your neck. “tell me to stop and i’ll stop.” she continues to pump her long fingers into you. “do you want me to stop or do you wanna cum on my fingers while your little girlfriend is trying to rip me to shreds?”

“f-fuck… fuck- no dont, don’t stop ellie.” she uses her free hand to hold your face and forces you to look at her.

“atta girl.”

“ellie i swear to fucking god i’m gonna kick your ass!” the door is on the verge of breaking, splintering sounds coming from the door. all the tension is pushing you further and further to the edge, ellie overtaking all your senses. you’re drunk on her. every pump of her fingers into your hole and rub against your clit by her palm only pushes you further and further, and she can tell.

“y’gonna cum? cum all over my hand, cmon give it to me.” she whispers. her pace speeds up and one, two, three more pumps and you’re coming undone on her, biting her shoulder and squeezing her neck tightly to muffle your moans. “there we go, that’s my girl. my fucking pussy.” she says, working you through your orgasm. you feel like you’re in a trance, like the world stopped for a moment.

that moment ended with a loud CRACK coming from the door.

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie tlou #ellie smut

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lewsnumerounofan · 7 months

Text

dirty pt2 (theodore nott x reader)

summary: theo wants u back. that’s it.

notes: theo pov-ish, boy is grovelling, unedited, angst, mentions of smut

+ really wanna do a filthy smut oneshot of them as like a pt3 kinda what u think

+ part one

Theo couldn’t find you anywhere. It was like you’d disappeared off the face of the fucking planet and left him alone, sulking through the cold castle hallways.

Ever since the party—the party where he’d left you like the idiot he was—you’d been a ghost. Even after rumour spread that you’d broke up with your golden boy boyfriend, you’d stayed away.

In your place, all Theo had done was miss you. It was stupid. He was stupid—a right git Mattheo has said—for what he’d done. What he’d been doing, really. Months of hook ups had given him plenty of time to talk to you about his feelings, about the two of you. Instead he’d squandered all his chances on you, on feeling you, on the pretty sounds you made under him. It had been hard to resist.

Except now it meant that he’d let all his longing and jealousy boil over into one cruel, ill-timed statement.

Isn’t that what you have your boyfriend for, ama?

Yeah, brilliant move Theo.

He exhaled harshly, watching his breath on the cold winters air. Tugging his coat tighter he took another drag of his cigarette, idly thumbing over the lighter in his other hand.

Where could you be? You only shared one class, and lately you’d taken to skipping it. He’d checked the library, the courtyard, and just about every other fucking room in the school. Bloody nothing.

And then, as if carried to him on the lightly falling snow, and idea. A memory, really.

It’d been a few months ago, after a particularly tricky exam. He’d seen you leave class crying and hadn’t been able to stop himself from following.

To ease his own conscious he’d promised himself it was just so he could ask you for the notes on a previous days lecture (notes he had, as always, already stole from the Ravenclaw he sat behind). Not because his chest tugged at the sight of your teary eyes, and certainly not because he had been feeling the ever growing urge to lay into whoever—or whatever—had your pretty eyes all glassy.

So he’d trailed you through the castle, winding up and up and up until you’d emerged onto a secluded balcony. Shrouded with shrubs and small, intricate statues, the small patio looked over much of the castle and grounds; to the west the river rolled heavy and full.

You hadn’t even looked surprised to see him. Just let your arms fall across his shoulders as you’d hugged him tight.

He hadn’t gotten the notes that day. He’d just held you up there on the terrace until the sun went down, all the while carting his fingers through your hair and muttering that you’d be just fine.

The boy stamped out his cig, doing his best to shake off the memory. No use dwelling on it if you never even spoke to him again.

He cut curtly across the grounds, quickly winding his way through the stairwells and hallways. Paying no mind to Draco and Blaise who tried to wave him down by the great hall, Theo did his best to clamp down on the worry hounding him.

What if you weren’t there? Worse: what if you were? What if you wouldn’t talk to him, or if you did only to tell him that it’d all been a mistake? That leaving you there had been the final straw and you never wanted to see him again.

The boys face grew graver with each thought. His clear eyes clouded with anxiety and his brows tightened. Students in younger years hurried to clear a path as he strode through them. No one much wanted to be on the receiving end of Nott’s hexes.

Finally he arrived at the correct landing. This area of the castle was largely deserted. And besides, most people were already prepping for bed on their dorms.

But you’d had trouble sleeping since September. And it was a crescent moon tonight, your favourite. So you’d be here, despite the snow.

Theo wanted to laugh at himself for all theses stupid, mundane things he’d gathered about you. Every time he’d laid next to you after you’d fucked, every bit of tucked away conversation. He’d remembered.

Hidden in the shadows, he shook himself.

Get over yourself, Nott. Get over yourself, and get her back.

He gave himself no time to think before stepping onto the snowy balcony.

At first he didn’t see you, tucked up behind the thick white hedges. But against the heavy stone railing you perched, slender hands holding an unlit cigarette of your own.

You didn’t look surprised to see him. In fact, when your eyes met you seemed almost… expectant.

Theo settled beside you. His heart was running embarrassingly quickly at your snowy lashes, at your eyes—shining in the moonlight.

“Theo.”

It was even more embarrassing the effect your saying his name wreaked. Without fail it had his breath hitching. When he had you spread under him, when you sobbed his name and gripped his curls when he ate you out-

Theo tried hard not to let his cheeks go red.

You were staring out towards the moon reflecting off the water through the clouds.

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t let his hand shake as he lit your cigarette either. When you finally locked eyes with him he said, “I wanted to apologize.”

He could tell the words gave you pause. Theodore Nott was most definitely not the type to apologize. Sulky, prideful and sarcastic, the boy typically wouldn’t be caught dead saying such things to anyone.

But you weren’t anyone, certainly not to Theo.

“I- I don’t know what I was thinking. Honestly. It was stupid to leave you at the party. All of it was stupid, how I treated you was wrong,” he said.

You’d never heard him speak so many words at once. And you’d never seen him look… nervous? The Theo before you was someone entirely new. His hands ran through his hair anxiously, and he bit at his lip harshly to keep any more rambling from spilling forth.

Keep it together, Theodore.

“What we were doing was wrong-“

“You mean the cheating? Or the whole bloody relationship, Nott?”

He wanted to curse himself. Perhaps if he’d spent a bit longer thinking about something intelligent to say and a little less about your eyes and your fucking smile he wouldn’t have to be facing your harsh scowl now.

Nothing was coming out how he needed it to, and Theo was painfully aware of your mounting temper. But he couldn’t blow this. Not if it meant what he feared; no more hallway glances, no more intimate touches, no more you.

“It wasn’t a relationship-“

“Brilliant Theodore, thanks for rubbing that it.”

“And that was the problem,” he said.

Frustration brought the two of you closer, until you stood, jabbing a finger into his chest. You had to crane your neck back to meet his gaze, dark and heavy in the moonlight.

“What?” you asked.

You mapped his sigh in the frosty air as Theo exhaled heavily. Steeling himself.

“It wasn’t a relationship. That was the problem. I treated you like a hook up for months and it wasn’t right.”

“But that’s what it was, Theodore. I had a boyfriend-“

He was shaking his head, taking your cold hands in his.

“Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. I had so much time to change that. To fight for you and what I knew I wanted. I was just too jealous and scared to do it.”

Your eyes were wide at his confession. Jealous, sure. But scared? Before you could question him Theo continued, words coming fast and desperate.

“I was terrified that if I did something—if I changed our relationship at all—I’d lose whatever part of you I got. Even if that was broom closet hookups and nothing more… I wouldn’t—I couldn’t lose that. And it took me until now to realize that you deserve better than that. You deserve everything.”

He took a deep breath, chest moving heavily.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you go without telling you that.”

Baby blue eyes on yours. Around you the snow fell in heavier swaths, blanketing Theo’s shoulders with the palest white. He looked like your own personal prince in shining armour.

“And can you give me that?” you asked, soft as the falling snow.

Words seemed to fail the boy in front of you.

“Everything?” you prompted.

“If… if you’d let me,” he said. Voice low but steady. Gaze on you, even while his hands shook.

You almost wanted to laugh at the whole beautiful scene. At the snow and the moonlight. At the grumpy boy who’d found you and talked to you in ways no one ever had before. At the absurdity of it all. At how his thumb traced over your knuckles like he was checking you were real.

“If I say yes, it means we fuck in real beds from now on. Okay?”

In disbelief Theo laughed. He pulled you closer. He let his forehead fall to yours. He thought, how did I get so fucking lucky.

“If you say yes we can fuck wherever you want.”

You wrapped your cold hands up in his curls. Kissed one rosy cheek, then the other. His birthmark.

“I have a condition too,” he murmured.

Barely pulling away enough to hum you let him take your face in his big hands.

“Don’t ever fucking call me Theodore again.”

You laughed as he kissed you, snowflakes melting on your lips.

taglist from pt1

@b00kdiary @peony-haze @hisparentsgallerryy @unclecrunkle @devotedlycrookeddonut

#theo nott fic #theo fic #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott #theodore nott fic #bigkeepup

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inuyashaluver · 4 months

Note

hello! can i request an enemies to lovers fic for misa?!?! i absolutely love your fics and theres barely any fics about her so i thought why not

change of heart - misa rodriguez

misa rodriguez x reader

description: in which your relationship with your ultimate enemy takes a turn when she helps you through a tough time

warnings: it’s a long one buckle in, swearing, fighting, suggestive, spanish in bold italics

a/n: finally misa!!! thank you for the love and support, babe, please enjoy!! ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

maría isabel rodriguez rivero, or misa if you will, was the bane of your existence. she was ill-tempered, absolutely insufferable when you couldn’t get a ball past her, arrogant and more. she was also gorgeous but you’d never say it out loud.

you couldn’t understand misa and she couldn’t understand you, the two of you just didn’t get along.

you were on the same team always, but it always felt like a competition between the two of you. sure you were a midfielder and she was a goalkeeper but that didn’t mean the hate didn’t stem.

it’s always been like that, especially in the spanish youth teams, you had the ability to push misa’s buttons in a way she couldn’t explain and vice versa. there was never a pivotal moment where the hatred began but you both knew it steadily developed as you got older.

—

“misa, we’re just training, calm down!” a 16 year old you screamed when she dove for your strike, a harsh smack sounding as she caught it.

“we may be training but that doesn’t mean we get lazy, chiquitín (small one)” misa smirked, kicking a long ball way past you. you send her a glare, cursing her under your breath as you went to retrieve the ball.

by the time you got back, she was doing her keeper duties, but with much less intensity, clearly only going full out when you were the one kicking the ball.

“i thought we shouldn’t get lazy, misa?” you teased, cocking your head to the side and offering her a cheeky grin that made her blood boil.

“fuck off, lay it on me then” she challenged angrily, everyone could feel the tension between the two of you but chose to watch in amusement. this happened every two minutes on the daily and everyone was so used to it.

“i fucking will” you bite back, striking the ball before she had time to think and sending it dangerously close to her face, sailing past her into the back of the net. “no, you’re a cheater, i wasn’t ready,” misa barked, you shrug at her

“you don’t get time to prepare for your little tea party in a match, rodriguez” you taunt, that’s when misa lost it. she walked over to you, standing chest to chest as she glared down at you, you could feel her anger bubbling in your entire body as your eyes challenged hers.

“listen here, princesa (princess), this little attitude of yours is a bad look” she said lowly with mock sympathy. she was clearly trying to rile you up, and sure, maybe you should ignore it but you couldn’t with this girl, no matter how hard you tried.

“my attitude? your fucking ego is the only thing that enjoys a solo performance more than you do” you scoff, she smirks amusingly, moving her face dangerously close to yours as you swallowed hard.

her scent was enveloping you, it was crazy how good she smelled after a training session but you squashed that thought down quickly.

she chose to just keep her face close to yours, her eyes boring into yours while that fucking smirk was plastered on her face.

she looked down at your lips, chuckled and moved past you, letting you stand there with slightly pink cheeks. must be from the heat.

—

for years the snarky remarks continued, tension rose and stemmed the basis of you and misa’s weird relationship. in reality, something else was growing under the surface. attraction.

you both played together in the under 19 spain team and your fellow teammates could all agree that both of you managed to hate each other even more, believing it was physically impossible but you and misa were always overachievers.

“move” misa grumbles as you were talking with ona, shoving you towards the girl, making you stumble before you snap your head towards misa. “you’re such a treat” you glare at her, ona makes quick work of helping you stand after she giggled at the two of you.

misa watches as you stand, making her grin and blow you an exaggerated air kiss. “always such a pleasure to see you” she mocks, you roll your eyes at her and she smiles satisfied, moving to change into her kit in her cubby.

you hate to admit that your eyes lingered on the girl as she changed, the muscles in her back rippling against her skin when she tugged on her keeper kit.

you were distracted, not even processing that aitana had joined your conversation, coming back to life when she sends you a sharp smack on the back of your head.

“ow! what the fuck?” you yelp, turning to a grinning aitana and ona, misa’s head followed the sound of your voice, her eyebrows furrowed thinking you were in pain.

“welcome to earth” aitana smirks, you huff out in frustration and urge her to continue the conversation, your eyes flickering over to see that misa was already watching you.

“can i help you, rodriguez?” you call out, she shakes her head, “nope”, flipping you off before walking out of the room. your eyes followed her as she walked out, feeling a little disappointed when she was gone.

well, you were disappointed until training started. “come on, is that all you’ve got?” misa taunted, her signature smirk that pissed you off like no tomorrow evident on her face as she caught the fifth ball you’d sent her way.

“you never change, we’re practising!” you huff, hands stationary on your hips as you glared at her, “you never change, you’re lazy” misa teases, you close your eyes in frustration, taking a deep breath as she laughed at you.

“you’re so fucking annoying, misa!” you groan, “don’t be mad, princesa (princess), you’ll get one past me eventually” she throws you a thumbs up with her gloves, you send her a charming smile, kicking the ball hard way over the goal, making her send you a glare when she had to go and get it.

“you give into her every time” ona chuckles, her arm thrown over your shoulder. when misa came back and saw ona holding you close, a funny feeling brewed in her stomach, she wanted to be like that with you, but you hated her. and she hated you.

—

you and misa got signed to real madrid at the same time and it was purely unintentional. when you both came to training for the first time, you swore you had a heart attack seeing her in the kit.

“you just cannot get enough of me” misa says in mock disbelief, trying really hard not to laugh at your face right now, you were shocked.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you exhale, watching as misa chuckled at you. “i play for madrid now” she starts, “you look nice,” smiling before tugging the bottom of your training top quickly before moving past you.

your cheeks instantly turned pink, mouth a little agape as she smiled at you over her shoulder, making sure you had to open the door yourself.

the first game you and misa played for madrid changed something slightly between the two of you. the tension between you two finally acknowledged a little when you got a hatrick.

at the end of the game, you felt a hand on your shoulder spinning you around as you did your appreciation lap, “always so greedy, you just had to get three goals?” misa teased, you roll your eyes amusingly, her hand still on your shoulder.

“i was imagining you as the keeper” you smirk, she laughs at that, “you wish” you laugh along with her, both of you with gentle smiles on your faces before you realised what was happening.

you were bantering without any malice, that was a first.

—

the months went by and slowly you and misa got closer? that’s not the right term but it kinda was. the two of you were more or less a little more friendly, mainly through moments that people on the outside viewed as normal but very different for you and misa.

for instance, misa would make an effort to help you out occasionally. helping you out on your tracker as you pathetically tried to yourself.

“you’re embarrassing yourself” misa laughs, grabbing your hips to hold you still, your breath hitched as you felt her fingers on your skin, you were burning.

she takes the tracker from your hands and slips it in the back of your training top, lightly tapping it with her hand before pulling your top down for you.

“i had it” you breathe out, “mhm, sure you did” she winks, placing a hand on your waist before moving past you. you stood there a little dumbfounded, that was nice, and why did you like the feeling of her hands on your skin?

during that training session, she analysed your every move, misa came to terms with having different feelings about you. they were always there of course, but it was different now when she finally accepted them.

you as well couldn’t keep your eyes off misa, often making eye contact with each other before you ripped your gaze away, afraid she’d see how red your face got when she caught you staring. but she did see it, and she loved it.

during shooting practice, misa let you get three goals past her and it pissed you off. “why are you going easy on me?” you exclaim, misa holds her hands up in front of her with a little laugh, “i’d never take it easy on you,” you narrow your eyes at her unconvinced, kicking the ball softly and watching as it rolled in the net, slowly, misa just watched as it moved past her.

“rodriguez, what the fuck!” you throw your arms up, misa laughs brightly, “you’re too good for me now, miss madrid!” she teased, you run your hands over your face, shaking your head.

you walk off to grab some water and misa came up shortly behind you, you wordlessly passed her water bottle to her and her eyes widen a little at the gesture, “thanks” she smiles quickly, her hands brushing yours as she took it, feeling a little jolt of electricity between both of you.

—

everything changed rapidly when you and misa played in the senior team for spain. as soon as the two of you didn’t come in like a thunder strike of an argument, the team was genuinely surprised.

they noticed the complete shift when both of you were starting and unfortunately, your team lost 3-2 in a final. you hadn’t managed to get a goal and you blamed yourself for the whole thing.

you fell to the ground when the final whistle blew, lying on your back with your arm over your eyes as tears rolled down your cheeks.

you weren’t there for long, you felt your body being pulled to an upright position and you let whoever it was do it. you sniffled and looked down at your legs before a gentle hand hooked under your chin and gently directed it upwards.

your eyes met with misa and it made you cry a little more, her heart broke at the sight of you, she’d never seen you cry before. she places a hand on the back of your head and pulled you close to her, tucking your face into her shoulder as you cried.

both of you said nothing, letting yourself melt into misa’s body as everything else tuned out. her other hand rubbed up and down your back, your arms eventually wound around her neck, pulling her closer as she rested her head against yours.

“you played so well,” misa cooed, dismissing all the questioning looks sent by your own teammates, misa only cared about one person and that was you.

“i wasn’t good enough” you mumble against her shirt, misa shook her head, “you’re always good enough, hermosa (beautiful), always” misa said in your ear, her hand on your back now moving in gentle circles as she drew you impossibly closer.

“we lost” you whined, misa tutted at that, “it doesn’t matter, we’ll get them next time” you pull away from her slightly, at arms length.

she smiles at you softly, her hand leaving your head to push a stray hair from your eyes before gently wiping the tears falling on your cheeks. the gesture was so intimate, your stomach was fluttering.

“who are you and what have you done with my misa?” you let out a wet laugh, she laughs along with you, pinching your cheek gently as you both sat on the ground.

“your misa?” she teases, you freeze up a little at that, attempting to pull yourself away from her embrace but she kept you close, pulling you into another hug.

“you’re okay” she breathes out, comforting you as you both conversed quietly back and forth, misa helping you calm down completely before helping you to the change room.

she holds out both of her hands with a friendly smile, you blink up at her and take them both, allowing her to lift you from the ground.

that’s when alexia and jenni came over and began to comfort you, your hands dropping from misa’s and instantly missing the contact.

she went around talking to your teammates as you all slowly filtered into the change room, celebrations still occurring in the change room despite the loss.

you sat quietly in your cubby, misa watched you concerned when you just sat there but she didn’t want to push you anymore.

you all made it back to your hotel, separate rooms for the first time in a while. you collapsed on the bed with an exhausted sigh, starting up at the ceiling while the tv gently filled the atmosphere.

at this point, all you could think about was misa, she was completely clouding up every thought in your head.

your body moving on its own, you walked to the door, swinging it open and letting out a little noise of surprise seeing misa on the other side already. you both clutched your chests in fear, breathing heavily at the fright you gave each other.

“sorry, were you going somewhere?” misa utters, you shook your head, “i was going to your room” you say a little sheepishly, misa’s never heard your voice so soft, especially directed to her.

“oh” she breathes out, you shift your weight between your feet, “do you want to come in?” you swallow, misa nods slowly, moving inside the room and closing the door behind her.

“i just wanted to check up on you” misa admitted, scratching the back of her neck bashfully.

your heart was beating so fast, you nervously glance up at misa before looking back down, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. you could feel her eyes burning into your side profile, trying to see what your next move would be.

you clear your throat before sitting on the bed, your legs swinging over the edge, misa smiled at the sight, you looked adorable, she felt like she could see your younger self that she admired so much shining through.

she moved to sit next to you, her thigh slightly brushing yours as she sat down. “i feel bad, but i’ll be okay” you sigh, looking over to see her smiling sympathetically, she places a gentle hand on your knee.

“hermosa (beautiful), you played amazing, i really mean that,” she says earnestly, her hand gently squeezing your knee as she maintains eye contact with you.

you smile sadly at her, “so did you” she grins, “i let three go past me” you shake your head, “it doesn’t matter, misa, you played amazing as usual” her cheeks go a little pink at your compliment, “what have you done with my (y/n)” she mocks, bumping your shoulder with hers.

you laugh brightly, “your (y/n)?” you tease, but she just nods, “mhm, my (y/n)” her eyes flicker between your own, slightly dropping to your lips before catching herself and looking at her hand still resting on your knee, ready to move it away before you placed your hand over hers.

“misa” you breathe out, almost sounding like a plea as you looked at her, her heart caught in her throat, her eyes searching yours. she moved her hand to rest on your cheek, her thumb rubbing the skin there.

your eyes dropped to her lips and she took it as confirmation, closing the gap and placing her lips on yours. you gasp against her, your mouths moving together tenderly before she slipped her tongue in your mouth.

you weren’t sure how it happened but you ended up straddling her lap, both of you breathing heavily as the kiss grew a little hotter. she gently tugged at your bottom lip between her teeth and you whined into her, making her smirk lazily against your lips, squeezing the flesh of your waist as your hands carded through her hair.

you pull away in need of air, you and misa just looking at each other with pink cheeks and blown out pupils.

you pant as you look at her, smoothing down her hair with a giggle. “sorry” you smile, she smiles up at you adoringly, shaking her head lightly, “it’s okay” you keep your hands on her shoulders, your finger lightly grazing the exposed skin near her collar.

“you okay?” she whispers, the words hitting your lips, you nod, leaning forward to peck her lips sweetly, she smiles at you so brightly. “you okay?” you whisper back, she nods, bumping your nose with hers softly.

“if i told 16 year old (y/n) how good of a kisser you were, maybe she wouldn’t hate you as much” you tease, misa chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, her hand cupping your jaw.

“if i told 16 year old misa all she had to do was kiss you to get you all sweet, i think she’d pass out” she teases back, you giggle, rolling your eyes fondly.

you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “you’re so beautiful” you say softly, “you’re more beautiful” she matches your energy, you both smile at each other sweetly.

“i like you, (y/n)” she looks right into your eyes as she says it, you offer her a cheesy grin, “i like you too” she mirrors your expression before pulling you into another kiss, becoming heated relatively quickly.

you pull away breathlessly making her huff in annoyance, “does this mean you’ll let me score against you?” you tease, she rolls her eyes with a laugh, “hm, maybe, bebé (baby)” she mumbles against your lips, pulling you back into the kiss.

—

when you both went to breakfast the next day and sat next to each other closely, you were offered wild looks of amusement.

“isn’t this a surprise” jenni laughed as her and alexia sat across the both of you. “what?” misa shrugged, “well you’re not fighting” alexia smiled, you rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest when you sat straight in your chair.

misa placed a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “we don’t fight all the time” misa defended, alexia laughed at that, yelling at ona and aitana for backup that they promptly gave.

“we made up ages ago” you narrow your eyes at alexia, she crinkled her nose at you teasingly, making you bite back a smile.

“oh don’t worry, we know you made up” jenni laughed, looking down at her plate with a smirk as she ate, “and what do you mean by that, jennifer?” you bite back, misa smiled amusingly, loving your feisty side.

“well the hickey on your neck says everything to me” she said simply, your eyes widen and your hand flung to your neck quickly, jenni laughs heartily, making alexia giggle too.

misa puts her head in her hands out of embarrassment now that the whole team was looking at you with teasing grins.

“i thought i heard something interesting last night, misa definitely got (y/n)’s forgiveness with what i heard” jenni teases, you glare at her, misa was bright red, “stop it, jenni” misa grits out,

“okay, i will” jenni smirks, continuing to eat her food before mocking your voice, “oh, misa, don’t stop” you gasp at that, ready to leap over the table to tackle the girl to the floor before you were held back by misa, the girl holding you firmly on her lap.

“misa” you whine, “no,” she reprimands, making you slouch into her, “i’ve never seen her so obedient” alexia smirks, you turn bright red, misa matches her smirk, running her hands up and down the side of your waist, promptly calming you down.

you both sat there like that for a bit until you had to get on the bus back to the airport. you and misa sit together and you both can’t help but relish in the affection and domesticity of being together.

you were cuddling into misa as you both chatted, laughing brightly with each other that had the whole team grinning.

it was extremely different from watching the two of you at each other's throats to seeing you all loved up but it was a happy change for everyone. especially you and misa.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

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marisabel_rguez: who knew she was such a softie?

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yourname: fuck off

↳ marisabel_rguez: there she is!!

jennihermoso: i’ve learnt a lot of things about this one😉

↳ alexiaputellas: so have i

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↳ yourname: stop it.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #misa rodriguez #misa #misa rodriguez x reader #misa x reader

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peachysunrize · 2 months

Text

Devil’s Doll ⥃ Mob boss!Aemond

Summary: no one can do anything when Aemond Targaryen sets his eye on a sweet girl and comes to the party with her on his arms, and those who dare to say an ill word will face his wrath with a bullet in their head.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, possessive & obsessive Aemond, mob/mafia au! Murder, creampie, Aemond is a sociopath simp for you, blood & gore, oral (F! Receiving), rough sex, Qoren Martell is an ass here, self defense murder, ztell me if I’ve missed anything. English isn’t my first language so if you’re not okay with that, simply ignore this post. if you don't wanna read dark content, block rue:darkcontent <3

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: babeeees! Hello and welcome back to another unhinged smutty one shot I have written! Hope this satisfies your needs for possessive Aemond🤭 please reblog and comment, it’s most appreciated🩷

A very special thank you to @targaryen-dynasty for beta-ing this piece!🩷🫂

In the world of crimes, Aemond Targaryen’s name is enough to make men shiver in fear. The ruthless nature of him has been the subject of many late-night stories in the past few years in the filthy streets of King’s Landing and beyond.

The one-eyed prince they call him. The infamous second son of Viserys the Coward has built an empire solely around one thing; blood and vengeance.

After the murder of his fiance at the hands of his uncle, he became an untamed beast, bloodthirsty and hungry for revenge to the point that he became the god in the eyes of many — he wiped the streets off any man from his sister’s clan, ruled on the ashes of their bones and burnt flesh.

He thrived in the newfound power, he cherished it and greedily took more and more until there was nothing left more to take. Aemond Targaryen became the head of his clan with his loyal followers doing anything to please him and keep their heads attached to their necks.

So when he finds a new sweet girl at the local coffee shop he frequents, his emotions begin to cloud his judgment or heighten it in a way.

It starts innocently; a black coffee with dark chocolate on a daily basis, a sweet smile, and ‘Have a nice day, sir!’ Always ready for him.

Sweet girl, he calls you when you bring him his order and brushes his fingers atop yours when you lean down to put his coffee on the table.

He looks, he observes, and he obsesses over your every move, every step you take, every inhale and exhale. He likes watching you.

The ruthless god of the criminal world has set his eye on his new prey.

You notice him, of course you do, because he wants you to know about him, he wants you to be as interested in him as he is in you. He loves how your lips move when you question his motives; sweet girl he calls you again, telling you how beautiful you look when you work and how he desperately wishes he could take you out on a date. But he can’t, not when his enemies are behind the corner, ready to strike where he is weak.

Yes, you are his weakness, and the one-eye god isn’t used to it, but for you… oh for you he would murder, he would let his bloodlust get the best of him and commit a massacre just to see a glimpse of your smile.

He catches you crying in the corner of the cafe, mouth agape as you stare at the man who was supposed to be your date for today, lying limp and lifeless with a bullet in his head.

Sweet girl, he calls you as he brushes your hair out of your face, you look like a doll, his doll, and oh, in the pit of your stomach you feel a strange warmth because of his heated gaze. He is smiling, he shouldn’t but he is, and you smile back, captivated by his nature, by his cruelty and devotion.

It feels like fresh air when you reach out to caress his dimples, how he has dreamed of your soft skin on his. The touch only makes him hungrier, a desire, a need to make you his, and he does that night. He takes you to your small apartment, giving you a pleasure like no other while you cling to him — sweet girl, my doll, he calls you, vowing in his head to protect you, and when he asks you why you do not feel disgusted by what he has done to that man, you reply:

“I’m sick of heroes. They ruin their loved ones to keep others safe. But a villain, my devil, you, will burn the city without letting a flame touch my skin.”

He is like your shadow from that day; following you around in the dark without you noticing, keeping his business up while he focuses on you. Sweet girl, he thinks, how you smile at those unworthy people, your smile should be his and his only.

The news spreads like fire; Aemond Targaryen has found a new plaything. As soon as those words fall from one of his men, others gasp and shriek, staring at the poor man’s head that has a hole carved with Aemond’s bullet.

Plaything they say, he scoffs at the thought. You are no plaything for him, you are his sun, his moon, the air to his lungs, you are fuel for his soul, and he wishes he could burn under you to show you how much you mean to him, to crumble into pieces and let you stomp over him while he basks in the glow of your face.

You are his doll, The Devil’s doll.

He knows how dangerous his world is, he understands it perfectly, and that’s why he nearly loses himself when he finds the door to your apartment ajar with muddy footprints leading to your bedroom.

He sees red when the scent of iron hits his nose; blood, he thinks. What has happened to you? He has never felt such a strong emotion before, not for his fiance or even his sister. Now, he is shaking with fury, his knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the gun.

You leap into his arm as soon as you spot him in the doorway, letting the knife fall from your hands while you push yourself to him, clutching his shoulders while you sob.

He sighs in relief, holding you in his arms tighter than he has ever done before. You’re alright, his sweet girl, his doll. He listens to you intently, wiping off the tears that fall from your gorgeous eyes gently, oh you look just like a dream come true; your dress is covered in blood, a man you killed for defense lying on the floor beneath his boot.

He has never been more proud of anyone than he is of you.

He wants to show you off to the world, sick of all the hiding and lies behind the rumors spread by Rhaenyra’s clan. He needs to let everyone know how beautiful his doll is, and what a goddess he has in his arms.

He helps you get ready, keeping his hands all over your body while you try to put some clothes on, giggling and indulging him as he kisses your bare shoulders, groaning at the sight of you in black and red.

“Sweet girl, I have to be the luckiest man alive to have you as mine.” He whispers in your ear, eye narrow as he takes you in again, thinking about how he could be graced by your presence.

“And I the luckiest girl, my love. You make me feel so happy,” you reply, spraying your perfume on your neck and collarbones, and Aemond nearly moans as he takes your scent in.

“Fuck, you have to be a sorceress, I am bewitched by your beauty and smile. What have you done to me, doll? What spell have you put me under?” He attacks your neck with kisses, relishing in the small giggle you gift him.

“I’ve poured a potion in your coffee every day, to make sure your eye only sees me and no other girl.” You joke, turning around in his arms to give him a soft peck on the lips, mindful of your lipstick to leave no trace on his clean-shaven face.

“Don’t give me ideas, doll. I might do it just to keep you all to myself.” He grins, his dimples on display for you to kiss them, chuckling as you try to wipe the red stains off his face.

“Oh, I would love that. Please do, my love,” you match his smile, lopping your arms around his neck, “now, let’s go to this party. The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave and have our fun.”

“Anything for you, sweet girl.” He says, offering you his arm as you both walk towards the door, Aemond helping you down while you hold the long skirt of your dress in your hand, taking cautious steps to the car.

Criston nods at both of you and opens the door, waiting until the two of you are settled inside the car before he gets in himself and starts driving to the location.

Aemond was reluctant to attend this party, after all, it was hosted by one of the clans that were loyal to his sister, but his grandfather convinced him to go with Aegon and Daeron, but he declined and said he’d rather go alone with his doll.

You smile at him, caressing his ring-clattered fingers that are caressing your thigh gently, talking with Cole about what is expected of tonight; murder for sure, but he would rather not get caught up in the whirlwind of hatred he has for his sister and uncle, and most importantly, he needs to keep you safe from all the eyes of those hungry men.

The ride to the mansion is quick, and a sense of dread fills the two of you when your eyes meet. Aemond presses a kiss to your forehead to both calm himself and you before the car comes to a stop and he steps out, coming to your side and holding your hand to help you on your feet.

The moment you step inside the house, you are greeted by various couples, men, women, and people that you have no idea about. You keep your head high, squeezing Aemond’s arm as the two of you hide your discomfort behind a smile while everyone keeps staring at you.

“Targaryen,” someone calls Aemond behind you, “you honored me with coming tonight!” You both turn around, finding Mr. Tyrell and his wife and oldest daughter waiting to greet you.

“The honor is mine, sir,” Aemond shakes his hand, reaching to press a kiss to Mrs. Tyrell’s hand, “thank you for having us tonight. Let me introduce you to my girl,” he puts his large palm on your waist, gently pulling you closer to him as you shake and greet your hosts.

“You certainly have won yourself a prize, Aemond.”

“No prize is as beautiful as she is, I’m afraid.” Your lover says, pinching your waist playfully away from the eyes of the attendees, looking at you with nothing but adoration and unconditional devotion.

“You’re too kind, my love,” you smile, “Lady Tyrell, I would love to get to know you more.” Aemond nods at you gratefully, glad that he has discussed his plans for the party with you.

Aemond watches you being led away by the ladies, letting the smile fall from his lips as he gazes back at Tyrell himself, “I hope you have good reasons for wasting my time here.”

“I do, Mr. Targaryen. I wish to introduce you to Prince Martell from Dorne.” Tyrell says, pointing at a group of men who’re talking intensely. As soon as the two of them approach the group, they grow silent, waiting for Aemond to say something — their silence could be because of two things, either they respect him, or they’re terrified of him.

He hoped it was the latter, for with fear there comes blind respect and loyalty.

“Ah, Targaryen,” Prince Qoren Martell says, reaching to shake Aemond’s hand, “how wonderful to finally meet the One-Eyed God of the underground. Made yourself quite the name, huh?” Qoren smirks, already sensing how his words irritate Aemond.

Aemond shakes his hand back, tightening the hold he has on him, a ghost of a sinister smile forms on his face while he stares at the Dornish man with his indigo eye.

“Can’t say the same about you, Prince Qoren. What have you been doing all this time, not ruining the South, I hope?”

“You’re funny,” Qoren laughs, tapping Aemond on the shoulder, “Ah, I missed someone who’d challenged me over stupid things, kind of feels good to have a kid like you around.”

“Mind your words, Martell. He is no ordinary man, these silly little challenges will be the least of your concerns if he decides you’re not worth his time.” Barros Baratheon, ever the loyal dog of Aemond, speaks up, standing tall and proud next to him.

“Pft, please, I’m sure he knows I’m joking!” Qoren laughs nervously this time, “but… I don’t think your man isn’t doing great nowadays huh?”

“What do you mean?” Aemond asks, slapping Qoren’s hand away, “I wonder what has been said that makes you so full of yourself.”

“I don’t need to say a thing, look, your pretty plaything is coming,” Martell smirks as he eyes you up, watching the sway of your hips as you walk shyly towards Aemond, feeling a bit out of place due to all the looks on you.

“Eyes on me, Martell,” Aemond says through gritted teeth, anger swimming in his good eye as he watches the Dornish man look at you intently.

“Aemond…” he turns around at the sound of your voice, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sweet girl—“

“Ah, it’s truly a shame that a beautiful girl like you wouldn’t reach anywhere with being a side chick for a Targaryen.” A deadly silence falls on the group, Aemond with his ever-rising temper looks at Qoren who hasn’t realized what he has truly said.

“Elaborate, Martell.” He hisses, reaching to pull you closer to him, covering your body mostly with his.

“You need a lady sooner or later, I doubt a woman from her status would be a good choice of a wife for you. You need someone stronger, with more connections, and a mind as sharp as you, not just a pretty whore to keep your bed warm,” Qoren shrugs, and a few men from his side laugh and agree with him.

Aemond presses his lips into a thin line, his fingers twitching in anger as he gazes at Qoren; he looks murderous, ready to pull his gun out and empty a bullet in that useless head of his — but he’s stopped by the sound of your sniffing.

He looks at you, his features softening immediately when he sees your teary eyes. He feels as if he’s about to die with a dagger in his good eye; the look on your face hurts him, burns his heart, and tears it into pieces. The string you’ve wrapped around him tightens and tightens until he cradles your smaller face in his hand, pressing a sweet kiss to your quivering lips before his eye turn black with madness.

He pushes you behind him, and in a second, the hall is filled with screams and shrieks of horror and bullets flying around, bodies of the men who dared to disrespect Aemond’s doll are falling on the floor next to his shoes one by one.

He feels you bury your head in his blazer, gasping at the sound of yet another bullet firing into someone’s head. Aemond doesn’t blink, not even once. His blood is pumping with the urge to showcase how much he’s willing to do to keep his sweet girl happy and content.

“Let this be a reminder to all of you,” his voice echoes in the hall, “whoever dares to say anything about my girl will face the same fate; death! Aemond Targaryen will go to a fucking war for his future wife!” With that, he holds his gun upwards to the ceiling, firing not one, not two, but nearly six bullets to make sure the hall is empty besides the corpses and the two of you.

“Aemond…”

“Shh,” he shushes you roughly, pressing his lips into a searing kiss to yours, groaning at the sweet taste of your lips. He adores losing himself in you; in your taste, in your scent, in every ounce of attention you give him. He feels blessed to even breathe the same air as you, but kissing you… his heart stops every time his lips meet yours, and now, with adrenaline and anger swirling in his veins, he wants nothing but to show you his devotion — even if it comes out as a rough fucking session while staring at the men he killed for you.

His trimmed nails dig into your sides, groaning at the feeling of you melting beneath his rough touch. Aemond is a man possessed with how he handles you, strong and confident while he finds the closest table and finally breaks the kiss.

He watches how your chest heaves with ragged breaths, lips swollen, and eyes wide and hazy with lust — the perfect picture of a goddess that he has been graced with.

He turns you around, pushing you on the table until you’re bending over, looking directly at the limp bodies on the floor drowning in their own blood. He hums as his fingers caress your spine before he strikes you on your ass, humming at the feeling of the weight of your flesh under his hand.

He doesn’t have the will to wait anymore. He drops on his knees, pushing your dress up to your hips until he’s face to face with your bare pussy; wet and ready to be devoured.

“Good girl,” he praises you for listening to him when he asked you earlier to not wear any underwear, “The most gorgeous cunt I’ve ever seen, prettiest girl, my doll.” He’s already drunk on your essence without even tasting it, that’s how much he adores you.

He moans at the same time as you do when he finally dives in, wrapping his thin lips around your buzzing clit as he devours and eats like a starved dog, caging your hips while he takes and takes and takes from you.

There’s not a thought in his head, empty and filled with nothing but an urge to show you how eager he is to please and protect you, your loyal dog he calls himself.

The One-Eyed God crumbles for a simple barista girl, and not a single soul dares to say a word, for if they say, they’ll experience his rage.

Aemond is quick and messy with how his tongue laps up your wetness, creating lewd sounds that have both of your hearts racing. His fingers join his tongue, filling you up slightly and giving you the friction you need, but you know him, the only way you can come is on his cock.

You whine in agony as he leaves you aching for more as soon as he feels you getting closer, but he doesn’t leave you waiting for too long. The sound of his zipper brings back your attention to him, and he chuckles in delight when he sees you wiggling yourself back to get some friction, to end this torture and gives into the temptation.

And he does; he aligns his painfully hard cock with your soaked entrance, pushing himself in with one smooth thrust that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Long is gone the man he was a few seconds ago; he is on a mission now, fucking you until you tremble and fall from the edge of bliss, knowing it’s him pleasuring you, it’s him who will burn this blasted city for you.

“Oh, sweet girl, I’ll kill thousands of men if it means I get to be inside this sweet pussy—fuck-“ he groans, hands finding home on your hipbones as he quickens his pace, driving his cock in and out. Hard and fast.

The squelching sound that your wetness is making embarrasses you, and you hide your face in your arms while you squeal his name over and over again.

Your Devil has grown like ivy around your heart, covering the last untouched part of your souls that he had left untouched, and you love it, love being consumed by him.

He bends down over your back, hips snapping into yours roughly, filling you up with his length as the thick tip of him kisses your cervix while his teeth sink into your bare shoulder.

“Do you see the lengths I would go to protect you, sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear, licking your tear away with the tip of his tongue, “I will commit unspeakable crimes just to have you by my side.”

You nod at him, looping your arm around his neck to bring him down, and he compiles, bending further on your back to kiss you roughly.

Both of you are close; the knot in your stomach gets unbearable until it snaps and you moan loudly in his mouth, gushing around him as your legs shake.

He follows closely; his cock throbs deep within your core, and with one final rough thrust, he empties his balls inside you, coating your velvety walls with his thick cum, marking you as his once more.

You glance back at the corpses, smiling devilishly at how Qoren Martell’s empty eyes are still on you.

“Sweet girl,” Aemond says, “you’re untouchable now. Targaryen clan is yours to rule.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #modern aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #rue:smut #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond smut #rue:darkcontent

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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months

Text

under the influence

words: 1.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, blowjob, dubcon, blackmail, mentions of forced sex, throwing up, drunk!reader

your head pounds as you stumble towards whatever light source is in front of you. your vision is glazed over, only amplified from how tired you are.

“y/n?” a voice calls out.

you open your mouth to respond but your feet trip over a crack on the sidewalk and you fall forward, barely catching yourself with your hands.

“ah, shit.” rafe groans, rushing over to check on you. he turns you over so your back is now against the pavement. “what happened to you?” “was at a party.” you manage to get out before turning your head and throwing up. rafe gathers your hair for you as you vomit onto the sidewalk. “got really drunk.” you say when you finish, spitting to get the taste out of your mouth.

“yeah, i can tell.” rafe scoffs. “want me to take you home?” “no-” you shake your head, looking up at rafe with tears in your eyes. “my parents would kill me if they found out.” your mind reels, tears suddenly falling which quickly turns into sobs.

“hey, hey, shh.” rafe tries to comfort you, his hand coming to rub over your shoulder. “shit, shut up. you can stay at tanneyhill.” “really?” you squeal, mood instantly turning around, a smile replacing your frown.

“yeah just… just get up, come on.” rafe helps you stand up, annoyed that you're ruining his plans for the night, but not wanting to leave you out here to fend for yourself.

you know rafe mostly through your families, both being prominent members in the outer banks. you've grown up around each other, and while you’ve been kind of flirty in the past, in never progressed into anything.

rafe loops an arm around your waist, helping you walk towards his house. rafe had planned to walk to a party, probably the same one you're leaving from, before he came across you.

“are your parents home?” you ask, knowing that you'll have to sneak past them, as they will definitely tell your parents if they saw how obviously wasted you are.

“no. it's just me at home. ward, rose and wheezie are gone for the weekend and sarah is who knows where.” rafe rolls his eyes at even having to mention his sister.

“probably john bs.” you comment, before throwing out a snide remark. “dirty pogue.”

it makes rafe smile, remembering that you harbor the same feelings towards the other side of the island that he does.

rafe leads you inside his house before having to basically drag you up the stairs. he leads you into a guest room before letting you flop down onto the couch.

“you know i had plans for tonight, and now i gotta stay here and make sure you don't die of alcohol poisoning.” rafe says, wanting to make sure you know how much of a pain in his ass you are being.

“im sorry.” you pout, and it stirs something in rafe, seeing you laying splayed out on the bed, sorrowful look on your face and big doe eyes looking up at him.

“you know, you could do something to make it up to me.” rafe offers.

“like-like what?” you ask, blinking up at rafe.

“suck me off.” rafe says, watching you process and then react to what he just said.

“but-but! we are friends rafe you don't want me to do that!”

“i wouldn't ask if i didn't want it.” rafe shrugs. “besides, i was definitely going to hookup with a girl tonight, so im settling with just a blowjob, unless you want me to fuck you too?”

“no, no.” you shake your head quickly. you think about leaving, about walking out of tanneyhill, but you're not sure your legs can carry you that far. “ill suck you off.”

“good girl.” rafe says, rubbing over his crotch as you reposition yourself, flipping to your stomach and moving yourself to the edge of the bed.

“you're gross for this, rafe.” you say, even as you swat his hand away and rub over his length through the layers of fabric.

“we can always stop and i can take you back to your parents. tell them what a naughty girl you've been, getting drunk then rubbing at my dick.”

“no, no.” you shake your head. “im gonna do it just give me a sec.” you unbutton rafes pants slowly before tugging the zipper down, trying to force your mind to sober up as he tugs his pants down, taking the underwear down at the same time, revealing his half hard cock.

“oh my god, you’re so big.” the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it, making rafe chuckle.

you cautiously reach for his cock, wrapping your hand around the base and slowly beginning to stroke up and down, waiting for him to fully harden before you even attempt to put it in your mouth.

“come on, y/n.” rafe encourages you, stepping closer and pressing his thighs into the edge of the bed. you open your mouth and cautiously take a lick over the head of his cock, eyes sliding shut when you realize how good he tastes on your tongue.

you quickly take more of him, mouth swallowing his cock as you bob your head. rafe moans, tangling his fingers in your hair as you work on his cock, all apprehension gone the second you actually felt him.

“fuck, if this is how good you are drunk, i can’t imagine you sober.” rafe groans. he never really thought about you in a sexual way before, always just a background character in his life that he’d joke around and flirt with, but it was never serious until now.

“yeah?” you smirk as you pull off, taking a deep breath, your hand immediately beginning to stroke him to make up for it.

“we’ll see if you even remember this.” rafe laughs, tugging on your hair, forcing you to retake him in your mouth. you choke slightly before regaining composure, sucking his cock deep into your mouth, managing to go all the way down and pressing your nose into his skin. you credit the alcohol flowing through your veins as the reason for your gag reflex not playing up, along with the confidence you have managed to muster up.

“are you sure i can’t fuck you?” rafe asks.

you shake your head no while still swallowing around his cock. you know you’ll wake up and regret this, but the regret is a million times better than the punishment you would face from your parents.

“maybe in the morning.” rafe grunts, hands tightening on your hair as he begins to snap his hips forward, keeping your mouth in place, not caring that drool is dripping down your chin and that your hands are fisted on the comforter, gripping it so tightly that you can feel your nails digging in to your palm through the fabric.

“so good, baby. keep sucking.” rafe commands, knowing he isn’t going to last much longer.

rafe lets out a groan and you feel him swell inside of your mouth before releasing, cumming straight down your throat, his hands keeping you pushed down on his dick, even when you try to pull away and take a breath.

rafe makes sure you stay on him for his entire high, throat constricting around his dick until he pushes your head away, cock flopping out.

you cough, wiping at your mouth. “i can’t believe you made me do that.”

“aye, chill out, y/n. you were certainly acting like you enjoyed it.” rafe laughs, tapping your cheek as you recoil. rafe tucks his cock back into his pants, redoing the button.

“yeah, whatever.” you roll onto your back, moving so your head is back over the pillow. your eyes close,

“scooch over.” rafe commands, making you furrow your brow and look at him.

“what for?”

“i like this side of the bed.” he explains.

“you’re not sleeping in the same bed as me, fuck off.” you wave your hand.

“nah, you’re too drunk. gotta make sure you don’t puke all over the sheets.” rafe explains, hand coming to your hip, pushing so you have no choice but to roll to the other side of the bed.

“too drunk to sleep alone but not too drunk for me to suck your dick.” you roll your eyes. “make it make sense.” “hey.” rafe glares at you. “don’t make me wake you up with my cock inside you. shut it.”

he reaches over and shuts off the light, casting the room into darkness. you let out a sigh to show your disapproval of the situation but don’t say anything more as the silence stretches out a few minutes. “rafe?”

“what?”

“can you hold me?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

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amesemii · 2 months

Text

Anything she wants.

A/N: HEY YALLL this took a lil long an im sorrryyyy!!! i haven’t made my rules yet so just don’t act like idiots or ill block you💋💋 this was my first time writing in a while and im a little rusty😩 tryna keep up with yall and the new trends in writing tho!! feedback is always appreciated so please don’t ever hesitate❤️💋.

WK; 1.1k

summary: your father forces you last minute to attend a meeting with him to get you out of the house and you meet a certain someone who wants to give the spoiled girl a try.

tw; nothing really, he calls you mama, he lowk a simp, flaunts his money too😒, daddy’s girl, spoiled yn, just be aware ig

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠

“Y/N please come down, it’s time to leave” your father yells up the stairs, and you rush to tie your heels up. Your father knew you took long to get ready so you don’t know why the hell he trying to rush you now when he only let you know of this event a few hours ago.

That was one of the things your father did that you didn’t like much and he was quick to apologize and get you a gift knowing you wanted to look your best in front of other people,he couldn’t tell his lovely daughter no. You were his pride and joy being the only girl out of 2 children. Your older brother long gone a few hours away with your lovely sister in law and your niece.(who you could argue is more spoiled than you)

So now you’re here in the blacked out car with your dad going to some random business party that you didn’t even wanna be at but at least you’ve got your card(your dads card) so you can sit and online shop while your father mingles with his partners.

You sit there scrolling on Amazon just adding things you think are cute to your cart, not even caring to look to into the details. Daddy will handle that, you think to yourself as you add a new vanity to the cart. You’re just scrolling through things when you hear someone mumbling in your ear

“You sure are a spoiled little girl aren’t you?” You look up startled to see a man that should be described as nothing BUT sexy. Tattoos adorning he lights lined body grillz and chains glistening short black hair and he was looking just SO good. But that was besides the point, why was he all up in ya phone?

“An you sure are nosey” you go back to scrolling on your phone now having had moved on to another store until you feel him sit next to you and you try to ignore him but you can feel his eyes grazing over your outfit, you’re about to speak up but he’s quick to interrupt.

“I’m Constance but you can call me Connie , and you are?” He’s not mumbling anymore and you’re pretty sure you hear a little accent but you’re not sure from what.

You look up at him from your phone and introduce yourself but that’s not enough for him, he wants to get to know you. You look pretty, smell good, and got an attitude. His favorite mix. You guys talk for a bit, mostly trying to get to know each other and flirting a bit till he asks a certain question.

“Let me take you out mama”

You actually let out a chuckle at that because there was no way In hell he wanted to fuck with you. You’re too expensive and hard to deal with, you know this for a fact because your brother makes sure to tell you every other day on the phone how you and his daughter make flies come out his wallet.

“You can’t handle me” you say smirking at him and his eyes darken and he’s quick to retort “I’m pretty sure I can handle a little girl like you.” And you scoff cause who tf he calling little?? Ain’t nun lil bout you. “Tuh show me then.” He hands you his phone and you put your number in but he looks confused and excite out and goes to show u other apps.

He goes from cash app, to a regular bank, to a bank you’ve never heard of and then still pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket. “I’m pretty sure I can handle you pretty.” And you can’t help but smile a little bit. “We’ll see Constance.” “I said you can call me connie”

“I know.” You chose to call him by his government because why not try to get under his skin? You look up to see your father coming towards you two and you sit up straight and smile “hey dad!” You start hoping and praying that he says it’s time to go home so you can plot.

“Hi baby girl, are you ready to go?” And you nod your head but go to introduce your father and Connie and they shake hands, you give Connie a side hug as you prepare to leave.

You and your father get to the car and you both slide into the back and he’s quick to start questioning you “so is he your boyfriend?” And you’re quick to say no. You only just met him an hour ago, he was NOT your boyfriend.

the rest of the ride was silent after your father basically played 21 questions. you just chill texting some of your friends and watching instagram reels til a text pops up on your phone.

you had to think for a second about that. did you want to lie and say you had plans or just tell him nothing? you take a second to decide and choose to tell the truth.

you just decide to leave him on read since your ride pulls up to your house. you and your father get out and he asks you what you want for dinner so he can order it and you tell him then quickly get upstairs.

you get to your room and open the door and are hit my a breeze. damn! you always leave that fan on to make sure you don’t get hit but it’s cold as a motherfucka in here.

you go to your closet and pick out some pijamas and go into your bathroom. you turn on the shower and wait for it to get hot and you step in.

you wash your body and just think. did you really wanna go on this date with connie? you know if you were to get hurt your father would handle the situation, so that wasn’t a worry.

you were worried about yourself, you didn’t want yourself to fall for him just cause he makes you feel nice and can give you butterflies. he could be just live everybody else.

but he might not be. it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance and by now you already know what to look out for. so you turn off the shower and go out to your room.

you grab your shea butter and body oils, to lotion yourself and get dressed. as soon as you’re done, you decide to text connie back.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself in anticipation of what was to come tomorrow. you were gonna enjoy this

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agirlcandream84 · 4 months

Text

More Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons

Am I mentally ill at this point? All signs point to yes. Anyway, here's more Frank headcanons.

He's always a gentleman and assisting with the stuff that requires muscles BUT he does secretly like to watch you struggle with a jar of pickles or whatever from time to time. Huffing and puffing, those adorable grunts you make, watching how long you'd go without asking for help before finally strutting over to you with a smirk and taking the jar, popping it open with ease and kissing your forehead with "there ya go babydoll"

You love to be barefoot around the house and he is CONVINCED you'll catch your death, putting slippers on your feet or saying "at least put some socks on doll, you're killin' me" and he'd get especially mad when a random glass would break and you'd standing barefoot amongst the shards. Quite literally lifting you by the armpits to place you somewhere safe.

He simultaneously thinks your independence is hot AND would prefer to never let you out of his sight. So when you grab drinks with the girls, he'd lie when he dropped you off and let you think he was headed back home but really he was just waiting in the car for hours outside the bar, ready to get you home safe when the night wrapped up.

There is nothing fragile about his masculinity so when you realize you're out of mascara at 11pm, he's at the drugstore and facetiming you, showing you the wall of mascras and reading the names all confused "Super Telescopic Carbon Black? Shit, is this a mascara or a telescope sweetheart," he'd tease you before spending another 15 mins finding the exact one you wanted and then buying 3 so you have backups.

He is generally a man of few words, EXCEPT for two places: the bedroom (more on that in a minute) and when he knew you'd reached your social limit at a party or event. Just as you were feeling tapped out you'd feel a warm hand land on your back as he'd step into the conversation, taking the lead and making polite conversation so you could just stand quietly for a bit

The bedroom (and let's be real, all the other places you have sex)- this man is a talker. It's just unending streams of praise, half of them pitying in response to your incoherent whimpers. So much "takin' me so well sweetheart" or "such a good girl for me doll" or "I know baby, I'm going slow. S'alright" or "It's ok sweetheart, make all the noise you need."

He looooovveeesss to see you ride him but his chest and torso are so damn broad that straddling him and getting a rhythm feels impossible. He watches you struggle a bit, your tits mesmerizing him, before he grabs your hips, rocking you baacccck and fooorrttth, his hands occasionally wrapping around to cup and squeeze your ass cheeks.

While he certainly enjoys receiving head, he much MUCH prefers giving it. He loves the sense of total control he has over your pleasure, the way your hands tug at his hair, the way your thighs graze his face, the way "frankie" tumbles from your lips as your whole body trembles.

He fucking loves how soft you are. Soft skin, soft hair, soft squishy thighs. He's constantly kneading you, mumbling "so fuckin' soft" in your ear.

K byyyeeeeee

#frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle fanfic #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle headcanons #frank castle fluff

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kitscutie · 8 months

Note

hiii !! i was wondering can you do a fic where rafe comes and picks the reader up from a girls night out and she’s super drunk? tyy!

girls just wanna have fun (rafe cameron x fem!reader)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: feel bad for y/n and fluff (a little bit of psycho rafe at the end!?)

summary: after a rogue night at the boneyard you are in desperate need of comfort from your knight in shining armour - rafe cameron.

a/n: i am still trying to be more active while school is picking up but please bare with me :)

word count: 773

join my new taglist here!

Rafe pulled up to the Boneyard with a sigh. He was no stranger to this place, sure, but he was so used to being with you at these times when you would drink too much and end up being driven home in his truck. This time was different.

He had received a call from your phone, not from your friends but Kie. She had found you puking behind a log alone which sounded funny had it been anyone but you.

Your so called 'friends' from figure eight had ditched you. Rafe knew they were bitches but you ever with a golden heart had ignored his warnings, excited by their invite to a girls night meaning he could not accompany you. Now, he regretted it.

"Where is she?" He asked approaching the only person apart from you and Kie in attendance that he could mildly stand, Sarah.

She simply pointed to an area of the beach separate from the party, he appreciated that Kie had removed you from prying eyes who would no doubt speak of the Kook Princess' inability to hold alcohol tomorrow had they seen.

"Fucking finally, she wont stop crying." Kiara said, not out of anger but worry. He glanced down at you seeing you curled up in Kie's arms, eyes glassy and red, cheeks stained with tears.

"Hey baby." He said ever so gently, kneeling down to your level in the sand and no doubt ruining his expensive chinos.

"Rafe?" You whispered peeling your head from Kie's shoulder as you dared to take in your surroundings.

"Yeah it's me, you good?" He asked, lifting a hand to remove the strands of sweaty hair which had stuck to your forehead, the humidity of the Outer Banks mixing with your illness making your body ever so slightly too warm.

"No I-, I don't feel well and I can't breathe properly." You hiccupped, anxiety making your heartbeat uneasy. Your hands reached for his ironed black shirt and he let you scrunch it between your fingers, grounding your mind.

Rafe nodded at Kiara, letting her know she could leave with a silent thank you.

"Think you had too much to drink?" He asked, watching as you messily nodded in response. "You'll feel better soon then, yeah? I see you got most of it out already." He chuckled, knowing you had been sick multiple times between this moment and his phone call from Kie.

"Just wanna go home." You mumbled, leaning into his warm chest.

"Okay lets get you up then." He said standing up and taking you with him as you stumbled on your feet. "Lean against me okay? Good girl." He added as you did so. The name was comforting and soft, sure it was sometimes used during sex but in this moment it was more. Reassurance.

He supported you all the way to his truck where he buckled you in with a gentle kiss to your scrunched and rosy cheeks.

"I don't want you speaking to those girls again." He said, hands clenched around the steering wheel while his jaw clicked in place though his anger was not directed at you.

"What Kie and Sarah?" You slurred, "They helped me though." You finished as your eyes squinted beneath the street lights which flickered as you passed.

"No, no. I'd rather you talk to my fuckin' psycho sister at this point I'm talking about those Figure Eight bitches." He seethed making your head snap towards him.

"Number one, they're my friends, number two, you're also a Figure Eight bitch, no?" You giggled to yourself, knowing deep inside that his anger was justified to an extent. They weren't your friends, not really.

"They're not baby, you're kind and sensitive they're stuck up and have no personality outside of generational wealth." He replied. You saw the irony in his words though it appeared he didn't and it wasn't a hill you were ready to die on so you let it go.

"M'kay well, I feel better now you're here and I didn't like them all that much anyway I'm just surprised they would stoop that low." You sighed into the silent atmosphere as the car, feeling his gaze on you.

He softly placed a hand on your bare thigh in the darkness, squeezing it in a gesture of comfort.

"Yeah." He sighed in defeat.

In this moment, looking at you in the moonlight Rafe felt a new sense of protectiveness over you. You were naïve and too forgiving to your own detriment, he wasn't and if he could help it those girls would never see the light of day again, never mind your beautiful face.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron #drew starkey x actress!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #outer banks fic #outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey x fem!reader

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zebuie · 1 month

Text

SACCHARINE

[𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; dealer!ellie x fem!reader

ㅤ→ READ THIS. ⨳ DAILY CLICK

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒:; your friend insists you join her in a party, and you go along not expecting much but little do u know….

[𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; thank u SMM for 100 <3, not proofread, 3k words woops, reader is sick 🤧 (I relate.), swearing, pet names, degrading, strap sucking (e receiving), strap sex (r receiving), eating out (e & r receiving), fingering (e receiving), cum eating (e & r receiving), Ellie calls the strap her dick/cock, aftercare.

Dina was standing over you as you lay in bed, covered in used tissues. "Come onnnnn—You need to go to the party tonight. It's going to be so much fun, and you love parties! Plus, it's been days since you've gotten out of bed, and like I'm kinda worried about you y'know."

you looked at her, nose running and eyes watery. "But I'm so sick," u groaned.

Dina persisted, "Pleeeaaase? It's going to be a blast, nd you never know what could happen. You might even meet someone new or just have a great time! n' don't worry, I'll make sure you have the best time ever. Just say yes."

You sighed and thought for a moment. Despite your illness, you secretly wanted to go to the party. "Fine fuck, okay. I'll go," you mumbled weakly.

Dina's face lit up with excitement. "Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you! " she squealed happily. "I know you won't regret it. Let's get you all dolled up now cmon,"

You groaned inwardly, knowing that getting ready would be a challenge in your current condition. However, deep down, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this party could be the distraction you needed to lift your spirits.

Dina started gathering your clothes and makeup, while you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and wobbled to the bathroom to get ready. Despite feeling like death, you made an effort to look somewhat presentable.

As you stood in front of the mirror, applying makeup half-heartedly, Dina came in with your party attire - a shimmering dress and sleek heels. And She helped you put them on.

Once you were finally ready to go, Dina practically dragged you out the door. The party was just a short walk away, and the sound of music and chatter grew louder with each step. The night air felt cool against your flushed skin, making you shiver slightly.

As you stepped inside the party venue, the vibrant energy hit you like a wave. Colorful lights flickered and danced, and people milled about, chatting and laughing. The music pulsed through the air, the bass making your heart thrum in your chest.

Dina suddenly leaned over to you and whispered, "hey, I'm gonna go get some weed, wanna come with?" You shrugged and nodded, secretly relieved for a chance to get away from the overwhelming party energy.

As you both made your way to her dealer—Ellie, Dina introduced you. "Ellie heyyy, this is my friend-" and before she could even finish her sentence: "No no I know who she is." She responded quickly. "Hi." You said awkwardly. Ellie smiled at you and then turned back to Dina. "Soooo what's up.." Ellie asked Dina.

"We need some weed. Hook us up, please?" Ellie gave you a friendly smile and when you smiled back at her she choked on her spit."uh yeah yeah sure—Let's get you sorted." She said avoiding eye contact with you.

Dina and you followed her to a secluded corner near a makeshift bar, where Ellie discreetly pulled out a small bag of weed from her pocket. "Here you go," she said, handing it to Dina with a casual wave. You noticed her stealing glances at you as she spoke, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction.

As Dina paid for the weed and left to get some drinks, you mustered up the courage to strike a conversation with Ellie. "So, you're the infamous weed dealer around here, hm?" you said playfully. Ellie chuckled and looked at you, a hint of shyness in her eyes.

"Guilty as charged." She replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Dina returned with the drinks and the three of you find solace on a cozy patio behind the bustling party. Ellie takes out a joint and lights it up with expert ease. The smoke swirls around you, filling the air with a musky yet sweet fragrance. As if by unspoken agreement, Ellie offers the joint to you first. You accept it gracefully, taking in the rich scent before taking a small drag and passing it to Dina.

As you pass around the joint, each of you taking turns to inhale and exhale, the tension between you and Ellie seems to ease. The weed adds a hazy yet enjoyable layer to the conversation, making even the simplest topics feel profound.

Ellie takes a hit and turns to you in between coughs, a cheeky grin playing on her lips. "So, what brings you to a party when you're sick, anyway?"

You chuckle, the weed making the memory of your illness feel distant and forgettable. "Dina dragged me here, actually. Said I should get out of my self-imposed exile." You glance at Dina, who nods enthusiastically, a grin plastered on her face.

Ellie takes another puff, her eyes gleaming with laughter. "Well, I for one am glad she did. I mean, look at us enjoying ourselves, weed and all."

The conversation flows effortlessly as you and Ellie exchange stories, each topic leading to another in a chain of stoner introspection.

As the joint makes its way round again, you and Ellie start to lose track of time. The weed has its full effects on you now, turning everything into a fuzzy, comfortable haze. Laughing and sharing stories, the conversation flows like a never-ending river. You notice Dina nodding off beside you, her eyes heavy with intoxication.

Suddenly, Ellie's fingers brushed against yours, sending tingles through your whole body. You look at her and share a smile. Maybe this party wasn't such a bad idea afterall.

"Hey, you alright?" Ellie asks as she notices your glazed eyes and slow speech. "You look absolutely baked."

You manage a lazy smile and a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just feeling really damn relaxed. This weed is strong."

Ellie chuckles. "Well, it's not called weed because it makes you feel uptight."

You giggle, feeling a sudden wave of affection for her. It's as if the weed has lowered all your inhibitions, leaving only the raw, genuine emotions.

Dina stands up and stumbles a little, the mix of drinks and weed making her dizzy. "I think I'm gonna head home," she says, her words slightly slurred. "This weed has me feeling a bit too high."

You nod, understanding. "Be careful on your way home, alright?"

Dina waves a weak goodbye as she leaves to get an Uber. Now it's just you and Ellie, alone in the hazy aftermath of the joint.

You watch as Dina disappears into the night, then turn your attention back to Ellie. As if reading your mind, she suggests, "Wanna head back inside?"

You agree, and the two of you make your way back inside the party. The music is loud and throbbing, and the lights have turned into a dizzying, colorful display. You find a cozy couch and settle down, the weed still clinging to your senses.

You lean back into the cushions, enjoying the soft feel of the fabric against your skin. The buzz of the party fades into the background as you focus your attention on Ellie next to you. The world seems to slow down, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you there, trapped in a private bubble.

"So," Ellie says, breaking the silence, "how long did it take Dina to convince you to actually come out tonight?"

You laugh softly, the memory floating to the forefront of your mind. "Oh, she started pleading about a week ago. She's been on my case for days, saying I've been living like a hermit."

Ellie grins, chuckling softly. "Yeah, sounds like Dina. She really doesn't want you to become a recluse." She pauses, seeming to choose her words carefully. "You know, I'm glad she did manage to drag you out tonight. Otherwise, I might not have gotten the chance to meet you."

For a brief moment, silence blankets the air between you. The world outside of the couch fades into insignificance. All you can focus on is Ellie, her eyes locked with yours.

You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

And then, without a word, you lean in, your lips meeting hers in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

You pull away from Ellie, your heart racing as you gaze into her oh so beautiful eyes.

A soft smile lingers on her lips as she breaks the silence. "We should probably head somewhere more private." She gestures towards a dimly lit corridor that leads to various rooms beyond the party hubbub.

Without a second thought, you nod enthusiastically, taking her hand and leading her towards the door closest to them. Inside, shadows envelope every corner with only moonlight seeping through the barely-there curtains casting eerie patterns on the walls. The cool air in here contrasts nicely with the warmth of Ellie's body pressed against yours; making everything feel intensely personal and intimate.

Her scent fills your senses while you deepen their kisses; tangled hands carding softly through each other's hair.

As you continue to kiss passionately, your hands start to wander; undoing each other's buttons and zips with eager fingers. Soon enough, clothes are discarded in a messy pile on the floor as you stand there—your bodies exposed and vulnerable before one another.

Your eyes never leave each other's as Ellie reaches behind her back, unfastening the clasp of her belt. A soft chuckle escapes her lips when she sees the surprise etched across your face at what she reveals next: a strap on harness tucked under her pants all along.

Ellie grins, stepping closer and running her fingertips along the curves of your hips. "Wanted to catch you off guard." She teases gently.

With a sudden movement, she slips out of her harness; revealing a thick dildo nestled between her legs. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she beckons you forward with an inviting finger.

Ellie runs her fingers through your hair, pressing down on your head just enough to guide you closer until your lips brush against the silky surface of her dick. "Get down," she murmurs huskily, her breath hot against your cheek. You obey without hesitation, leaning forward eagerly; closing your eyes as you take the dildo into your mouth. She moans softly at the sight and feeling of it; running her hands through your hair while slowly rocking her hips—pushing herself deeper into your waiting throat.

Your tongue swirls around the head of her dildo, teasing and flicking it with a tantalizing rhythm. Ellie's moans grow louder, becoming more urgent as you take pleasure in exploring every inch of her toy; making it glisten with your saliva.

She begins to move faster, thrusting harder against your mouth—her hands tightening their grip on your hair. You can feel the tension building within her, each deep push bringing them closer to release.

As Ellie begins to move in time with your movements, the strap of her harness rubs against her sensitive clit with each thrust.

The sensation sends a wave of pleasure coursing through her body; pushing her closer and closer towards climax.

Her breath hitches in your ear as she whispers, "Suck harder." You comply without hesitation, increasing the suction and using your tongue to tease every inch of the silky shaft before you.

Your actions have an immediate effect on Ellie; moans growing louder and more urgent as she nears release. With one final surge forward, she shudders violently—her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave while you continue to suck eagerly; savoring every drop of her sweet essence that seeps from between your lips.

Once Ellie's climax subsides, she gently pulls you away from her cock; guiding you to your feet. Her eyes glow with desire as she moves towards the headboard of the bed, sitting down and positioning herself for what comes next. "Get on top," she commands in a sultry voice that sets your pulse racing. You obey eagerly, straddling her lap; feeling the cool air against your wet folds before slowly lowering yourself onto her waiting dick. The sensation is intense but pleasurable—your body adjusting to accommodate its thickness and length within you.

Ellie's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you adjust to the size of her strap-on. Her voice is low and rough with desire when she speaks, "you love this u dirty slut..being filled by my dick hm? don't you?" She pumps gently into you—each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan softly in response; lost in a haze of lustful submission. "Say it," she commands again, her tone more insistent now.

"Tell me how much you want this cock."You gasp for breath as words tumble from your lips, fueled by the intense sensations coursing through every inch of your body.

"I need this... I want your dick so-so bad.." Your voice is barely above a whisper; full of longing and degradation that only heightens their passion even further.

Ellie growls deep in her throat; loving the sound of your surrender.

She begins to pick up speed, pounding into you harder with every thrust. Her hand snakes between your legs—playing with your clit while she ravages you. "such a whore," she breathes out, her eyes locked on yours as he drives deeper into you.

"A dirty cum-slut who needs my cock hm isn't that right?.. " The taboo words fuel the fire within both of you; making it impossible to hold back any longer.

Your body shudders as pleasure rushes through you; waves of bliss crashing over you like a tsunami. Ellie feels your muscles clamping down tightly around her dick, knowing that it's only a matter of seconds before she pushes you over the edge. She groans loudly—her own release close at hand as she continues to pound into your wet core.

"Cum for me," Ellie demands, her voice thick with desire. "Let me see you come on my cock." The words are like a match to gasoline—your body exploding in ecstasy as you shatter into pieces; waves of pleasure washing over you in an unstoppable tide.

You scream out her name, your muscles clenching tightly around her strap-on as she pushes you further and further towards the brink of blissful oblivion.In the aftermath of your orgasm, Ellie slowly pulls out of you; leaving a trail of slickness behind as she stands up from the bed.

She reaches down to help steady yourself before drawing you close into a tender embrace.

As you catch your breath in Ellie's arms, she gently pushes you away; guiding you down between her thighs. You eagerly bury your face against her wet folds, savoring the sweet taste of her arousal as you settle in for what comes next.

Your fingers slip inside her while your tongue begins to dance around her clit—your actions making Ellie moan loudly and clutch at the sheets. "More," she whispers hoarsely—her body begging for relief from the intense sensations that are building deep within.

You lose yourself in the sensation of Ellie's heat and sweetness around your fingers, her flavors intensifying with each passing moment. Her breath hitches as she edges closer to release—your tongue tracing circles around her swollen clit while you pump your fingers inside her. It's not long before she lets out a loud moan, her body shaking with pleasure as she comes undone on your face.

You lose yourself in Ellie's warmth and flavor as you feast on her sweet pussy. One hand gripping her ass for better leverage, the other buried deep inside her wet folds. Her body trembles beneath you, nearing a climax that's been simmering just beneath the surface. She whimpers loudly, her legs wrapping around your head; holding you tight against her core.

You keep going at it, licking and fingering her like a woman possessed. Her moans get louder, and she's grinding against your face pretty hard now. You can feel her getting close, and you don't want to stop until she screams your name in pleasure. Your fingers move faster inside her while your tongue does its dance on her clit; making sure she feels every inch of attention you're giving her sweet pussy.

It doesn't take much longer now. Ellie's breathing turns erratic, and her body stiffens as waves of pleasure crash over her. You feel her pussy clamping down around your fingers, and she screams your name; flooding your mouth with her cum while you lap it up hungrily.

As Ellie comes down from her orgasm, she pulls you away gently; your mouth filled with her essence. She kisses you deeply—her fingers entwined with yours as she tastes herself on your lips. "God, that was amazing," she murmurs against your skin before running a tender caress down your cheek.

Ellie slowly sinks down between your thighs—her fingers running lightly along your swollen lips before dipping inside to clean you up. You shiver at her touch; lost in the pleasure of her soft tongue tracing every curve, gathering remnants of your cum and spreading them around for her to suck on. It doesn't take long before you're completely clean and she pulls away from you, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.

You cling to the sheets as she continues her tender torment, moaning loudly with each flick of her tongue against your sensitive bud. Her fingers intertwine with yours; pulling you closer until it's impossible to hold back any longer.

Ellie finally draws back; her lips swollen and wet from your taste. She kisses you softly, one hand trailing up to stroke your hair lovingly before she reaches over for a damp cloth. She gently cleans the remaining traces of cum from between your legs—her touch tender yet thorough.

Once you're clean, she presses a kiss to your inner thigh—her hands running soothingly over your body as she gazes up at you adoringly. "So beautiful," she murmurs softly before pulling you close for another embrace. Her soft lips brush against yours in a gentle caress that leaves you breathless; savoring the sweetness of her smile as happiness fills the air around you.

im so bad at endings ahahsjsj buttttt i hope u guys enjoy thissss 😁😁😆😆

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shmaptainwrites · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year.

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make.

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks.

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath.

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?”

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?”

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.”

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest.

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son.

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed.

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do.

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy.

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood.

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more.

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you.

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him.

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down.

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.”

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him.

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.”

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might.

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House.

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?”

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James.

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you.

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you.

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily.

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly.

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head.

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.”

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son.

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.”

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?”

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?”

“That’s not what I-,”

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.”

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment,

“Where is he?” he asked.

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.”

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son.

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest.

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU.

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son.

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold.

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most.

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally.

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked.

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head.

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.”

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area.

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.”

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.”

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?”

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.”

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked.

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor.

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,”

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated.

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.”

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented.

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked.

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James.

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?”

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together.

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.”

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.”

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs.

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands.

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.”

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said.

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed.

“No, no it’s not.”

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you.

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest.

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself.

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away.

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted.

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier.

“No, why?”

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?”

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked.

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?”

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.”

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him.

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news.

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle.

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to.

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own.

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed.

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian.

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes.

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe.

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand.

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.”

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours.

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings.

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.”

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled.

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process.

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off.

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.”

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him.

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.”

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up.

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period.

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.”

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face.

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.”

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station.

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators.

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food.

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.”

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head.

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.”

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party.

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done.

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital.

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital.

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh.

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.”

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork.

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it.

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand.

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths.

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked.

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.”

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.”

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted.

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late.

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time.

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.”

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private.

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!”

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.”

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?”

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?”

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.”

James placed his hands on his hips and said,

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,”

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.”

When he said nothing you continued.

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.”

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head,

“Okay,” he said simply.

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents.

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital.

“No, not this time,” you shook your head.

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together.

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?”

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that.

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up.

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening.

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end.

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?”

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.”

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked.

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.”

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying.

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,”

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside.

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.”

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen.

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea.

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.”

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass.

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.”

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded.

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.”

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding.

“These are all good ideas,” you started.

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?”

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.”

James shook his head.

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.”

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly.

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.”

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.”

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.”

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.”

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light.

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?”

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.”

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him.

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?”

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen.

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing.

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him.

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.”

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you.

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.”

James pressed his lips together and sighed,

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.”

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room.

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses.

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.”

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress.

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room.

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him.

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head,

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…”

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled.

“James I’m begging you-,”

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head.

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out.

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch.

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married.

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food.

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island.

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad.

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you.

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.”

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example.

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.”

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked.

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.”

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled.

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.”

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing.

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.”

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded.

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.”

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh.

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head.

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!”

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.”��

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug.

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.”

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable.

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad.

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.”

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.”

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded.

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James.

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit.

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.”

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?”

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.”

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked.

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.”

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.”

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room.

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep.

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed.

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked.

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed.

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.”

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright.

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?”

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James.

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up.

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice.

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?”

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks.

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.”

“James-,”

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive.

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him.

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in.

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!”

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.”

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay.

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back.

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband.

“No,” he stated just as firmly.

“James-,”

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away.

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter.

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.”

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.”

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?”

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake.

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?”

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.”

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn.

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.”

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian.

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward.

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together.

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible.

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted.

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs.

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?”

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face.

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.”

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you.

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders.

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh.

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed.

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?”

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.”

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?”

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.”

“Is it dangerous?” he asked.

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details.

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.”

“Promise?” Julian whispered.

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.”

“I love you guys too.”

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out.

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said.

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.”

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested.

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together.

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?”

House was silent so James explained,

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.”

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted.

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office.

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked.

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside.

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label.

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically.

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back.

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?”

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand.

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you.

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach.

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one.

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head.

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.”

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned.

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.”

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.”

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago.

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.”

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking.

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well.

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic.

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian.

“He does?”

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,”

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively.

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.”

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours.

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion.

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.”

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.”

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.”

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.”

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply.

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…”

You shook your head.

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.”

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son.

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.”

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect.

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job.

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing.

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle.

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.”

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins.

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.”

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked.

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.”

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.”

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself.

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine.

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other.

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.”

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page.

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look.

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes.

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo.

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.”

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added.

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant.

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy.

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous.

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again.

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel.

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look.

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you.

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you.

“Can I keep this one?” he asked.

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph.

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp.

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head.

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face.

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications.

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies.

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red.

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower.

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head.

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening.

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.”

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son.

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless.

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained.

“And what were you doing up?” you asked.

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands.

“So, is everything okay?”

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower.

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water.

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you.

“A bad dream?” he asked.

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs.

“Was it about us?”

He took your silence as a yes.

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned forward sitting on the bathroom counter.

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest.

“Would you tell me?”

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled.

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again,

“What was it about?”

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak.

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.”

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.”

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.”

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure.

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt.

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently.

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter.

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered.

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head.

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say.

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.”

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?”

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted.

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused.

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.”

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you.

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.”

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer.

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you.

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian.

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face.

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him.

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.”

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James.

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him.

“You don’t mind?”

“Just this once.”

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed.

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep.

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair.

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad.

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?”

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own.

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.”

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.”

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked.

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you.

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said.

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this.

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him.

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?”

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled.

You looked up at James and he shrugged.

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“I could eat,” you nodded your head.

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested.

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?”

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?”

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go.

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings.

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married.

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch.

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow.

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you.

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink.

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?”

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized.

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you.

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.”

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired.

“Do I have to?” you asked.

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked.

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly.

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.”

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.”

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.”

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak,

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on.

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?”

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question.

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough.

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again.

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.”

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern.

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.”

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent.

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.”

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.”

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer.

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls.

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.”

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?”

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?”

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him.

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.”

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.”

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.”

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again.

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear.

“James,” you breathed.

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.”

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart.

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks.

“Jamie?”

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname.

“Yes, my love.”

“Can I count on you?”

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that.

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.”

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face.

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time.

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