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her-satanic-wiles · 19 days ago

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Kinktober Day 28 - Uniform

Brother Imperator x Reader

Copia got his promotion to head of the clergy, and with it a new uniform. And you couldn’t keep your hands off him.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 5.1k.

Reading Time: 21 min.

Warnings: creampie, PIV sex, public sex, thigh riding, vaginal sex, uniform kink, unprotected sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The moment your eyes met his, you knew you were in trouble. For the first time in ages, he’d stripped back the elaborate paints, leaving only the faintest hint of kohl around his eyes, allowing every distinguished line and angle of his face to shine through. His new look was a vision—his smart uniform a departure from the traditional Papal robes, but no less commanding. The suit was a sleek, modern twist on his usual regalia: rich black fabric that hugged his form perfectly, every seam tailored to emphasize his broad shoulders and lean frame. A single, dark blazer sat unbuttoned and fell neatly at the waist, held together by two ruby pins that caught the light like blood-red flames. From them both, a diamond-studded grucifix dangled just over his upper abdomen, the glittering charm drawing your gaze with a dangerous allure. His look was seductive yet regal, an intimidating blend of elegance and dark charm. You could hardly breathe as he approached, each step deliberate, with a knowing glint in his eye that told you he was fully aware of the effect he had on you.

He stepped forward, arms slowly outstretched, his hands still gloved in that familiar, supple leather. The movement itself was an invitation—a silent command to take him in, to fully appreciate the figure standing before you. He said nothing, but the slight tilt of his head and a quiet, almost shy hum conveyed, “This is the new me.” And the transformation was powerful. Gone was the ornate guise of Papa; here stood Frater Copia Imperator, every inch of him exuding authority and confidence, as if the Ministry itself had reshaped to match his presence. The old robes had held him back, binding him to tradition, but this—this new look—carried the weight of true dominion. His domain, his rules, and he seemed to bask in it, his gaze dark and intent, as though savoring the scope of his control.

This wasn’t just Copia; it was Copia unleashed, finally embracing his true place. Like Lucifer reigning over Hell, he was perfectly in his element, ready to rule with an intensity that sent a thrill through your core.

You, however, were too thrilled about his new uniform to even consider the consequences of this promotion. You just wanted that chain dangling in your face as he -

“I don’t know who the new Papa is yet,” Copia told you, pulling you out of your horny musings. “Apparently he will be arriving soon, but I don’t know.”

Copia’s words pulled you out of your daze, but only for a moment. That glint in his eye, the way his fingers traced the edge of the ruby pin on his blazer—it stirred something deeper. You tried to refocus, to keep your thoughts on his words instead of the sinful path your mind had wandered down. But when he shifted, the delicate grucifix on its diamond-studded chain swayed, catching the light and drawing your gaze right back to it, and him.

“Hmm,” he murmured, watching you closely, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “Seems like I’ve already lost you.” He stepped in closer, his gloved hand reaching out to cup your chin, bringing your gaze up to meet his. His thumb traced a slow circle along your jaw, the leather sending a shiver through you. “Were you even listening to me, tesoro?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words tangled as he leaned in, the chain now dangling just above your lips. He lowered himself even closer, enough that his breath warmed your skin. “Distracted, hm?” he whispered, voice as smooth and dark as velvet. “Or is it something else you’re interested in?”

With an amused tilt of his head, he straightened just slightly, but his grip on your chin remained firm. The chain hovered enticingly between you both, and the glint of the rubies seemed to cast a soft, scarlet hue over his eyes. “What were you thinking about just now?” he teased, his voice low, drawing out the words with a lazy, knowing tone.

Your heart raced as you felt yourself flush under his gaze. He let his gloved thumb slip down, tracing your lower lip, his smile deepening as you trembled under his touch.

The restraint you’d been trying so hard to keep shattered in an instant. Words wouldn’t cut it now; only action would. Before he could utter another teasing word, you launched yourself at him, fingers curling into the collar of his blazer as you pressed your body flush against his. He barely had time to gasp, his eyes widening before they darkened with a raw hunger of his own.

The chain swung between you, grazing against your chest as you pressed him against the wall, your lips crashing into his with all the ferocity of pent-up desire. He gave a low, muffled moan, hands moving to grip your waist, steadying himself as you pinned him there. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your gaze fierce and unwavering.

“Oh,” he breathed, voice rough and laced with amusement. “Not even going to tell me what you want first? Just taking it, eh?” His smirk was devilish, eyes hooded as he leaned forward, lips brushing your jawline. “As bold as ever, tesoro.”

Your fingers slid down, finding the clasp of his belt, your intentions laid bare in the determined way you worked it open. He sucked in a sharp breath, his gloved hands sliding up your sides, encouraging you, grounding himself in the pressure of your touch.

“Here?” he murmured, glancing around the empty corridor but not looking the least bit reluctant. “Right here in the open, where anyone could see?” His voice dripped with exhilaration at the idea. The thrill in his eyes was unmistakable as he tugged you even closer, his hands roving possessively over your body.

“Oh, let them,” you whispered, pressing a fierce kiss to his throat as his head fell back. “I refuse to wait any longer.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest at your words, and any remaining control he had snapped. With a rough pull, he reversed your positions, pinning you back against the wall, his body pressed firmly against yours. His gaze bore into you, pupils blown wide with desire, the gleam of his chain catching the dim light as it swung between you both. He brought a gloved hand up, tracing it down the side of your face, down your throat, finally stopping to rest on your collarbone, his fingers curling just enough to feel your pulse racing under his touch.

“You have no idea what you’ve started,” he murmured, his voice a dark promise as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The heat of him, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint leather from his gloves, was intoxicating, overwhelming your senses as he kissed his way down your neck, teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver.

With one swift movement, he slipped a leg between yours, pressing his thigh against you as his hands found your waist, holding you firmly against him. The friction, even through your clothing, was electric, sending shockwaves through you. He smirked against your neck, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “Look at you,” he whispered, his tone darkly amused as he ground his thigh ever so slightly, “already unraveling for me, and I’ve barely even started.”

You tightened your grip on his blazer, feeling your resolve slipping away completely. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, daring him, your voice rough with need.

He chuckled, his lips curving against your skin. “Oh, I won’t.” His voice dropped lower, every word a promise. “But I’m going to take my time with you, right here. Let every inch of this place echo with the sounds of us.” His fingers found the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath to brush against your bare skin, igniting every nerve with his touch.

As his mouth claimed yours once more, his kiss was slower, more intense, his movements deliberate as if he wanted to make you feel every second of it. His gloved hand moved to your chest, thumb brushing over your skin, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed eagerly. The thrill of the forbidden, the possibility of being caught, only seemed to drive him further, his kiss growing deeper, more insistent, as his hands roamed possessively over you, leaving no inch of you untouched.

And as he pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you, a wicked gleam in his gaze, he leaned in close and whispered, “By the time I’m done, tesoro, everyone here will know exactly who you belong to.”

Your movements grew more desperate, grinding against his thigh as his hands roamed your body, each touch and squeeze lighting you up in ways you hadn’t felt in so long. He held you firmly, almost possessively, his fingers digging into your hips to guide your movements, pressing you harder against him with each roll of your body. His breathing grew heavier, his lips never far from your skin, leaving trails of hot, lingering kisses down your neck.

His gloved hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your clothes, his fingers brushing over your skin with a tantalizing slowness that made you shudder. He paused there, his mouth close to your ear as he murmured, “Look at you, so eager for me.” His voice was low, laced with a dark amusement that sent a thrill through you, making you push against him harder, needing the friction, needing him.

Copia chuckled, dark and deep, his thigh pressing up with just the right pressure, making you gasp. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” His hand traced back up, gliding over your chest, fingers grazing the sensitive spots he knew so well, making your head spin. “You want more?” he asked, though he already knew the answer, his eyes gleaming with a devilish satisfaction as he watched your reaction.

“Please…” you breathed, barely able to form words under his touch.

He smirked, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a mockingly tender gesture. “That’s it,” he purred. “I want to hear you beg for it, right here. Let everyone know what you need from me.”

The sheer thrill of his demand had you trembling against him, and as his thigh pressed harder, his fingers digging into your skin, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You moaned softly, moving against him with wild abandon, feeling him take in every sound, every shiver as his mouth claimed yours again, consuming you in a searing, possessive kiss that left you aching for more.

The pressure built until it was overwhelming, each roll of your hips pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His thigh pressed firmly against you, his hand gripping your waist with just enough force to ground you yet keep you spiraling. His mouth was at your neck, lips moving hot and slow, and you felt yourself unraveling, unable to hold back any longer.

And then it happened—a rush of pleasure crashing over you, your body trembling as you came right there, held in place by his hands and the unrelenting press of his thigh. The intensity left you breathless, your fingers clutching his blazer, as though clinging to him was the only thing keeping you steady.

He groaned softly as he felt you shudder against him, his gaze darkening with satisfaction. “There we go,” he murmured, his tone rich with pride and something even deeper, a possessive glint in his eye. “Just like that, tesoro.”

His hand stroked your back in lazy, soothing circles as you caught your breath, barely able to comprehend what you’d just done, right there in the middle of the corridor. But he didn’t look the least bit surprised—in fact, he seemed thrilled, his gaze roving over you with a smug sense of accomplishment.

Before you could say a word, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Now, shall we continue somewhere more… private? I’m far from finished with you.”

“I refuse to wait any longer,” you panted. “Please just fuck me, Copia.”

A flash of something dark and eager crossed his face, and before you could even draw another breath, he spun you around, pressing your back against the wall with a controlled urgency that made your pulse quicken. His fingers hooked into the gusset of your panties, pulling them aside with a rough, unhesitating motion, his other hand already freeing himself from his trousers.

The moment was electric, charged with a tension that had been building too long. He didn’t waste another second, aligning himself and pressing into you in one smooth, deep thrust that stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation was overwhelming, his heat and weight pressing you firmly into the wall, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel as if you might float away. His grip on your hips was strong, possessive, his fingers digging in just enough to leave you tingling.

He held himself there for a heartbeat, his forehead pressing to your shoulder, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he felt you wrapped around him. Then, his grip tightened, and he began to move, his thrusts slow at first, deliberate, each one sinking in deeply, pulling another soft, breathy moan from you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, words punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts. “So needy, couldn’t wait another second… I love it when you’re this desperate for me.”

His pace quickened, his hands sliding up your waist, holding you in place as he took what you’d so eagerly asked for, his hips snapping forward with a building intensity. Each thrust seemed to drive him deeper, his control slipping as he gave in to the pleasure, his breaths ragged in your ear as he pushed you toward that blissful edge once more.

His movements became more urgent, each thrust driving you harder against the wall, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing through the corridor. You could feel every inch of him inside you, stretching and filling you, and it only heightened your desire, pushing you closer to the brink without letting you fall over.

“Copia…” you gasped, the sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You were lost in a haze of sensation, your body responding eagerly to every thrust, every shudder that ran through you as he rocked into you. He felt impossibly good, and the way he held you—his grip possessive yet tender—made you ache for more.

His lips found their way to your neck, hot against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that ignited every nerve ending. “That’s right, tesoro,” he murmured, his breath warm against you, sending shivers down your spine. “Let me hear you. Let me know how much you want this.”

You moaned softly, pushing back against him instinctively, seeking more friction, more of that delicious pressure building within you. He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your eagerness, and he quickened his pace just slightly, teasing you with the promise of more without granting you release.

“You want it harder?” he taunted, his voice low and dripping with lust. “You’ll have to earn it. Show me how badly you need it.”

With that, he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made your head spin. The sensation was electric, and you gasped, feeling the heat pool low in your belly, but he was relentless, holding you right there on the precipice, teasing you with his control. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, building tension but denying you the sweet release you craved.

“Sathanas, you’re beautiful like this,” he breathed, his eyes dark with desire, locking onto yours as he continued to push you further into bliss. “So responsive… so fucking perfect.”

You writhed against him, desperate and aching, needing more, but he held you firmly in place, a wicked grin on his lips as he relished in your frustration, taking his time to savour every moment.

With a swift, commanding motion, he pulled out, leaving you breathless and wanting. The abruptness of it sent a shiver through you, a mix of anticipation and urgency swelling in your chest. “Get down,” he ordered, his voice low and firm, eyes darkened with desire.

You didn’t hesitate, the need to obey overriding any hesitation. You sank down onto the cool corridor floor, the surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. As you lay back, your heart raced, both from the thrill of his command and the way his gaze devoured you, hungry and insatiable.

Copia moved over you, his body looming above like a dark, predatory silhouette. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open for him, the intensity of his stare sending jolts of excitement through you. “I want to see you,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust as he lined himself up once more.

With a sharp thrust, he entered you again, deeper this time, and you gasped as he filled you completely. The weight of him pressed you into the floor, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the chain hanging from his neck swing and sway tantalizingly in front of your face, glimmering in the dim light.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and you did, locking eyes with him as he drove into you, his expression a mix of pleasure and authority. The force of his movements sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, his body perfectly in sync with yours, creating a heady rhythm that left you gasping and wanting more.

“You’re mine,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust, the intensity in his voice matched only by the way he filled you. The chain danced tantalizingly close, swaying with every forceful movement, a physical manifestation of his power and control. You could hardly think, lost in the delicious friction and the way he possessed you, your body responding to every demanding push, every glorious pull.

Each powerful thrust brought the chain closer, its cool metal brushing against your cheek and lips, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sensation was maddening, and you could hardly focus on anything else—the rhythm of his hips, the way he moved inside you, the intoxicating sight of him looming over you, chain swinging with every thrust, an emblem of his dominance.

As he continued to thrust into you, the chain swinging tantalizingly closer, you felt an overwhelming urge to taste him, to take in every part of him that you could. Your gaze fixed on the diamond grucifix dangling from his neck, the cool metal glimmering in the low light, and a wicked idea sparked in your mind.

With a quick movement, you reached up, grabbing the chain and pulling it closer to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the grucifix, sucking on it as if it were his cock, the sharp, metallic taste mingling with the heat radiating off your body. It felt deliciously forbidden, a bold display of your need for him, and you could see the surprise flicker in his eyes, quickly replaced by something darker—hunger.

Copia’s thrusts stuttered for a moment, the sight of you eagerly sucking on the chain driving him wild. “Is that what you want, tesoro?” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, as he regained his rhythm. “You want to worship me like this?”

You nodded, still sucking on the grucifix, letting your tongue glide over the smooth surface, teasing it as you would with his cock. The action sent a thrill through him, and he picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more forceful, each movement pushing the grucifix deeper into your mouth, forcing you to take in more of the chain, feeling it cold against your lips.

The sensation was intoxicating, and the combination of his deep thrusts and the way you worshipped the grucifix left you breathless. You could feel the tension coiling within you, the line between pleasure and desperation blurring as you surrendered completely to the moment.

Copia’s breath grew ragged, each thrust driving him closer to his own climax. “That’s it, just like that,” he urged, his voice a mix of praise and urgency, each word sending heat coursing through you. “You’re perfect for this—such a good little pet.”

As he thrust deeper, you felt an insatiable urge rising within you, an overwhelming desire to amplify the pleasure coursing through your body. With your lips still wrapped around the grucifix, you let out a low, muffled moan that reverberated against the cool metal. The sound sent shivers of pleasure racing through you, echoing in the dimly lit corridor, as you began to touch yourself.

Your fingers moved eagerly between your legs, seeking out that sweet spot that had been yearning for attention. The sensation of your own fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, combined with the rhythmic pounding of his hips, sent shockwaves of ecstasy through you. You could feel every pulse of his thrusts inside you, each one making your fingers tingle with excitement as you rubbed your clit with a fervor that matched the intensity of the moment.

Copia’s gaze was fixated on you, his dark eyes blazing with hunger as he watched you pleasure yourself while he drove into you. “Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking desperate for it. Don’t stop, tesoro. Let me hear you.”

You obeyed, your moans spilling out around the grucifix as you continued to suck on it, the metal a reminder of his dominance. Each thrust met your fingers moving with urgency, and you could feel the pressure building, both inside and outside, intertwining in a way that threatened to consume you whole.

“Good girl,” he praised, his pace becoming even more erratic, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the corridor. “You’re going to make me lose control, you know that? I want you to come for me while I’m buried deep inside you.”

The heat pooling low in your belly swelled, and you felt your body responding to his words, an electric thrill coursing through your veins. You moaned louder around the grucifix, the combination of your own touch, his powerful thrusts, and the deliciously forbidden act of sucking on the chain pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

With every movement, you lost yourself further in the blissful haze of pleasure, the world narrowing down to just the two of you—his thrusts, your moans, the grucifix swinging gently in the air, and the desperate need to feel him fill you completely as you chased that sweet release.

The pressure inside you reached a crescendo, building to an almost unbearable peak as you continued to work your fingers frantically, the urgency of your movements intensifying. You could feel every thrust from Copia, each one driving you closer to that edge, and the sweet sound of your moans around the grucifix only heightened your need.

Then, as if a dam had broken, the pleasure erupted within you like a tidal wave. The orgasm washed over you, more powerful than anything you had ever experienced before, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed. Your body trembled as the waves of ecstasy surged through you, making your toes curl and your back arch off the floor. You cried out around the grucifix, the sound mingling with the raw desire in the air, echoing through the corridor as you surrendered completely to the bliss.

Copia’s grip tightened on your thighs, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he felt your body clench around him, your orgasm pulling him closer to the edge. The sensation of you coming around him was overwhelming, and he couldn’t help but thrust deeper, seeking his own release even as he reveled in the way your body reacted to him.

“Fuck, yes!” he gasped, his voice a mix of awe and lust, completely enthralled by the sight of you lost in pleasure beneath him. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

As you rode the waves of your orgasm, you could feel your body pulsing around him, milking him with each spasm. The sensation heightened your pleasure even further, and the heat radiating from him added to the intoxicating mix. You let out one final, guttural moan, the sound echoing off the walls, as your body trembled in the aftermath of your release.

With each thrust, Copia felt the tension coiling tightly within him, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he watched you ride the waves of your orgasm, completely lost in ecstasy. The sight of you—your body trembling beneath him, fingers still working furiously at your clit—drove him wild, urging him closer to his own release. He could feel the tightness of your walls clenching around him, coaxing him into that sweet abyss, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through his entire body.

“Sathanas,” he groaned, his voice thick with need, the intensity of the moment washing over him. “I can’t hold on any longer.” He thrust harder, the urgency in his movements increasing, desperation fueling his every action. Each powerful push drove him deeper, bringing him closer to the edge, and he couldn’t help but lose himself in the overwhelming pleasure of it all.

As the world around him faded away, all he could focus on was you—your beauty, your moans, the way your body responded to him. “I’m coming,” he breathed, just before his release crashed over him like a tidal wave.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, the heat of his body merging with yours as he let go completely. He came hard, filling you with a warmth that spread through your core, the sensation of him spilling inside you pushing you back toward the edge once more. You gasped in shock and delight at the feeling, a mixture of his release and your own, amplifying the bliss that coursed through you both.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed, his voice thick with satisfaction, as he rode out the waves of his climax, his body trembling as he remained anchored deep within you. The weight of him pressing down, combined with the warmth of his release, wrapped around you like a cocoon, leaving you both breathless and euphoric.

For a moment, time stood still as you lay there together, lost in the aftermath of your pleasure, the connection between you both tangible and electric. The corridor felt like your own private sanctuary, filled with the remnants of your shared ecstasy, and as you looked up into his dark, smoldering eyes, you knew this was just the beginning of what he could give you.

As Copia pulled out of you, the warmth of his body lingered in the cool corridor, leaving you both breathless and delightfully spent. He turned to lay beside you, a satisfied grin plastered across his face, the glow of post-coital bliss still evident in his eyes. The corridor felt like a world of its own, the thrill of what had just happened hanging in the air like a sultry fog.

Just as he was about to tuck himself away, a Brother of Sin strolled by, nonchalantly whistling a tune under his breath. You both froze, eyes wide, as he paused, glancing down at Copia. With an exaggerated eyebrow raise, he took in the scene before him: the disheveled state of both of you, the lingering signs of passion, and, of course, Copia’s still-exposed cock, glistening slightly in the dim light.

“Frater… Sorella,” the Brother acknowledged with a casual nod of his head, a smirk creeping across his lips. His eyes danced with amusement as he continued, “Looks like you’ve had a productive meeting, eh?”

Copia, ever the dramatic one, flushed a deep crimson, sputtering for words as he scrambled to cover himself. “I—I was just—uh, discussing… duties! Yes, very important duties!” he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

The Brother chuckled, shaking his head as he continued walking, “Don’t let me interrupt your… practical training. Just remember, we have a reputation to uphold!” His voice trailed off, the mischievous tone lingering in the air.

Copia groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes in embarrassment, while you burst into laughter, unable to contain the joy of the moment. “Oh, this is just perfect!” you said, still giggling at the absurdity of it all. “Only us, right?”

Copia rolled onto his side, still flustered but unable to hide his own laughter. “At least I know my meetings are memorable,” he replied, a grin creeping back onto his face. “Next time, I’ll try to keep my—” he gestured vaguely at himself, “—professionalism intact.”

“Or maybe just find a more private location?” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He chuckled, the embarrassment fading as the moment turned into yet another inside joke between you, the warmth of shared pleasure and laughter mingling together in the most delightful way.

Copia raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, is that so?” he replied, leaning on one elbow to look at you, his expression a mix of feigned outrage and amusement. “I would like to remind you that this location was your idea!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a bright sound that echoed off the corridor walls. “Well, I didn’t think we’d have an audience today!” you shot back, unable to suppress the grin on your face. “It’s not my fault that you have a penchant for the dramatic, Frater.”

“Dramatic?” he feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. “I prefer to call it enthusiastic! Just look at how well it turned out!” He gestured around the corridor, as if the very walls would applaud his romantic choices.

With a dramatic flourish, he added, “It’s not every day you get to mix duty with a little… extracurricular activity.” He winked, his confidence returning, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“Extracurricular, huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” you quipped, nudging him playfully.

“Absolutely!” he replied, puffing out his chest in mock seriousness. “And let it be known: I am fully committed to the role of dedicated educator in our… field studies.”

“Right. I’m sure the Ministry will be thrilled to hear about your ‘educational’ methods,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Just try to keep it down next time, or we might end up with more than just curious Brothers wandering by.”

“Deal! But no promises if the curriculum gets a little… intense,” he winked, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, and you both burst into laughter once again.

Prev./Next

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woso-fan13 · 1 year ago

Text

Comfortember 2023: 28 (Arsenal)

28. Flashbacks

Leah jumps from the bench, shouting as the ball hits the back of the net. You’re looking around on the pitch, in disbelief that you just scored a goal. Your confusion doesn’t last long, though, as you’re quickly tackled in a group hug.

Watching you celebrate, Leah can’t help but remember the first time she met you.

You were a painfully shy teenager meeting the players that you had looked up to for years. Not only were you meeting them, you were meeting them as a new player.

You had barely talked, only answered questions as quickly and as quietly as you could. In all honesty, Leah could only think about how hard it was going to be to have to play with you when she had to coax every little piece of information out.

And then you got a football at your feet. With a football at your feet, you were a different person. You completely lit up, all the traces of the shy little girl had vanished as you dominated the pitch. You were going to fit right in.

—-

Viv nudged Beth, nodding her head to where you were talking to a few of your teammates. Your eyes were wide, arms gesturing as you animatedly told some story that no one could quite follow.

The two women shared a small smile, reflecting.

You had taken a while to warm up to the team, but you had grown close with Viv and Beth relatively quickly. Some of the other players teased you that you were Meadema’s child, to which you would frown and insist against.

But, sometimes, Beth and Viv did feel like you were their child. The way they would have to lead you by the hand out to the pitch, shoving you gently to go interact with other teams. It was extremely reminiscent of dropping a child off on their first day of school, pushing them into a classroom and watching through the window as their terrified little eyes flickered around the classroom.

It was all worth it, though, when the child began begging to stay at school.

—-

Nervously waiting on the edge of the pitch, Alessia was about to be subbed in for her first game for Arsenal. This was the game that would determine the rest of her career, and half the stadium was booing her. She wanted to find somewhere secluded and never leave, but she knew that she couldn’t. Instead, she looks down. Twisting the familiar friendship bracelet, she takes a breath before jogging onto the field.

“Hi!”

A cheerful voice startles Alessia. She turns around, looking down to see a young player a good head shorter than her.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. I know you’re probably scared for your first day, but you don’t have to be. The team’s really nice, I promise.”

You grin at Alessia, watching as some of the nerves leave her body.

“I know who you are, Y/N, I’ve got some friends who can’t stop bragging about you. I’m looking forward to playing with you.”

“It’s gonna be fun, Arsenal’s great! Which reminds me, I have something for you. Close your eyes and stick out your hand,” you instruct.

Alessia’s hesitant to follow these odd directions from the girl she’s just met, but she does it anyway. Feeling something light land on her palm, she opens her eyes when she’s allowed to. Looking down, her confusion is clear.

“They’re friendship bracelets- different colours to match the different kits. I made them for all of the girls, and now that you have some you’re officially part of the team!”

#womens soccer #woso imagines #reader insert #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #arsenal women #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso community #women football #arsenal x reader #arsenalwfc #arsenal wfc

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dreamwatch · 1 year ago

Text

STWG daily drabble - 28/09/23

Prompt: horse

Warnings: mentions of chronic pain

This is the longest thing I have ever shared, and the weirdest thing I have ever written. I have literally zero idea where this came from. It's not beta'd, apologies for typos etc. This is just shy of 2.5k words, so yeah... not so Drabble actually.

****

“So, what’s on your mind today, Eddie?”

He sees Doctor Pearcey every Wednesday at 2pm. Has done now for two months. And it’s the first thing she says to him every time he sits down. What’s on your mind today, Eddie? He’s responded in various ways. With anger. With humour. With distrust. On one particularly memorable day, with silence, which Doctor Pearcey matched in spades. The two of them sat there for an hour and didn’t say a single word. Eddie wanted to peel his skin off about ten minutes into it.

He’s in more pain than usual today, has a lower tolerance for her psychobabble mumbo jumbo, so he’s already looking to derail the session before he gets in the room.

“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Eddie asks her.

“No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“Hmm, couple of times.”

There’s silence for a minute or so. It’s like they’re playing therapy chicken, who gives in and speaks first? It’s usually him.

“I like them. Like how fast they are, you know? How free you feel on them.” He digs his thumb into the leather of the armchair, leaving little crescent nail marks.

“And what’s got you thinking about that today?”

The beautiful purple Kawasaki he passed on his way here today would be the easy answer. But when did he ever do anything easy?

“Wayne hates them. I’ve been wanting one for years, but he begged me not to. Asked me to wait till I was twenty one. I think he thought I would just grow out of it.”

“And have you?”

“Fuck no. I want one more than ever.”

She waits.

“I’m twenty one next week, and I won’t be getting a motorcycle because my leg is fucked, and I can’t twist or move properly.” He doesn’t bother hiding the bitterness. “It doesn’t matter, I mean, it’s whatever at this point, just another thing I can’t do, add it to the fucking pile, right?”

He changes the subject and she follows along behind waiting for breadcrumbs. Eventually their time comes to an end and he’s desperate to get out.

“Do you trust me, Eddie?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You work for the spook agency that started this fucking nightmare. So, no, not really.”

She smiles back. “That’s fair.” She walks to her desk and scribbles a note before handing it to him. Eddie takes it from her like it’s poisonous.

“Meet me at that address on Sunday. Two PM. I’ll be waiting.”

And that is definitely not how the sessions usually end.

——

Wayne is working so Steve offers to take him. And Eddie isn’t going to say no to spending some time with him, especially when he’s walking into the unknown. Although the unknown appears to be…

“A horse sanctuary? Why the fuck does she want to meet you at a horse sanctuary?”

“Maybe she’s going to shoot me and put me out of my misery.”

Steve slaps him against the chest with the back of his hand. “Dude.”

“Sorry.”

He sees her standing at a fence watching a couple of horses wander around the paddock. The ground is a little rough below his feet and his leg has been a complete nightmare all week, so Steve walks with him, hand gently resting at Eddie’s elbow as he traverses the uneven ground with his cane. It makes him grateful and fucking furious all at the same time. Such is his life these days.

“You came. I’m glad,” she says, smiling brightly.

“Well, my curiosity door was opened,” replies Eddie and Steve stifles a laugh beside him.

Steve heads back to the car, squeezes Eddie’s elbow gently, before saying goodbye to the Doc. She watches the exchange intently, and Eddie feels entirely scrutinised. He hasn’t spoken about Steve in the sessions, has no intention of doing so and the last person he would want to know about it is someone that works for the fucking feds.

“So, why am I here, exactly?”

“I thought you might like to get out of that stuffy office for a change. You never seem very comfortable.”

Eddie laughs. “Uh huh, and what is it that gave you the impression I’d be comfortable in a field full of horses?”

She shrugs. “Humour me.”

See, it was shit like that that drove Eddie crazy. Humour me. It’s Sunday. Right now he could be lying on his bed playing guitar, reading, hanging out with Steve. He could be jerking off. All of which was preferable to standing in a field full of horseshit.

“Okay, well I’m not in a humorous mood, so I’m going to leave you to your equine endeavours.” He turns to leave.

“There’s someone I want you to meet. Before you go. Will only take a minute.” The Doc waves at a stable hand and a few minutes later Eddie is face to face with a beautiful white horse.

“I swear to god, if you tell me his name is Shadowfax…”

She laughs. “No, this is Tony. Tony, meet Eddie.” Tony whinnies, nodding his head up and down, his mane blowing gently in the wind. Eddie smiles. God damn her.

Eddie reaches over the fence to stroke Tony. This gorgeous, graceful animal, and it’s called fucking Tony.

“He’s beautiful. How come he’s here?”

“He was a race horse, I believe. But he was slow, didn’t make his owners any money. So now he gets to live here and lead a good life.”

“Doesn’t he miss racing? Like, aren’t they bred for that? What does he do all day if he can’t race anymore?”

“It wasn’t meant to be. But he’s patient, and kind and now he helps people learn to ride. And he’s very, very good at that.” She turns to face him, one arm hooked over the fence. “You said you were disappointed at not being able to ride a motorcycle? Correct?”

Where the fuck was this going?

“Yeah… ?”

“Why ride a steel horse when you can ride the real thing?”

Eddie splutters. “You have to be kidding me?” She just keeps smiling. He stares at her, open mouthed and wide eyed. “You’re fucking serious?”

“I’m fucking serious,” she says, with a glint of mischief. “You wanted the freedom and the excitement of riding. Well, I’m offering it to you. Or, Tony’s offering it to you, really.”

He looks between her and Tony. “Did you miss the part about my leg being fucked? How the hell am I even supposed to get up there? And what if I fall? No, absolutely not.”

The Doc gives him a long hard stare. “Do you trust me?” she ask him.

“No.”

“The sanctuary has a programme for disabled riders. Tony is the best of the best. You’d be perfectly safe. Come on, Eddie. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“This was… very nice, I guess, of you to think about this, but no. Sorry. It’s not the same as a bike, like at all. I have control of the bike, my bike can’t just run off and start jumping over fences and shit.”

“No, but your bike’s not smart. Tony is smart. He’s kind. He feels his rider, he knows what they need, knows when they’re scared. He fills in the gaps, takes the lead when a rider needs it, hands them back control when they don’t. He can guide you. Look after you. Your bike can’t do that.”

He feels his resolve wane. He sighs. Animals, they get him every time.

“People get hurt riding horses.”

“Sure, but they don’t call motorbikes donorcycles for nothing, Eddie.” Touché.

He shakes his head, this is such a stupid idea, but eventually that little pixie voice in his head just says fuck it, and within fifteen minutes he’s wearing a very unflattering helmet, climbing a mounting block and being helped into the saddle on Tony’s back.

He feels like he’s going to slip off the other side, and every time Tony moves his head forward toward the ground Eddie panics because it feels like he’ll just lean forward and drop like a rock to the ground. It's incredibly disorienting.

Eddie grips the reins so hard he sees his knuckles go white until the instructor shows him how to hold them properly. They show him how to guide Tony but ultimately Tony is doing all the work here, Eddie is just along for the ride.

He’s led around the paddock, and yeah, he feels stupid at first, self conscious sitting up in the air for everyone to see. But eventually he gets into the swing of it, and it’s… nice. Nerve wracking, but nice.

They’re going at walking speed, he can feel the rhythmic sway of Tony’s body, and it’s comforting. Why is it comforting? It’s not exactly the Kentucky Derby, but he can’t stop himself from grinning.

Eddie knows fuck all about horses, less than fuck all actually, but if he didn’t know better he’d say that Tony was enjoying himself. And as much as he hates that she’s right, he feels at peace. Feels like he trusts this animal, who he literally just met, but who seems to be having a ball wandering around with this asshole on his back.

“Wanna pick it up a bit?” asks the instructor and Eddie’s about to say ‘fuck no’ when Tony comes to a stop. Like he knows Eddie’s not sure. Eddie strokes along Tony’s thick, white mane, and pats his shoulder.

“Eurgh, yeah, shit, okay,” he says before leaning forward and whispering in Tony’s ear, “look after me, okay? Cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing up here.” Tony answers with a swooping nod of the head and then they’re off.

They’re barely going any faster as Tony trots around the paddock, but Eddie can definitely feel the difference. The soft, comforting sway has been replaced by a harder jolt. He’s going to pay for it tomorrow, can already feel it in his hips and back, and he hasn’t got the strength in his leg to properly push up from the stirrups, but it doesn’t matter.

The last time he was on a motorcycle he was seventeen, and it belonged to a friend of Reefer Rick’s. He was riding pillion and they were going way over the speed limit, and he’d never felt more alive, more free. He was young enough and dumb enough to think he’d never get hurt. He was invincible at seventeen. He wasn’t even a little bit scared of falling off. The folly of youth.

In three short years the folly of youth has been replaced with constant dread and a little bit of paranoia.

This isn’t the same as that careless charge up the highway, not by a long shot, but it’s exciting in it’s own way, like going on a roller coaster instead of walking through an alternate universe.

He feels at peace. A moment in time when he’s not having to think about doctors appointments, worrying about Wayne, worrying about his future. His life has got so small since March. The kids are at school and he’s not, but he can’t work so he spends endless unfilled hours at home, waiting for other people to have space for him.

The constant churn in his mind slows, his thoughts empty, his worries silence.

They go back to a steady walk, Tony’s body lilting from side to side, a gentle rock. Eddie already loves him. He’s a fucking sap. Horses? Rich people pets? No way man, not for him. But this guy, this is Eddie’s guy now.

As they turn in the paddock he sees Steve leaning over the fence, grinning.

“Nice hat!” Asshole.

Eddie flips him off but Steve just laughs, sunglasses pushed back up on his head. Steve can read him like a book, and Eddie knows he can see it. The complicated emotions today is bringing out in him. The joy and the excitement and the little bit of sadness. Steve raises his eyebrows, that little silent okay? Eddie smiles shyly and nods in response. They’ll talk properly later, when Eddie is trying to unpack everything.

It’s over too soon. Eddie’s helped down and fuck, yeah he’s in a little pain now, but Jesus it was so worth it. He pats Tony, strokes his neck, tells him what a beautiful boy he is, and Tony leans over nudges his nose against the side of Eddie’s face. There is a conversation happening between them, just this little quiet acknowledgement of something. Eddie doesn’t want to leave him. He feels… changed, weirdly. Like it was spiritual. Like something inside him got cracked open just a little.

“So?”

Doctor Pearcey stands behind him, looking pretty pleased with herself.

He tilts his head to the side, makes a big show of it. “Yeah, it was okay.” Eddie knows she sees through his bullshit. They’ll be talking about this next week. No need to go through it all now.

They head back to the car, Steve at his elbow again, and Doctor Pearcey hands him a card with the sanctuary number on. “Just in case you’d like to come back.”

He does. Wayne is going to enjoy giving him shit, and he doesn’t even want to think of the number of jockey jokes in his future, but he really does want to do this again.

The car ride is quiet on the way home, just the sound of some top forty shit in the background, but Eddie’s mind is elsewhere. He feels still, his head is clear and quiet. Ridiculously relaxed.

“How’s your ass?” asks Steve.

Eddie grins. “Haven’t had any complaints.”

“Jesus Christ.” But he’s laughing. They’re both laughing.

“So, you want to do it again? We can make it regular, I’ll just make sure Keith doesn’t schedule me for Sundays.”

Eddie stares at the side of Steve’s face. This guy. This fucking guy.

“You’d do that?”

“Of course I would.” Steve looks studiously out at the road, hands firmly at ten and two. “I’d do anything for you.”

Eddie feels like he’s skipped a breath, but tentatively reaches his hand across the console and pokes at Steve’s thigh. Steve takes a hand off the wheel, reaches blindly to find Eddie’s, gives it a little squeeze before letting go. They don’t look at each other.

He leans back in his seat, imagines Tony, galloping, mane trailing behind him in the wind. Just beautiful.

Why the fuck did they call him Tony?

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #cw chronic pain #stranger things #not really that angsty #little bit fluffy in places #who am I?#my writing #dreamy writes

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year ago

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Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

«timeline»

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: Luis Sera - Ice Skating

Day 2: Carlos Oliveira - “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”

Day3: Raiden - “I made you some hot cocoa.”

Day 4: Peter Parker - we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party || Insomniac Peter ||

Day5:Goro Takemura- Dancing In The Snow

Day 6:Johhny Cage-Sucking on a Candy Cane

Day 7: Peter Quill- “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely november”

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:Gale Dekarios-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house

Day 9:Sam Drake-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”

Day 10:Peter Parker -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex? || Insomniac Peter ||

Day 11:Nathan Drake- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?

Day 12:Peter Parker-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?” || MCU verse ||

Day 13: Peter Parker-“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”|| MCU verse ||

Day 14:Tadashi Hamada-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:Jacob Seed-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’

Day 16:Spencer Reid-Baking holiday cookies.

Day 17:Alejandro Vargas-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat

Day 18:Loki-A naughty sleigh ride || Exhibitionism sex ||

Day 19:Alex Casey-Build A snowman.

Day 20:Chris Redfield-“Let’s do something that puts us on the naughty list.”

Day 21:Mike Schmidt-Santa Baby: reader has decided to dress as Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy!

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:Matt Murdock-I picked you for secret Santa but I wrapped the wrong box so now I’ve given you a very festive sex toy, and oh my god this is so embarrassing

Day 23:Halsin-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.”

Day 24:Miguel O’Hara-“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”

Day 25:Ethan Winters-Christmas Morning.

Day 26: Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish-Hanging Stockings.

Day 27:Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.”

Day 28:Modern!Mizu-“Save some of that whipped cream for later.”*soon*

◇ day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:Bigby Wolf-“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”

Day 30:Harry Osborn-Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean

Day 31:Ethan Winters-“I’ll be content if you are the one stuffing my stocking.”

Day 32:Mike Schmidt-“Go on, open it.”

Day 33:Wyll Ravengard-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”

Day 34: Bruno Madrigal-Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe.

Day 35:Jordan Li-“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:Mike Schmidt-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"

Day 37:Gojo“I’d like to be one of the unhealthy things you put inside your body this weekend.”*Soon*

Day 38:Luis Sera-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere."

Day 39:Chris Redfield-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!”

Day 40:Aaron Hotchner-The scent of real Christmas trees

Day 41: Derek Morgan -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.”

Day 42:Victor "Sully" Sullivan-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.”

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:Leon S. Kennedy-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }

Day 44: Billy Butcher-“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!”

Day 45: Bucky Barnes-“Did you spike the eggnog again?”

Day 46: Spencer Ried-“Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

Day 47: Clint Barton- “It’s Snowing”

Day 48: Joel-Peppermint-flavoured everything

Day 49:Mizu-Snow/temperature play

Day 50:Johnny Cage-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”

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aughby · 2 months ago

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The Balcony Chronicles

It was nice being in a high-rise condominium with stunning views, a peaceful environment, and, as you realized later on, an interesting neighbor, Yuki Ishikawa. Yes, the Yuki Ishikawa we were talking about is the 28-year-old Japanese player who displayed a fierce look throughout his volleyball matches. On court, he is quite a serious player, but at home, he is a young kid trapped in a man’s body.

One night, you went to the balcony to watch the sunset, and you saw such an oddity. Having heard sounds of music coming from the adjacent unit, curiosity got the better of you, and you hanged half over the railing. And there was Yuki, dancing joyfully and very actively without paying attention to anyone around him. The guy was goofy and playful, which was quite a contrast from the smooth-moving athlete everyone had seen.

You stifled a laugh, and, unable to turn your head away, found yourself observing. Yuki was absolutely lost in his own world—he twirled and, at one point, made what I sincerely hoped was an attempt at break dancing. Just as you were about to take out your phone to record this great opportunity, he suddenly turned around and noticed you.

Within the blink of an eye, Yuki stood still. He was shocked and embarrassed. He quickly stood up as if nothing had happened to his body or to his breathing. He just gave a very rigid bow before going back into his place; you are left outside watching him with a breath torn between laughing and catching it.

As days passed, you began to see more of Yuki peculiarities, which you really never saw before. Sometimes it was possible to hear him singing, very loud and mostly tuneless, in his apartment. One time, it was a love ballad, thereby making him sing with the intensity of a pop star, all the way to the roof.

But the moment he laid his eyes on you up there on the balcony, he would immediately stop and then try to choke on his spit.

One evening you joked to make an attempt and open the conversation. “Great dancing skills, Yuki,” you said jokingly from my balcony, looking at him.

Yuki, who was about to water some plants, nearly let go of the watering can. “What on earth are you talking about? ”You replied quickly, attempting to do the ‘cool’ face.

“Oh really? ”You said with a laugh, “Are you sure you don't? "“Well, I might just have to share with your fans about some secret dance moves you do.”

Yuki’s face turned red. “You wouldn’t dare,” he growled, scowling at you while clearly recognizing embarrassment and amusement.

“Oh, but I would,” I said, “Unless... ”You paused and crossed your arms on the railing and rested your chin on your hands with an expression of wickedness on your face.

“Unless…? ”He scowled, rising from the chair.

“Unless you invite me to your next dance lesson, you know, a private show for the number one spectator. ”Yuki looked at you, and after a few seconds of silence, started to chuckle. It was somewhat unusual to find him in that state of mind: relaxed, happy, and free. “You’re impossible,” he said, laughing and then shaking his head. ”But sure. Whatever you want. Just don’t tell anyone, all right? ”

“No one will know it from me,” you reassured the other person.

From that day on, your evenings were spent sharing giggles, chatting, and competing in the quite stupid and juvenile dance battles. Although Yuki would initially look stern when he first saw you, he would soon scrunch up his face and make funny gestures, then ask you to play his crazy game.

You began to look forward to some moments where the normally stern Yuki would just sit back and enjoy himself. And in return, you never mentioned his outrageous behavior to anyone; you liked having this little secret that only you knew about.

There was once a night when you both decided to stay on the balconies, and while gazing at the night sky, Yuki turned to look at you with deep concentration. ‘Well, you know, despite all that, I’ve never let anybody get a glimpse of this part of me.’

“Why not? ”You asked me with that uncanny perplexed look on your face, which I found curious and amusing at the same time.

“I have always felt I needed to be in serous mode, but with you, I don’t know how it is, but it feels so relaxed.”

You smiled; you felt something warm in the middle of your chest. "Yeah, I enjoyed him too. Yes, he was so fun.”

Yuki grinned. “I am happy. But I'm telling you, if you disclose the information to anybody... ”

“No worry, Yuki, I won’t tell anyone about this, “you said, joking as you patted her on the back.

Your special kind of friendship ensued, and Yuki’s unusual personality was the sole way your friendship grew stronger day by day. In the world's view, he continued to be the indifferent, hardworking volleyball player. However, to you, he was much more than that; he was the man-child that loved novelty, the fun-loving man next door that one could wish for.

Yuki's POV

The latter days, or at least the period when you two met, something of you had slightly changed in Yuki’s eyes. During the day, you were quite cheerful and lively, always ready to laugh, even if it’s just to crack a joke. However, as evening came and you went to your balcony along with Yuki, you could feel some sadness in your tone, a certain weight in your eyes, which you tried to mask with a positive disposition.

It took one relatively calm night when Yuki started to realize what was actually happening. He always found himself coming out on the balcony to have a glimpse of you or how you are doing today, but that night, he saw you sitting on the corner of the balcony, bending your knees and pulling them to your chest, and gazing aimlessly at the horizon.

Yuki hesitated, unsure whether to say something. He didn’t want to intrude, but something about the way you were sitting—so still, unlike your usual self—made his chest tighten with concern.

“Hey,” he finally called out softly, not wanting to startle you. “Everything okay? ”

You didn’t respond right away. For a moment, Yuki thought you hadn’t heard him. But then you turned your head slowly, giving him a small, tired smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Yuki wasn’t convinced. He had seen that look before, in himself during his toughest times on the court, in teammates who were struggling but didn’t want to show it. It was the look of someone trying to keep it together when everything inside was falling apart.

“Are you sure? ”He pressed gently, leaning against the railing, trying to catch your gaze. “You don’t look fine.”

You let out a shaky breath and shrugged, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “I guess I’m not very good at hiding it anymore, huh? ”

Yuki’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice. This wasn’t the cheerful, teasing person he had come to know. This was someone who was hurting, and he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?”He asked, his tone softer than usual, filled with a concern he didn’t often show.

For a moment, you were silent, as if weighing your options. Then you began to speak, haltingly at first, but then the words started to flow. You told him about how you had always been the “happy one,” the person everyone relied on to bring a smile to their face. But as night fell, when the world was quiet, you were left alone with your thoughts, and the weight of your own struggles would bear down on you. You spoke of the loneliness, the self-doubt, the fear that you weren’t good enough—that no one really saw the real you, the one hiding behind the cheerful facade.

Yuki listened quietly, his chest aching with every word you said. He had never seen this side of you before, and it broke his heart to know that you had been carrying this burden alone.

“I had no idea,” Yuki said softly when you finished, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this.”

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Yuki shook his head, his expression earnest. “You’re not a burden; you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you, okay? Anytime you need someone to talk to, or even if you just need someone to sit with you, I’m here.”

For the first time that evening, a genuine smile touched your lips, though it was small and fragile. “Thank you, Yuki. That means a lot.”

From that night on, things changed between you and Yuki. He became more attuned to your moods and more present during your evening chats. He always made an effort to check on you, asking how you were doing. And in return, you began to open up more, sharing the parts of yourself that you had kept hidden for so long.

Yuki found himself becoming more protective of you, more determined to be there for you in the way you had been for him. He admired your strength and your resilience, but he also wanted you to know that it was okay to lean on someone else—to lean on him.

And as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the two of you grew closer. Yuki discovered that supporting you through your struggles made him feel more connected to you than ever. It wasn’t just about the fun, lighthearted moments anymore; it was about being there for each other through the highs and the lows.

One evening, as you both sat on your balconies, Yuki looked over at you and said, “You know, you’re not the only one with secrets.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What else are you hiding, Mr. Serious Athletic? ”

Yuki chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, for one, I never told anyone how much I enjoy these silly dance sessions. Or how much I’ve come to appreciate our little balcony chats.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you teased, though your smile was softer this time, more sincere.

“Deal,” Yuki agreed, holding out his pinky finger towards you.

You laughed, leaning over to hook your pinky with his, sealing the promise.

In that moment, Yuki realized just how much you had come to mean to him. You were more than just a neighbor, more than just a friend. You were someone he cared about deeply, someone he wanted to protect and support, no matter what.

And though he didn’t say it out loud, Yuki made a silent vow to himself that night: he would be there for you, always. No matter how tough things got, no matter how dark the nights became, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Because sometimes even the strongest people needed someone to lean on. And Yuki was determined to be that person for you.

Weeks had passed since that night when you opened up to Yuki about your struggles. Since then, your bond has grown stronger, deepening beyond the playful exchanges and shared secrets. The balcony had become your shared sanctuary—a place where walls came down and genuine connection flourished.

Yuki found himself looking forward to your evening chats more than ever. His days were often packed with rigorous training and high-stakes matches, but the thought of unwinding on the balcony with you kept him going. There was a warmth and comfort in your presence that he hadn't realized he craved.

One Friday evening, after a particularly grueling week, Yuki stepped out onto his balcony carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He glanced over at your side, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw you already there, bundled up in a cozy sweater, gazing up at the stars.

"Rough day?" you asked, noticing the tired lines etched on his face.

"You could say that," Yuki replied, offering one of the mugs over the railing. "Thought you could use this."

Your eyes lit up as you accepted the warm drink, your fingers brushing against his momentarily, sending a subtle spark through both of you.

"Look at you, being all thoughtful," you teased, taking a sip. The rich, sweet flavor warmed you from the inside out. "Mmm, this is perfect. Thanks, Yuki."

He smiled softly, leaning against the railing as he took a sip from his own mug. The night was crisp, and the city lights below twinkled like fallen stars.

A comfortable silence settled between you, both of you simply enjoying the peaceful moment. After a while, Yuki spoke up, his voice quiet.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been this comfortable with anyone before."

You glanced over at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. "Really? Not even with your teammates?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "They're great, but it's different. With you, I feel like I can be myself—all parts of myself. The serious athlete, the goofy dancer, everything."

Your cheeks warmed, and it wasn't just from the hot chocolate. "Well, I like all versions of you. Makes life more interesting."

Yuki's gaze lingered on you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the city lights. There was something different in the way he was looking at you tonight—something deeper.

"I feel the same about you," he said softly. "You're always so full of life and positivity. Even when things are tough, you find a way to smile through it."

You looked down at your mug, swirling the liquid inside to avoid his piercing gaze. "It's easier when you have someone to share it with."

Another silence fell, this one charged with unspoken emotions. Yuki felt his heart beat a little faster, a realization slowly dawning on him. These feelings—this warmth, this yearning—it was more than just friendship.

He cleared his throat, attempting to steady his nerves. "Hey, I was thinking... there's this new exhibit at the art museum downtown. Would you maybe want to check it out with me tomorrow? I mean, if you're free."

You looked up, surprised but pleased by the invitation. "Are you asking me out on a date, Yuki Ishikawa?"

He hesitated for a split second before responding, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, that depends. Would you say yes if I was?"

A smile spread across your face, your eyes dancing with mirth. "I suppose I might be persuaded."

Yuki grinned, feeling a surge of excitement and relief. "Then yes, I'm asking you out on a date."

"Then yes, I'd love to go," you replied, your smile matching his.

The next day, Yuki found himself more nervous than he had been before any championship game. He dressed carefully, opting for a casual yet stylish look, and even took extra time to make sure his hair was just right. When he met you in the lobby, his breath caught in his throat. You looked stunning, your eyes bright, and a hint of nervousness mirroring his own.

The museum was bustling with people, but to Yuki, it felt like it was just the two of you. You wandered through the exhibits, discussing the art pieces, sharing jokes, and learning more about each other with every step.

At one point, you both stopped in front of a large painting depicting a serene landscape. The soft hues and tranquil scene seemed to envelop you in a bubble of calm.

"This one's beautiful," you murmured, your eyes fixed on the canvas.

"Yeah," Yuki agreed, though his gaze had shifted to you. "It really is."

You turned to find him looking at you, his expression tender and open. The air between you grew thick with anticipation, and for a moment, the world around you faded away.

Before either of you could second-guess it, Yuki leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn't. You tilted your head up, meeting him halfway as your lips brushed softly against each other.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, and filled with unspoken promises. When you pulled apart, both of you were smiling, cheeks flushed, and hearts pounding.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," Yuki confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," you admitted, your eyes shining with happiness.

The rest of the day was a blur of laughter, stolen glances, and subtle touches. By the time you returned to your building, it was clear that something had shifted between you two. The friendship and camaraderie were still there, but now they were intertwined with a blossoming romance that felt as natural as breathing.

As you stood outside your respective doors, Yuki hesitated before speaking. "So, does this mean you'll stop threatening to expose my secret dance moves?"

You laughed, the sound making his heart soar. "Hmm, I think I might still hold that over your head. Keeps things interesting."

He chuckled, stepping closer and taking your hand in his. "I can live with that, as long as I get to take you out again."

"I'd like that," you replied, squeezing his hand gently.

From that day on, your evenings on the balcony took on a new dimension. There were still the playful dance-offs and shared stories, but now there were also soft kisses under the stars, whispered confessions, and the comforting presence of knowing you had someone to share both your joys and your struggles with.

Yuki found that being with you brought a balance to his life that he hadn't known he needed. You grounded him, made him laugh, and reminded him to enjoy the little moments amidst the chaos of his career. And in turn, he was there for you, offering support and love through both the light and dark times.

One night, as you cuddled together on his balcony, wrapped in a warm blanket and watching the city lights twinkle below, Yuki pressed a kiss to your forehead and murmured, "You make me incredibly happy, you know that?"

You looked up at him with your eyes filled with affection. "And you make me feel like I'm not alone anymore."

He smiled, pulling you closer. "You're not. We're in this together."

As the night enveloped you both, the sounds of the city fading into the background, you realized that sometimes the most unexpected connections could lead to the most beautiful love stories. And all it took was a shared balcony, a few secret dance moves, and the courage to let each other in.

#yuki ishikawa #ryujin nippon #volleyball #japan volleyball team #ishikawa #fanfic #au

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year ago

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Letters to My Love // Part IX

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: Bobby and Peach’s story continues! Hope you all enjoy this latest installment!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter comes from the popular song of the same name. Click here to listen to the first ever recording of the song from 1931!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, @luminousnotmatter. Clara, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story!

Warnings: Alternating POV, allusions to the physical and emotional cost of war, lots of sweet fluff.

April 28, 1943

Dearest Peach (or is it Cookie now?),

I have to tell you, this game of tag might just be the best version of the game I’ve ever played. I sure was surprised—and pleased, believe me—when I opened your last letter to find another photograph inside. The other fellas on the carrier are starting to grumble about how they hardly ever get photos from their girls back home, so you’ve managed to make me quite a big shot around here. Tommy Boy told me just the other day that word’s spreading about how “Floyd’s always getting these pictures from a pretty girl back stateside.” In all honesty, I think they’re just shocked that a gal as pretty as you would be writing to a boring guy from the sticks like me.

Now I don’t want you to think I’m gloating or anything when you send me photos, Peach—although your pretty face DOES deserve to be on billboards, in my humble opinion. It’s just that carriers are smaller than you’d think, in terms of news spreading around, It doesn’t help matters that Benny is always looking over my shoulder during Mail Call, and that when I opened your most recent letter, he stood up on our bench and shouted “Bobby Boy’s got another picture, fellas!” Don’t you worry, though. I tucked your photo into my pocket, right over my heart, and wouldn’t let any of the others see it, no matter how much they begged. Serves them right for being so nosy.

All that to say, it’s a wonderful picture and it brought a big old smile to my face to see how happy you all looked at Christmastime. Please send my highest compliments to Dottie. You and your sister look so much alike, you could both be Hollywood starlets. I especially love your matching smiles—prettier than the angel on top of the Christmas tree. And Frankie is the spitting image of Paddy, my goodness! It’s funny, Paul, Jr. looks just like Paul, too. Maybe the boys will both grow up and go to Annapolis together. You know, following in their fathers’ footsteps and all that. Wouldn’t that be something if they both joined the Navy one day?

Speaking of us “squids,” as our Marine brothers are so wont to call us, I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed the photos that I sent with my last letter. Tommy Boy and Benny have been bragging to anyone who will listen that you have our pictures displayed on your desk. I made the mistake of letting them know that you think they’re very handsome, but don’t worry, I kept it just between us that you think I’m the most handsome. They’re good guys and I wouldn’t want to go bruising their egos or anything like that.

Mike is the name of the fella on board who has the camera and took the pictures for us. He’s hoping he can get his hands on some more film soon so that he can take some more photographs while we’re over here. He likes to send them back home to his fiancee in Arkansas. He’s a solid guy, Mike is. He even told me he’d be happy to take some more pictures for me to send to you when he’s able to—if you’d like that, that is.

I’m glad to know that you don’t mind me writing a little bit about you to my family. I received a letter from my mother the same day I received your letter, and she said you sound like the loveliest girl and that you’re more than welcome on the Floyd farm anytime you happen to find yourself in Linn County, Iowa. When I was writing back to her, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that nobody just so happens to find themselves in Linn County, Iowa. But the offer still stands! My mama would be more than happy to bake you all the pumpkin pies your heart desires. And she’d be more than happy to hear about that peach cobbler recipe, too!

Paul wanted me to tell you that you have no reason to be embarrassed about the punch spill, and that, in fact, you should put it out of your mind completely. He’s sitting across me from right now as I write this, writing his own letter back home to Natasha and the kids. Clara’s just learning to recognize her letters and read some basic words, and Paul, Jr. can’t read at all yet of course, so Paul includes little drawings for them when he writes. Natasha says they love them, and that Clara always carries his letters around when they’re running errands to show off to all the neighbors. “Look at Daddy’s pictures!” she tells them. He really is a good artist, you know. One of these days, I’m going to have him draw something for you. Anything in particular you’d like to see?

Oh, please don’t be embarrassed about my overhearing that conversation! That’s the last thing I want you to feel. You have no reason to be embarrassed, Peach. If anything, it’s that Eddie guy who should feel embarrassed for doing that to a lady. But like you—and Dottie—said, everything happens for a reason. I believe that, too. And I believe that good things can come out of even the worst circumstances. Take this war, for example. It’s awful. There’s no sugarcoating it or making it sound better than it is. It’s just plain awful. In the time I’ve been over here, I’ve seen and heard things that I’ll never be able to forget, things that make you question how human beings can do such things to one another. But I’ve also seen instances of such heroism and bravery, of people doing all they can to stick their necks out for each other and see each other home safely, and I think that that’s got to count for something, too. Don’t you think so, Peach? I know you’re all doing your part back home, too, and that means the world to us over here. We can feel it, and we appreciate it more than you can know. So you see? Good things can still come out of the hard times.

Like you and me meeting, for another thing. I can’t say that I’m grateful for this war, but I am thankful that it brought us together and allowed our paths to cross that night in Charleston. I’ll always be thankful for that, Peach. Not a day goes by that I don’t count my lucky stars that Paul finally convinced me to go to that dance that night. It was the last place in the world I wanted to be, but it turned out to be just the place I needed to be. Everything happens for a reason, right?

Speaking of that night at the dance, I had a dream the other night about dancing with you, Peach. We were at the USO dance at first, but then we were suddenly on the beach. As a farm boy from Iowa, you can imagine that I haven’t spent much time on the beach in my lifetime. But I suppose my subconscious remembers all the beaches I saw in Charleston, because there we were, dancing in the sand while the waves were crashing in. Do you like going to the beach? Like I said, there’s none in landlocked Iowa, but I’d be more than happy to let you be my tour guide when it comes to the best beaches South Carolina and Georgia have to offer.

It’s funny, I don’t usually remember my dreams, but I remember that one quite vividly. I woke up thinking I could still taste saltwater on my tongue and feel you in my arms. Maybe that sounds a little silly, but it’s true. It was the best dream I’ve ever had, I’m sure of it.

It does sound like little Frankie is quite the mischief-maker! Hiding keys already? Something tells me he’s going to give Dottie and Paddy a run for their money when he gets older! From everything you’ve told me, I really do think he and Paul, Jr. would make the best of friends. I imagine the two of them would get into even more mischief than Paul and I did when we were growing up!

Gosh, I wish more than anything that I could be there dancing with you, Peach. But I’m holding the thought of you dancing to “We’ll Meet Again” real close to my heart until we really can meet again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear that song without thinking of you now.

Please do keep me updated on your Victory Garden efforts! I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. Believe me, no one could have a browner thumb than me—just ask Paul, Natasha, and pretty much my entire family—so I’m sure you and Dottie will do a wonderful job!

And Happy Belated Easter, Peach! I hope you had a lovely day with your family. We actually had a bit of exciting news that reached us on Easter Sunday. The Royal Navy sent word that they managed to sink a German U-boat off the coast of [REDACTED], which is hopefully a good sign for all the rest of us. I hope this war comes to an end soon. It feels like we’ve been fighting forever.

I hope that the South Carolina sunshine is treating you right, and that you’re safe and well. I can’t wait until your next letter arrives (I’ll try to keep Benny from looking over my shoulder next time).

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

May 24, 1943

My Dear Bobby,

Don’t worry, it’s still Peach to you, and it always will be. Frankie is learning so many new words every day that I’m sure I’ll only be Aunt Cookie for a little while longer. But I’d like to stay Peach for a good long while, if that’s alright with you.

I’m sorry to disappoint all the fellas on the carrier—particularly Benny—by not including any new photographs with this letter. I’ll try to amend that next time. But I absolutely do not believe that it should come as any kind of shock to anyone that you and I write to one another, Bobby. Boring? Who would dare call you boring? I’ll not have you talking about yourself like that, Robert Floyd, do you hear me? I could just as easily say that the people back in Charleston would be shocked to learn that a handsome naval aviator is writing to a girl as shy and mousey as me, but I know you wouldn’t like that. Just like I don’t like hearing you talk badly about yourself. So let’s promise one another we won’t do that anymore, hm?

Dottie sends profuse thanks for your sweet words about the Christmas photo—she actually blushed when I told her what you’d written! And I could tell that Paddy was all puffed up with pride when I told him that you thought Frankie looked just like him. Dottie agrees with you wholeheartedly, by the way. “Both my boys are so handsome!” she declared. I think Paddy blushed a little bit at that, though he’d never admit it.

My goodness, imagine Frankie and Paul, Jr. both joining the Navy when they’re older? I think you’re quite right that they’d make excellent friends—but heaven help the Navy with the double trouble those two would bring with all their mischief-making!

By the way, I asked Paddy about that nickname you said the Marines like to use—squids? I’ve never seen my brother-in-law turn so red so fast! “Oh, what do they know?” he demanded, waving his hands in the air. “They’re just a bunch of jarheads!” Squids? Jarheads? I never realized there was such a rivalry between you! No wonder the sailors and the Marines seem to stay on opposite sides of the room whenever the USO hosts an event! I hope you know that I don’t think you’re a squid, Bobby. But if you were, you’d be the cutest squid in the seven seas.

You’re very considerate not to bruise Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s egos, so thank you very much for keeping our little secret. Emily came over the other day—she’s still so excited about the wedding and she wanted me to help her go over some details—and she saw the pictures of you and the boys on my desk. She remembered Paul from the night of the dance, and she thought the rest of you looked familiar, too. She said to pass along her best wishes, and I passed along your congratulations on her and Eddie’s engagement. I hope you don’t mind.

That’s very sweet of your friend, Mike to offer to take more photos for you! Of course I’d love for you to send more, if you’re able to! Being able to see that you’re okay, even with all the miles and a war between us, makes me so happy.

Your mama is most generous and kind to extend that invitation! While I can’t say that I have any reason to be in Linn County, Iowa at the moment, I will be certain to look up the Floyd family farm if ever I should happen to be in town. And please let your mama—and all of your family—know that, should they ever find themselves in Charleston, South Carolina, the Sheridan residence is always open to them. Your mama and I can swap recipes. I know Dottie would love that.

I couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear when I read the part of your letter where you talked about Paul’s drawings for Clara and Paul, Jr.! What a wonderful father he is! And an artist, too? I’m very impressed! Not to mention thankful to him for his unending kindness. I can see why the two of you are the best of friends—you both have the same good hearts. Hmm, now as for what kind of drawing I would like, I suppose that would depend on what Paul specializes in. Does he do portraits? In that case, I’d like to see him draw one of you. Does he draw cartoons? I can only imagine how he’d portray a conversation between Tommy Boy and Benny. If neither of those, then perhaps Paul can draw me some peaches—I always think of you now, Bobby, whenever I eat them.

Oh, Bobby. Yes, I do believe it counts for something when people try to hold onto their goodness in the midst of so much evil and bad. We know so little of what you’re facing over there beyond the small bits that we read in the newspaper or hear on the radio. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to be living in it every day. I wish that I could hold you tight and make all the bad memories go away. But since I can’t, I’m glad to know that you’re able to find the glimpses of good where you can.

Without a doubt, everything happens for a reason, and I believe there’s a reason that you and I met that night, Bobby. Maybe a reason that’s bigger than you and I can ever understand. I’m grateful that our paths crossed, too. So, so grateful. I know this might sound silly considering we’ve only actually been together in person for a few hours, but you’ve helped me come out of my shell more than you can know. I’ve always been so shy, Bobby. Painfully so. It’s not easy for me to talk to new people, or people that I don’t know very well. It’s especially not easy for me to talk to handsome boys like you. But that night at the dance and during our walk on King Street—you made me feel seen, Bobby. And heard. Hardly anyone outside my family has ever made me feel that way. And then we started writing letters to each other and you’ve just been so easy to talk to, so easy to share my heart with. Thank you for that, Bobby. It means more to me than you can possibly imagine. So yes, I thank my lucky stars for that night, too.

Did you really have a dream about me? I’m blushing to think so, but now I don’t feel so shy to tell you that I’ve dreamed about you, too. In my dream, we were back at the ice cream parlor on King Street, sharing an ice cream sundae with lots of whipped cream and cherries on top. When you come home, we’ll have to take a drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier. I’ll be counting down the days until it happens!

Now speaking of our Victory Garden, Dottie and I are quite proud of the effort we put in this year! You’d think the two of us were a couple of regular old farm girls. We spent about a week or so clearing out the beds from last year and resoiling them. One of our neighbors, Mrs. Patterson had a beautiful garden last year, so she gave us a lot of helpful advice. We ended up planting beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. It’s still a little too early to tell how they’ll end up, but they look promising so far! I think you’d be proud of us!

Things here on the homefront have been a little tricky as of late. I’m not sure if word has gotten over to you boys across the Atlantic, but some of the coal miners went on strike last month. It caused a bit of a crisis with regard to production and manufacturing. President Roosevelt delivered a fireside chat discussing the crisis earlier this month. He tried to remind all of us that it’s our patriotic duty to continue working and to do what we can for the war effort. I think Paddy was a bit worried about it, but the government has since taken control of the coal mines, and so we haven’t heard much more about it.

I want so badly to do my part for the war effort, Bobby. I think of you and Paul and Tommy Boy and Benny and all the others, risking your lives across the ocean to defend all of us back home. I want to do something, no matter how small, that can contribute and make a difference. There have been lots of women going to work in the factories ever since we entered the war. Some of them are filling their husbands’ and brothers’ positions while they’re off fighting. Paddy mentioned that they’re actually looking to fill civilian positions at Naval Air Station Charleston. It’s harder because of the background checks required, but I’d have a leg up, being Paddy’s sister-in-law. I’ve been thinking about asking Paddy to help me apply for a position. Do you think I should, Bobby? If it could be of any help to you and all the other men, I’d really like to give it a try. What do you think?

That’s wonderful news about the Royal Navy! Every time I hear about the Allies pushing further into Europe, or defeating our enemies in some way, it gives me a thrill of hope that maybe this all really will be over soon. I hope so, Bobby. I really hope so.

Even though there’s a few thousand miles between us, I hope you can feel all the good thoughts I’m sending your way. I can’t wait until I get your next letter. I always look forward to them.

Until next time, Bobby!

Most Affectionately Yours,

Peach

TAGLIST: @teacupsandtopgun @saturnsbabe69 @gigisimsonmars @marchingicenotes7 @high-speed-r @toobouquet @up-thereinthesky @lostinthefandoms11 @strangerparks @sweetwhispersofchaos

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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maladaptivedaydr3amer · 17 days ago

Note

Any specific Barty headcanons (my disposable bug-eyed son)??

YOU DO KNOW HOW LONG IVE BEEN WAITING SOMEONE TO ASK ME THIS!!

(I’ve recently just written all of my Barty Crouch Jr headcanons in my notes app; I will warn you there is a lot)

Barty Crouch Jr headcanons.

- (1)Insanely smart

- (2)Really messy blonde hair(you just can’t tame it, and it pisses off Barty Sr. So much)

- (3)He has a mouth like a sailor(meaning he’s always swearing; gets it from his mom)

- (4)Very skinny because one of his dads many punishments is not giving him food

- (5)A mommy’s boy because his mom was always there(but he kind of also has mommy issues, idk it’s just really complicated)

- (6)type of kid that was never able to leave the house(for real the reason why he is so pale)

- (7)hates alcohol, weed and cigarettes with a burning passion

- (8)insomniac(he stays up way to late studying half the time)

- (9)A Ravenclaw

- (10)his bestfriend is Pandora; they both complete opposites because barty is very uptight and pandora is very care-free

- (11)His biggest free is too be like his father

- (12)had a stutter when he was younger(like 11-13)

- (13)He didn’t have any friends in first year and up until the middle of second year when Pandora was like your my friend now

- (14)favorite class is history of magic and charms

- (15)very fascinated with Evan when he first met him

- (16)he’s very opinionated, and does not like to be wrong

- (17)Photographic memory, if he sees something it is glued to his memory

- (18)So very many freckles, like too many

- (19)He comes off very confident and sure of himself, but not gonna lie he’s actually really insecure.

- (20)He actually did pull out a good chunk of his hair when he was studying for his owls

- (21)A prefect in his fifth and sixth years and was head-boy in his seventh year

- (22)loves quidditch but he would never play

- (23)Him and Regulus are academic rivals(their for real frenemies)

- (24)everyone knows about how shitty his relationship is with his father

- (25)When he got all 12 of his O.W.L, that was one of the only times in his life that his dad was proud of him

- (26)He has helicopter parents(his mom more than his dad but still)

- (27)Has dimples

- (28)He has abandonment issues, and social anxiety(oh how he hates ministry party’s but he still has to go to keep up appearances)

- (29)Very dark brown eyes

- (30)He’s actually really fucking weird like(Pandora and him are for real are you gonna match my freak)

- (31)He’s a pretty crier not gonna lie

- (32)Dark circles underneath his eyes

- (33)has some sort of personality disorder

- (34)He’s is the little spoon in the relationship.

- (35)him and Evan were for real made for each other(even though they are a bit toxic)

- (36)he was born like a 3 weeks early(his birthday is October 21rst)

- (37)He was most definitely in the slug club(even though he kinda of sucked at potions, he was only chosen because of who his father was)

- (38)He can be extremely manipulative at times and he is also a great actor(the reason why so many people thought he was innocent after his trial, and that skill has also gotten him out of so much trouble)

- (39)he can easily mask his emotions; anger, sadness, happiness etc.

- (40)He’s extremely clingy to people once they get close

- (41)He got way to close to the Lestranges for his own good after Evan died

- (42)When he gets a really bad letter from his dad he just completely shuts down

- (43)Barty actually had a pretty close relationship with his house-elf, Winky

- (44)He’s can speak so many different languages such as, gobbledegook(the goblin’s language), French, German, English etc.

- (45)Very complicated home-life

- (46)Barty fell first and fell very hard in the Rosekiller relationship

- (47)He will give you the most dirty look if he doesn’t agree with you

- (48)Severely touched starved, he always has to be touching Evan for his own sanity

- (49)His favorite color is a very specific color of blue.

- (50)Top of almost all of his classes(the only classes he’s not top in is divination and potions, which Pandora is the top in both; he kind of hates her for it)

- (51)5’7-5’8

- (52)He for real puts school and grades before his mental health.

- (53)he is very blunt and doesn’t really have filter, and has zero social skills(if you say something wrong or if you pronounce something wrong he will correct you ect.)

- (54)He purposely pisses off Evan half the time

- (55) he wants to be perfect but he’s so far from it

#I know it’s a lot #but he’s for real my favorite character and my son #soooo he gets special privileges #marauders era #elle yaps #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr headcanons #rosekiller #barty and pandora

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arsenal-womens-1 · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 23 page 28

Page 28. I’m stuck on page 28 because I know when I turn to page 29, she won’t be there. We have to pretend we never dated or knew each other. How can I forget our story? It had just started; it wasn’t time for it to end. In the ideal world, it wouldn’t. But here I am, sitting next to her as if we didn’t just spend the last two and a half years loving each other. I still love her with all my heart; I think I will forever.

I met Georgia when we were young; we grew up together. It wasn’t until 2020 that anything happened between us. Through the whole of the lockdown, we were something, and for two years after, we were together. We were the only ones to know. Now she’s leaving to go live in Germany, and I’m going to Spain with one of her best friends, Lucy. I know I should be happy; I mean, I’m going to be playing for Barcelona, the team I’ve always wished to play for. But now I want to go with her, but I can’t.

I understand why she has never told the world about her sexuality, but her teammates, I don’t get. Getting dragged back to the present as one of the girls says something about crashing Serena’s interview. We all form a line and start singing, shouting, "It’s coming home," barging through the doors. We go around the table; Mary and Lucy get up on the table and do some sort of dance. For being the TikTok queen, Mary doesn’t know how to dance the best. I can’t really say anything; I can’t dance to save my life.

Rushing out of the conference room, we go back to the changing room. A few split off to go outside wailing; some of the German girls walk past. I walk into the locker room to see a bunch of girls dancing to "Every Time We Touch." Hanna is sitting in her cubby; I decide to sit next to her. We don’t say anything to each other. After about half an hour and a lot of alcohol later, someone walks in and tells us that the bus is outside.

We all pack up our stuff and make our way onto it, deciding to sit away from the girls. I know I will get questioned about it, but I need to think. My signing for Barcelona isn’t public yet as I’ve not actually signed it yet. I’m flying out after Trafalgar Square; I’ll be stopping there for the day, then going to Ibiza for a day or two, then back to Manchester to pack up the rest of my stuff. I know the fans are going to be devastated as they want me to stay.

Laying my head against the window, the cold cools down my face. I watch silently as the bus pulls away, leaving behind a whirlwind of emotions, knowing that the next chapters of my life were about to unfold in ways I couldn't yet predict.

We pass fans coming out of Wembley Way. I still can’t believe what we have just done; we are on top of Europe; we won. We actually won. This whole last three months have felt like a dream, from getting called up to playing in the first match to winning the whole thing.

Closing my eyes, I just listen to the girls, the staff, and the outside. After a bit, the bus stops; the sound of the doors opening tells me that we are at the hotel. I wait for everyone to get out before getting off. There are people with cameras all over the place. Getting in front of the hotel fast, all our friends and family are waiting for us. A few run to their friends and family, others walk. I just stand there; mum and dad aren’t here as they had work.

I stand, watching everyone reunite with their friends and family. I couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that this moment marked both an end and a beginning of an era. Jill and Ellen are retiring, but that means there will be new talent going up to the bar they have.

I get six shots of vodka; I take three and walk over to Ella and Alesia and hand them one. I promised them if we won I would buy them a shot; technically, I haven’t bought them one, but it’s the same thing. A bottle of gin is passed to us; I down a bit.

Feeling something cold against my back, I open my eyes; the sun shines straight into them. What? Looking around, by the look of it, I am outside. I can see the hotel. Getting off whatever I’m on, I look back at what I was on. Where did I get a pink flamingo pool float from?

The last thing I remember was at 3 am; one of Ella or Alesia’s friends was on the table. Why was she on the table? Why am I outside walking slowly up to the hotel? My head is banging, and I feel like I’m about to throw my guts up. I’m never drinking again. Finally, I make it back to the hotel to see about sixty people.

Eating, all them very quiet heads turn when they hear the door open. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I run to the nearest bathroom. After a minute or to I stop throwing up, clinging to the wall I push my self up walking back to the room. People turn to see who it was a few look concerned, and others are amused.

I need to find Ella and Alesia. One to see if there OK and two to find out where I got the flamingo from and why I was asleep outside. But first, a glass of water and some paracetamol and ibuprofen seeing a table of bottle water and boxes of paracetamol and ibuprofen I take some. I looked up as someone walked into the room. It was Ella and Alesia—I didn’t need to go looking for them.

“Hey, girls,” I greeted them. They mumbled a quiet “hi” in response. “I need to ask you something.” Ella nodded, prompting me to continue. “One, why was I asleep outside? And two, where did I get a pink flamingo pool float from?” Confusion was evident on both their faces. Alesia spoke up, “What pink flamingo? And what do you mean, you slept outside? You went to bed around 4.” She struggled to hold back laughter as she recounted this. Now, I was even more confused.

“What do you mean you don’t know where I got it from? And how did I end up outside if I went to bed?” They both tried hard not to laugh but looked genuinely perplexed. “Well, when Alesia and I left you in your room, you had just stopped crying about something. You weren’t making much sense by then.”

After hearing their explanation, I rubbed my temples, trying to piece together the fragmented memories of last night, wondering how everything had spiraled into such a blur.

"Okay, thanks for bringing me to my room." Walking to my room to try and piece some of this together and try to find my phone, getting to the hall of my room I see Jess, Carter, and someone else passed out in the hall. Opening my room door, everything looks normal; my phone is on the bed. Going over, I open it; I see a crap ton of Instagram notifications. Opening the app, I go on the notification thing and see I posted a story at 3:56 am, so just before I went to bed. You can’t really see much; all you can see is me, Ella, Alesia, Lotte, Georgia, and Ellie. Maybe one of them knows.

Walking into the bathroom, I look in the mirror. It’s then I realize I’ve got a hickey. I remember someone knocked on the door; I let them in. But who was it?

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xxnghtclls · 11 months ago

Text

Permission Playlist!

So I‘ve tried to put together the songs which inspired me the most or that I remember vividly listening to, while writing chapters!

A lot of them just served to put me into a certain mood, so the lyrics don‘t necessarily match up, but the lyrics of most of the songs played a huge role. You might recognise some of them even 😋

Here’s the link: Permission Playlist

And if you haven‘t read Permission yet, here‘s Chapter 1.

Other than that, I want to give a little direction here, that you know which songs belong to which parts of the story, since sometimes they guided me for a whole chapter, sometimes a whole song for just a short moment! Sometimes the songs describe y/n’s point of view, but sometimes Sukuna’s too!

I’ve been writing Permission for over a year, so I probably won’t remember everything, but these were the most important ones I remember! I also tried to put them into order of when they fit into their moments or chapters:

(in-depth description (-ish) under the cut)

Song 1-15 (Wicked Games - Jenny Of Oldstones)

I listened to those songs mainly when I was planning the whole story. To give me moods, themes, emotions that I want to convey. I listened to the Game Of Thrones Soundtrack a lot in general, but those songs I listed in there were the ones who inspired me the most!

Fun fact here: Mado Kara Mieru from Christopher Tin was the one which gave me the most inspiration for how Sukuna’s melody would’ve sound like.

Song 16 (Serj Tankian - Rains of Castamere)

Basically my Soundtrack for Chapter 13 and especially the throne room scene, when the new girl arrives and Sukuna invites her in.

Song 17 - 21 (Obsessed - Entitled)

Those songs guided me from the moment when Sukuna saves y/n from the curses until the end of the camping arc. I don’t recall listening to music a lot during that time of writing, cause I acquired that skill only later 🌝

Honorable mentions here:

Zandros - Obsessed was for me the moment y/n sees Sukuna standing over her after killing the curses, seeing the snow flakes crash against his body. Idk this song carried the mood for me.

Adin - Somebody Else was one of the few songs that I connected with Sukuna’s pov.

Song 22 - 23 (Crash and Burn - Breathe)

Those songs described for me the moment when they return to the shrine and long for each other, before y/n gains the courage to knock on his door in chapter 24.

Song 24 Max Richter - On The Nature Of Daylight

I don’t remember clearly, but I think I listened to this to get in a sad mood to describe y/n’s pain when Sukuna left for war and she misses him dearly.

A good song in general to get a fucking sad mood tbh.

Song 25 - 27 (The Way - Violently)

Oh those were the songs I listened to when y/n follows him into the war. Chapter 29 & 30 all the way.

Zack Hemsey - The Way was perfect to listen to when she realises, she’s close to Sukuna and the war is starting. This remix with the sirens was perfect for me to visualise how she’s running over that battlefield, dodging the bombs, fighting her way through. It’s still such an epic scenery in my head which I hope I could convey!

Jayme Deville - Right on Time kinda gave me slow motion pictures in my head, for when Sukuna approaches her during battle.

Mira - Violently is such an incredible song for me. It describes her whole journey and emotions so so good. I listened to it when I wrote the kissing scene, but it grew to be a super important song for their whole relationship, that’s why I would choose it for a rolling credit song hehe.

Song 28 - 31 (The Shadows - Take Me Back To Eden)

Those were all the songs which inspired me for the Sex Scene when Sukuna returns from war in Chapter 32.

Honorable mention here:

Sleep Token - Take Me Back To Eden just IS the moment for me when y/n notices, that Sukuna stayed in her room and he opens his eyes to her.

The lyrics

My, my, those eyes like fire

I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre

just describe the effect that Sukuna (and his gaze and eyes) have on y/n (and on me tbh) so perfectly, that I needed to add that to the rolling credit choice as well.

Song 32 - 33 (O Saki Saki - Lahu Munh Lag Gaya)

Heh! Chapter 33, the festival! I actually planned to have a dancing scene with y/n and other people from the festival, kinda Bollywood style, to impress our Lord and Saviour Sukuna! 😆

However, since that requires A WHOLE OTHER LEVEL of writing skill, I decided to leave it. The Songs still served me perfectly well to get in the mood for a cool ass festival atmosphere for a cool ass King!

Song 34 Clann - Her & the Sea

Chapter 35, when Sukuna and y/n talk on the bridge. Just that moment and atmosphere.

Song 35 - 36 (Timeout - You Thought)

Mood Songs for when y/n is gonna find out that Sukuna fucked around when he was in war. No particular moment here, but served me to get into her emotional state.

Song 37 - 41 (Ecstasy - Luscious)

Again mood songs for sex scenes after Sukuna’s confession in Chapter 36.

I think I listened to Ecstasy and All I Need by The MXXNLIGHT for the Throne Sex in Chapter 25 as well.

Song 42 Clann - She Loves The Rain

I think this one explains itself…Dancing in the rain with Sukuna in Chapter 44.

Song 43 - 44 (Fatal Attraction - Obsession)

Again mood songs for their overall relationship, that represent how knee deep y/n is in love with Sukuna.

Song 45 Mira - Thorns

Oh Mira, how I love her music. That song was published a few chapters before I was ready to write Akiko’s murder, but it described y/n’s reaction regarding Sukuna’s apathy so perfectly in Chapter 45. My heart ached so much when I listened to it the first time!

Fun fact here: The moment when Sukuna reveals that he was pushing the maids with motivation, was actually planned to be directly after Akiko’s death. I noticed in the early draft of that chapter, that it doesn’t work out and decided last minute to completely change that plan and to write that moment into the finale of the story.

Song 46 - 48 (Blood Code - Cold Blooded)

My soundtrack for y/n’s killing spree in Chapter 46 😆

Song 49 Zandros - Look What You’ve Done To Me

Mood Song for the aftermath of Sayako’s death and y/n’s feelings about coming a monster in Chapter 47

I think that‘s it. I hope you enjoy! <3

#permission #permission playlist #permission chapters #sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #fanfiction #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you

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