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greenorangevioletgrass · 1 year ago

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give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes.

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

***

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly.

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you.

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass. “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic.

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it.

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out.

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago.

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost.

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to.

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.”

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay.

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you.

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment.

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?”

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?”

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?”

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

#will poulter #chef luca #luca the bear #the bear fx #chef luca x reader #luca x reader #chef luca x ex-wife!reader #chef luca fic #chef luca smut #will poulter fic #will poulter smut #ava writes

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pierregazly · 8 months ago

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are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach.

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side.

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body.

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 blurb #oscar piastri blurb #blurb #writing #fluff #pierregazly's 1.5k celebration

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queerly-autistic · 10 months ago

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One of my favourite things about S2 was that we got to see so much in terms of Ed's relationships with women, and it just made me love him even more (if that's humanly possible). We didn't see him interact with many women at all in S1 (I think it was only the posh ladies at the fancy party which was...yeah, not a good experience), so S2 actually giving us a glimpse into his friendships with all these (very different) kickass women was so, so special.

I love that, as messy and fucked up as they all are, and even with the 'well we're pirates, we're not normal and we will fuck with each other' threat that hangs over everything, Ed's relationship with Mary and Anne is still so affectionate, and they both thrown their arms around him the moment they see him. Even though Ed is incredibly tactile, I don't think we've actually ever seen him be hugged like this, and it's just so lovely to watch him be embraced and clearly feel very safe being embraced by these women (and I can't with the way he clings to them, as well). I also love that this is a wlw/mlm friendship; yeah it falls apart later and turns into delicious gay-on-gay violence (and I wouldn't alter a note of it), but I love seeing this sort of affection between queer women and queer men, there's not nearly enough of it.

Don't even get me started on the BFF handshake he has with Anne - I want all the history there, give me six spin-off films about their adventures please.

And then we finally get a glimpse of his relationship with Jackie, which is similarly just lovely, but in a different way? You get the sense that they could sit there for hours, talking shit about the world, all whilst casually ripping the shit out of each other (but affectionately). You also know full well these two have talked extensively about men and know pretty much everything about each other's sex lives - we didn't see it, but I'm absolutely certain that Ed went into full gushing details about sleeping with Stede, just like Jackie did when she talked about The Swede fucking like a jackhammer (historical accuracy ftw).

And, again, whilst they're still pirates, and it's messy, the entire thing feels incredibly...safe, particularly from Ed's perspective? He feels more comfortable around Jackie than he is around most other characters (apart from Stede), just like he was with Anne and Mary.

And then, just to hammer the point home even further that Ed has, generally, fantastic relationships with women, and connects with them, and feels relaxed and safe with them, you have Ed and Zheng becoming instant BFFs literally minutes after meeting each other. Ed goes 'ooh, very cool woman kicking ass and killing people, she shall be my best friend, immediately', and Zheng is automatically incredibly relaxed and open with him, too (suggesting she feels as safe and comfortable with him as he does with her).

All I want in life is to see Ed and Zheng get silly-drunk with each other (and this is why we urgently need a S3).

And none of Ed's relationships with these women are a fetishistic 'I love women because they're fabulous' thing, or an overly patronising paternalistic 'I love the women and I must protect them' thing - all the relationships he has with women are very equal, very comfortable, fully believable, just fantastic friendships to watch play out. I feel like, given everything we see on screen, Ed generally feels a lot more comfortable and safe and open with the women he knows than the men he knows (Stede is the only other person he is this physically affectionate and comfortable with). Which is probably very understandable? Yes, the women he's friends with are all violent pirates too (that's part of the joy of it - none of them are lovely demure morally pure women, they're all violent pirates), but Ed has a lot of experience with specifically overtly abusive men - right back to watching his dad abuse his mum. And that's a distinction that matters: the show treats the violence of normal piracy and the violence of abuse very, very differently. Ed is not used to being treated softly or affectionately by men, as we saw in his shocked reaction to Stede holding his hand. I don't think it's any wonder that he gravitates more towards friendships with women (or that the men he feels the most open and safe with, such as Stede, Fang, even Frenchie, are very pointedly the opposite of the abusive men he has experience with). I just love love love that being friends with women is such a core part of Ed's character, and that we got to see all of these fantastic relationships in the show.

#ofmd #our flag means death #edward teach #anne bonny ofmd #mary read ofmd #spanish jackie #zheng yi sao ofmd #ofmd s2 ep4 #episode: fun and games #ofmd s2 ep7 #episode: man on fire #ofmd s2 ep8 #episode: mermen #ed x stede #blackbonnet #ofmd meta #erin waffles

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daisyblog · 8 months ago

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Home To Mother

Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry introduces YN and Jacob to Anne.

Warning: mention of smut

Harry had thought about introducing YN and Jacob to his Mum for a while. But with Anne living four hours away, it wasn’t always easy especially with Harry releasing his second album, and YN and Jacob having their own things on too.

A conversation about their Christmas plans had not risen yet, and whilst Harry wanted to spend it with YN and Jacob, he was aware that he always spent Christmas with his family in Cheshire.

He was surprised when he spoke to his Mum on the phone one afternoon on his way to YN’s from the studio. As he drove through the streets of London, his Mums name flashed up on the screen of the handsfree.

“Hi Mum!”. Harry’s cheerily voice answered as he kept his eyes on the busy road in front of him.

“Hi darling…how’s my boy?”. Anne’s tone was warm, full of love as she missed her son after not seeing him for a while.

“I’m good…just on my way home from the studio, we had some small things we needed to wrap up before the release”. Harry explained as it was only a matter of days before the release of his second album.

He could hear his Mum’s smile through her voice. “I’m so proud of you darling…I can’t wait to hear it…I know you’ve worked so hard”.

“Thanks Mum…this album is really special”. Harry admitted as he turned down a quieter road.

“Hmm…I wonder why that is.” Anne teased, a small hint towards Harry’s new lover. “Speaking of YN…how is she and Jacob?”.

Harry couldn’t help but smile at the mention of them both. “They’re fine…I’m actually on my way there now…Jacob wants to show me his new Lego piece he’s built”.

“Ooo sounds cool…looks like everything is going well with you all”. Anne began to prod, knowing where she was going with the conversation. “I’m not sure what your plans are around Christmas but if you’d like to…and of course YN wants to too…then I’d love for you to being YN and Jacob home with you”.

Harry loved the idea of taking YN and Jacob home to Cheshire with him, and introducing them to his family, whilst celebrating Christmas but with Jacob having other family too, it wasn’t a decision he could make solely. “I’d love to Mum…but I’ll have to ask because of Jacob with his Dad and stuff”.

“Of course darling…I will respect your decision either way”. Harry knew his Mum was way too good for the world.

It was a debate he was having in his own head, considering different options, until he decided to speak to one person who he knew would be able to give him the answer he was looking for.

---

Since Harry and YN had become serious in their relationship, he had become a regular visitor to Jack and Zara’s house when YN and Jacob went to visit.

YN and Zara had organised a Christmas shopping trip into town and Jack had asked Harry to join him and the two boys. Harry couldn’t turn down the offer and knew it was his only opportunity to talk to Jack.

Jacob was playing with his toys in the living room of Jack and Zara’s house and Theo had just gone down for his nap, leaving Jack and Harry to catch up.

“Whilst the girls are not here…I wanted to thank you for everything you do for Jacob…and YN too…I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time”. Jack began to the conversation as they sat on opposite sides of the sofa.

Harry couldn’t hide his smile because really he wanted to thank them all for allowing him to be a part of their family dynamic. “Between us…I’ve waited for someone like YN for a long time and Jacob is a real credit to you both…he’s a good lad”.

“He loves you…he talks about you a lot…I love it”. Jack explained, knowing that most of Jacob’s stories now involve Harry.

Harry thought about how he was going to approach the Christmas conversation with Jack, until he pulled the bandaid off in one. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about”. Jack nodded his head, his eyes paying full attention to Harry. “My Mum has invited YN and Jacob to Cheshire for Christmas…but I don’t want to overstep your plans and traditions”.

He was waiting for this to be the changing point for Jack to tell him he was crossing the boundaries and that he wouldn’t allow his son to travel up North.

“I’m guessing YN hasn’t spoken to you about Christmas?”. Jack asked and Harry wore a slight frown confused by his response but quickly shook his head. “Between us…Christmas is usually shit for them both…they go to YN’s parents house in Bath…I hate it but they only go once a year and we spend Christmas with Zara’s family”.

Harry felt a tug on his heartstrings at the thought of YN and Jacob having a miserable Christmas, despite being surrounded by the people who should make it special. “I’m not prodding…but is this why YN doesn’t mention her family?”.

Jack nodded, an annoyed look on his face. One that Harry could tell that Jack really disliked them. “As you can guess…they don’t like me because we had Jacob young, and they all decided to share their opinions one day…called YN everything…and I wouldn’t take it and called them all out for being narcissistic arseholes”.

“Must be so hard for her”. Harry tried to sympathise because he was loved by his family and knowing YN didn’t have the same, hurt him.

“She doesn’t talk about them much…I think it’s her way of dealing with it”. Jack explained, as he had experienced their backlash first hand. “So yeah…please take them home with you and introduce them to a nice family…they deserve a happy Christmas.

---

Harry drives up the road to his Mums cosy style cottage, and YN could already tell from the outside that this house was a home and somewhere everyone came because they’d have a warm welcome.

Anne was peaking behind the curtain through the lounge window, wanting to catch a glimpse before greeting them. She could see Harry get out of the car first, YN quick to follow. She involuntarily let out a smile as they shared a quick peck as they passed each other. Once she saw Harry head to the back door, she made her way to greet them.

“Harry!”. The three are broken from their bubble at the sound of a woman’s voice, but YN can instantly tell that the pretty woman standing at the front step is Harry’s Mum. Anne wastes no time pulling Harry in for hug, holding him tight afraid he was going to be gone for months again. “I’ve missed you”.

“I’ve missed you too Mum”. They both pulled apart, Harry turning to YN and Jacob. “Mum…this is YN-“.

“Oh it’s so lovely to meet you love!”. Anne carefully pulled her in for a hug, smiling as she did so. “I’ve heard so much about you”.

YN let out a nervous giggle. “All good things I hope”. She joked, as she and Harry caught each others eye.

“Definitely all good…I knew my boy was smitten from the first date.” Anne announced without care. Whilst YN could feel the blush on her cheeks and shyness take over, Harry laughed at his mother’s words and told her not to embarrass him. “And who’s this little lad?”.

Harry scooped Jacob into his arms, as the younger boy tugged on his hand to be held. “This little monkey is Jacob!”. But with new surroundings and a new person, Jacob tucked his head into Harry’s neck.

“What a beautiful name!”. Anne smiled up at the boy in her son’s arms, the scene being unfamiliar to her. “I feel so lucky that you did your Mummy have come to visit”.

“Thank you for inviting us, it’s really kind of you”. YN took the chance to thank Anne, knowing how special this occasion was for them all.

“You’re welcome here any time!”. Anne reassured her as she lovingly placed her hand on YN’s arm. “Hey Jacob…I’ve been baking all morning…and a little birdy told me that you love chocolate cookies…would you like one?”.

With his head still lying on Harry’s shoulder, Jacob couldn’t hide his love for a chocolate cookie. “Yes please”. His voice was quiet but loud enough for the others to hear.

“Come on in and make yourselves at home!”.

---

A few hours after Harry, YN and Jacob had arrived, Gemma and Michal walked through the front door eager to meet them. They greeted YN with a warm hug, one that reminded her of Anne’s and they gave Jacob a bit of space for him to settle.

With it being Christmas Eve, Anne had prepared a large spread of food for them all to eat together and had even bought them all matching pyjamas. It was a new tradition for YN and Jacob, as they were often left out of those things but it created an accepting feeling in YN’s heart at the thought of Anne thinking about her and Jacob.

“I’ve heard you started big school”. Anne spoke to Jacob across the table, as he used his fork to pick up the food from his plate. “Are you enjoying it?”.

Jacob nodded his head because he loved going to school and being with his friends. “Harry picked me up with Mummy the other day”. He spoke about the time that they surprised him at pick up.

“It wasn’t my greatest ideas, considering half the Mums practically announced my presence.” Harry explained to the rest of the table.

“You were definitely the topic of conversation in the Mum’s group chat that evening”. YN added. “And Jack said they were all highly disappointed when he turned up the next day”. Which caused them all to laugh at the sight of disappointing looks in their faces.

“What can I say…I just have that effect”. Harry sassily added, earning some eye rolls.

After they all sat around playing a board game into the early evening, to which they all playfully shouted at Harry to stop cheating, they all gathered up some Christmas magic and helped Jacob to prepare for the big day.

Anne had bought a personalised Christmas Eve plate for Jacob to leave carrots and snack for Santa and his reindeers. Before they knew it, they were bidding goodnight to Jacob as YN and Harry took him upstairs to settle him for the night.

---

Harry and YN came back downstairs after around an hour of Jacob’s bedtime routine and helping him go to sleep with a nighttime book. Anne told them to help themselves to any drinks or snacks they wanted from the kitchen.

Gemma and Anne could see into the kitchen from where they were both sat. “So what do you think Mum?”. Both their eyes still taking sneaky glances at the couple in the kitchen. Harry hands held her from behind as he whispered something in her ear that made her laugh out loud.

Anne smiled fondly at how happy her son was and how much more content he seemed. “I like her…she seems like a lovely girl and Jacob is so polite”.

“I really like her already…she just seems so down to earth and-“. Gemma began to give her opinion, as she watched her brother cuddle up to his girlfriend in the kitchen.

“Not fake and full of herself?”. Michal finished Gemma’s sentence for, earning an amused grin from the two women. “What? It’s true and what you were thinking!”.

“It was to be fair…I’ve never been a huge fan of the girls he’s introduced me to”. Anne agreed, smiling as Harry and YN were now facing each other, talking quietly as their arms were wrapped around the other.

“As much as their affection is making me want to vomit…I will admit they’re cute”. Gemma quickly turned her eyes away as Harry leaned down to place a kiss on YN’s lips.

---

“Merry Christmas baby”. Harry whispered in between leaving gentle pecks along YN’s neck. He could feel her melting into each one.

“Merry Christmas gorgeous”. YN’s eyes were still asleep as she enjoyed the feeling of Harry’s lips moving up her neck.

Harry carefully moved his lips to meet YN’s. Their lips moved delicately together, both enjoying the feeling of the others. As Harry moved his hand to rest at the bottom of her back, their lips began to move with more desperation. Their lips moved messily as one. But once Harry’s hand started to move down south, YN pulled her lips away, causing Harry to pout.

“Oh c’mon…that’s not fair.” Harry whined as he tried to kiss her again, but YN only laughed at his pout. “We can be quick!”.

“I am not doing anything with your mother in the next room.” YN gave her reasons, as they were still cuddled as one under the duvet.

“I’ll make sure it’s the best five minutes of your life”. Harry gave it another shot, practically begging.

YN had to cover her mouth to stop the loud laugh from waking others who were still asleep. “I don’t doubt you would…but I’m not having sex with you with your mother asleep in the next room…are you mad!”.

“Makes it more exciting I think”. Harry continued to tease her. “Set myself a challenge to see if I can make you cum without making a noise”.

“Highly doubt it!”.

---

Christmas morning had a slow start to it. They all gathered in the living room near the tree where they all watched with excitement as Jacob opened his presents that were left by Santa the night before. YN was taken back by how a family, who had only just met Jacob treated him with so much love and affection already.

Anne had gifted him a football stadium Lego set, along with some smaller toys and some money for him to choose something to buy. Jacob ran over to her and wrapped small arms around her and thanked her.

Gemma and Michal had taken a similar approach and gifted him a generous gift card for a sports store for him to spend as he pleased. Like he did with Anne, he wrapped his arms around Gemma, before giving Michal a fist pump.

The rest of the morning was spent playing with all of Jacob’s news toys and counting down until they were all sat around the table eating their roast. Jacob insisted on sitting next to Harry whilst they ate because he wanted to pull the Christmas crackers with him.

Later on in the evening, Harry’s extended family of his aunt, uncle and cousins joined them for a night of fun and laughter.

It was the first year Harry had brought someone home for Christmas, so being the joker his uncle was didn’t miss out on winding his nephew up after he introduced YN and Jacob to them.

The large group were coming towards the end of their quiz, with Harry’s team in the lead by one point. The last question asked was “In the 2009-10 Premier League season, Manchester United finished second on the league table. Who finished first?”. Jacob pressed the buzzer without thinking and the pure shock on Harry’s face was priceless, because the rule was whoever pressed the buzzer needed to answer.

“What’s the answer Jacob?”. YN asked, as she stood behind him wondering if he knew it.

“C’mon Jakey…you can do this!” Harry cheered him on, giving him a nudge of encouragement.

Jacob debated the answer as he moved around, before shouting “Chelsea!”. Everybody waited to see if the answer was right.

“Correct!”. Harry lifted Jacob up into the air as their team celebrated their win.

As the evening went on, Jacob started to show signs of tiredness. Deciding he wanted to go to bed, YN encouraged him to say goodnight to the party. As YN and Harry trailed behind the little boy, a voice stopped them.

“Oh would you look at that!”. Everybody turned to look at Harry’s Uncle Mike, confused at what he was talking about. But Mike motioned to where Harry and YN were standing, and like coincidence there was a mistletoe above them.

YN giggled at the sight, but there was a tad of nervousness in the laugh. “Kiss your girl then H!”.

Harry didn’t seem the harm in a quick peck. He leaned down quickly capturing YN’s lips in his. The kiss was kept short, for the sake of everyone else around them.

Whilst Anne smiled at her son’s affection, Mike and Harry’s cousin made kissing noises along with hollowing cheers to tease the pink cheeked boy.

“Oh stop it!” Harry could be heard chucking as he left the room.

---

Harry had been lying awake for a while, YN was sleeping next to him, small breathes leaving her body as she slept. The sound of small footsteps entering their room at Anne’s caused Harry to lift his head up from the plump pillow.

“Hey JJ!” Harry used the nickname he created for him. “Did you sleep okay?”.

Jacob nodded as he rubbed his eyes with the knuckles of his fingers, as he approached Harry.

“Shall we go downstairs for some breakfast? Leave Mummy have some sleep?”. Harry suggested, as he began to reach for his hoodie and joggers. “Do you know what you want?”.

“Pancakes please”. Jacob patiently waited for Harry to finish getting dressed before they descended down the stairs together.

The two of them chatted together as they walked through the hallway into the large kitchen. Anne was sat at the table already, donning her fluffy dressing gown as she sipped of her warm cup of tea.

“Morning boys!”. She greeted them both as she watched Harry place some pancakes into the toaster, and flicking the kettle switch down.

“Morning Mum!”. Harry was cheery as he moved around the kitchen effortlessly, gathering some plates and mugs. “Jakey…say good morning lad”.

“Morning!”. Jacob pulled the chair out next to Anne to sit on. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he glanced over, Jacob was starting to become more comfortable around his family. “Anne?”.

“Yes darling?”. Anne’s full attention was on Jacob, waiting for him to speak.

“Can I play football in your garden please?”. He asked with his big pleading eyes on display, the ones that got him everything he wanted.

“Of course you can sweetheart!”. Anne brought her hands up to her chest as the little boys cuteness and manners were too much. “I’m sure Harry will take you out there after you’ve finished your breakfast…I would take you but I’m not very good at football”.

Jacob chuckled out loud at Anne’s honestly. “You can come to my house and I can teach you…I have cones and-and everything in my garden…I can ask my Mummy if you can come to play”.

Anne’s heart melted and she looked to Harry to share her happy smile. “You’re very kind Jacob, I’d love to come and visit you and Mummy one day…maybe you can show me around London”.

“Me..Mummy..and Harry went to the market…and girls were following us…we had to go home.” Jacob said as a matter of fact, causing Anne to look at Harry with a little concern on her face.

She quickly turned back to Jacob, hiding her previous look. “I’m not as cool as Harry…but maybe we could go somewhere quieter when I visit…how does that sound?”.

Jacob excitedly nodded his head, as Harry placed his breakfast in front of him and giving his hair a little fuss as he walked past.

As promised Harry took Jacob outside to play football in the garden after breakfast. Anne was sat on the chair, watching as they ran around kicking the ball, playfully tackling each other and equally desperate to kick the ball in the pretend goal.

A presence next to Anne, disturbed her thoughts. “Good morning!”. YN’s voice was gentle, almost quiet.

“Good morning love!”. Anne’s smile showed her pearly whites, as she brought her eyes back to the two boys running around the garden. “I’m going to let you in on a secret….i’ve never seen Harry this content and happy”.

YN couldn’t take all the credit. “He’s changed my life for the better…you’ve raised an amazing man and I wish I’d met him sooner”. She didn’t hold back, she knew she’d fallen in deep. Not only did he make her feel special but he’d accepted Jacob as part of her and she will always be grateful.

“He won’t thank me for this…but I know my boy and he’s besotted with you and Jacob”. Anne knew Harry would tell her off for discussing him with YN, but she didn’t care.

“That makes us both!” YN couldn’t take her eyes away from her two favourite people as Harry swung Jacob around in circles in victory for scoring a goal.

Anne wrapped her arm around YN in a cuddle. “Welcome to the family my darling!”.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @vikiii07-blog @sleutherclaw

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sv5hive · 10 months ago

Text

c'est toujours toi | cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

content warning(s): mixture of my bad french and google translate bcos in 5 years of learning that language i didn't pick up anything useful (if anyone wants to suggest any improvements please do!!)

word count: 951

note: i had to rewrite this 3 times bcos i didn't like it and it's past midnight again. help.

(masterlist!)

darkness encapsulated the room before a video flickered onto the screen and the guests fell silent. a sense of familiarity filled you as you realised just what you were about to watch.

"maman, arrête! c'est bon!" (mum, stop! it's fine!)

the boy pushed his mothers hands away trying to adjust his clothes.

"d'accord! mais c'est ton mariage." (ok! but it's your wedding.)

as much as the woman wanted to take her son seriously, she couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

they were enjoying a picnic in the park as a family when their three sons decided to go wander off and give their parents some relief. it hadn't even been fifteen minutes when their middle child had come tumbling back towards them saying that he was going to get married.

they had almost laughed but the boy was showing no hint of amusement on his face. it was then that their two other children returned with a little girl wearing a pink dress in the middle of them. once they reached them, the boy introduced her.

"c'est ma petite amie!" (this is my girlfriend!) he proudly showed her off to his parents as if to prove a point that he wasn't just telling tales this time.

his parents simply stared at the pair in disbelief and shock.

a tiny, almost inaudible, "bonjour" came from the girl as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. they could barely hear her over the birds chirping.

"charles! tu ne peux pas faire ça. où sont ses parents?" (charles! you can't do that. where are her parents?) his mother wasted no time in scolding the three boys for taking the girl away from her family.

before anyone else could reply, the girl came to their defence.

"mes parents sont à la maison. désolé de vous inquiéter, madame leclerc, mais on peut se marier maintenant?" (my parents are at home. sorry to worry you, mrs. leclerc, but can we get married now?)

"tu es sûre que, chérie? charles est un garçon très désordonné!" (are you sure, darling? charles is a very messy boy!)

"papa!" the boy blushed at his father embarrassing him for fun.

"je vais lui apprendre à ranger, ne vous inquiètez pas!" (i'll teach him how to clean up, don't worry!)

the two adults went along with the plans to make them happy and began preparing for an impromptu wedding as best they could. his father would walk her down the aisle, his younger brother would be his best man while his older brother would be the officiant, and his mother would record the special occasion on their camera.

an imitation of 'here comes the bride' was attempted and although it was pretty much unrecognisable, you could take a well educated guess given the circumstances. the boy's father leaned down to hold the girl's hand as he walked her down the makeshift aisle with daisies and buttercups sprinkled over the grass. she whispered a quiet "merci" and soon enough the bride and groom were face to face with each other.

the older boy quickly stepped into his improvised role of the officiant with what little knowledge he had and introduced the few guests to the ceremony. after all the formalities, it was finally time for vows.

"je promets de toujours t'aimer comme ma maman et mon papa. je jouerai avec toi tous les jours et te donnerai tous mes jouets." (i promise to always love you like my mum and dad. i will play with you every day and give you all my toys.)

the boy reached out to hold the girl's hands and bumbled through his vows which only included everything that was important to him, of course.

the girl blushed and went ahead with her vows which were just as innocent and clumsy as his were.

"je promets de t'aider à nettoyer tes bêtises et de vous soutenir lorsque vous deviendrez pilote de course!" (i promise to help you clean your messes and support you when you become a racing driver)

despite only having met an hour beforehand, the two had clearly bonded and learnt much about each other.

"vous pouvez maintenant embrasser la mariée!" (you may now kiss the bride!)

cheers erupted as the boy took a brave step forward and pecked the girl's cheek to her pleasant surprise.

whistles and claps echoed through the room from your family and friends as the screen faded to black and the lights were switched back on. the reception was just starting and the guests had left their tables to eat, dance and mingle. the bittersweet nostalgia had brought tears to your eyes and you had to blink them back to be able to see clearly. you couldn't believe you had forgotten the day you two met.

you were brought back down to earth when you felt a hand squeeze yours.

"tu va bien, ma chérie?" (are you okay, darling?)

you turned to the man beside you and squeezed his hand back before replying.

"ouais, mon amour. je ne pourrais aller mieux. regarde comme on était petit!" (yes, my love. i couldn't be better. look how little we were!)

charles laughed and kissed your temple. sometimes he found it hard to believe how lucky he was to find you that day. he found it even harder to believe that you two were finally married now. after years of friendship and not so secretly pining for each other, he had finally been bold enough to make a move.

"dès que je t'ai vu, j'ai su que j'allais t'épouser. c'est toujours toi, mon trésor." (as soon as i saw you, i knew i was going to marry you. it's always you, my treasure.)

#cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc fic

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fallinforerling · 2 years ago

Note

mimi i can’t stop thinking about when y/n comes and visit sthe bellinghams and y/n and jobe hug for too long n jude is just so very… pouty the whole night lmfaooooo then when he drops you off at home he’s so clingy and whiny :c

- bora <3

ps. this used to be erensfavgirly just so you know 😭 you can tag me as roses-arerosies for all ur new fics <3

but you love me more, right? - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Jude was ecstatic once he found out you were able to come with him to England. Visiting his family already had him in a fantastic mood, but now that he knew you were accompanying him, he was over the moon. He knew how well you got along with his family, so once he let everyone know on the group chat, he confirmed all the affection his family had for you with every new text popped up on the screen.

✉️ Mum ❤: Yay! That’s such great news!

✉️ Mum ❤: Tell her I’m making her favorite

✉️ Hey! What about my favorite?

✉️ Jobe: Oh, please. She’s the apple of mum’s eyes, don’t act like you didn’t knew

✉️ Dad: Tell her that I bought new tea flavors for us to try

✉️ I’m starting to think I’m not the main attraction of this visit, am I?

✉️ Jobe: No way! Seriously?

✉️ Jobe: She’s also my favorite

✉️ Dad: Jobe, donʼt be hurtful towards your brother

✉️ Mum ❤: Canʼt wait to see you both 💕

✉️ Jobe: Tell her I miss her

He couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s text. It was obvious he had a crush on you; Jude found it funny since it was a little bit cliché, the little brother having a crush on the older brother’s stunning girlfriend. Oldest joke in the books. It wasn’t a big deal anyways.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

He didn’t consider himself a jealous person. At least, not the type of person that would go as far as considering his own brother a menace to his relationship. It was stupid to even consider it anything more than something to joke about. There wasn't a real chance of something actually happening, not only because he was his brother but also because he was younger than both of you. You considered him a little brother, for the love of God.

Nonetheless, it was hard to ignore how long the hug between you two lasted. His brother seemed to be in heaven while holding you tightly, his head basically on your neck, refusing to let you go after a couple of minutes. It was almost funny to see if it weren’t for the unnerving feeling he was getting from it. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but... Was he smelling your hair?

“It’s so great to finally see you!” You said once Jobe let you go. He looked down at you with the biggest of smiles. “And you got so tall! How did this happen?” You pinched his cheeks, treating him as you always did, with care.

However, Jude’s brain started to overthink, and he was feeling nauseous. Why was he jealous of his own brother? He was being ridiculous, and he knew that. But some things were hard to avoid, and his jealousy was one of them. He tried to fight it as you all moved to the living room, where his mom had prepared a big tray of snacks.

“So, did you had a good flight?” His dad asked once you were all sitting on different points of the large sofa. You nodded with a smile, receiving a tiny bowl full of your favorite snacks from Jobe, who only had eyes for you.

“Thank you, honey!” You said to Jobe, who nodded with a slight blush on his cheeks before getting a bowl of his own. “It wasn’t as terrible as I thought. I actually really liked the food they gave us; it was a tasty chicken sandwich. Right, babe?” Your voice woke him up from his daydreaming, making him sigh with guilt for the direction that his thoughts were taking. “Are you tired?” You asked once he didn’t answer right away, rubbing his leg.

“No, no. I was just distracted for a little bit. But yes, it was a surprisingly good sandwich. She had to talk me into eating it at first, though.”

You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but hold you closer to his frame, suddenly hungry for your touch. He didn’t let his mind slip to any other ridiculous thought about jealousy and his brother’s stupid crush on you. He gave his full attention to one of his dad’s stories, making sure to always have you close to him while listening. He knew you were giving him weird looks because this wasn’t his usual behavior around his family, but he didn’t care, he needed to have you next to him for a moment.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Okay, forget about leaving his jealousy thoughts behind.

Jobe was stepping over an imaginary line that he didn’t know he had marked down since you all entered the kitchen. He was all over your space, but the worst thing was that you didn’t seem to mind. He hugged you by the shoulders, talking about God knows what while giving you the smile he knew very well since he was the one who taught him the smile trick. Was he openly flirting with you, or was he seeing things? Why would he do that in front of him? Why would he do that in general?

When he decided that enough was enough, and that he was going to do something about the situation, Jobe left your side. He saw how you nodded with a tiny smile at whatever he said, still sipping the cup of blueberry tea his dad gave you not too long ago. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to take you away from his brother’s hands.

“Hello, pretty.” He said once he was near enough to whisper in your ear. You giggled, as every time he startled you, but you immediately turned around to hug him. “I missed you.” Jude returned the hug, closing his eyes once he felt your warmth around him.

He didn’t know why, but he was feeling the need to be as close as possible to you. Why was he feeling so clingy all of the sudden?

“Are you okay, babe? You were acting a bit weird earlier.” You said against his neck while rubbing his back distractedly.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He wanted to stop there and just enjoy the hug, but his brain had other plans. “Seems like Jobe missed you a lot.”

“Right?” You were apparently naive about what he meant by it, since you just smiled. “He’s such a sweetheart, I love him a lot.”

Okay? Ouch, no need to rub it on his face.

“But you love me more, right?” He bit his lip, surprised by his own stupidity. Why would he ask something like that? What was wrong with him?

“Are you guys ready for dinner?” His mom interrupted whatever dumb thing he was about to say after what just came out of his mouth.

“Just a minute, Denise.” You didn’t let him go, hugging his waist a little bit tighter while smiling apologetically at her. He saw the expression on your face, and he knew you noticed what was wrong.

“That’s alright, I’ll hold your plates for a minute, come when you’re ready.” His mother said, finally leaving you alone. It appears like you weren’t the only one who noticed something strange going on.

“Baby, are you jealous of Jobe?” You asked it in a serious manner, but your eyes were filled with such amusement that he felt like a little kid that just said something very stupid but very funny as well.

“No…” You knew him very well, so there was no point in lying, but he did it anyway because admitting something so ridiculous was very embarrassing.

“You’re so adorable.” You laughed after a moment, taking his face in your hands. “Don’t be silly; why would you be jealous of him? He’s like a little brother to me.”

“I dunno.” He simply answered, knowing he was being irrational. “He has a crush on you…”

“He’s your brother, Jude.” You giggled again, kissing his lips shortly. “That’s why you’ve been hugging me all night long?”

“Mmmh.” He felt mortified, so he went for the safest option and hugged you again, trying to avoid your face. You were having too much fun with this new information. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t.” You whispered back, silently laughing at his antics. He could actually feel how hard you were trying to hold your laugh. “I really love you a lot, silly jealousy included and everything.”

“But more than you love Jobe, right?” He asked with hope, still refusing to retrieve his head from your neck.

“Yes, Jude. More than Jobe.” You laughed loudly, not being able to keep it down anymore.

“What’s up with me?” Jobe said, entering the kitchen, clueless about the subject of your chat.

“Nothing!” He quickly said, not letting you give away anything that happened seconds ago. If it was bad that you already knew about the jealousy thing, it would be hell if his brother found out. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay? Well, let’s go eat it then? Stop asphyxiating her with your love, she’s got enough of that already.” He knew Jobe was just messing with him, but he had to bite his tongue and resist the urge to say something along the lines of “Well, she’s my girlfriend, not yours!” but that would be too childish, even for him.

So he just stayed silent and followed his brother into the living room, still giving him annoyed looks that were received with pure confusion. You just rolled your eyes and whispered to him to keep it down.

Needless to say, even though he acted normally, refusing to let his childish side win, he still felt like he needed to create some space between you and Jobe. He insisted on sitting between both of you, keeping a hand on your tight at all moments, which resulted on you casually laughing or giving him loving looks that just made sense to him, the rest of the family weirdly looking at each other. He made up an excuse after an hour or so, saying you two were so tired from the flight and you needed to head to the hotel, but in reality, he just wanted to cuddle with you and have you all to himself for the rest of the night. You just let him be, still messing around while giving him head scratches to help him fall asleep.

He guessed that jealousy just turned him into a clingy mess, but you seemed very okay with it, so what was the matter?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE'S TAGLIST

#jude bellingham #jude x you #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude #jb22 #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #mimi answers #footballer fic #football fic #footballer fanfiction #football fanfic #footballer blurb #footballer fluff

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pia-nor481 · 1 year ago

Text

Sick Day

Daniel Ricciardo x reader smut 18+

Season two spoilers for doctor who. This may or may not be based off of how I spent my time while unwell

1.8k words

“I’m back” Daniel yelled through the house as he closed the door. He was so excited to be back with his girlfriend, he was gone for three weeks now and just really needed to see her. he rushed through the hallway and his excitement dialled down as he noticed the silence. Normally she would have some form of music playing rather loud, wanting to drown out the silence of being alone in their shared home.

The sneezing caught him off guard and so he picked up his pace and saw her sat on the sofa; drowning in blankets with her eyes focused on the television. The volume was no higher than ten so he could only hear the mumbling of the actors voices. “What happened to you? baby, you must be so unwell to be watching tv without me.” He walked closer and saw her drained eyes and slightly reddened nose. “Danny, I’m so happy your back, I missed you so much.” Her voice came out strained and nasally. “Oh look at you, you’re so sick. What happened?” He said reaching out to her as she spoke again. “I didn’t wear a jumper when I went out. But I had a scarf on, I promise.” Daniel shook his head at the statement and walked towards the kitchen, turning the kettle on a reaching for the tea. He then poured an unnecessary amount of honey in the mug and placed it on the table.

Daniel finally pulled his hat off of his head and placed it on hers, knowing she was still feeling the chill. He moved the covers slightly to slip under them, and to touch her, knowing it would comfort her. “No, don’t. I’ll get you sick.” She was so happy he was back in a formula one car, she was so stressed for him upon hearing that he had broken his hand during the free practice at zanvoort, then the engine issues at Austin and now, he needed to keep well to ensure he would have a seat next year. “No you won’t.” He almost whispered out leaning closer to her, pulling her body towards him, resting her head against his chest, wrapping his hands over her waist. “Oh right, you’ve got your vitamins.” He laughed out lightly upon hearing her reply.

“So what are we watching?” He said, diverting his eyes towards the screen. “Doctor who.” She whispered, trying not to hurt her voice further, just as the TARDIS came on screen. A smile creeped a way on to his face, he had no idea what was going on as Cathrin Tate appeared on the screen. “So what’s happening?” She leaned further into him and pulled the blankets higher for extra warmth. “Well, the Doctor is really upset about Rose, who’s in an alternate universe with her mum, Jackie, and her alternate universe dad, who saved her life twice, I think. And some how Donna played by Cathrin Tate, has ended up in the TARDIS while getting married.” She explained like it was super simple and he was already aware. Daniel smiled, knowing this was something she enjoyed and so wanted to hear more. “Babe, Who’s Rose?”

“She was in season one with the Ninth Doctor, then he saved her life and became the Tenth doctor. In season two she employed her boyfriend Ricky or Micky, something like that, to help her and The doctor. So they went to a school when the teachers were evolved bat-vampires who were brainwashing and killing students. They also meet the girl that the Doctor originally traveled with and Rose got pretty jealous. But I would be too, David Tennant is pretty hot.” She laughed out lightly, shifting in Daniel’s lap. “Hey, I’m right here…At least he got dark hair, I’ll take that.” A grin covered her face, ear to ear.

“Anyway, they all then go the alternate universe because something happened with the TARDIS, and lots of people have been disappearing and alternate universe Micky or Ricky and his friends are trying to find out what had been happening . They then find out that the people are being turned into cybermen and then alternate Ricky or Micky dies saving everyone, Alternate Jackie also dies at some point, then Rose’s boyfriend Micky or Ricky stays to replace him and be good or something. So her and the doctor travel back to normal earth.” She said, having to pause every now and then to catch her breath. As much as Daniel felt sorry for her he didn’t want her to stop. “So Micky or Ricky and Rose are still dating, even though they are in a different universes?” He said, passing her the tea to sip on, hoping it would ease her throat.

“I can’t really remember but she kissed him before she left so probably. Anyway, some other stuff happens and they end in a Torchwood building because of some random ghosts appearing all over London. Then the find out it’s actually the cybermen slipping through the void and into their universe. And obviously they are trying to kill everyone because reasons, then a metal circle thing opens revealing the last four daleks, they are robots that started a war against the time lords, including the Doctor. At this point I started to hate Mickey or Ricky, because he touched the metal and released a lot of imprisoned daleks who want to kill everyone as they think they’re superior. So the Daleks and Cybermen try and kill each other.” She paused for a quick cough and another sip of tea. “Here, Love” Daniel said, handing her a throat sweet. “Continue.”

“So the Doctor sends everyone back to the alternate universe as they would be sucked into the void because of the travelling, apart form Jackie obviously, but Rose stayed. They have these massive magnets… Don’t laugh at that, I can’t believe you are laughing at the word massive. To continue, the lever moves so rose let’s go of the magnet to fix it and almost falls into the void but Pete, her alternate universe dad, jumps through the universe and saves her, taking her back with him. Then the void closes and she starts crying hysterically because she can’t ever see the doctor again.” She could feel Daniel nod, he truly loved to hear her talk, he wanted to make her feel listened to. “But she’s dating Micky or Ricky, right?” She shifted slightly before speaking again. “Yes, it’s bad right? But they get led to some beach where a hologram of the Doctor appears and she all crying again. Then she’s says ‘I love you’ and he just stares at her for a second, her family are all there by the way, and the Doctor says ‘Rose Tyler, I’ and the hologram fades.”

Daniel gasps, “Right in front of Ricky-Micky. What a hoe.” She laughs a bit louder than expected. “I know, it’s unbelievable.” Daniel always loved gossip, no matter where it was from. “You are such an nerd baby… Oh don’t make that face, I still love you.” He dropped his head into her neck as she spoke, “I still don’t feel any better.” He let her comment sit in the air for a minute, not sure if his idea was a good one, he needed to debate it before making a decision. “I know what will make you feel better.” She looked up at him, still unable to see his face, “What?”

“An orgasm.” He mumbled against her neck with a smile. “Is that so? She replied, trying to move to face him, but his hands were firm, ensuring she wasn’t moving anywhere by keeping them on her hips. “Yeah, I heard it’s really good.” His hand slipped up her top and began to slide down her abdomen and into her underwear. She let a high sigh, just at the feeling of him touching her skin, he’d been away for far too long. “That’s it, Love, relax for me.” As soon as his fingers made contact with her clit she miss out, loud. Daniel began to run slow and teasing circles into her skin, not wanting to build her up too quick. She could feel his touch all over her body, and it just felt so good to be back in his arms, the smallest touch was euphoric. She hummed when he applied more pressure, and he pulled her flush against his chest again, needing to have full control of her body. She pushed her hip against Daniel’s hand as she began to kiss and suck on her neck. He knew this was a massive turn on for her, and so, it would heighten her pleasure. “Uh, Daniel, please” she moaned out, almost over the edge. “Go on babe, you can cum for me.” He climax was so overwhelming that her whole body was shaking, she shook her head side to side involuntarily, and pushed her hands deep into the cushions of the sofa, it felt so phenomenal that she had no control.

“Good girl.” He whisper in her ear, making her whine and squirm in his lap again. They sat there for a while, enjoying each others company. Daniel moved to kiss her lips softly, kissing always felt more intimate than sex, it was one way of showing her that he truly and deeply loved her. She shifted slightly, laying on her side, so her ear was pressed up against his chest, hearing his heart beating. It was relaxing, peaceful even. Daniel rubbed his hands up and down the side of her torso and down her thigh, making sure she felt loved during haze of her climax. “I love you.” She whispered, knowing that he would want to hear it back. It wasn’t as if he was insecure, he just like to hear how much she loved him, it made him feel appreciated.

“Come on, let me up.” He lightly smacked her thigh to move her. He felt a chill run through his body after leaving the warmth of the blankets, and her body. “Hot lemonade and paracetamol, that’s what you need.” He said, noticing her yawning. So he reached in the cupboard for another mug. “Or do you want some nightnurse? it will make you sleep better babe.” He looked back to the sofa, seeing his girlfriend smile sent a feeling of joy through his body. “Hot lemonade and nightnurse it is.”

Daniel picked her up from the sofa and brought her to the bedroom, she was exhausted, anyone could tell that. Once he got her placed on the soft mattress, he tucked her body tightly with the quilt, ensuring she stayed warm. “Danny, you’re so sweet.” He smiled, before reaching for a t-shirt to sleep in. “It’s because I love you.” He turned around to see her fast asleep, all cozied up on his side of the bed and he chuckled. She was perfect, no matter what. “Good night love.” He said as soft a possible as he got under the covers with her, pulling her body against his.

#f1 x reader #f1 x reader smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 fic #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel riccardo smut #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #DR3 #DR:3

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 10 months ago

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Talk. || baby daddy!Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 2.2K~ Pairing: dad!gaz x mother!reader CW: canon-typical violence, events of MW2019 (references), CHILD DEATH (mentioned), pregnancy, underage!! pregnancy, some cultural/religious judgements regarding underage/out-of-wedlock pregnancy, birth (references). Tags: you/your pronouns, (reader implied female because 'mum', 'mama' and other nicknames are used + mentions of pregnant!user), hurt/comfort, fluff?, military inaccuracies I'm sure. Summary: Gaz and the reader are co-parents of a 10-year-old girl (the result of a teen pregnancy). Gaz calls home to talk to his family and he's having a bit of a breakdown after a mission. a/n: This happens in the MW2019 game timeline, somewhere after the Butcher's interrogation. NOT PROOFREAD, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN.

“SIMISOLA RUBY GARRICK, I WILL NOT CALL YOU AGAIN, GET DOWN HERE!” You shout at the top of your lungs, your voice reverberating all the way to the upper floor of your small townhouse.

“IN A MINUTE!” The girl’s voice calls out from upstairs for the… umpteenth time in the last 10 minutes.

“I swear, Kyle, this girl will be the death of me one of these days.” You tell him. “I’m not well-equipped to deal with a teenager.” You grumble as you look at Kyle’s face on the phone screen.

“She’s not a teen yet, lovie.” He retorts with a little smile. “She’s only 10.” He reminds you.

“She’s teenager enough for my taste. Bloody ignoring me whenever I call her!” You reply with a bit of a huff.

“She’s gettin’ older.” He says simply. “You tellin’ me you obeyed your mum every day at her age?” He asks.

“No, but…” You trail off and sigh, dejectedly. “I hate when you make sense, you know that?” You retort, glaring right at him with your best attempt at the ‘mum stare’, but it’s not as effective through the phone.

“Sorry, mama. One of us has to.” She adds with a mischievous smirk on his full lips. He knows how much you like it when he calls you that.

“Shut it, Garrick, I don’t want to hear it.” You retort and you can hear, and see, him giggling on the other side.

From the way the area around him has gotten progressively darker as you spoke for the last 30 minutes, you can tell he’s somewhere out East, somewhere where the sun is starting to set, since in Birmingham it’s only 3 P.M. and still fully bright outside.

“How’s the OP goin’?” You ask despite knowing that he’s not allowed to say anything about it so he simply shoots you a look before raising his fingers to bring a cigarette to his lips, taking a good long drag.

“It’s goin’ fine enough.” He adds and shrugs, before looking off to the distance just off-camera. He’s… lying. You can tell from the way his eyes furrow and his scarred cheek scrunches in frustration.

Turning your head back up, you aim your eyes at the stairs. “BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, SIMI, DAD’S ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!” You announce to what, at this point, has to be the ghosts that kidnapped your daughter because she refuses to come downstairs.

Your ears pick up on the sound of her bedroom door flying open and her feet taking her through the carpeted hall and down the steps.

You watch her coming through the vintage, little pass-through window in your kitchen. “Did’ya say dad?!” The dark-skinned girl says as she comes sliding around the corner and into the room.

“Oh, THAT lights a fire under your arse, innit? But not all those other times I told you to come down? What if I was dying, huh?” You scold her and she immediately smiles the same impish smile your baby daddy is sporting on the phone screen. He loves seeing you be maternal.

“Sorry, Mamsie.” She says while showing absolutely no regret at all in her young features. Shaking your head, you pass the phone over to Simi, whose face lights up at the sight of Kyle. “Dad!”

“Oi, kiddo!” You hear Kyle say through the phone as Simisola takes the phone with her down to the sitting room and parks herself on the sofa, talking about all sorts of things with her dad.

You watch her for a moment through the pass-through window. She’s bouncing excitedly, talking about school, her mates, her grades… It’s not often she gets to talk to Gaz, less even that she gets to see him.

Sometimes you wonder if the unpredictability of his job is going to mess her up one day. I mean, her chances of that are already high enough considering the two of you are merely 28 and have been raising her since you were still kids yourselves… But the fact he’s more gone than around in her day-to-day life is bound to mess her up too…

Maybe you should get her into some therapy, just in case.

But then again, she seems surprisingly unaffected by all of this. She’s healthy, smart, sweet… a bit of a smartass (she takes after her dad in that)... And above all else, she seems... happy.

All things considered, of all the blokes that could’ve gotten you knocked up at seventeen, Kyle Garrick was the best option… And your daughter was the best outcome possible.

Sure, you weren’t official or anything back then (nor are you now, really... though you share a bed and a home and you kiss and-), the pregnancy had been an unforeseen consequence of a tryst in the back of a car after drinking at the local pub… But looking back, you got lucky.

Either way, you were both too young, too eager, too needy, too… stupid. Neither of you thought of condoms, hoping the ‘trusty’ pull-out method would suffice.

It didn’t.

You still remember the way you had a panic attack in a toilet stall at school, you and a girlfriend skipping class to pop over to Tesco and buy a box of pregnancy tests… She took one with you, just to ease your worries… And then yours came out positive.

The fear and absolute dread you felt was paralyzing, the way you stayed holed up in the loo while your friend tried to console you and used her fuschia Motorola Razr to text your other friends to come to the toilets after class.

From there, your girlfriends texted his mates, and by the time you noticed, Kyle was elbowing his way into the bathroom, past the group of waiting students, all of them mutual friends of you both. He spotted you sitting on the dirty tile floor in the corner, eyes glued on the pregnancy test in your hand. You were ugly crying, snot all over, and hyperventilating.

Even back then, Kyle was already years ahead of any other teen you knew. He was mature and calm, collected… He sat beside you, rubbed your back, and told you it’d all be okay. You know deep down that he only held it together to calm you down but once he was alone he probably cried like a baby too.

His parents are Nigerian immigrants. In their minds, there was an order of doing things and their only son getting a girl pregnant before marriage (or before hitting maturity, really) was NOT it.

And your parents, well… They weren’t very happy about it either. Not that any parent ever is when their daughter comes home and drops the bomb that she’s expecting.

That was a bad moment for your lives… You both lived with your parents and you had to go back and forth between school and baby appointments… Kyle was by your side the whole time (or as much as he could, considering he had enlisted as soon as he hit 18) and both your parents tried their best to be supportive… But you never quite earned Mr. and Mrs. Garrick’s affection. Not even now, 10 years later.

At first, they didn’t even want to believe the baby was Kyle’s. Your father ended up having some very heated choice words with Mr. Garrick, defending your honor, and almost bringing the house down screaming that you weren’t a slag.

You were on edge and depressed back then. Once the news spread, most of your friends stopped hanging out with you out of pressure put on by their own parents… They still smiled at you and showed encouragement to you whenever you saw each other… But they didn’t come over anymore, barely spoke to you in the halls…

People stared in the streets… Whenever you went into a baby shop or the diaper aisle at the supermarket… You were stared at. The whispers of “Look at her, such a slag”, “So young and already up the duff…” never came, at least not that you heard them, but you found yourself clutching your mum’s arm particularly hard whenever she managed to drag you out of the flat and to the shops.

You don’t like looking back on the pictures of that year in sixth form. As much as you love your child, seeing the way your face became hollow and sad, your eyes weighed down by dark circles as your belly grew consistently until nothing you wore fit you right… It still stung.

You wonder how you managed to retain enough mental faculties to not earn yourself a post-partum depression diagnosis. Whatever your brain did, it did it well...

With her skin all wrinkly and red and screaming at the top of her lungs, her little fists shaking, eyes all glossy, and a little clump of dark hair on her head slicked back by the amniotic fluid… You fell in love with Simi the moment the nurses set her against your bare chest.

And Kyle did too. You could see it in the way his eyes softened, his lip trembled and his nose and chin scrunched up to contain a wail. As soon as he held her in his arms for the first time, so small against his chest, her little body wrapped in a blanket against his fatigues... you started openly weeping at the sight, blaming the hormones, but the fact of the matter was that she was so small, so tender, so… perfect.

You tune out most of your daughter’s conversation with her father as you go about preparing dinner for the two of you, moving about the kitchen, lost in your own thoughts.

Your ears perk up when you hear Kyle ask Simi if she can pass the phone back to you and let the two of you have a conversation. The girl complains a bit about how much she misses him but ends up acquiescing to him. Daddy’s girl, she is.

She rushes over, her mini twists bouncing with each step as she drops the phone onto your hand and then waves an exaggerated “See you soon, dad!”. You watch her bounce away and trot back up the stairs before you look down at the phone.

Putting on your earpods, you set the phone down on the counter, propped up by the flour container so you can still be in frame as you go about breading some thin chicken cutlets.

“What is it, Kyle?” You ask him softly and raise your brows at him. His face is a lot more grim and he lights a second cigarette.

“We lost a kid.” He replies softly. “A little boy in Urzikstan.” He adds and sighs loudly. Your whole face twists lightly into sadness. “Some… fuckin’ plonker of a terrorist…” He trails off.

“Did you kill him?” You ask him and he nods his head solemnly. You’ve learned long ago not to give your input too much on these topics… He’s chosen to keep you and your daughter away from it all…

He once mentioned that asking to be let in would be like 'dipping your pinkie toe in a pond, never knowing if something would be reaching up to pull you in'. You swore he got that quote from a John Wick movie, and then you both laughed… But you knew he meant the sentiment of it.

“I had to stoop down to his level first.” He tells you as he takes another drag os his new cigarette. “Threatened his wife… his son… to get him to talk.” He trails off and sucks in a sharp breath.

Even with the progressive darkness that has set in now, wherever he is, you can still spot the way his nose scrunches as he tries to hold in his crying… His voice is still steady, but his eyes… Always so expressive… You’ve learned to read them in 10 years of co-parenting.

“Every time that bloody barrel even went slightly near that kid’s face I-” Kyle trembles out a breath and rolls his shoulders. Then, he goes quite.

“Anyways…” He says, trying to deflect his feelings away from the things he’s had to do. “I… I miss Simi… And I miss you.” He adds.

“We miss you too, Kyle.” You reply, trying your best to be positive for him. He needs it. “She can’t stop talking about you, counting down the days ‘till you walk through that door and come wrap her in one of those alledgedly ‘annoying’ bear hugs of yours.” You quip and a genuine smirk forms on his lips.

He nods and you notice him through away his cigarette and move somewhere else. As he walks you notice the space is brighter, the camera is facing upwards, and you can see the ceiling and ceiling lights… But above all else, you see his handsome face, the light wisp of a mustache and a goatee, the scar on his left cheek, his tired eyes, and disheveled hair.

He crosses a threshold into another darkened space, but this one is much quieter. You hear some shuffling sounds and even though now you really can’t see shit, you know he’s there, staring at you… And you know he’s lying down.

“Lovie… Can I ask you a favour?” He says as he sighs deeply and slowly.

“Yeah, what is it?” You end up saying as you set aside the breaded cutlets and wash your hands.

“Tell me everything I’m missing. Tell me everything that Simisola did and said… Tell me about your day… about work… share all the gossip you’ve got…” He requests.

“Just… Just talk my bloody ear off.” He pleads. “I just need to hear your voice.” He adds, his tone a lot more gentler. “Please…”.

#ikea writes 💚#kyle gaz garrick #gaz deserves respect #baby daddy!gaz #father!gaz #fatherhood #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #teenage pregnancy #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle “gaz” garrick #kyle “gaz” garrick x reader

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pretty-little-mind33 · 6 months ago

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ooo thank you sooo much to @longlivedelusion for tagging me in WIP WEDNESDAY 🌸

I'm gonna add two small sneak peaks from an upcoming James Potter fic and an upcoming Tangerine fic 🤭💖 bc i couldn't choose!

enjoy my loves! (hopefully the full fics will be out soon!)

JAMES POTTER - Afterglow

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him.

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds. Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you.

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up. "Yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met and—"

You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head.

TANGERINE - The Archer pt.2 of Delicate

Y/n. Tangerine mouths your name as he stares into the bathroom mirror, his toothbrush hanging from his lips. Y/n. The name suits you and warmth spreads inside his stomach as he spits into the sink and his mind is filled with memories of how sweetly you'd looked at him.

Fuck.

"Oi," Lemon's hurried voice snaps him out of whatever was happening and Tangerine turns to him, leaning his hip against the counter. "Some weird fucker is on the phone," Lemon shows his brother his phone, an unknown number displayed clearly on the screen. "Says we have something of his."

Tangerine bristles and his jaw clenches involuntarily. He holds out his hand for Lemon to hand him the phone and when he does it puts it on speaker and holds it close to his ear, letting Lemon lean in and hear the conversation.

"'Ello?"

"You have something of mine," a hoarse voice cuts the silence. The man behind the phone sounds older, like his voice has had the time to become damaged from years of smoking, and he has a Irish accent.

"And what might that be?" Tangerine retorts, sending Lemon an unsure look but he keeps his tone steady.

"You have my wife."

~ hehe 😉 ~

absolutely NO pressure tags to some of my lovelies - @little-miss-dilf-lover ~ @moonlightspencie ~ @lost-pen-name ~ @ellecdc ~ @j23r23

#james potter x reader #tangerine x reader #james potter x fem!reader #tangerine x fem!reader #james potter #tangerine bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #tangerine bullet train x fem!reader #james potter marauders #the marauders era #bullet train movie #tangerine 🍊#james 💋

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mistydeyes · 1 year ago

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little moments and little voices

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: Despite the long hours and constant threat of death, the 141 always has something to return to. Even when they're away, they love the moments you share with them and your children.

pairing: 141 x fem!Reader (established relationship)

warnings: none :)

a/n: i redid my little headers for each section so hope you enjoy!

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

“C’mon babies let’s call daddy,” you said as you gathered your three little children. “Mum we’re not babies anymore,” the eldest spoke up as your youngest climbed in your lap. “Alright my mature adults, let’s call your father,” you said in a fake stern voice. Your children laughed as they got settled. “You sound like daddy,” your son giggled as he sat down. "Okay is everyone ready?" you asked and they all nodded in agreement. You grabbed the laptop and pulled up Skype and they all giggled as it rang.

After two rings, John's face lit up the screen. "Well hello there," he said as he sat back and your children rushed to wave hi. "We all miss you, sweetie!" you exclaimed and blew him a kiss. "I miss you all too," he replied as he held a hand up to the screen. "Daddy guess what?" your middle said as she climbed onto your lap to see her dad better. "What, pumpkin?" he replied happily. "I lost a tooth," she exclaimed and showed her dad the empty gap in her front smile. "She's been showing everyone, sweetheart," you laughed as you placed your face back in the frame. You continued to have your other two children provide their updates, your eldest had gotten the best marks at school and your youngest recently learned how to tie their shoes. You could see your husband smile at them proudly as he praised all of their achievements. Eventually, you saw the time and knew it was time for bed. "Kiddies I think it's time we head up to bed, yeah?" you asked and you were immediately met with groans. "Don't act like that for your mother," Price scolded and the whining stopped. "Maybe if you ask nicely, Daddy can read us all a bedtime story," you smiled and they begged your laughing husband.

Eventually, he relented and your kids happily climbed down and raced upstairs. This was their favorite part of the night when John was away and were all dutifully ready to be tucked in. You followed with the laptop in hand and set it up so that all your children could see. "Alright, let's see what we have here," John chuckled, "I have a new one for you it's called '‎Goldilocks And The Three Bears'" your kids oooed in response as you sat next to your youngest bed. "I have a special guest," he continued and shifted the camera to the left, "Uncle Kyle is here and he'll be doing some of the voices." You waved as you saw the Sergeant appear on the screen. The kids screamed with happiness at the sight of their favorite uncle appearing. "Hi kids, I'm Goldilocks," he said in a high-pitched voice and you let out a small laugh. As soon as everyone settled, John prepared his best narrator voice and opened the book. "Once upon a time, there was a young girl named Goldilocks," he began. Before you knew it, he was reading the last few lines. By now, your children were fast asleep. The excitement from seeing their father and the laughter from Kyle's impressions had tuckered them out. You kissed them all gingerly before picking up your laptop and heading downstairs.

"Hi sweetheart," John said as you settled on the couch. "How are you doing?" you asked and his smile faltered a bit. "Tired, missing home," he replied and your heart ached slightly. "We miss you too, John," you whispered as you brought the device closer. "I'll be home soon, just have to tie up some loose ends," he noted. God you missed him. You knew what you had signed up for on your wedding day but these last few months had been hard. You sighed as he looked at your thoughtfully. "Want me to tell you a bedtime story?" he joked and that's how you fell asleep to your husband just talking.

soap

“Daddie daddie daddie!” is all the warning Johnny got before his two twins came running to him. “Slow down there, wee little ones,” he laughed as he went to pick them up in his arms. After four years, Johnny would never get tired of this. “Mammy did face paint with us,” his son said as Johnny examined his face. You had in fact painted their faces and they were excited to show their father. “Let’s get a proper look at both of you,” he said as he sat them both down on the kitchen counter. His kids smiled widely at him and he could see a collection of butterflies and bees on his son’s small face and hearts and flowers on his daughters.

“Where’s your mam now?” he asked as he lowered them off the counter. His daughter excitedly grabbed her dad’s hand and led him to the master bathroom. You stood there washing off your hands and brushes to see your tiny terrors dragging Johnny in. You smiled when you saw them tugging at your husband's arm. You put the brushes down as your twins jumped up and down in excitement. “Hi sweetheart, everything good at the brief?” you asked as you walked over and kissed his cheek. Your kids squealed in disgust and hid their eyes as he held your face gently. "All good, love," he replied, "now what's all this face paint business about?" You looked down to see your kids running around as if they were in a sugar rush. "Ah I had them lying around and they were getting antsy waiting for you," you said and gestured for the twins to settle down. As you continued to clean and chat with Johnny, your daughter had a brilliant idea.

"Mam, can you do some face paint on Daddie?" she asked sweetly and you looked over at Johnny who looked equally as excited. You sighed as you had just finished cleaning your brushes but you always folded for your children and your husband. "I guess I could," you said and the whole group cheered. You set up your station again and Johnny sat on the bathroom counter, leaning down so you could see his face. He squirmed a little under your grip and you ran your fingers over his stubble. "I could make something work," you said before pulling out the paints in your other hand and beginning your masterpiece. You made sure as you were painting to tell your kids not to ruin the surprise. Johnny held onto your waist as you painted. Your children moved around every so often to get a better angle of your work.

"And done," you said with a smile and he turned to look at himself in the mirror. "You've outdone yourself," he said as he examined the delicate brush strokes. "I wanna see!" your son called and Johnny hopped off the counter so they could get a better look. The twins gripped his cheeks and giggled at the splashes of yellow and blue and white. "It's a duck!" your daughter exclaimed. "It's a family of rubber ducks," you said as you bent down, "There's a daddie, a mammy, and two little ones following." They moved Johnny's face around to see the two parent ducks on one cheek and the two smaller ones on the other side. "That's us!" your daughter said as she touched the wet paint. She quickly rubbed it off on her dress and you sighed as you had just gotten them changed that morning. They ran to the playroom and before you could follow, Johnny held you back and kissed you. At first, you thought it was romantic but you soon realized he had brushed off the paint onto your face. "You're a bastard," you joked as you examined your face. "Ye but I'm yours," he said and you laughed as you went to follow your wild children.

gaz

"Shhh don't ruin the surprise," Kyle could hear you say as the door slowly cracked open. All morning, you and your daughter had worked on something special for him. According to your five-year-old, it was "Top Secret" and Kyle was happy to catch up on some shows while you and her worked in the living room. Your daughter jumped onto the bed as Kyle reached to pause his show and you joined soon after. "Okay it's time to close your eyes," she said and Kyle put his hands over his eyes. You smiled as you handed your daughter the masterpiece she had been working on. "You can open them now," she giggled and shoved the paper into his hands. "This is amazing Ivy," he said as you lay down next to them. "She made it all himself," you smiled as you turned to see the drawing.

Today was Kyle's last week before a long deployment and your daughter had wanted to give him something to have. All morning, she drew and colored a drawing of your family including your German Shepherd. The childish drawing had you and Kyle in front of your house and your daughter running around with your dog in a yard of green grass. Kyle kissed your head as your daughter described the scene and pointed out all the drawings. "...then we have mummy, she's wearing the green dress you got her," she said as she continued to point. "And who's that handsome guy?" Kyle said as he pointed to himself. Your son smiled up at you before replying. "That's you, Daddy," she said, "I wanted to draw your uniform but it was too hard so you're wearing a shirt and shorts." Kyle laughed as the drawing was surprisingly accurate, the clothes were things you wore daily and the house looked like the one you were sitting in.

"Well I'm sure my little artist is hungry," he said as he got up and placed your daughter on the ground. "Let's go out to eat today," he announced and your daughter jumped up and down. "I wanna pick out my outfit today," she triumphantly said before running off to her room. Kyle took this opportunity to grab you and hold you in his arms. "Thinking about another little one?" he joked and you laughed as you rolled over to face him. "Not when you're away," you exclaimed, "don't even get me started on the weird cravings Ives gave me." He kissed you gently and you knew you would revisit this as soon as he got back. "She doesn't want you to leave," you whispered after you sat in silence for a few moments. "I'm going to miss you too," he replied and held you closer into his chest. Parting was always such a bittersweet time for the family.

Before you knew it, Ivy came storming back into your bedroom. "Look at me!" she said as she twirled around. You and Kyle propped up to see her in a similar green dress. "Oh Ives, I told you that you were going to wear that when we picked up Daddy from the airport," you scolded but Kyle placed a gentle hand on your waist. "It's a special occasion though!" she exclaimed and you just smiled at her early surprise. "I love it, sweetheart," Kyle replied as he helped you up. "I only think it's fair if Mum wears her green dress," he smiled and kissed you on the forehead. Despite having the surprise ruined, you enjoyed walking around the streets of your town with your daughter in matching dresses and your husband lovingly smiling at you.

ghost

Simon woke up to hear the soft taps on the piano and your soothing voice guiding your son. “Alright sweetheart let’s try that again,” he heard your voice instruct as he played the beginning notes to Heart and Soul. Simon lay in bed for a while as he listened to the peaceful melody. He had been gone for too long and your son had gotten even better since he was last home. You were now able to play duets with him and didn't have to direct him through the sheet music. He smiled softly as he got out of bed and made his way down the stairs. He made sure to walk gently as to not disturb his two musicians. As he descended, you joined in with the duet and began to play the other notes. “Heart and soul, I fell in love with you,” you began and Simon heard your son's little voice join in. Your voice was light and it filled the home with life. When you were first pregnant and he found out it was a boy, Simon feared he would turn out like him but after seven years all of his worries were quelled.

"...and stole a kiss from the night," you both finished as Simon entered the living room. After a few years, you knew when Simon was watching so it didn't surprise you to see him in the doorway. "When did you learn that?" he asked as your son ran up to hug him. He held him to his leg as he watched you turn from the piano slowly. By now, you were about 7 months along and were clearly showing. In just a few more weeks, you would be welcoming a little girl. "I taught him a few weeks ago, he's a fast learner," you proudly announced as you closed the piano lid. "I can play two songs now," your son boasted as Simon lifted him up and tussled his dark hair. "Better than I could ever do," he replied and he lowered your son and made his way over to you. "We might just have to get you lessons, Elliott," you said as your son joined you back on the piano bench. He beamed at you as you looked at Simon's mini-me. "And soon we'll have our own little orchestra," you continued and patted your growing belly, "she loves when Elliott plays, I imagine she's dancing in there." In the morning sunlight, you looked radiant and Simon kissed your forehead gently.

As you shared a brief moment together, your son insisted on playing a new piece you had just started to teach him. "I don't know El, you heard how bad I was singing last week," you joked as he looked at you with puppy eyes. Eventually, you relented and you motioned for Simon to watch. You cleared your throat as your son stretched his fingers and found the starting notes. Simon's ears were soon filled with the melody of Edith Piaf's La Vie en Rose. He smiled softly as you soon began to sing. "Des yeux qui font baisser les miens," you began in an attempt at emulating Piaf's elegant French accent, "Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche." He watched as Elliott's hands moved around the keys as you sang the romantic song. Despite not being as musically inclined, Simon recognized you were in the key of C, something you had taught him. He closed his eyes as you both continued to perform in sync, savoring the melody and your soft vocals. As soon as he finished with a few ending notes, Simon clapped softly. You and your son laughed as you bowed to your audience.

"It's still a work in progress," you laughed as scooted off the piano and joined next to Simon's side. As you enjoyed the soft moment with your head on his chest, Elliott posed a question. "What if we name the baby Rose," Elliott spoke up and you both thought for a moment. "But out of all the songs why Rose?" Simon asked as you looked at your son. "Mum's always so happy when she sings it, I think the baby would like it," he continued and Simon listened intently. You had been flipping through baby books for weeks and no one of them truly resonated. As you thought about the idea, you suddenly felt the baby kick and smiled. "I think little Rosie agrees," you said happily before sitting down. Simon joined on the other side of the piano and you three squished on the small bench. "Rose it is then," Simon said and enveloped you all in a hug. Before you could get up, your son had a brilliant idea. "Dad let me show you how to play 'Chopsticks'" he exclaimed and Simon knew he was trapped with his musicians.

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ragingbookdragon · 2 years ago

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He’s in the middle of the checkout line when the phone in his pocket buzzes. He ignores it at first, but a glance towards the fifteen year old employee lazily scanning the items of the first of five in line, him being the sixth, tells him it won’t be any time soon before he’s there. He checks his phone, eyes widening when he sees, “SOS” written across the screen. And from Price’s wife no doubt. Three jars of pickles shatter on the floor along with a bag of chips and a pack of ground beef, and he sprints for the exit, car keys already in his hand as he prays nothing is wrong with her.

It’s about twenty minutes before he gets to Price’s flat and pulls into the driveway, already scanning for any signs of struggle or attack. There are none visible so far and he grabs the glock he has in the glove compartment for emergencies before he gets out and runs for the door, banging on it. Footsteps sound behind it followed by a baby’s cry and the door pulls open to reveal Price’s dearest wife, disheveled in dirty clothes and tangled hair (he’s like eighty-seven percent sure there’s baby vomit in it), with swelling tears in her own eyes as she holds a screaming eighteen-month-old.

She takes one look at him before breaking down much like her son, blubbering loudly, “I can’t get JJ to stop crying, Simon.” Tears are streaming down her face as she cries, “I’ve tried everything to get him to stop. I’ve tried feeding, burping, napping, changing his diaper, everything. He just won’t stop.” She reaches out with her free hand to him. “Simon, please, I can’t stop him from crying. Help me.”

SOS, indeed, he thinks and immediately puts the safety on his gun, putting it on the side table as he steps inside, takes the baby, and closes the door behind him. JJ stops crying as soon as Simon starts hushing him and muttering, “Giving your mum trouble, ay? What are we gonna do about you, Banshee?”

JJ’s cries subside as he coos at the masked man and she starts crying harder. “How’d you do that?” she bawls. “Oh God, I’m a horrible mum. I can’t stop him from crying ever. Only Jonathan can. He never cries when Jonathan is here. Only when I’m with him.” she’s almost inconsolable, rubbing harshly at her eyes as she blubbers, “He hates me. My babe hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Simon sighs and gently takes her in his free arm, putting his chin on her head to calm her more; he rubs her back. “It’s okay, mum” he murmurs. “Newborns aren’t easy. Gotta take it in stride.” He looks at her. “Why didn’t you call Price?”

“Because he’s so busy,” she cries into his black sweatshirt. “He’s so good with him when he’s home and I know when he goes into work, he’s busy and I don’t wanna disturb him.”

“He’s JJ’s dad. Besides, don’t lump the old man in with other men. He’s a good one.” Simon pulls back, free hand wiping her tears. “I’ve gotta treat you like Soap, don’t I?” she only looks at him as his fingers brush her under eyes. “Go eat and shower. I’ll take care of JJ for you.”

She quietly nods, lips pulled in a upside down “U” before she leaves, disappearing into the kitchen. He starts bouncing JJ lightly, talking to him. “Bub, you gotta stop being a banshee to your mum. You’re gonna drive her crazy. And if you drive her crazy, your dad is gonna go crazy and then I’m gonna go crazy.” JJ just laughs and tugs at the strings of his sweatshirt before seeing if they’re edible.

Simon walks to the kitchen and watches as she stands in front of the refrigerator and shoves food into her mouth. He almost laughs, almost, as the memory of a drunk Soap shoving roast beef out of the pack and into his mouth comes to mind. Still though, he watches as she eats until she’s no longer hungry, then bypasses him and goes to her bedroom. The shower starts after a while. It’s almost two hours before she comes out and peeks her head from the doorway.

Simon is there with JJ, playing with a stuffed action figure Gaz had gotten him when he was born, making up stories about himself taking out enemies. JJ is enjoying it, giggling along and she smiles sadly before closing the door.

***

Price gets home around seven-thirty and when he sees Ghost’s car in his drive, he’s confused and a little concerned as he walks through the front door. Setting his things down, he walks around the corner into the den and Simon is there on his couch watching some show about ancient warriors and weapons, JJ drooling onto his sweatshirt.

“Simon?” he calls, and the man lifts the remote in a greeting. “Where’s—”

“Bed. Asleep,” he interrupts. “Been asleep since two.”

Price walks into the bedroom and sees her curled up on his side of the bed, clutching his pillow; he smiles at the sight and closes the door, walking back into the den. “How long have you been here, Simon?”

“Since eleven-forty-five.” He rubs JJ’s back. “Little guy’s been driving her crazy. Crying on her.”

“Shite,” Price curses. “She kept saying everything was fine.”

“Oh no, she’s lying. Thinks she’s a bad mum ‘cause he cries so much with her.” He looks over. “I think he just likes us soldiers, yeah?”

The old man sits beside down on the floor and gently runs a hand through the brown hair on his son’s head. “Yeah, never cries when I take him in.”

“You want me to take him for a few days so she can rest?” Simon offers. “Me and the Banshee will have a good time.”

“I don’t think she’d mind that. Well, she might. She’s awfully protective of the lad.”

“Of course. It’s her babe.” Simon inhales and exhales. “Give me a blanket, yeah? May as well stay the night.” Price nods and rises, handing him a blanket before reaching for JJ and Simon swats at him. “Hands off my godson.”

“He’s my kid,” Price argues and Simon glares at him.

“And I’m holding him. Try tomorrow if you can pry him from me.”

Price rolls his eyes but raises his hands in defeat, content to kiss JJ’s head and, “I love you, son,” before he squeezes Simon’s arm and disappears into the bedroom to cuddle his wife and sleep peacefully.

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live-laugh-lenney · 9 months ago

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loving the dad george content but what would arthur be like as a dad??

i was waiting for this to come in, hahaha. :')) we need to go into more detail on this trope like we did with girl-dad!george. i think it's a desperate need, too... i can already feel my mind racing with ideas...

"how?"

"arthur, for god sake, do you really need me to answer that?"

he gulps back the thick lump in his throat that sat low, head aching and he felt constricted and tight with the headphones that hung around his neck, the main channel video he was editing going long forgotten about on his screen. and she can see the colour of his cheeks vanish. and she was thankful he was sat down because she was certain he would have passed out once she told him the news.

she didn't want to take the test at his place... but it was a burden on her mind as the pregnancy test box sat in her handbag, hanging on the back of the chair tucked underneath his desk in his bedroom, and she just needed an answer. having felt sick for the last few weeks, waking up feeling nauseous and unable to keep her breakfast down her, it was either a serious matter of needing a doctor to take a look at her or she had fallen pregnant... she wanted it to be the former but she had a gut feeling it was the latter.

"but-"

"i know. we were careful."

and they always were.

he had a stack of condoms in his bedside table for when they got a little carried away. she was on the pill.

except that one night, coming home from a party thrown to celebrate a birthday, where they stumbled into his flat drunk and desperate for each other, ripping off their clothes and leaving a trail right up to his bedroom door. it was quick, lust-filled, drunk. neither one of them in the mood for foreplay. she didn't remember reaching for protection, she didn't remember him taking a moment to wrap himself up, she didn't remember sliding it on for him or watching him take it off... so she wholeheartedly trusted her own protection to save her.

she knew it had to have been that night.

the dates matched.

"we clearly weren't that night," she adds, "arthur-"

"i don't- i- yn, i don't know how to be a dad."

"and you think i know how to be a mum? arthur, in case it didn't occur to you but, i don't have kids. i've never been a parent before either," she hisses at him from his office doorway and he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, "christ, i'm just as scared as you right now. and i think i deserve to be-"

"it's a two person situation, yn," he claims, sticking two fingers up in her direction and she frowns, "i don't deserve to be scared?"

"yeah but you're not the one who has to go through the chances, are you? you'll still remain you where i'll look like i've stolen a watermelon from the supermarket," she grumbles lowly and he lets out a slight snicker; the light tension that was building had seemingly fizzled out, the initial shock still lingering in the air but it was something he could ignore, "it's not funny!"

"a watermelon?"

"it's the first thing that came to mind," she sighs heavily and puffs out a long breath from within her chest, "you're not going to throw up at any given moment because a smell puts you off. you're not going to have hormone changes and cry at stupid things. you won't get fat or start to waddle because you can't walk properly. you don't even have to push them out of a tight hole that's not big enough."

he sets his hands down on the arms of his chair and pushes himself out from underneath his desk, standing to his feet with his arms stretched out in her direction, and he takes her hands tightly in his own.

"i get that, i do," he hums softly, stroking a knuckle with his thumb and using his other hand to pull her into his chest, "but that doesn't mean my feels are invalid. i'm a support system for you in a situation that i've never had to deal with before."

she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face into the tee draping down his chest, the smell soothing the butterflies that were fluttering around in her stomach - the one thing she panicked would happen never did and it put her mind at ease.

"yeah, okay, but you won't get fat, arthur," she grumbles.

"you won't be fat though," he assures her, pressing a kiss to her head, "you'll be carrying a baby. our baby. making sure they're growing and that they're healthy. you're a home, keeping them safe, looking after them."

they stand there in silence, swaying from side to side, seconds going by and she truly felt like they could work everything out together. as a team.

"you're not upset?"

he pulls away and looks down at her, shaking his head, "why on earth would i be upset?"

"because we never spoke about this. we're not even married. we don't live together," she looks up at him and makes eye contact with him, "i know it's not ideal and-"

"i'm scared, i'm not upset," he interrupted and smiles down at her, "we've got nine months to figure everything out. i'd say that's enough time."

and, of course, he spent nine months reading all the baby books and reading things online. buying book after book from amazon and creating a good pile on his bedside table that he read before they went to bed, reading out different facts and important things so that he could involve yn in his learning. asking all the right questions at their midwife appointments. asking his mum and his step-mum all the right things to understand what could happen during her labour and what he could do to make things easier. and he's so proud to talk about it when people ask him. xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv prompts #arthurtv blurbs #arthurtv headcannons #arthur frederick #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick blurbs #arthur frederick prompts #arthur frederick headcannons

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slut4msby · 1 year ago

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the atsumu hny was super cute !!! loved It sm !! I hope you had an amazing new year's celebration!! was jus wondering if you could write something w samu or maybe Kita Shinsuke (24) rice farmer ? btw inarizaki #1 forever 💯

high school sweethearts. kita shinsuke x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; fluff for a change of scenery & reader has a kid

+ a/n; I READ THIS AND WENT INSANE OMG I COULD TALK ABT KITA SHINSUKE (24) RICE FARMER FOR EVER. Fun little piece of lea slut4msby lore, when I first watched season 4 I had not read the manga yet and when Kita first came on screen i went insane. Also Kita and I are legally married?? My friends through a fake wedding for me because I was so in love with this man. And pls keep the Inarizaki reqs/asks/anything coming bc i am INSANE about inarizaki (i am normal i swear) <3

You couldn’t help peer out the window of your shared home with your husband. He was outside with your 5 year old son, playing some volleyball. Your son had never taken a liking to sports until your husband began cleaning out his old stuff, stumbling upon his jersey from his high school years. He would never admit and you would never bring it up but he did get emotional looking back at these days.The days where he led one of the greatest teams, not on the main roster, but he was still aware of the impact he had on the boys. He wasn’t the worst player but nothing notable, however Shinsuke had the power to put anyone at ease and you loved that about him.

Shinsuke never showed much self-confidence when the two of you had met in your first year. It’s not that he didn't have the confidence he just never felt the need to show it, and you appreciated that about him. You appreciate how no matter what Shinsuke was straight the point, you appreciated his need for routine, which has really helped your home life. You appreciate how he loves, how he cares for others. Kita Shinsuke was the perfect man.

However, despite how lucky you feel to have Shinsuke in your life. He feels even more lucky for you, he knows you are his soulmate from the day he met you in the first year. He felt as if all the work he had ever done paid off, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. At the beginning it was just a hallway class, the girl from class 1-6. Having your classes next to each other & both being in advanced classes meant the both of you would have recurring meetings. The next thing he knows, Aran had recruited you as the volleyball clubs manager as the team wouldn’t shut up about not having one. Shinsuke then began spending everyday with you, which turned to every waking second he was with you whenever he could be. He was your best friend, right?

That’s what you had thought. You would have never admitted your crush on Kita that began growing. However his admiration for you began sprouting. He loved the way you smiled, how you got along with everyone, took care of yourself and others, how you tie your shoelaces, how you set out your notebook, how you played with your hair when you were nervous and how you didn’t seem to fear anything. Unlike him. Kita had put his feelings behind him, until he decided it was now or never, graduation. It was cliche, Shinsuke knew that. He had gotten you a bouquet of flowers, you had mentioned your favourite flowers in a passing conversation the second week of the second year. A useless piece of information, Shinsuke remembered that. Why wouldn’t he? He loved you. That day to Kita’s surprise, you said yes. You agreed to be his girlfriend.

Now, almost 10 years later. Shinsuke was your husband. Those flowers he had given you on graduation day you had pressed, they stayed on display in your kitchen, as well as a photo of you and Shinsuke the day your son was born. Now Shinsuke spent his days as a rice farmer instead of a volleyball player. However seeing him playing with your son reminded you of the man you fell in love with.

You snapped out of a trance when your son called out to you, “Mum! Look! Dad taught me how to play volleyball like he used to.” You couldn’t help but smile, “He said I was really

good! Mum, can I start playing volleyball! I wanna be like dad!.”

You turn towards Shinsuke, he looked so amused at the scenario. You jokingly roll your eyes at him, “of course you can baby!” You said planting a kiss on your son's forehead. “How about for now you and daddy go get cleaned up?”

“Okay!” Your son responds with a toothy smile, before your son begins pulling your husband down the hallway.

You felt like the luckiest woman alive.

©slut4msby

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu angst #hq x reader #hq #haikyuu #inarizaki #kita shinsuke #shinsuke kita #kita x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #kita shinsuke x reader #shinsuke kita x reader

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themultifandomgal · 6 months ago

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From 2010- This Is Us Movie

2013

Part 36

Ok so before we get into this one this will be written in 3rd person as if the reader is the one watching the film (does that make sense? I have no clue) it will probably jump around a little from scene to scene and I also won’t really be including anything on stage. Anyway I hope you enjoy.

29th August and everyone is waiting in anticipation for This Is Us Movie to start. Chattering can be heard until Niall’s voice is heard The screen is black as Niall says

“When I was small I had a desk, it was weird because I wrote on it ‘when I grow up I wanna be a singer’ I like scribbed it in. And it’s still on the desk”

“Life at home was my mum, dad me and my three sisters” Zayn now speaks as photos of the boys houses and where they lived start showing “you can say I had a heavy woman influence from a young age”

“We lived in a tiny house and I used to have a little bed in my mum and dads room” Niall’s voice says again the screen showing a picture of when he was younger

“I used to sit on the windowsill and imagine things like winning the lottery” Liam says

“When I was little I knew I wanted to entertain people I was a proper show off” Harry says as photos of Harry are shown

“When I was at school I was the class clown I’ve always been that guy who made people laugh” Louis’s voice says

“When I was younger, I was shy. I didn’t want to be the centre of attention. It was my mum who was the outgoing one, she could sing, I guess that’s where I got it from” YN says as photos of her family are shown “it was just me, mum and dad growing up, mum tried to get me to join different activities, but I was to shy”

The photos transition from family pictures to photos of the o2 arena which then transitions to video footage. Music playing and Liam is seen walking out onto the stage singing ‘up all night’ before the rest of the band start singing.

The first song ends and video footage of fans stood out side the arena is show chanting and screaming. More footage is shown of different tours and news anchors talking about then band.

“Wether we’re together or apart we can both remove the marks and admit we regret it from the start” the boys and YN sing, harmonising while walking backstage towards the front of the arena

“Oh my….” YN gasps holding her dog cookie in her arms

“Its scary being here now. I feel a bit nervous” Liam says to YN.

Harry and Louis are playing football as Paul the choreographer tells the boys and YN to start rehearsals

“Louis your on that end YN move into the middle” the screen shows the boys and YN rehearsing before it changes to them trying on outfits

“Sometimes I feel like I’m the mum of the group getting the boys to do as they are told” YN tells the camera in a dressing room while Harry is taking funny photos “H take a serious photo would you!” YN scolds and immediately Harry takes a nice picture of him in his outfit.

———

“That is sick” Louis says looking at the stage

“Holy… wow” Liam says stunned at the lights

“I wish my mum could be here to see this, to see us”

“She is. She’s always here” Harry hugs YN as the screen transitions to YN sat down

“When I auditioned for X-Factor I truly didn’t think I was going to get through. My mum always thought I should go on and since I was able to I knew I had to do her proud” a photo of YN and her mum are put on screen. It’s a photo of them smiling while out at a flower field “I miss her so much everyday” YN tucks a loose piece of her hair behind her ear revealing the tattoo she has in dedication for her mum.

The boys talk about their experience being formed

“It was crazy the day YN joined” Liam says sitting down in a room “we had only just gotten used to each other then there was Simon bringing in a girl to join us at judges houses”

“YN and I actually met during the auditions and when I saw her walking in with Simon I felt confused”

“Seeing Niall there I felt my anxiety lower, all I could think of is thank god one member will be ok with me. I was so scared joining the band”

“It was vital that we became friends before we became colleagues” a video of YN, Harry, Niall, Liam, Zayn and Louis is shown. They’re all sat outside on a hot day laughing at something Harry had said.

———

“I’m going to miss you” YN says to Cookie as they lay on the floor while Harry is packing his bag. Cookie then licks YNs face

“She loves that dog more than she loves us” the music stops and Louis laughs from across the room “see doesn’t even deny it” the screen switch’s to Niall then Liam then back to Harry and YN “are you going to pack? Our flight is in 4 hours”

“Soon. Let me just cuddle Cookie a little more”

“See loves her more than us”

———

“Madison Square Garden. The worlds most famous arena. Just sums it up. I don’t know where we go from here really. It’s mad” Liam says next to a banner

“I’m really nervous”

“Me to bro” Niall and Liam are sat down on some chairs looking out as the crew move around to build the stage.

The screen changes to the boys and YN on the stage doing a rehearsal, but YN is on the floor with an ice pack on her ankle

“YN went over her ankle with her heals on” footage is then shown of YN running on the stage and slipping and Zayn trying to catch her “so we’re just waiting to find out if she can perform tonight or if she needs to go to the hospital” Harry says to the camera then back to YN when she starts saying ow as Niall and Liam help her up. Harry then walks away from the camera and grabs a chair for her to sit on. The camera zooms in on YNs face in pain.

———

Niall is seen running down the halls with YN in a wheelchair then into a room where Liam and Louis are

“I’m so nervous for tonight” YN says “not only are our parents here tonight but I have a bad ankle”

“Are you doing the show in the wheelchair?” Niall asks YN

“No going to take paracetamol and wear trainers. Hopefully I don’t hurt it more, but I’m performing here” YN says determined.

The next scene is of YN getting out of her wheelchair and running to her dad who walks into the area with Anne and Robin. Tears can be seen in all of their eyes

“I’m so proud of you” Thomas says holding his little girl in his arms. YN let’s go of her dad and give both Anne and Robin a hug before Harry is seen bringing back her wheel chair and demanding she carries on resting her ankle until they go on stage.

———

After live while we’re young the camera switches to Harry, Louis, Liam, Zayn and YN all lying down in an airport lounge trying to catch up on sleep while Zayn has a voice over saying that it’s non stop. It then shows an airplane flying over Tokyo and the band leaving the plane. Cameras flash and paparazzi call their names

“This is a little strange. This many photographers aren’t allowed in the building in the Uk” Harry says walking next to YN who is trying to keep her head down. The airport is crazy full of fans. The band all take time to sign autographs and take photos

“I never thought I’d be here in Japan with this many fans wanting to take a photo of me or have my autograph. Sometimes I feel like I’m in some crazy fever dream that I’m going to wake up from and find that is 2010 again and I haven’t auditioned”

The next scene is of Harry reading a Japanese news paper, Liam balancing a tea pot on Louis head. He then pours milk into the cup. The camera pans between Harry and YN who shakes her head smiling

“I work with children and I’m actually the youngest here” YN chuckles as Louis runs off spilling the tea and cracking a plate. Harry shakes the news paper and then his head.

———

“Right lads and lady were tourists for the day” Liam says taking a photo of YN, Harry, Louis and Niall stood in front of the Eiffel Tower

“We don’t often get to explore the country we’re in so if we ever get the chance to we definitely take it”

“It feels like an adventure everyday” Niall says

“It’s like a big holiday really. With a lot of work involved” Liam says to the camera

“It’s a good job I enjoy my job and my coworkers” YN says “well sometimes” YN then walks off leaving a stunned Harry

“Hey that’s rude”

———

“I’m just a natural aren’t I really. I don’t mess around that’s the main thing for me” the camera points to Liam who’s fishing, Harry who’s lay down with his eye closed and YN who’s looking out to sea “I think the Europe trip so far has just flown by. When you think about tour rehearsals and everything, it seems such a long time ago now”

“I know” Harry says putting his hand in front of his face trying to block the sun while he looks at Liam. YN turns to look at her best friends

“Do you remember when you walked in and Simon said we would be working together?” Harry asks YN

“Yeah. I was so scared you guys were going to hate me or something. I mean when I first joined there were little clashes here and there but it wasn’t anything huge”

“Yeah we were just trying to change dynamic a bit. Like be respectful to you a stuff” Harry says looking back at YN

“If I wasn’t in One Direction right now I think I’d be in a factory or being a fireman” Liam says

“I’d probably be living back home in Shrewsbury doing something at Uni. Would you have opened your own bakery?” YN turns to Harry

“I was a great baker”

“And yet we’re still waiting for you to bake us something”

“I will… one day”

“Fish!

“Yes!”

“Ahhh don’t you dare” YN squeals as Liam brings it over to her

“Come on YN give it a kiss”

“No!”

“When we’re on tour they’re still young people who like playing games” Preston one of the security guards says as video clips off Harry running away from him is shown

“I am their dad on the road” Paul Huggins says “the only issue I have is that they’re all a pain in my ass. Yes even sweet little YN” the next clip is YN hiding under a table then grabbing peoples legs making them scream “the boys have corrupted her”

“We’ve got some days off scheduled. The boys are going home, Im staying in LA for a bit. I’m going to miss them. I spend so much of my time with them, I live with Louis and Harry so it’s hard when we’re not together. It’s like somethings missing” YN hugs her befriends as they leave her alone at the airport “I know I’ll see them soon, but part of me wants us to stay together. Love you!” YN shouts.

———

“Sometimes the media can get to me” YN shows a photo of YN and Liam walking around LA “this was taken when I stayed in LA for a little bit before going back home to see my dad. Im in Australia right now, the boys are coming soon because we will be doing the last part of tour here then in Japan. I guess like any job there positives and negatives. I love what I do, but it’s had when you get hate for living your life. It can be hard, but I have some of the most amazing friends and family who help me through all of that” the camera then shows a video of YN running up to Niall who picks her up and swings her round “there’s truly something special about our friendship. I never feel separated from them because I’m a woman” another clip of YN Harry scooping YN up into a bear hug is shown “they’re part of my family”

“I’m so proud of YN” Thomas, YN’s dad is shown on screen sitting in his kitchen “she’s always been rather shy and after her mum died that shyness almost took over her” again another clip of YN and the boys is shown, this time of them racing each other in an arena “if she hadn’t of joined the band I don’t think she would have coped. The boys have become her befriends and have brought this other side out of her. A more happy and confident side that I haven’t seen since before Lisa passed away”

“We’re back baby!” YN shouts having a group hug with the band as ‘one way or another’ starts playing and the clip changed to them on stage singing.

———

“I can’t believe you threw water on each other and got me wet” YN laughs looking at the 2 culprits while they all sit on the tour bus

“Own up! Who’s farted!” Louis says

“Niall own up” Harry says laughing

“You know, sometimes when its really smelly, Niall doesn't admit it” Louis continues

“Hold on who here never admits to them but we all know they’re the worst” Niall then points to YN

“No don’t blame me. I don’t admit to them because I don’t do them on the bus”

“No she saves them for stage” Zayn laughs

“Hey it’s not my fault I have nervous farts”

“Kinda is” Harry says and YN is seen hitting Harry playfully making him laugh.

———

“How the hell did you get me to agree to go camping with you” YN laughs carrying a large back pack

“Is there any bears in Sweden?” Liam asks

“Where we putting the tent?” Louis asks

“Put it over here” Niall directs the boys and YN

“I’m hungry” YN groans

“We need to make a fire first”

“I’m on pine cone duty” Louis says sounding extremely happy

“Oh it’s good the instructions are in Swedish” Liam saying looking at the little booklet

“We don’t need instructions Liam”

“I’m hungry” YN moans again

“Are you gonna come and help?” Harry asks YN

“But I’m hungry” YN now pulls out at a packet of crisps and sits down on a chair

“Where… how did you… you know what you sit there and eat your crisps”

The day turns into night and the band are sat around the campfire. YN and Harry are sharing a blanket to keep them warm

“Do you think if one of us wasn’t in the band we wouldn’t be this big?” Liam asks

“No, definitely not” Harry shakes his head

“I don't think so either. I think we each balance each other out” liam replies

“What’s mad is one day we won’t be doing this” Louis says

“No mater what we do or where we go in life, I just want you all to know that this has been the most amazing experience of my life”

“Awww YN!” Harry hugs YN tightly into him

“I mean it. I’m proud of us. Whether we last for 10 year or just another year. I will always look back at these memories with fondness”

“Do you think we’ll still be mates?” Zayn asks

“I hope so. Even if don’t talk all the time I think we will always be proud of one another”

“Ok YN your getting to soppy!” Harry says.

———

“It’s the last day of tour and while a part of me is excited to have a break, I’m going to miss being here on tour, being with these idiots every day” YN says “I can’t believe that we are able to do what we love and it’s all thanks to the people who are supporting us. Weather they’ve supported us from day one on X-Factor or have only found out about us today. Thank you, it truly means the world to us all” with that the the video fades of a video of the band bowing before it cuts to the credits.

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