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eyesxxyou · 2 months ago

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First Time 💋

🩸・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.5k

synopsis. you were everything logan shouldn't want. young, religious, and innocent. you were sweet to everyone. and you've never been touched. logan wants to be your first everything.

warnings. age gap relationship (reader is 21, Logan is nearing 50) , religious reader, innocent reader, explicit consent, blood, taking of virginity, a bit of toxic relationship dynamics, logan is not a good person, not edited

↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3

You were dealing with the devil in disguise and you didn't even know it. For even the devil was once an angel, the most beautiful angel in heaven. That’s the way he tempts even the purest souls into damnation. And you were his latest victim.

Your purity was hanging by the thinnest thread called “virginity” which you were steadfast in not giving up. Logan wasn't pushing it by any means. Slowly but surely, you were giving up pieces of yourself to him. Giving away slices of your precious soul until before even you knew it, you had given him your entire cake. In fact, he had taught you how to give a blow job, confined you to let him hump against your clothed pussy, then eventually against the bare thing.

Logan was growing ever closer to obtaining you, possessing you wholly.

You had already gone home for the night when there was a steady, polite knock at his door. Logan, with a cigar hanging from between his lips, initially thought it was you. That was how you knocked, with a small rhythm and a tender politeness.

But much to his dismay, when he opened the door, Logan found that it was not you, but your father standing before him, still dressed in his Sunday best.

Now, for a moment, Logan thought that this was it. You had either been caught or in some sort of religious guilt, you had confessed everything. Either way, he was sure he had been busted and your father had come to wreak havoc upon him. Either way, he wasn't scared. At the end of the day you were two grown people who had made their decisions.

“Mr. Howlett, nice to see you again.” Your father smiled. There was no malice or ill intent. You were both in the clear. Logan took his cigar from his mouth and put it out in the ashtray beside the door. “I hope I’m not disturbing your night.” He could see where you got your politeness from. Your father was a good, mild-mannered man. Average on all accounts. But he made a spectacular girl of you.

“Not at all, Reverend.”

Your father, with his hands crossed nicely at his front, was smiling politely. Logan wondered if he knew you had just been here. He wondered if he knew that he had his daughter on her knees with his dick in her mouth. Did he know that he came on your face? Did he know that your mouth felt like heaven?

“I was wondering if you could come by my house tomorrow. Unfortunately we have a bit of an issue with the pipes in our kitchen. I wanted to know if you could take a look.” It was innocent enough but the idea of being in your house made Logan almost swell and explode. He tried to hide the smile, the enthusiasm behind his “sure, I can take a look”.

“Great, thank you for your kindness, Mr. Howlett.” Logan can almost hear your voice in his. Small, quaint, unassuming. “You can come over in the morning. My family and I will be out but we'll leave the door unlocked so you can get in.”

Logan closed the door as your father walked off his porch, already looking forward to tomorrow morning. He thought of how he’d make his way through your house, into your room. He imagined going into your drawers and taking a pair of your pretty little panties to keep for himself. He imagined getting in your bed and jerking off until he came, right on your pillow.

He was up bright and early the next morning. With a small handle of whiskey to wake him up, Logan was out the door by 10 am with his toolbag in hand, a cigar hidden away so he could smoke out the back when he needed to take a break.

Your house was far different than his, bigger, painted a light blue with pastel yellow shudders and a white trim. It was the picture perfect house containing a picture perfect family. What a terrible person he must be to infiltrate such a home.

Your Father said the door would be unlocked. Your family car wasn't in the driveway, you all must have left already. Logan, with laborious steps, made his way up your porch, white wood, a few rocking chairs and a table where you must have put out lemonade and watched the sun go down.

He welcomed himself inside. Your house smelled like wilting roses and antiques. There were crosses everywhere, Bible verses on boards and Rae Dunn as far as the eye could see. Standard, religious, suburban home. He saw nothing out of place from your old brown couch to your wallpaper, pretty and bright.

Logan considered if he should work on your faulty pipes first or take his sick pleasure in your room. After a moment, he adjusted his grip on his toolbag and made his way through your living room and into your kitchen. He’d wait until he got the job done, then take his sweet time in your room. He’d make it a reward.

As it turns out, it was quite simple. You had the wrong piece for the pipe under your kitchen sink and it was connected incorrectly. Logan was halfway beneath your sink when he heard bare feet padding about the hardwood in the living room. He came out, a large hand on the counter to help himself up. His bones weren't what they used to be.

You had come rounding the corner into the tiled kitchen, dressed in nothing but a pretty, little, pale, pink nightgown that stopped at your mid-thigh. You paused at the sight of him, eyes wide and startled like a deer in headlights. “Mr. Howlett?” Sweet little thing, your arms went to cross over your chest, obviously not covered by a bra as he could see the peaks of your nipples poking against the fabric.

Stumbling back a bit, you swallowed. “What are you– my dad said you wouldn't be here until later when he came back.” You watched with your fawn eyes as he stood with a grunt in his white tank top, rough, blue jeans, and steel-toed boots. You were vulnerable, fully and entirely. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Naked under your nightgown besides just a pair of tiny panties.

“Wanted to get this out of the way. Didn't think you’d be here, doll.” Logan took a step towards you and you didn't dare take one back. Your gaze flickered to the side. “I was gonna go but I wasn't feeling well.” You’re all soft and meek and sweet. As if to prove your point, you let out a little cough. He could just devour you.

Logan looked back at his work. “Well– I figured out what's wrong. Should be a simple fix once I get the right part for it.” He looked back to you, eyes all soft. “I'm free for the rest of the day, babydoll.” You know what he was trying to get at. You were home alone, practically naked, the idea wasn't so far beyond you anymore.

You bit your lip. “You want to see my bedroom? I just redid it.”

A smile twitched at Logan's lip. “Yeah, doll. Show me your bedroom.” You reached out and took his hand in yours, large and calloused. You guided him with your padded feet, occasionally looking back at him as if he’d disappear from behind you. If you were Orpheus, he’d already be gone by now.

You took him up the stairs and around the banister into your room done up in white, floral wallpaper. Your bed was neatly made with a single giant stuffed bear sitting against the pillows. It was obviously old and well-loved. Your room was just like you, soft and quaint.

Letting go of his hand, you went and you sat on the edge of your bed while Logan took his time examining this space you call yours. “It’s nice, really. Pretty, like you.” He stood in the center of your room, looking at you. You were fiddling your fingers in your lap, looking anywhere but him. You were thinking, thinking hard. Your lips twitched.

“What are you thinking about, dollface?” Logan made his way to you and grasped your chin in his fingers. He made you look at him with your doll eyes and your doll lips which you pursed softly. Silently, you stood from the edge of your bed, pressed between it and Logan's solid body. With your hands against his chest, you got up on your toes to reach his face and carefully pressed your lips to his in a tender kiss.

Your hands caressed his face softly, his beard prickly under your fingertips. You were still awkward and timid while kissing, but you were getting better at it. Still on your toes, you broke away from the kiss and wrapped your arms around Logan's neck. “I think I'm ready,” you whispered, voice quivering.

A better man would have asked, “are you sure?” A good man would have told you to wait until you were absolutely sure or even, to stick to your morals and wait until marriage. But Logan was not a good man and all he wanted was you, your entirety, resting in his palms like a baby bunny.

Logan dipped down and kissed you harder than before, with a feverish desire to take your soul straight from your body. His hands slid under your little nightgown, palms against your flesh, groping at you. Your breasts, your ass, the plush of your hips. You whimpered at how rough he was with you and Logan swallowed every squeak.

“Please…be gentle.” You pleaded with him. Your body shuddered as you felt the rumble of Logan's chest. He chuckled lowly.

“Oh, doll– I’m not known for being a gentle man.” There was something a bit feral in his throat as he spoke. “Come on, let's get this off of you.” He tugged at the hem of your nightgown, up and over your head, leaving you partially naked. Your hand immediately shot to your chest, shivering like a scared puppy.

Logan grabbed your wrist, despite his words, he was trying his best to be gentle with you. He didn't want to break you. What was the good in breaking something he wanted to possess? No, no, he didn't want to break you. Logan wanted you to be so thoroughly his that you'd never question him, your loyalty to him was what he wanted.

He took your hands from your breasts to get a good view of them. They were perfectly sized, soft looking. Your whole body was tender and sweet, with plush flesh and sweet curves all where they ought to be. Logan salivated like a pavlovian dog. He kissed you and palmed at your little, cotton panties, tucking his thumbs in and tugging them down.

You whined. “S-slow down.” Pleading as he removed them from you and carefully pushed you onto your bed. You felt too vulnerable nude before him. But Logan was already on his knees, between your legs, kissing and licking down your trembling thighs. “What are you doing?”

He put his mouth against your little love and you let out a sharp yelp. “Wait!” You never thought someone would put their mouth down there. It felt dirty. It felt good too. He pushed his tongue past your wet lips and licked your pussy before sloppily making out with your cunt.

Logan was a messy eater. All tongue and lips, licking and suckling against your most sensitive parts. His large, rough hands gripped at your thighs to keep them parted and pressed to your chest.

You never had your pussy ate and it was easy to tell. You were so sensitive to every touch of his tongue. Every flick against your swollen clit made your entire body shudder and a sweet mewling squeal left your lips. Your back arched from the bed, your toes curled into the air over your head. “Mr. Howlett!” You let out in a long, drawn out moan, your hand in his hair, tugging.

You tasted like heaven. Like he could find the meaning of life between your legs. He drooled all over your cunt like it was the most delectable thing he's ever had the honor of tasting, slurping and panting between rough licks. Logan felt that he could easily become addicted to this if he allowed himself to, the sweetness of you, the way you quivered.

But Logan didn't want you cumming just yet. He needed you to be on his dick first. He offered a few more desperate licks to your pussy before kissing your clit and bringing himself up to stand between your legs. His large, bear-like hands worked at the buckle of his belt. “You know when your parents will be home?”

You shook your head slowly, lips rolled.

“Then we’ll have to be quick.” It wouldn't be the ideal for a girl’s first time but if you wanted “ideal” you shouldn't have chosen someone like him to give up your virginity to.

You watched him pull his cock from his pants, half hard and almost beautiful as he pumped it in his hand. He was large, larger than anything you’ve ever taken before. You could hardly handle two of his fingers before crying. How could you possibly take a thing like that inside you and still remain composed? You were terrified out of your mind and as Logan pulled you by the hip towards the edge of the bed, you were starting to reconsider.

“What if it doesn't fit?”

Logan glanced at you. “I’ll make it fit.” He should tell you that it’s going to hurt at first, that there might be blood from your hymen breaking, but he didn't want you to back out. So he stayed silent, stroking himself to complete hardness until it could stand straight on its own. “Open your legs, doll.”

You hesitated but you were never one to disobey. Trembling, already on the brink of tears from the mere fear of pain, you spread your legs apart just enough for Logan to slot in between them and hold your hips. He looked at you and thought it best to reassure you. “Don't freak out. It’ll only hurt for a minute. I’ll be right here.” It was all vapid. He just wanted your virginity, your sweet, little cunny. He wanted to wear your purity around like a trophy.

Logan was not a good man. You should have known this.

He spat on your cunt, let the saliva dribble from his lips and land on your clit where it traveled its way down to your entrance. Logan played with it with the tip of his length, spreading it all across the rose between your legs. You whimpered like a puppy, writhing at the hips as he slapped his cock against your love and teased at all the possibilities of entering you.

He was right. It did hurt when he started easing his way into you. His cock, long and thick, stretched you out to a point you had never gone to before. You almost screamed or maybe you did. Tears swelled in your eyes as you squirmed against his hold. “It hurts!”

“I know. Just hold on.” He pushed his hips to yours and settled there for a moment. You were too tense. It would only hurt more if he continued before you adjusted. “Relax for me. It’ll only keep hurting if you don't calm down.” You were gasping, sobbing. “I– I can't!”

“Yeah, you can. Just breathe. Stop crying, doll.” Logan rubbed your hip with his hand and cooed at you. He rolled his hips against yours, coaxing you into whining. You let out a deep, panting breath, fingers gripping at the sheets of your bed. You reached out and grabbed your teddy bear to hold for comfort.

You pressed your face into the side of the bear’s head and nodded. “Go slow, please.” Your eyes glistened as you looked at him, cheeks still wet with tears. Your fingers grip into your teddy as Logan grunts lowly. “Sure thing, babydoll.” He grabs your thighs like you grip that stuffed animal, for dear life. You’re so fucking tight, gripping him like a fucking vice as he pulls his hips back.

There's a bit of blood on his cock. He ruptured your hymen with just one thrust. Logan pressed your legs to your chest as he fucked you, starting slow as you requested. He reveled in every desperate cry that clawed at your lips, every pined whimper that fell away into pleasure. Your toes pointed then curled, pointed, curled.

The pain didn't last too long, the blood still wet on his cock as you mewled. You looked quite cute holding your bear, your knees beside your ears, and you can't spread out around his slick length. Logan almost growled with each rut into your soft, silky pussy clinging to him.

It took everything in him not to brutalize you. Not to show you exactly what intentions he had with you. You were nothing serious, but you were his and his alone. He was not the type to marry but if it meant diving into a cunt like this every night, he just might put a ring on your finger to keep you satisfied and placid.

You were so dizzy with dick you might as well have fallen in love with Logan. Maybe you were in love with him. You were certain you were. You would have never given up your virginity to him if you hadn't believed that maybe, just maybe this might go somewhere.

Your father might let you marry him. He’s far older than you but Logan has a good reputation. He might not be a church man, but most accept him within the community. If you pleaded enough, if you told him Logan stole your virginity, he’d demand you two get married to save the family's reputation.

You let out a steady “ah, ah, ah” and “ohhhh!” with each thrust that takes the wind out of you. Logan likes the noises you make, how surprised they sound. You know nothing of this, of his evil, of his hellish ways. “Keep moaning like that. You're gonna make me cum, babydoll.” His hand slithered between your legs, thumb finding your clit toy with.

You squeaked, squealing. “No, no, no! I gonna–” you could hardly get it out before it happened, a great fountain of clear liquid coming from you and landing all over Logan's front. You always found your squirting embarrassing. You were mortified that you had got it all over Logan, still mostly clothed. Some of it even got on his face.

He bared his teeth, licking his lips like some starved animal. You were hazy-eyed and shaking with an orgasm so intense, you might as well have died and come back to life. “Logan– Logan, please.” You huffed, breathless and tired and begging him for something, anything, everything.

“Please what, doll?” Logan was rather amused by the way you writhed beneath him, holding your teddy so tight he thought you might rip it apart. He was so close to cumming, you made it impossible not to do it fast.

You shook your head with a great sob, tossing an arm over your face. “Please…don't cum in me! My dad will kill me if I get pregnant.” You couldn't handle the thought of disappointing your parents. They’d disown you, they’d…they’d…you didn't know what they'd do.

You sniffled as Logan chuckled at your request. “And what if I did, huh? What if I came deep inside you and put a baby in you, then what?” He liked how hard you sobbed, how you cried and moaned at the same time. Despair and pleasure all wrapped into one neat, little bow.

“Please, don’t.”

Logan groaned lowly, faltering with his thrust as his hips shuddered and his cock pulsed in the sweet tightness of your cunt. Just at the last second, he pulled out and came all over your pelvis and lower abdomen, shooting out great, white ribbons across your supple flesh. He didn't want to get you pregnant. He was a bad man, but he was no baby-trapper.

There was silence between the two of you. Your first time was not anything quite special but it was with someone you wanted to have it with so at least that was something. You felt…disgusting. Like a whore, like you dishonored your family.

Logan could see it. He could see the way you slowly dwindled into self-doubt and self-hatred. He took your hand in his and pulled you up into a sitting position. “Gimme some sugar, baby.” He leaned down and kissed you gently, holding your jaw in his hand, stroking your face. With a single kiss, your worries melted away into nothing, a void mind filled with only thoughts of a perfect life with Logan.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, your parents will be home any moment now.”

A perfect life not meant for you. Logan would never commit. He wasn't capable of it. He might want something nice and simple like a wife and a family, but he knew he’d never be satisfied with it.

Logan Howlett was not a good man. And poor you for falling in love with him.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x fem!reader #x men wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x fem!reader #the wolverine #wolverine x reader

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verycoolusername1 · 6 days ago

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But Two Though?

Summary: In which you're so in love with your boyfriend that you see yourself starting a family with him and you obviously had to sing about it!

Track 10 of short n' sweet - juno

Quinn Hughes x Singer!reader

Warning: romantic themes, kissing, pet names, mentions of children, mentions of parenting, and mentions of sex.

A/N: even tho it's a singer reader this imagine also has AFAB!reader(cause of the song lmao) I still use they/them pronouns, no need to worry about that.

Juno is literally so good, and since I gave Nico bed chem, I just HAD to give quinn Juno! Hope you enjoy. And I had this fun idea of embarrassing Quinn when he's with his family on stage last night soooooo

You were estastic when you found out Quinn and his family would be at your concert tonight.

You brushed your hair for what felt like the hundredth time as you calmed your nerves.

Your manager later called you to get on stage, and you rushed there immediately. Your fans cheered as they saw you with your guitar.

"Hi everyone!" You waved to them all.

The crowd roared in excitement as they saw you and sang along to your many songs till the very last one. Little did they know that you had a little surprise.

You finished your last set, and when you didn't go off the stage like you normally would have, your fans grew in confusion but nonetheless enjoyed it.

"You didn't think the show was over, did you?" You chuckled teasingly. "I just have a little special song."

Your fans gasped as the Hughes looked at Quinn for an answer that never came.

"I wrote this song but I'm like never gonna release it." You chuckled. "Might give it to sabs- Sabrina or something. She'll certainly know what to do with it."

Your fans cheered at the slip-up not nonetheless you continued.

"I can't say much about this song, but... it is different from my other songs, different from older and five seconds flat." You explained. You and Quinn were quite private about your relationship, so you didn't want to go overboard on the speech. "I don't know how to describe it, but it made me feel things I didn't even know I would ever feel. This song is called Juno, like the movie Enjoy."

Your fans cheered to your speech as you strung notes on your guitar.

"Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing, oh yeah you just get it." You sang. "Whole package babe, I like the way you fit god bless your dad genetics."

Your mind flashes to you and Quinn in bed, cuddling next to each other in the night. The love you two shared never fading only growing stronger after that night.

"Will this change something between us?" You asked, looking up at him.

"What? No, never. We're still us, you know that." He reassured you.

"Still us." You confirmed in his hold.

Quinn looked at you in confusion. He knew your songwriting, it was a shock that this song was more upbeat and not lyrical there was a hint of fun behind it.

"I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows," You hummed. "I might let you make me Juno."

He knew this song was about him, but how? Unless... Oh... oh

You saw Quinn as he interacted with J.T.'s kids and how easy it was to do so. It made your heart swell.

Natalie came up behind you. "You want one, don't you?"

You put a hand on your heart, currently not expecting it. "What?"

"A kid," She clarifies.

Your face flushed as you realized you have been caught. "I mean sure one day but it's too early."

"Well it doesn't help to try now, talk to him." She encouraged.

"Believe me, we've been trying." You chuckled dryly, Natalie on the other hand laughed loud.

"What's so funny?" Quinn was in front of you two now, holding one of the kids at his hip and you couldn't help but wonder... what if that was your kid?

"Oh nothing, Y/N just telling me what an amazing cook you are." Natalie winks at you as she takes her leave with her kid in tow.

Quinn eyed her suspiciously. "Okay... what were you two really talking about?"

"Exactly what she said, how you're a great cook, an amazing one." You lied through your teeth.

Quinn knew you were lying, if anything you was a much better cook than he was but he decided to let it slide and hugged you from behind the rest of the time.

You continued on with the song, getting out of your comfort zone more and more with each line. "Adore me, hold me and explore me, mark your territory tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one."

Luke hums. "This song is definitely was not what I expected."

Jack exclaims. "I'm sorry, did they just say what I think they just said? They just said they're horny on stage."

"You don't have to repeat it." Quinn mutters, his face getting flushed as the song came to a close.

Ellen looked at her son lovingly. "Been together five years and you still get shy when you hear a song they wrote about you."

"Let's not tease him too much he still has yet to ask the question." Jim joked.

"Dad," Quinn groaned.

"You can borrow my ring sweetie, the replica that is." Ellen offers.

"No mom it's not that..." Quinn trailed off.

Jack being the first one to realize, gasped aloud, and shook Luke back and forth. "You already have a ring!"

"I'm going to wait for them backstage." Quinn began to walk away.

"At this rate, we're gonna have to propose for him." Luke mutters, Ellen hit him on the head as a response as they followed Quinn.

When the rest of the family got there, you was already in Quinn's arms looking at him lovingly. They decided to go into their own conversations, letting you two talk alone.

"Did you like the song at the end?" Your voice began timid, the more you grew vulnerable.

Quinn hums. "Yeah, it was nice. Didn't know you wanted a kid with me."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to tell you about that." You look away from his gaze but he quickly gets it back.

"I want to have kids with you too Y/N. If I wanted anyone to make me a father it would be you." Quinn admits.

"You really that?" You said hopefully.

"Of course I do, but I would want to do something first before we get started." He says.

You grow confused. "And what would that be honey?"

"I would like to marry you." Quinn says without hesitation.

Your eyes widened in size as you took in his words. "You want to marry me?"

"I don't have the ring with me right now and I love you too much to say just one speech but I do know that I see myself spending the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me." Quinn looks at you hopefully.

"I'll always want you Quinn, I would be glad to marry you." You caressed his cheek, his eyes closing at your touch.

"I love you guys but please do not make me an uncle tonight." Jack says.

You both glared at Jack who quickly back off, he mutters a sorry and says he'll meet them in the car, Luke joining him.

Once they're gone, Quinn looks at his parents with a shy smile. "We're getting married."

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b14augrana · 4 months ago

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Ad Astra Per Aspera

Nothing gold can stay

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 3 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion. this chapter in specific discusses themes of abuse and alcoholism.

A/N: the long awaited part 2 to ‘ad astra per aspera’! this took a lot of thinking and scrapped passages to really get this on point, i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

"You’re early today!”

You smiled halfheartedly at Magdalene and Dani’s teacher, nodding at her. “Yeah, uh, I’ve gotta get to work a bit earlier today so…”

“Not a problem, I’ll see you later,” the woman responded. You gave Magdalene and Dani one last hug before returning to your car, having hope that you’d finally be early to training for once and go the day without being berated by Alexia.

You didn’t want to relive the other night’s training, not in your mind, and definitely not in person. With you, Alexia was a completely different person to the patron saint of Barça that everyone painted her as. You wanted to change that and show her you weren’t as irresponsible and careless as she thought you out to be, but you couldn’t.

It was a relief to see the training pitch parking lot barely populated as it came into sight. There was maybe two cars, which meant you were on time. How incredible.

Before every training, a hopeful feeling swelled inside of you — one of happiness, because you saw football as a means of enjoyment and something to look forward to when all else came crashing down in your life. It was short lived of course, but like a phoenix, it always came back one way or another. Were you wrong for believing in your sport to help you?

"(Y/N), you're early.. for once."

You knew that voice all too well. There was a surprised tone that Alexia's voice held as she spoke, and you knew she expected you to show up late once again if not miss practice completely.

"Yeah, surprise," you replied dully, sitting down on the bench to put your boots on.

"Why are you early?" she asked, and it was a bit of a stupid question.

'Well, after you yelled at me in front of everybody the other day, I decided that if I have to drop all three of my siblings off to school, I might as well do it as early as possible so I don't have to worry about getting screamed at and humiliated at half past nine in the morning!'

"Dropped my siblings off earlier today," you mumbled instead, eyes fixated on the ground as you spoke. You were sure that eventually, your fear would be the one to corrupt your family completely, but you couldn't tell Alexia; it was equivalent to opening yourself up to her, being vulnerable even after trying so hard to maintain a tough front.

She glanced at you, her eyebrow just barely raised but her mouth idle. You cinched your laces tightly and sprung to your feet, very aware of her gaze fixed on you as you grabbed a ball from the bag and dribbled it over to the nearest wall, preparing for the training session ahead.

More of the team started to file through the pitch gates. You could hear their bags dropping to the ground as you passed against the wall, and as Mapi passed behind you she squeezed your shoulder. “I’m glad to see you, (Y/N),” she said, a smile on her face.

For once, as training started, you didn’t feel dreadful. You were excited and motivated by the good start to the morning, which showed in the newfound pep in your step and enthusiasm around the pitch.

After a long while, the sun began to set, which indicated the end of training. You sat down at the bench, unlacing your boots and trading them for sandals. Unexpectedly, Alexia sat down beside you, saying, “Good job today. You did well.”

“Graciés,” you responded, standing up while slinging your bag over your shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

She watched you leave through the gates, her eyes unwavering on your figure disappearing around the corner.

You lived next to a lovely elderly lady named Margalida. She was a sweet woman, always saying bon día and bona tarda to you and your siblings whenever she saw you. Sometimes, after you returned from training and picked up your siblings, she invited you four into her home to share pastries with her. You always accepted, of course, because it was much better than subjecting yourself to the olfactory assault that was your home, and she was also a widow that you figured needed some company from time to time.

When you weren't home, you couldn't monitor your mother's behaviour; praying that it would stay somewhat normal would have to suffice. You didn’t know whether Margalida knew about the true nature of your household or if she thought you were all naturally raucous.

You pulled into the driveway, parking the car as the doors opened and your siblings got out of the car. “(Y/N),” Magdalene said slowly, imploring you to look at her curiously. “Who are those people?” she pointed ahead, and that’s when you noticed Margalida at your doorstep, alongside two police officers and another woman. She looked like a regular office worker, but you weren’t an idiot; she was obviously a social worker, which could only mean one thing. A bad thing.

"You three stay in the car for a bit, okay? I'm gonna go talk to these people," you said to your siblings, motioning to the car as you turned around again and walked towards the people.

You felt nothing but dread in your gut as you approached them. One of the cops, who was talking to a distressed looking Margalida, looked at you and began to speak. "Miss (Y/L/N)?"

You nodded slowly, "Before we talk, can I just send my siblings inside?"

"That won't be possible," the officer said, making you raise an eyebrow, "...Because we're here regarding a call about a person inside, which we now know isn't you."

"I heard yelling from inside," Margalida added. "It was loud, and– and it sounded like there was crashing, from things being thrown around."

She took a deep breath, looking at you sympathetically. "I thought one of you was being hurt, so I called the police."

"I know your situation with the..." she paused, gesturing to the rubbish bin. You spun around, your eyes widening at the sight of it. Cans and bottles galore filled the bin to the brim, threatening to spill out. You could count at least ten, and that was only at the surface of the deep bin. You could recall the rubbish being collected just a few days ago, and now it was basically full.

She looked at you, her eyes pitiful. You hated it, so much; pity made you feel like a kid, and it angered you that the only time you got to relive any sort of childishness was when someone noticed you were suffering, not because you actually had the liberty to behave like one again. Where was the pity when you actually were a kid, having to wake up and stay afloat to support three other kids?

"Who else lives here, other than you and your — I'm assuming — siblings?" the other cop asked.

"My mother. My dad left a few years ago," you mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Is she home right now?" he asked, and you nodded. "Yeah. She's probably asleep, so if you did knock on the door, that's why nobody opened it."

"Asleep or blacked out?" his partner suddenly added. You looked at him, clenching your jaw as you shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? I've been at work all day."

"What do you do for work?"

"I'm a footballer."

"For FC Barcelona?"

"Buy a ticket and maybe you'll find out."

You ended up sitting across from the two officers and the social worker in a dingy, dark room scarcely furnished with only a table, three chairs and a dirty window to accessorise it. This time, the woman did most of the talking while the cops just surveyed the conversation. Magdalene, Dani and Lorenzo were sitting in the waiting room of the station — you didn't want to drag them along, but you didn't have much of a choice.

"Can you tell us a little bit about your family history that might correspond with the things reported to us today?" she asked, leaning across the table.

"My dad left when I was, I think.. 13. Cheated on my mum and left us all for another woman. My mum, uh, got out of control. She didn't take it well," you replied, not looking up once as your gaze was fixed on the chestnut-stained, chipped table.

"I see. Well, from the contents of the rubbish bin, I presume her coping had something to do with alcohol," the woman said. As if her apathy hadn't been obvious from the start, it was dripping off her every word and showing her true intents; not to help you, but to get this over and done with and throw your siblings into foster care, then consider her job done and get paid for it.

You nodded at her claim nonetheless, picking at the paint of the table. "Yeah."

"Have you or your siblings ever been subject to abuse, from either of your parents?" she continued

"No no, absolutely not, they never hit–"

"I'm not just talking about physical abuse, (Y/N)," she interrupted. It was the first time of the entire questioning you had looked up as you met her gaze, your eyes saying more than your mouth ever could.

"It was just a few arguments,” you responded coldly.

“When we asked Margalida, your neighbour, about if there’s been any incidents like this, she said there has been. Yelling, screaming, and lots of it,” the woman told you. “How many arguments are you considering a few, (Y/N)?”

The table shook from the impact of your hand slamming it sharply as you shot to your feet. "If you consider a couple arguments to be verbal abuse, go ahead. My mum is hurt and angry, very angry about her husband leaving her, so yeah, she drinks and we argue about it!"

"Listen, please sit down. I understand that you and your siblings are troubled children but–"

"I hate being a– I hate that term, 'troubled kid', you know? We aren't troubled! If we were troubled, wouldn't we be dead? Wouldn't we be troubled by an inability to continue living in these conditions, these... ruins?"

Silence. You sat down once again, your head in your hands.

"Do you have another location you can stay at?" she asked you. You shook your head, the feeling of dread burying itself deeper in your gut.

"Unfortunately, we will have to place your siblings in foster care. The living conditions are unsafe and unstable for kids their age to be living in," the social worker finished.

You wanted to burst into tears. You wanted to sob and sob and sob, harder than you ever have, but the tears wouldn't summon.

"There is another option," she spoke slowly, making you immediately look up from the darkness your palms shrouded you in.

"...we contact your father and see if he wants to look after them."

It sounded just as bad as placing them into foster care. Now, you wanted to scream in her face and call her utterly stupid for assuming that a man who abandoned his kids would want to take care of them years later to keep them out of the foster system. Why on God's green earth would he want to reap the consequences of his infidelity?

"Are you hard of hearing?" you scoffed. "Yeah, so, I said earlier that he left us years ago for another woman, you know, to make another family. He didn't want us."

"He's the only other option at the moment. Unless your mother can be moved to a rehabilitation center in sufficient enough time, and you become their legal guardians, they will end up with foster families. Possibly not even the same one."

The news weighed on you like bricks. It was all so much, you couldn't think straight and contemplate possible outcomes and solutions. You put your elbows on your table and held your head in your hands once again, taking a deep breath.

"Can I at least find someone myself who's willing to foster? Someone I know?" you asked, your tone being nothing short of desperate.

She took a moment to respond, and it was probably the most nerve-wracking few seconds of your life, until the ultimatum was spoken.

"I suppose, yes. That is basically the whole principle of fostering, so I see no issue. Until then, they will be placed in a temporary home before we start looking for a permanent family. A pair of officers have gone to detain your mother and we'll review the information from this questioning to determine whether she should be charged or put straight into a rehabilitation program."

"Thank you," you almost cried, your body relaxing from the little bit of relief and reassurance you had just received. There was still a possibility that you could get your siblings back.

The problem standing in your way now was, you didn't know anyone willing to foster. You had no idea who you'd turn to, and it actually made you realise that you were pretty alone in this whole ordeal, and life in general. You really did have nobody but yourself, and clearly there came a time where that wouldn't be enough.

"Magda, Dani, Enzo, come on. We're going now," you said as the door of the interrogation room swung open. You beckoned at the kids, who stood up and ran to you, following you out of the door.

You didn't want to go home yet, just in case the officers were still there and you'd arrive to the horrible scene of your drunkard mother getting dragged of her own house by the authorities, so you drove to the training pitch. You were in search of one person in particular, and hoping to avoid another one.

Parking the car in the same spot you had parked in the same morning, you quickly got out of the car and ushered the kids onto the pitch to play for a little bit while you went into the gym.

As soon as you walked through the automatic glass doors, the person you were searching for was stretching on a yoga mat, her resistance bands discarded above her head.

She sat up, looking at you with a mixture of surprise, confusion and concern, probably achieved from your sorrowful expression.

"Vicky, I need your help. Now."

#fc barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #fcb femení #woso #woso community #woso angst #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #fcb femení x reader #fc barcelona x reader #futfem #ad astra per aspera

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auggieblogs · 1 year ago

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At least I'm getting kisses | LN4

Lando Norris x Reader Author's note: Hiii, everyone. I hope you all are having a good day/night. This one-shot is inspired by this request. I was giggling the entire time I was writing this, I really hope I did justice to the anon (I'm sorry, I know it's not very long😭). Also, I do believe Lando is the type of boyfriend who would sit on your lap thank you very much. Anyway, hope you all like this. Happy reading:)

P.S.- The gif is not actually related to the fic, I just find it very very cute so yeah!!!

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

The soft hum of the grocery bags being set on the kitchen counter signalled Lando's return from the store. You seized the opportunity, carefully arranging yourself on the couch, your glasses still perched on your nose, and a book loosely held in your hands. You snuggled into the cushions, ready for the TikTok prank you were about to pull on your unsuspecting boyfriend.

As Lando entered the living room, his eyes fell upon you, and a warm smile played on his lips. He tiptoed closer, convinced that you had dozed off in the midst of reading. He observed you for a moment, noting the way your eyelashes delicately brushed against your cheeks, the way your fingers cradled the book. His heart swelled with affection as he silently went about making you more comfortable.

With a tender touch, he gathered your favourite blanket and arranged a couple of plush pillows under your head. From a nearby drawer, he retrieved a pair of warm socks, sliding them onto your feet with meticulous care.

Gently, he reached for your glasses, careful not to disturb your supposed sleep. As the frames left your face, Lando couldn't resist pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his lips lingered as he covered you with the blanket.

Little did he know, your phone was capturing every heartfelt gesture, every sweet caress. Just as he pressed that loving kiss, your eyes fluttered open, revealing a wide smile that caught Lando off guard.

You tugged him down onto the couch beside you, and he settled on your lap, eyebrows raised in surprise but a warm grin on his face.

"I thought you were asleep, love," he remarked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You couldn't contain your laughter, "You're so sweet, Lan. I love you so much."

With a puzzled expression, he asked, "What's going on, then?"

You explained the TikTok prank, and Lando's eyes widened in realization. "Ah, caught me all lovey-dovey, huh?" he teased, his fingers gently pushing your hair out of the way.

Your laughter filled the room as you replied, "Caught you being the sweetest boyfriend ever." Followed a series of gentle kisses, peppering his face with affection.

"At least I'm getting kisses," he laughed, his arms wrapping around you. "And I love you more."

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23victoria · 5 months ago

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Father’s Day!!

f1 grid x reader

warnings: just fluff

authors note: today is Father’s Day so want to do something with the grid!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Max

It's Father's Day, and you're determined to make it special for Max. The morning sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains as you gently wake up your little one, Oliver. You both tiptoe down the hall to the kitchen, where you've prepared a simple but heartfelt breakfast: Max's favorite pancakes, fresh fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee.

Oliver insists on carrying the tray, wobbling slightly but managing to keep everything balanced. You lead the way, quietly pushing open the bedroom door. Max is still asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. Oliver climbs onto the bed, and you can't help but smile as he places a messy kiss on Max's cheek.

"Daddy, wake up! Happy Father's Day!" Oliver's excitement is infectious, and Max stirs, a smile spreading across his face as he opens his eyes.

"Good morning, my babies," Max says, pulling Oliver into a hug and then reaching for you. "This is the best way to wake up."

After breakfast, you all head to the living room, where Oliver presents Max with a hand-painted picture. It's a portrait of your family, with a rainbow in the background and everyone holding hands. Max's eyes mist over as he looks at the painting, his heart swelling with love and pride.

"This is amazing, Oliver. Thank you so much," he says, kissing the top of his son's head. "And thank you, love, for making today so special."

The rest of the day is filled with laughter and joy. You all head to the park, where Max and Oliver play soccer while you watch, capturing every moment on your phone. In the afternoon, you return home for a barbecue, with Oliver helping to flip burgers and Max manning the grill.

As the sun sets, you all snuggle up on the couch to watch Max's favorite movie. Oliver falls asleep in Max's arms, and you rest your head on Max's shoulder, feeling content and happy.

"I couldn't have asked for a better Father's Day," Max whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you both so much."

Lewis

Father's Day morning comes gently, the sun's rays filtering through the curtains as you and your daughter, Amara, lie in bed, savoring the rare opportunity to sleep in. Last night had been a marathon movie night, with the three of you snuggled on the couch, laughing and enjoying each other's company until the wee hours. As the morning progresses, you and Amara tiptoe out of the bedroom, leaving Lewis to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

In the kitchen, you and Amara prepare a light and easy vegan lunch. The menu includes a vibrant quinoa salad with roasted vegetables, a fresh avocado and tomato sandwich, and a chilled fruit smoothie. Amara is excited, and you guide her hands as she slices veggies and blends the smoothie.

As the meal comes together, you set a tray with the food and a small vase holding a single flower that Amara picked from the garden. Together, you quietly walk back to the bedroom, the tray balanced carefully in your hands. Amara climbs onto the bed first, gently shaking Lewis's shoulder.

"Daddy, wake up! We've got a surprise for you!" she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Lewis stirs, opening his eyes to see Amara’s bright smile and your loving gaze. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, and grins as he sees the tray.

"Good morning, my beautiful girls," he says, pulling Amara into a hug and giving you a warm kiss. "This is an amazing way to wake up."

After savoring the delicious lunch, you and Amara present Lewis with his special gift. Amara hands him a small, wrapped box, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Lewis opens it to find a handcrafted bracelet, ring, and necklace, each piece intricately designed with tiny charms and beads that the two of you had spent weeks working on together.

"Wow, Amara, these are incredible," Lewis says, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. And thank you, love, for helping her. These are truly special."

Amara beams with pride as Lewis puts on the bracelet and necklace, sliding the ring onto his finger. The rest of the day is spent in relaxed joy. You all lounge around the house, playing board games and sharing stories. In the afternoon, you take a walk in the park, where Lewis and Amara race each other along the path, their laughter echoing through the trees.

As evening falls, you all return home and cuddle up on the couch once more, this time to watch the sunset through the living room window. Amara eventually falls asleep in Lewis's arms, and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

"This has been the perfect Father's Day," Lewis whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you both so much. Thank you for making today unforgettable."

Charles

Father's Day morning begins with the sun gently illuminating your bedroom. You and your son, Lucas, had stayed up late the night before, giggling and making final preparations for Charles's special day. After catching a bit of extra sleep, you both decide to let Charles rest while you head to the kitchen to prepare his favorite breakfast: croissants, fresh fruit, and a strong espresso.

Lucas, eager to help, assists in arranging the food on a tray. You add a small vase with a single rose, a simple yet thoughtful touch. Together, you carry the tray to the bedroom, where Charles is still in a peaceful slumber. Lucas carefully climbs onto the bed, placing a soft kiss on his father's cheek.

"Happy Father's Day, Papa!" Lucas exclaims, his voice filled with excitement.

Charles stirs, opening his eyes to see Lucas's beaming face and your loving smile. He sits up, reaching out to pull Lucas into a warm hug and giving you a tender kiss.

"Good morning, my loves," Charles says, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "This is the best way to wake up."

After enjoying the delicious breakfast, Lucas announces that he has another surprise for Charles. He dashes out of the room and returns with a beautifully wrapped gift. Charles's curiosity is piqued as he carefully unwraps the present.

Inside, he finds a custom-made photo album. Each page is filled with pictures of the most cherished moments you've shared as a family: vacations, birthdays, holidays, and candid snapshots of everyday life. Lucas had painstakingly decorated the pages with stickers, drawings, and little notes, each one a testament to his love and creativity.

Charles's eyes well up with tears as he flips through the pages, reliving the memories. "Lucas, this is amazing. Thank you so much, my little artist. And thank you, love, for helping him put this together. It's perfect."

Lucas beams with pride, and you wrap your arms around both of them, feeling a wave of love and happiness. The rest of the day is filled with joyful activities. You take a family trip to the zoo, where Charles and Lucas marvel at the animals and share ice cream cones. In the afternoon, you return home for a barbecue, with Lucas eagerly helping to flip the burgers while Charles mans the grill.

As the sun sets, you all snuggle up on the couch to watch Charles's favorite movie. Lucas falls asleep in Charles's arms, and you rest your head on Charles's shoulder, feeling content and happy.

"I couldn't have asked for a better Father's Day," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you both so much."

Carlos

It's Father's Day, and you and your daughter, Sofia, have been planning a special surprise for Carlos for weeks. The morning starts with you both sneaking into the kitchen to prepare Carlos's favorite Spanish breakfast: churros with hot chocolate.

Sofia climbs onto the bed and places a kiss on Carlos's cheek. "Happy Father's Day, Papa!" she exclaims, her excitement waking Carlos with a start. He blinks a few times before his eyes focus on the two of you.

"Good morning, mi princesa," he says, pulling Sofia into a hug and reaching out to you. "This is the best surprise."

Sofia announces she has another surprise for her papa. Sofia dashes out of the room, returning with a large, colorfully wrapped box. Carlos, his curiosity piqued, smiles as he accepts the gift from his beaming daughter.

"Open it, Papa! I made it just for you!" Sofia exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement.

Carlos carefully unwraps the gift, revealing a beautifully handcrafted model of his race car. The model is made from wood, meticulously painted in his team's colors, with fine details that capture the essence of his real car. Sofia had spent weeks working on it, sanding and painting each piece with your help.

Carlos’s eyes widen in amazement as he examines the intricate model. "Sofia, this is incredible! You made this all by yourself?"

Sofia nods eagerly. "Well, Mommy helped a little, but I did most of it. Do you like it?"

"I love it," Carlos says, his voice filled with emotion. He pulls Sofia into a tight hug. "This is one of the best gifts I've ever received. Thank you, my little artist."

The rest of the day is spent in high spirits. You all head out to the park for a fun-filled day of activities. Carlos and Sofia race their remote-controlled cars, laughing and cheering as they navigate through makeshift tracks. Later, you enjoy a picnic under the shade of a large oak tree, savoring the simple pleasures of being together.

You rest your head on Carlos's shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Carlos looks at you with love and gratitude in his eyes.

"This has been the perfect Father's Day," he whispers, kissing your forehead. "Thank you for making it so special. I love you both so much."

Lando

Father's Day morning starts with you and your son, Theo, preparing a fun and easy breakfast for Lando: banana pancakes with maple syrup and a side of fresh berries. After breakfast in bed, Theo excitedly announces he has a special surprise for Lando.

Theo runs out of the room and returns with a small, neatly wrapped box. Lando's eyes light up as he takes the gift from Theo's eager hands.

"Daddy, open it! I made it just for you! But mommy help me as well!!" Theo exclaims, his excitement palpable.

Lando carefully unwraps the gift to reveal a handmade keychain. The keychain is crafted from colorful beads and charms, spelling out "Best Dad" along with tiny race car and helmet charms. Theo had put his heart into making it, with your help guiding his little hands.

"This is awesome, Theo! I love it," Lando says, his voice full of warmth. He pulls Theo into a hug. "Thank you, buddy. I'll keep this with me always."

The rest of the day is filled with activities at Lando's favorite amusement park, where he and Theo ride all the roller coasters and enjoy the day to its fullest. Back home, you all enjoy a cozy movie night, snuggled up together, cherishing every moment.

Oscar

Father's Day morning begins with you and your daughter, Ava, preparing a simple but delicious brunch for Oscar: an egg omelette with spinach bell peppers onions and bacon with waffles and some turkey sandwiches cut into half’s with a fresh fruit smoothie. After the brunch, Ava eagerly announces her special surprise for her daddy.

Ava rushes out of the room and returns with a beautifully decorated scrapbook. Oscar's curiosity is piqued as he accepts the gift from his daughter’s proud hands.

"Daddy, we made this for you!" Ava says, her eyes sparkling.

Oscar opens the scrapbook to find it filled with drawings, photos, and little notes. Each page captures special moments they've shared: trips to the beach, family game nights, and candid snapshots of daily life. Ava had worked tirelessly on it, with your help organizing the pages.

"This is amazing, Ava. I love it," Oscar says, his voice filled with emotion. He pulls Ava into a hug. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. This is a treasure."

The day continues with a visit to a botanical garden, where Oscar and Ava explore the vibrant plants and flowers and even go into the butterfly garden. After that you guys go to a nice restaurant for dinner and go home ending the day with a lots of cuddles.

Sebastian

Father's Day starts with you and your son, Max, preparing a nice breakfast for him: honey and cinnamon pancakes with eggs, turkey bacon and fresh fruit. After enjoying the meal in together, Max reveals his special surprise for his papa.

Max runs to his room and returns with a large, carefully wrapped package. Seb's eyes twinkle with anticipation as he accepts the gift from Max’s excited hands.

"Papa, open it! I made it for you!" Max exclaims, his excitement evident.

Sebastian unwraps the package to reveal a handmade birdhouse. The birdhouse is painted in bright colors and adorned with tiny flowers and leaves. Max had spent countless afternoons working on it, with your guidance and support.

"This is wonderful, Max! I love it," Sebastian says, his voice brimming with pride. He pulls Max into a warm hug. "Thank you, my little craftsman. We'll put this in the garden together."

The rest of the day is spent outdoors, visiting a local farm and feeding the animals. Back home, they set up the birdhouse in the garden, watching for birds to come. The day concludes with a cozy evening watching The Incredibles 2, Max falling asleep in Seb's arms.

Jenson Button

Father's Day morning begins with the sun shining through the curtains and the soft sound of paws padding around the house. You and your two kids, Lily and Jake, are up early, ready to surprise Jenson with a day filled with love, laughter, and a few surprises from the whole family, including the dogs.

First, you all head to the kitchen to prepare a hearty English breakfast: baked beans, toast, and a selection of fresh fruits. The dogs, Storm, Rogue and Bentley, are excitedly wagging their tails, sensing the fun to come. You prepare a special dog-friendly treat for them to deliver to Jenson as well.

Once breakfast is ready, you and the kids carry the trays up to the bedroom, with Storm, Rogue and Bentley following closely, each with a small, wrapped gift tied to their collars. Lily and Jake eagerly climb onto the bed, placing kisses on Jenson's cheeks to wake him up.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" they exclaim in unison.

Jenson groggily opens his eyes, a smile spreading across his face as he sees his excited kids and the delicious breakfast laid out before him. "Good morning, my little loves. This is the best wake-up call."

As he sits up, Storm, Rogue and Bentley jump onto the bed, tails wagging furiously. Jenson laughs as he notices the gifts tied to their collars.

"Looks like even the dogs have something for you, Daddy!" Jake says, grinning.

Jenson unties the first gift from Storm collar. Inside, he finds a personalized mug with "World's Best Dad" written on it and a picture of Jenson with Storm, Rogue and Bentley. "This is fantastic! Thank you, Storm," he says, patting the dog's head.

Next, he opens the gift from Rogue collar. It's a new set of golf balls with "Best Dad" engraved on each one. "Wow, Rogue, you know me so well," Jenson laughs, scratching Rogue behind the ears.

Jenson unties a gift from Bentley's collar. Inside, he finds sunglasses with "JB" engraved on it. Jenson smiles and gives Bentley a big hug. "Thank you, Bentley. This is so nice."

"Now for our gifts!" Lily says, handing Jenson a brightly wrapped package. Inside, Jenson finds a handmade photo frame decorated with seashells, featuring a picture of the whole family from their last beach vacation.

"This is beautiful, Lily. Thank you so much," Jenson says, giving her a big hug.

Jake hands over his gift next, a Lego set to build The Millennium Falcon. "We can build it together, Dad!" Jake says, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Awesome, Jake. I can't wait to get started on this," Jenson says, pulling Jake into a hug.

The rest of the day is filled with fun and adventure. You all head to the nearby park with the dogs, where Jenson and the kids play catch, run around, and even try their hands at flying a kite. Roscoe and Coco have the time of their lives chasing after the frisbee and each other.

In the afternoon, you return home to make a special dinner together. You gather in the kitchen, setting up a pizza-making station with various ingredients. Each of you gets a dough base to create your own unique pizza.

Lily goes for a classic margherita with lots of cheese, Jake opts for a pepperoni and olive combo, Jenson decides on a prosciutto and arugula pizza, and you make a buffalo chicken masterpiece. Storm, Rogue and Bentley are given their own special dog-friendly pizzas, which they eagerly gobble up.

As the pizzas bake, the kitchen fills with delicious aromas. You all sit around the table, enjoying your creations and sharing stories. The evening is filled with laughter, as you recount the day's adventures and enjoy the warmth of being together as a family.

After dinner, you all snuggle up on the couch with the dogs, watching one of Jenson's favorite movies. Lily and Jake eventually fall asleep, and Roscoe and Coco curl up at their feet. You lean against Jenson, feeling content and happy.

"This has been the perfect Father's Day," Jenson whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you all so much. Thank you for making today unforgettable."

Daniel

Father's Day morning begins with a mischievous plan you and your son, Jack, concoct to wake Daniel up in a way he'll never forget. The two of you tiptoe around the house, preparing for the grand surprise. You and Jack decide that a good old-fashioned prank will be the perfect way to start the day.

You both set up downstairs, positioning yourselves in the kitchen with a delicious vegan lunch waiting to be served. On the count of three, you and Jack begin to scream and shout, creating a cacophony of pretend chaos.

"Dad! Help! There's a huge mess!" you yell, adding to the commotion.

From upstairs, you hear the sound of Daniel springing out of bed and rushing down the stairs. He bursts into the kitchen, his hair tousled and eyes wide with concern.

"What's going on? Is everyone okay?" Daniel exclaims, looking around frantically.

You and Jack burst into laughter, unable to keep up the act any longer. Daniel's confusion quickly turns to a smile as he realizes he's been pranked.

"Happy Father's Day!" you both shout, grinning widely.

Daniel shakes his head, chuckling. "You got me good! Whose idea was this?"

You and Jack exchange glances and remain silent, trying to stifle your laughter. Daniel raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh, so you're not going to tell me, huh?" he says, moving towards you both with a mischievous grin. "Well, I guess I'll have to get the truth out another way."

With that, Daniel starts chasing you around the house. Jack squeals and runs, but Daniel quickly catches him, lifting him up and starting to tickle him mercilessly.

"No, Mom! Save me from the tickle monster!" Jack cries out between fits of laughter.

You stand back, laughing as you watch the two of them. Daniel’s infectious laughter fills the room as Jack squirms and giggles uncontrollably.

"Alright, alright! I surrender!" Jack finally manages to say, still giggling as Daniel relents.

As things settle down, you guide Daniel to the dining table where the surprise lunch is laid out: a colorful spread of avocado toast, quinoa salad, and fresh fruit smoothies.

"Happy Father's Day, love," you say, kissing Daniel on the cheek. "We thought you deserved a fun wake-up call."

Daniel smiles, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in for a hug. "You two are the best. This is perfect."

The rest of the day is filled with laughter and love. You spend the afternoon playing games in the garden, enjoying the beautiful weather and each other's company. In the evening, you all snuggle up on the couch for a cozy movie night, feeling grateful for the special moments shared together.

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buckysegan · 8 months ago

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We've been waiting for you, John Egan

summary: there's more waiting for john when he gets back from stalag luft iii. john egan x she. word count: 2.1K a/n: something in me felt a little feral tonight and this was needed. a little curvy fmc mention but nothing too much. i just love john egan and would give him all my babies i guess??? again we're rolling with some historical inaccuracies. a continuation from here

it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that was how long it had been since she had seen major john egan. that long since she had slept a whole nights sleep without worrying. that long since she'd known what i was like to be really settled. she tried not to think about it, how much time had passed and how hope seemed to get a little bit worse with each passing day. but it was so hard when she had such obvious proof of just how much john was missing whilst he was away.

she hadn't even realised at first, what the signs were. she had been so consumed in work with more pilots to care for in the hospital than ever before she had barely noticed that she was tired. the nausea was just a sure sign of how much she was missing john. she was confident of it. despite her not eating, the swell of her already generous hips was inconsequential compared to the rest of her worries so she barely paid attention to any of it.

it was douglass, sweet douglass that made the first joke about how if he didn't know better with how often he'd seen her run away to throw up he'd assumed she was pregnant. after that it hadn't taken long for the room to fall silent and for everyone to slowly do some of their own math. the other nurses has scooped her up, rushed her away to the infirmary and sat with her as she did her own calculations on what had happened. three months since she had last bled. dear god.

she should have been sent home. everyone around her knew that was likely when her bump started to show under her uniform and she was ready too, to be sent home and discharged, but the hundredth had always been an unruly bunch and it was almost as if no one could bare to send her away just in case. what would egan do if he got back and they weren't here? no one asked her, who the father might have been, everyone knew without anyone having to utter the words, hardin pulled plenty of strings to keep her around for his boys.

weeks of knowing, turned into months and each of the men around her stepped up in place of their friend. blakely rubbed at her shoulders when she looked a little tired. crosby was around day or night to fetch anything she might have needed. rosie tossed out baby names for girls and boys alike, offering sincere ones and ones that he knew would make her laugh. jack left the traded jacket for her on her bed and no one said a damn thing when she wore it around base. each of them did their best but when she laid on her bunk at night, hands cradling her bump it didn't take away the longing for her major.

those quiet times were when she let herself imagine what it would be like if all of this was happening at different times. how much larger johns rough hands would look splayed across her stretched stomach. just how good he would be at building things ready for the baby and preparing for their impending arrival. the soft spoken words that would have been offered in encouragement through her doubt.

it was two hundred and eighty two days since she had seen john, when the screams of a baby boy filled out a hospital wing and cheers of the hundred went up at the sound. a new soul welcomed into the world and surrounded with so much love despite the fact his dad was stuck somewhere out there.

jokes were passed around at the spirit of baby egan and the hope that he offered for the men. every time the men went up, there he was in the tower reminding them what they were all fighting to come back for. what good in the world still made it all worth while. as cheesy as she had always found it, she knew that the saying it took a village to raise a child had never been truer than it was here in thorpe abbotts.

gale cried when he saw them for the first time. the woman he knew his best friend had been fighting for and the bundle of brown curls in her arms. guilt flooding him that john had allowed him to escape when he had this to return home too. a family. a pair of matching blue and a smile that warmed his heart waiting for him to make it back. he told her as much, that he was sorry and it should have been bucky that made it home and she was quick to remind him that, john egan, wouldn't be the man either of them loved if he had ever left buck behind.

the days seemed to be longer now gale had made it home and she was still waiting on her bucky. each laugh her son offered and mile stone he hit causing a contradiction of emotions in her. joy that she got to witness it all and devastation john was missing it all.

it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that's how long she had been counting when blakely flew into the hospital, douglass and crosby on his tail. "john's home." the two words alone were enough to make her knees buckle as she looked back at the trio, who were all seemingly holding their breaths as they waited for her to respond. she would have cried, with joy, with relief, with the overwhelming sense of emotion that flooded through her. she was going to cry, she was sure of it but right now she needed to see john and she needed to make some introductions. with gale still away on relief mission, everyone knew who john would be asking for first.

bucky could feel something was wrong the second he landed. people had been happy to see him for sure, but there was a buzz around the boys. they were all looking at each other, over him, like they were all sharing a secret he couldn't be privy to right now. it was driving him crazy and that was saying something.

"buck alright?" he found himself asking because if anyone liked to tiptoe around him, it was usually around his best friend but everyone seemed to jovial for that to be the case. even kenny was here with that god damn stupid grin on his face that the rest of them seemed to be wearing. what was he missing?

"yea bucks fine, he's flying today but nothing to worry about, just dropping supplies, we just thought there might be someone else you wanted to see." blakely offered with a nod of his head, and john was sure his face was a continued picture of confusion as he watched the men part like some sort of celebrity was on base but his frown quickly vanished as he saw her. the last time he had seen her this clearly she had kissed him goodbye before they had dragged themselves away from each other.

"we've been waiting for you, john egan." god her voice was even sweeter then he remembered but it was the we in her statement that drew his attention to the small bundle in her arms. a baby. a boy by the looks of it and he felt his stomach drop. she had moved on, of course she had. without him around he wasn't surprised that someone else had scooped her up. he moved to look at each of his men, trying to find which one looked guilty but he was met with more excitement, a little confusion even, what were they surprised he was heart broken she hadn't waited for him.

"you going to stand there all day or are you going to come meet him?" she asked, voice soft as she raised a hand to him and bucky moved towards her without much of a thought because no one seemed ready to stop him and his fingers linked with hers as soon as they were in reach. "you had a baby." john smiled down at her softly, eyes full of wonder as he looked at the small version of herself that she had created.

" i sure did." she nodded with a smile the men hadn't seen in months, the one reserved just for bucky. "i'd like you to meet thomas gale egan." time stood still for a moment then, john was sure of it as he looked between her and the baby she was holding, his blue eyes taking in each feature of the infant before him. their eyes matched he realised after a moment, the dark curls on his head were the wrong shade to be hers, they were his. she was holding his son. "baby...you had my baby?" he asked, as if he needed some sort of further confirmation of what his eyes at told him.

"mhumm, i told you, we've been waiting for you, do you want to hold him?" she offered, her face a mirror of the men around them, all smiles and joy and as john took tommy in his hands with such care she stopped trying to fight the tears that had been ready to spill since she'd heard he was home. with tears rolling down his own cheeks john took in the baby that watched him with what he hoped was quiet wonder, he had a whole baby boy that he had never known about and he was perfect. "thomas gale egan, it sure is good to meet you." reaching a spare arm around her bucky pulled his girl close to his side, unable to move his gaze from his son.

"alright any of you clowns going to tell me what else i missed whilst i was gone?"

he had been sure that he would sleep for hours when he returned to base. that his body would crash and that he would need time to recover but he had never felt more wired than he did as he stretched out in bed. it had taken john far to long to shake the rest of the boys, listening to stories of how each of them had helped his girl at some point. stories of all tommy's firsts since he had been born, the photos they'd managed to get all offered to john so he could piece together the time he had missed.

he'd stepped away from them only to check on gale when he had landed who had offered him the biggest grin and wondered if he had met his name sake yet, john still unable to believe she had named their boy so well.

nothing about his should have surprised him though, she was perfect, she had been before he had gone and now as he watched her tucked into his side sleeping softly like her own body could finally rest. tommy was spread across his chest, warm skin to skin, sound sleep on him with his little mouth wide opened as he showed no sign of being anything other that utterly content as he slept on his dad, one of john's hand spread across his tiny back taking up the whole space but to afraid to let him or his mom go as if either of them might vanish on him.

feeling her stir a little in his arms john pulled his gaze from tommy for a second to meet sleepy eyes, his chest flooding with more love for her than he had ever thought possible when he'd had to leave her a life time ago now. "you struggling to sleep?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep as she checked on tommy for a second before her eyes met john's once more. "i'm scared i'm still in that camp and neither of you are real." his confession was quiet as he offered it and with a soft hum, she pushed gently, pressing her lips to his. "sleep daddy, we will both be here in the morning."

"i just want to watch him a little longer." john offered quietly, tucking her back into his arm so she could sleep once more. if he never slept again it wouldn't be a shock to him. how he was ever meant to stop looking at this? well bucky just didn't know. "thanks for waiting for me, baby." he offered, to her sleeping form, lips pressing a kiss to the top of her own curls. he'd been waiting for them too, he'd just not known how to dare dream of it, till they were here in his arms.

#john egan #john egan x reader #mota drabble #callum turner #mota fanfic #im seriously in my own feels rn #bucky egan

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cozage · 8 months ago

Note

Gm!! I saw your inbox was open!! I was hoping to request something with Sanji, Ace n Franky with a selective mute (gender neutral) reader talking to them through their voice for the first time to confess? 👉👈

(Btw I wanted to let you know that your writing has such a grip on my heart, I must have re-read your Sleepy Afternoon hcs at least a hundred times 🥺🫶 and i hope you have a wonderful day!)

So sorry I didn't get a new chapter out today...the holidays kept me busy! Enjoy these sweet short stories instead <3 Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Ace, Franky Cw: none :) Total word count: 1600

First Words

Sanji

Ever since you joined the crew, you had found yourself gravitating toward the kitchen.

Being with Sanji was easy. He never pestered you with questions or asked you to speak. If he did ask questions, they were always non-invasive, yes-or-no questions that you could answer with a shake of your head.

You realized you had feelings for him when he came into the kitchen one morning, dark shadows under his eyes. And before he began cooking, he signed good morning to you. You had signed back the same phrase before you realized that he had signed, not spoken.

He beamed with pride as your eyes widened in shock.

“You learned how to sign?” you signed quickly.

He focused intensely as he watched the way your hands moved, and then slowly nodded.

“I stayed up all night trying to learn the basics. I figured it’s lonely up there in your head.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger for effect. “I’m not very good yet, but I’ll try my best to follow you if you ever feel like communicating.”

You gave a soft nod, the thought making your eyes shine. Even just the effort of knowing good morning made your heart swell.

As the days went on, Sanji got better at sign language. So much better that he indirectly became your translator for the rest of the crew if you ever felt like adding to the conversation. He came to your defense whenever Luffy begged you to speak, and helped make sure your voice was heard without ever judging you.

As the two of you were sitting out on the deck one night under the stars, you decided you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You had to tell him.

“I have to tell you something,” you signed.

Sanji stood up a little straighter, looking at you with slight concern. “What is it, my love?”

“I think-” you paused your signing. Saying the words with your hands didn’t seem right. You trusted Sanji with everything. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to say it. Out loud.

“I think-” you whispered softly, your voice raw from time unused. But you grew more confident when you spoke again. “I think I might just be in love with you, Sanji.”

You could see him struggling to understand your words; the fact that you had spoken was enough to send him into shock.

And then he leaned in and kissed you.

You melted under his touch. Your body craved the feeling of his skin as he held your face against his.

“I love you too, my dear,” he whispered back. “And my name on your lips is sweeter than anything I could ever cook up.”

Ace

Ace didn’t mind that you didn’t speak a lot. Or speak at all. He did enough talking for the both of you.

Still, you liked being around him. At meals, you often found yourself sitting next to him. At parties, he was often at your door, dragging you out onto the deck to have a few beers with everyone.

You liked how he could bring people together. He was always the life of the party anywhere you went. You enjoyed his warmth, both through his devil fruit ability and personality.

You often found yourself staring at him, admiring everything about him. You knew every other person on the ship was doing the same thing. So even when his eyes locked onto yours and the two of you had silent conversations, you did your best to ignore that ache in your chest. He was loved by everyone. You weren’t special.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Ace said, taking a seat next to you on the deck. “I know you didn’t want to, and I know these parties can be overwhelming. So thanks for coming for me.”

You shook your head slightly, smiling softly. It’s no big deal.

“It is a big deal! You-” the rest of his sentence was cut off by a few of your crewmates screaming at each other and everyone cheering loudly.

“Come on,” Ace mumbled, rising to his feet and holding out his hand for you. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I can’t hear myself think here.”

You smiled and nodded, taking his hand. It was loud and overwhelming. You were here for Ace, to celebrate him being promoted. But that didn’t mean you liked being around crowds or rowdiness.

There was only one place that was quiet on a night like tonight: the crow’s nest. So the two of you quietly snuck up the ladder and hid away from everyone. A moment of quiet amongst the sea of noise.

“It's so peaceful up here,” Ace said softly. “I love it up here.”

You hummed in agreement. “I love you.”

Both of you froze. You hadn’t even been thinking about a confession. It had come out entirely on its own.

You could feel Ace’s sharp gaze on you. “What?”

You cleared your throat, ignoring the heat on your face. “The view. I love the view.”

“You’re speaking.”

You finally looked at him, your voice rough. “I speak sometimes.”

“Never to me!” Ace ran his hand through his hair and took a long drink from the bottle in his hand. “You’ve never spoken to me!”

“I-” you stopped. You hadn’t spoken much since you had joined the crew. Only to Pops, really. And only whenever you were asked a direct question. Ace had probably never heard your voice. “I thought you had. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Ace said, laughing. “I just want to hear more of it! Tell me a story! Your voice is- is like-” he struggled for words, and then he smiled as his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

“It is not,” you smiled at his words, though. “You just feel that way because we can breathe up here without smelling our lovely crewmates.”

Ace barked out a laugh. “Stunning and funny. You really are the total package.”

You quieted at that. A true compliment from Ace didn’t happen often, and you could feel the blush creeping its way through your face.

Instead, you laid back and turned your head toward the sky, choosing to watch the stars instead. You were almost asleep when Ace spoke again.

“I love you too, you know.”

Franky

You liked being in the workshop with Franky. Franky never tried to get you to speak. Most of the time it was too loud in there to hold a conversation anyway. The extent of your conversation was him asking you to get a tool for him, and you silently retrieving it.

You weren’t sure it changed into something more, but you began watching him closely as he worked. After a day or two, he began explaining what he was building and all the steps that went into it. It wasn’t long before you were working on the bench next to him.

Some days, Franky was chatty. He talked about his home, his old life, and other projects he had done. Sometimes he asked you simple questions about your past, but he never pried too deep.

That’s what you liked most about Franky. Everything had been on your terms, and Franky had always received your decisions enthusiastically. He always supported you when you wanted to help him build a bench, but he also encouraged you to take rest days when you simply wanted to observe.

Franky was always on your side. No matter what you decided, he was going to agree. He was your biggest fan, always cheering you on.

And as his strong arms wrapped around you, both of you holding the torch to weld two pieces of metal together, you realized the heat on your face wasn’t just from the flame.

Franky pulled his welding helmet up. “So, do you like welding?”

You nodded. “I think I like you more, Franky.”

Franky’s mouth fell open in shock. For once, you had stunned him into silence. Only the hum of the generator buzzed in the air.

The silence made you feel strange, and words began falling out of your mouth in an attempt to fill it.

“You’re so kind and supportive to me and you always help me learn new things. You’ve been so amazing and patient these past few weeks and you’re always so encouraging and…I just…I like you a lot, Franky, and I was just thinking about how I wanted to tell you and then it just…came out.”

Franky was still staring at you, awestruck. “You can speak?”

You covered your face. He was missing the whole point. Maybe he would forget the words you had actually said.

He seemed to remember your words at that exact moment. “Me? You like me?”

A small smile creeped across your face. No backing down now. “Yes, I do.”

“Super!” His words made you laugh. “I’ve liked you for quite some time as well. Just didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Your smile finally widened, full and genuine. “You’re the place I feel most comfortable, Franky.”

He gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for an embrace. “And I will never stop being that for you, I swear it.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji #sanji x y/n #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #cyborg franky #franky x reader #cozage #✧˚sanji✧˚#✧˚ace✧˚#✧˚franky✧˚

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dorotheataylor · 7 months ago

Text

You are in Love

Pairing- Gojo Satoru x fem!Reader

Summary- The three times he realised he loved you, and the one time he said it. Inspired by You are in Love (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift.

Warnings- Its just fluff, a little angst if you squint? SATORU IS WHIPPED (hes so cute😭), best friends to lovers romance, Shoko and Suguru playing cupids, whipped satoru (yes this warning again), swearing (its only one word but still), no curses!au, modern!au, my poor english :p

Word Count- 3.5k words

A/N- Whenever I listen to Taylor, either this guy or his best friend pop up in my head. Like the amount of times I think about them is so insane and I can’t help it anymore. Anyways, here’s another songfic (is this even a surprise atp?) based on another Taylor’s song coz i love that woman so much. Alsoooo it’s my birthday today! And what is better than writing a fic abt your man on your birthday? So I hope y’all enjoy this little birthday gift from me!

The first time Satoru realised he loved you was when you were in college together. It was the last day of the semester before everyone bid farewell to each other and went home for the holiday season. You and him were walking along one pathway coming back from your Christmas shopping, snow falling softly around everyone’s body, and a chill in the air that made everyone want to snuggle up beside the fireplace in their houses.

Suguru and Shoko had joined you both too but then excused themselves to leave you two alone, hoping that the romantic ambiance of the holiday season would finally give Satoru the confidence to tell you how he felt.

To say he was a nervous wreck was an understanding. He had spent the whole afternoon talking to himself in the mirror, practicing what he would say so that he won't stumble on his words and ruin the moment.

He didn't have a problem talking to you as he normally does; you were his best friend after all, like Suguru and Shoko, but once he tries to tell you that you make his heart beat faster, make butterflies flood his stomach, it makes him lose all his senses. Suguru had to drag him out of his room, complaining about waiting for 'thirty fucking minutes' already.

Eventually, he met you and Shoko at the front gate of his house and walked with you towards the mall. The entire day, he felt so jittery, like he couldn’t stay still. You remained oblivious to the fact that Satoru was about ready to burst from the inside from how nervous he was.

Suguru and Shoko, on the other hand, couldn’t contain their laughter. By the time the sky began to fade into the night sky, Suguru and Shoko decided that now was as good of a time than ever and made up an excuse to leave the two of you alone.

Now here you were, walking beside Satoru, bundled up in your white scarf, and the cutest red blush on the tip of your nose. You readjusted your beanie, looking up at him to start conversation. Satoru felt his words get stuck in his throat, unable to remember how to speak with you staring up at him with the twinkle of oblivion in your eye.

"Toru?" you asked bumping your shoulder with him, noticing his uneasy expressions as you wrapped an arm around yourself to get some warmth as the snow had started to fall little more harshly, "am I that boring that your mind had to drift somewhere else?"

"God no." He blushed, finally able to say something without stumbling. Without thought, he wrapped one of his arm around you, bringing you closer to him. You sighed in content, melting into him and Satoru swore his heart swelled three times its size.

The snow crunched under your boots as you walked up the path. The lights lining the cobblestone street gave a yellow tint to the sight. He walked with you in silence but in his head, he was going over exactly what he wanted to say. This was the perfect time.

The snow falling from the sky, little snowflakes tangled in the strands of your hair. You were pressed up against his chest, so close to him that he could smell your perfume, sweet and addicting. There were no other people around, all too eager to find sanctuary in warmth that their houses brought. It was the perfect time.

He stopped walking, halting you with him. He let you go for a moment, taking a deep breath in and slowly let it out. You watched as the cloud of fog escaped his lips and dispersed into the air. His white hair poked out from under his hoodie, matted on his forehead. Satoru looked down at his wet boots, kicking around snow that pooled around the soles.

Finally, he looked up, taking your two hands into his palms in the process.

You smiled at the gesture, your heart fluttering in your chest. You looked at him, offering a comforting look as you raised your eyebrows up in suspicion, “What’s up, Toru?”

And just like that, all of the words he worked so hard to conjure up, slipped right out of his mind. When he saw you looking up at him, eyebrows raised, cheeks and nose tinted with a light shade of pink, and your lips plump and red, he realized that there were no words to describe what it was he felt about you.

You watched him in silence, studying the way he gave you a lopsided smile when you tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. He leaned into your touch, letting out another sigh of relief.

“Nothing,” he finally spoke, letting go of your hands. He wrapped his arm around you again, hoping you won’t hear the marching of his heart in his chest. “You’re my best friend.”

The second time he realised he loved you was when he found you crying on your couch. He had came to check on you when you didn’t come over for the routine movie night. Every Saturday, you, him, Suguru and Shoko got together at each other’s places for movie nights. Laughter, jokes, entertainment, talks, drinks and what not went on full night and the next day all of you were passed out on either couch or the floor.

Today everyone was coming over at Satoru’s place. Suguru and Shoko were already there but when it kept getting late, Satoru became worried about you. Shoko tried assuring him you were okay, just stuck in some work but he wouldn’t believe it. Because you were time punctual and never missed the movie nights.

So he came over to yours and opened your door with the spare key you’d given him only to find you curled up in your couch, crying.

He immediately rushed over to you and wrapped his arms around you tightly as you held onto him. He didn’t say anything but stayed there, holding you, feeling his heart break as you sobbed into his chest.

A few moments later, when he felt you relaxing a little, he took your face in his hands as he asked, “better?”

You just nodded as you snuggled into him. Neither of you two said anything, a comfortable silence, just sitting there on your couch, engulfing each other, enjoying each other’s company.

“Now tell me what happened?” he asked softly when your crying had quieted down, afraid you might break again.

“It’s nothing. I just- its too much. Work, studies, family, everything. I just got too overwhelmed and just couldn’t keep it in anymore. And I had nobody present here for me to tell me that its okay or listen about what I felt.” You said now realising what mess you had made and quite embarrassed that Satoru had to see you this vulnerable. “God this is embarrassing! I’m so sorry.”

“Hey look at me.” He said, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him when you didn’t. “Everyone in this world has a vulnerable side. Everyone on this planet has things which is maybe too much overwhelming for them that they might just break at any point. Just like you did. But don’t ever apologise for this. Because none of it is your fault. Okay? And I’m always here for you. Even if you’re far away, I’ll always be there. You’re not alone, okay?”

You just nodded and gave him the smile he adored so much. And without saying anything else, he wrapped both of his arms around you once again, letting you rest your head on his chest. He kissed your forehead and hummed in content as you snuggled even closer to him if possible.

And as he looked down at the girl in his arms, he realised this is what he wanted for the rest of his life. He loved you.

The third time he realised he loved you was after summer. He hadn’t talked or heard from you since 4 months.

You left without a goodbye or a message to god knows where. He'd tried searching for you but always ended up getting disappointed. Suguru and Shoko missed you too. They had helped him to find you too but to no avail. It was like you’d disappeared into thin air.

Satoru often wondered if you ever thought about him like he did, if you missed him like he did. He knew you were probably out there pursuing your dream career, which you'd always talked about and wanted to do, but a part of him wanted to be there with you. To support and cheer for you at every step you take, to give you advices, to have late night celebration for your achievements. Call him selfish and everything. Everyday that passed, he cursed himself for not telling you how he felt before you left. Would it have made any difference? He’d like to think so. Even if it didn’t, he, at least, wouldn’t have to live every single day thinking: “What if?”

He kept a picture of you in his office. He often looked at it whenever he was free, always wondering how you were doing, if you were okay or not. Suguru and Shoko always found this sight pitful. They had tried to get him to move on, but all of them knew that Satoru was so in love with you and you were special to all three of them and that nobody could ever take your place.

It wasn’t until six months later when you stumbled into the building, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. A part of you knew you didn’t have the right to be there because you left them with no warning. You wouldn’t blame them if they asked you to leave the premises the minute their eyes landed on you. You knew you deserved the cold shoulder. Because if they were the ones who did that to you, you knew you wouldn’t be so forgiving.

The receptionist had told you to wait while she checked if the three of them were free or not. As you waited, you smiled sadly at the memories of last six months. You had gone for higher studies, as your dad had promised, for your dream career. You knew you should’ve at least informed someone before you left but everything happened just so fast that one moment your dad had agreed on your consent and the next moment you were on the plane.

Surely you enjoyed the studies and training period there, Paris being busy in days and nights, but having really nice places to visit. You would always go to the Eiffel tower, watching the sunset, half expecting for Satoru to wrap his arm around your waist but whenever you turned your head you’d always met with empty space. Whenever you came home exhausted, you always expected Satoru to be there with dinner ready and him greeting you with a welcome home kiss.

That’s why you came back. To be in his arms. To be able to kiss him. To be able to call him yours. Because you’d realise that your life was nothing if Gojo Satoru wasn’t in it.

The receptionist told you to go upstairs at floor 5 but as you were about to click the lift button, you heard someone running on the stairs. You turned to look who it was and your eyes locked with a pair of blue ones which were close to home. He just looked at you and slowly stepped towards you as you did the same.

When you were both closer to each other, he brought his hand up, touching your cheeks delicately as if making sure you were real.

Satoru couldn’t believe it. When the receptionist called him and said that someone named Y/N L/N was here to meet him, he left all his works and ran downstairs. And now that he’d seen you, he was mesmerised and shocked. Shocked because you were really here and mesmerised because you looked even more beautiful than before. He touched your cheeks delicately, making sure you were really here and not another one of his hallucinations. And then without another thought he took you into his arms and held you tight and closer to him, now promising himself to never let you go. All the feelings he still had for you, tripled. His heart rumbled in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Even after all this time, he was still so in love with you.

“No need to tell me where you were. Because I already know.” You were tearing up as you finally felt complete in his arms and realised how much you loved him.

“Don’t ever leave me like that again.” He said as he was starting to tear up too. He loved you so much and the thought of being apart once again was killing him.

“I won’t. Ever again. I promise.”

It didn’t take long for Satoru to tell you how he felt after you came back. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Every moment that he didn’t get to call you his, chipped his heart. Both Shoko and Suguru were growing tired of it, encouraging him to just say it because they were sure you felt the same. He tried to ignore them, not wanting to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help but think about how amazing it would feel if you told him you loved him back.

You came over to Satoru’s for dinner that night, Suguru insisted that they all missed you too much to go out to a restaurant. After dinner and catching up with everyone, you and Satoru excused yourselves and walked out in the garden. His hands were in his pockets, unable to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time. He’s been practicing what to say to you since years and yet, he still felt unprepared.

You were walking silently beside him, taking in the silence and calmness of the life you’re living now. You no longer had to worry about anything, just the day to day necessities, and your feelings for Satoru. Subconsciously, you intertwined your fingers with his snuggling up to his side for some warmth.

He froze for a moment. This is it, he thought, this is the perfect moment. So before he lost his confidence, he spoke, “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes, Toru?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. “What is it?”

There it was. He missed it. He missed the way you called him ‘Toru’. And now finally hearing it from you made his heart skip many beats.

He held you in your place, stopping in the middle of a field of flowers. The moon illuminated one side of your face, showing off your perfect features. Satoru smiled, reaching over to caress your cheekbone. With tears in his eyes, he said, “I love you.”

You gasped softly, looking up at him, “What?”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Satoru sighed, connecting his forehead with yours. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breathy laugh, “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

You slowly brought your hand to his face and cupped his cheek as he melted in your touch. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I was afraid of what you'd say. I didn't want to ruin our friendship and lose you. I just thought that maybe if you didn't love me like that, I'd still have you. Even if it's just as your best friend."

"Then why now?" you asked, you voice getting even quieter. He kissed the palm of your hand as he met your eyes.

"Because after all those years of crushing on you, all those months of not being able to see you or be in your arms, made me realise how much in love I was with you. All those six months, you consumed all of my thoughts, your laughter was all I could hear in my silent nights, your smile was all I could see everywhere I went. And not being able to tell you how much I loved you was killing me." He finished, tears flowing uncontrollably from his eyes.

You didn't know when your eyes started tearing up. All you knew was how much you loved him at this moment. Him confessing all his feelings for you, so vulnerably. It made you realise how much you just wanted to hold him and never let him go.

So you said, "I'm in love with you too, Satoru."

At first he thought his ears were playing tricks on him. You loved him back? His eyes shot open, pulling away from you as he stared at you in disbelief. “Y-you love me?”

"Yes, you idiot." You chuckled through your tears, pulling him closer. Your lips ghosted over his, causing him to shiver. "I've been in love with you for a really long time as well."

"I'm really an idiot, aren't I?" he said, laughing a little.

"Yes, you are. But you're my idiot."

And with that, he kissed you. All those years where he hid his feelings came pouring out in this one kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his like there was any more space between the two of you to close. Your arms looped around his neck, his one hand snaked down to your waist to steady you while one still remained on your cheek. He kissed you, pouring in all his regrets, mistakes, apprehensions, into his love, no longer wanting to pass up an opportunity to love you for the rest of his life.

And when he pulled back for air, he had the biggest smile on his face. "I'm the luckiest man on this earth." You pecked him again as you gave him your biggest grin.

On your way back home, you could feel it, you could hear it in the silence, you could see it with the lights out in the garden. It lingered between you two, suffocating you but it was the best feeling ever. Gojo Satoru is in love with you. You are in love.

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milliesfishes · 2 months ago

Text

꣑ৎ౨ৎWildflower꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: pregnancy, angst pairing: peacekeeper coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: an accident leaves you reeling trying to figure out what happens next author’s note: got this one out quick, hope it's good <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Summer was rearing its head once again and the more time passed, the less you were sure what to make of it.

In the pocket of enchantment you'd found yourself in a year ago, this would have been something beautiful. The passing of days was a gift, and each one brought forth something new, something worth cupping in your palms and keeping close to your heart for all eternity.

But it was not a year ago. And you were a different woman now.

It was a hot day, the air thick with temperature. You'd been running errands in town, feet throbbing with every new step. When you spotted a bench a little bit away you motivated yourself to move to it, pace faster until you were finally able to sit. A tiny gasp of relief left you as some of the pressure was relieved. It was to be expected- you were carrying extra weight now after all.

Exhaling through your nose, your gaze lowered to your middle, a hand instantly finding the swell of it. You smoothed your dress over your belly and tried to ignore the pain slithering around your lower back, sinking its fangs in every now and then.

There was no ring on your finger, no unspoken promise to the eyes of strangers that claimed you as a man's. All you had was the child growing within, the one that had been with you for four months, almost five.

Though you held your head high, even the mere notion that you should be ashamed made you feel it. People stared and whispered, wondering how this possibly could have happened. You were tainted now with the stain of bloody rumors, of things you didn't let bother you in public but were the cause of your tears at night. Once or twice you'd even been asked what everyone was wondering outright. Who's the father?

It was a learned skill to smile politely and excuse yourself.

Now you shut your eyes, leaning your head against the cool shaded portion of the brick wall behind you. You wished you'd thought to braid your hair today- it may as well have been a fur coat sticking to your body. Just a few more minutes.

The baby inside you shifted, and you hummed, looking down as if you could see her staring back at you. Quietly you rubbed the curve. "I know. I know, we're almost done," you murmured, fingers lazily trailing up and down. Stretching your legs out, you let your feet roll at the ankle, relieving some of the pain.

There were low voices nearby. You lifted your eyes, spotting the group of men in grey uniforms carrying guns. Straightening a bit, you scanned their faces, shadowed a bit by matching helmets. All solemn, nearly alike to one another. A twinge of sadness marked your mouth as you imagined each of them, some forced into service, some destined for this life endlessly lonely.

The group paused, stationing themselves at different intervals along the street. You lowered your vision when one positioned himself near you, the gap of the nearby alleyway marking the space between you.

He kept his eyes forward and you didn't bother looking up. Time stilled for a moment as a thousand thoughts pierced the bubble of your mind. Some insane. Some worse.

Tension is nearly physical. You could feel it tying around your hands like an invisible rope. Picking up your bag at your feet, you stood and brushed your dress off, ignoring the sticky hot of your hair on your neck.

The rest had done you some good. Now the hurt in your feet was dull, replaced by a different kind in your heart. Where you had once thought that kind of pain made up, now you felt it nearly every day. You inhaled softly, turning to leave.

He was looking at you now. Face stiff, hands firmly grasping his weapon. But his eyes...bluer than the lake on a clear day. A lake you had swum in. A lake that was nearly drowning you.

Now the streets may as well have been empty, dust lapping at your ankles as the gentle breeze danced around the floor. It was eerily quiet in this part of town, any noise wafting from the square by the fountain that had long dried out.

Impulses probed at your hands but you held them down. When your eyes met his, you didn't realize your hand went to touch your belly until he looked down at it.

Emotions were a hurricane. You wanted to thrash and scream and wail and ask why. Why life was so unfair, why so much suffering was thrust upon you, and you were expected to bear it with a smile. Some days were harder than others. You hadn't thought this would be one, but suddenly it was.

Giving the man in front of you one final look, you ducked into the alleyway and walked quickly through the shortcut. Maybe he had turned around to watch you go. You doubted it.

The baby stirred again and you didn't stop to comfort her this time. It was a reminder. One that would fasten itself to you for the rest of your life. There were endless things you should have been thinking right now.

There was only one rising above the chaotic mess. You hoped your child's eyes would be the same blue as his.

The knock at the door came when it was close to sunset. You had just put your feet up, the idea of starting dinner beginning to probe your mind. Shifting so you were sitting up better, you called, "Come in!"

When he entered, boots clomping the wooden floor of your simple home, you smiled tiredly, hand falling from atop your belly. Coriolanus stopped in front of you almost nervously. He'd swapped out his stark grey uniform for his blue civvies and white short sleeved shirt. It was too hot to wear the matching button-down.

You sighed, sleepily reaching out a hand. He took it, indulging you when you pulled him to sit on the sofa at your side. The second he was sitting, you leaned into him, head on his chest, belly touching his thigh. He knew the drill, hand sliding around you to rub your back, touching the lower aches you'd once confessed to him tearfully.

"How are you?" he murmured, turning his head to press his lips to your forehead. The sweet simplicity of the gesture nearly had tears pricking your eyes like beestings. Kindnesses were few and far between these days, and they mostly sprouted from him.

Nuzzling his chest, you said, "Fine." He moved his hand from your back to your belly, still holding you around the waist. His fingers splayed out, touching the edge of it. You settled your palm on his chest, bracing yourself and rubbing the center of it. "I've missed you."

"I'm sorry." Nowadays you felt like that was all you heard from him. Apology after apology for things neither of you could control. But he took it into stride, giving you as much as he could.

It was a soldier's rule: no marriages until five years after arrival to the location. Coriolanus had hardly been here three. Before this, you'd had daydreams about marrying barefoot and young and shining, his sweetheart through and through. And even though he rarely spoke of it, you'd known he wanted it too. Someday was a common word on both your tongues.

All it had taken was one night to ruin it. One night doing something you'd done so many times before, love drunk in his arms and whispering sweet nothings between heated kisses.

It had left you with a burden. Him with a promise he couldn't fulfill before it was carried out. You both with a secret.

And so you carried it all. Grew his child by yourself, the painful loneliness swallowing any joy you may have felt otherwise. He came to you whenever he could, caught brief flashes of your changing body, of something he'd created with you blooming in the shelter of your belly.

You knew he hated it. Hated missing so much and only being able to experience it for hours at a time. You hated it too, how much you needed him when he wasn't there. This had been a far off fantasy but now you were stuck with it.

Now, as he gazed down at you, you could read the hint of guilt tinting his eyes. He carried much of it, your Coryo, for a vast majority of things in his short life. You wished you could sweep it all away with a touch, a kiss, a smile. But all you could do was push it under the rug, later to be uncovered.

He lifted his hand to your face, and you leaned into his warm palm, not breaking your eyes from his. Coriolanus' other hand smoothed up and down your waist. His words were quiet. "You're so beautiful."

You didn't feel beautiful right now. The weight you'd gained, the pain on your insides piercing your sky like lightning in the oceanic turmoil of your heart. It was a mess. But the way he looked at you, you almost believed it.

With a small smile, you clasped his wrist, carefully bringing the hand down to your lips and kissing his knuckles. "I love you."

"I love you." He said it like a promise, a vow. You knew those three words, casual to some, weren't at all for him. Love was a commitment. It was more sacred to him than 'I do'. You knew all this, keeping it in mind whenever you told him.

Shifting, you moved to get up, but he stopped you, bracing a hand over your back. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"I was about to get something to eat," you said, stretching your arms out forward. "Just to keep me going until dinner."

"Let me." He was standing before you could protest, heading into the kitchen. You heard cupboards opening and shutting, the domesticity of the sound making you smile. He was always eager to jump up and help you since your time together was so little. And you never minded because it gave you time to pretend. For a moment you could pretend that this was your life.

You could imagine that whenever he came home, he would stay.

In practically no time he was returning to you with a bowl in hand, one of the pretty china ones with blue patterns on the outside that your mother had left you in her passing. A silver fork stuck out of it, and you peered inside when he brought it to you. Strawberries, neatly sliced and dusted with sugar.

You smiled like sunburst and took the bowl from him, leaning over to kiss his cheek when he sat back down, dutifully rewinding his arm around you. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He was absentmindedly stroking the side of your belly again, soothing the need that hollowed out a space when he wasn't there.

It was a haven of silence as you sat there with him, eating your berries and relaxing into his arms. He took the bowl when you finished, leaning forward to set it on the table. The sun was setting right outside the window and peeking through the thin lace of your curtains. You watched it quietly, dreading every second that passed. The further the sun ran, the closer at hand his departure was.

You could feel it before he began to unknot himself from you, taking his arm away and beginning to stand. But you sucked in a sharp breath, grasping at his arm. "Don't."

In his voice you could practically hear the lines cracking his heart like spiderwebs. "I have to. Sweetheart..." You shook your head, breaths growing quicker. Tears clawed at your throat, and you tried not to let it show.

"Please," you breathed, clasping your hand in his. "Don't leave me. I need you-" A little sob cut you off as you imagined the night ahead, lying by yourself. Fighting the hurt your body radiated all the while missing him and fruitlessly wishing he was here.

Coriolanus knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hands. He thumbed away a tear that slipped from the corner of your eye, his own never leaving yours. You sniffled, holding his wrists. "I can't do this without you-" your voice was high and hitching on every word. It was so much harder to be brave at night.

"Shh, my love." He smoothed your hair away from your face, just taking you in. Your breaths were shivering and shaky, and he let his hands fall to your shoulders, standing up. You looked up at him helplessly as he bent to kiss your forehead, holding you on your cheek. "It's going to be okay. I'll be back when I can."

"Stay," you tried, but he merely shook his head once, pushing your face to his chest. You breathed him in, holding him by his shirt and crying breathily. He stroked your hair gently and kissed the top of it once before his fingers fell from your skin like a leaf in autumn.

"Take care of her. Stay safe," he whispered, bending to press his lips to yours once, fleetingly. Your mouth was turned down, and he brushed two tears from your cheeks.

Reluctantly he pried himself from you and in an instant he was gone, the door shutting punctuated by the lonely sound of his footsteps becoming fainter the further he walked away.

Now it was dark, the shadows of your home swallowing everything. You had a dim idea to light a candle, but it was lost to the pits of your despair. Sometimes you wondered if he should stop coming, so you wouldn't miss him as badly.

The lonely sounds of the night were hollow in your ears. Grass rustled lightly against itself, and the house creaked every now and then as if shifting on its feet. You were perfectly still, feeling as though you were drowning.

For just a moment you wondered if you could just disappear. Let your body wither away into nothingness, or have the earth swallow your house as if it were never there. Your memory would be lost to time eventually and all the hardship you had been through would be nothing. You fantasized endlessly about it being nothing. Because it definitely didn't feel like that right now.

Inside you, the baby moved, and you could almost imagine her stretching. She had been still the entire time her father had been beside you. Your heart stopped at the thought of her meeting him for the first time, reaching up with tiny hands. Of her having his hair, his mouth, his eyes.

Taking in a slow breath, you let your final tear fall, a dot on your dress. Planting your feet on the ground, you stood, carefully making your way into the kitchen to find a candle. One step at a time.

Each step meant he would come back to you sooner.

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daisies-daydreams · 10 months ago

Note

Heyy, I absolutely love your fics and the way you write so I wanted to submit a request if that's okay! I was reading your fic 'the first step' and got the idea from there coz I'm always rereading that fic it's really good

Could I request a ghostxfem!reader where reader is a doctor and her and ghost have been married for a couple of years now which ghost has still kept a secret, and she recently starts as head doctor at his base where she finally meets 141

But soap, not yet knowing that she's married to ghost, tries to flirt with her for sometime and ghost just gets really jealous and protective and finally tells the truth to everyone and they're just all like '😧' coz who the hell would marry some broody guy loll it can be a little lighthearted if you like

Sorry for the long message😭 thank you so much and I hope you keep doing what you're doing coz I'm practically in love with your writing❤️❤️

Lovely (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Doctor!Reader)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Doctor!Reader Category: Fluff/(Some) Angst Warnings: Swearing, Flirting, Jealous!Ghost, Slightly Suggestive Content Word Count: 2.8k+ A/N: Hi there! I love it when Simon gets so protective/jealous. 🤭 Thank you for your request and sweet words, and I hope you enjoy!

“Have you been up all night?” you asked as you stepped into the kitchen. Your husband, Simon, flinched as your soft voice carried through the room. He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face, the bags under his eyes already confirming your suspicion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you breathed as you laid a hand on his broad shoulder.

“It’s alright, hun,” he grumbled. Your heart skipped a beat as he rested his lips against your wrist, his warm skin lingering against yours as you rubbed his other shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked as you took the seat beside him. Simon sighed heavily as he bit the inside of his cheek. A heavy silence lingered between the two of you before he leaned back in his chair.

“I just…you know how I feel about keeping these parts of my life separate,” he spoke up. You looked down.

“I know,” you swallowed as your hand fell back into your lap. Simon sucked in a sharp breath as he slid his hand over his mouth.

“Then why did you take the position as head doctor?” he murmured while gazing into your eyes. You paused for a moment, your eyes slightly wide as you rummaged through your thoughts. You took a deep breath.

“Because I wanted to be closer to you, Simon,” you confessed. Simon blinked as he stiffened in his chair.

“Baby, you already see me when I’m on leave,” he said while laying a hand on your thigh. A lump swelled in your throat as you nodded.

“I know…I just-I miss you, Si,” you sniffed. He immediately pulled you onto his lap before wrapping an arm around you. Your heart skipped a beat as he lips pressed to the crown of your head.

“I love you, (Y/N). I just want you to be safe,” your beloved replied. You pulled back a little before gently cupping his cheek.

“I love you, too, Si. But you’ve told me that the people you work with are trustworthy, right?” you asked. He glanced away before silently nodding in agreement. You smiled softly and let your hand slide down to his shoulder. “And you’ll always know where I am,” you added with a soft chuckle. The corners of your husband's eyes crinkled while you pecked his lips.

“I’ll be fine...we’ll be fine,” you beamed while sliding your hands over his rugged cheeks. Your love's face softened as he took a deep breath.

“Thank you, love,” Simon smiled as he rested his forehead against yours. You sighed as he splayed one of his hands across your lower back. The two of you held each other as the golden sun peeked over the roofs of your neighborhood.

“Have any tips for my first day?” you murmured. Simon hummed as he pulled back, his lips pursed as he thought for a few moments.

“If Johnny tries to flirt with you, let me know,” he said. You chuckled and pecked his lips.

“Yes sir, Lt.,” you winked with a small salute.

+++

"Think you dropped this, dolly," the Scotsman behind you drawled. You blinked and turned around to find your phone in Johnny’s large, calloused hand.

"Goodness - my first day on base and I'm already losing things," you laughed. The corners of the Sergeant's bright, blue eyes crinkled as he chuckled.

"No worries. Always happy to help," the man winked as he slid your phone into your palm. You noticed how his hand seemed to linger against yours as he took a step closer. Your brows knitted together as he tilted his head down.

"I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but would you like to grab some drinks later?" he said while flashing you a bright smile. You felt the tips of your ears burn as you looked down at your shoes.

"No, thank you," you said while gripping your phone. Johnny sighed and slid his hands into his pockets.

"Right. Next time, then," the Sergeant winked. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes as you gave him a small, tight smile.

"Have a good day, Johnny," you said before he waltzed out of your office. You shook your head and sighed as you finished up your notes.

“Prescribing patient with 50 mg of Androcur* - take twice daily,” you joked to yourself.

“Better make it three times,” you heard your husband murmur from the doorway. You squeaked and nearly threw your pen across your desk as you gasped.

“Simon!” you whisper screamed as you laid a hand over your chest. Simon uncrossed his arms as he lumbered towards you, letting the door shut behind him. You watched as he paused right, his shadow looming over you. He suddenly reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a little container containing a cupcake.

“Thought you could use a little pick-me-up,” he said, the dark fabric of his face mask billowing as he talked. Your eyes lit up as he handed you the plastic container.

“Thank you, baby,” you cooed. Simon sighed heavily as you set it aside while finishing up your notes.

"What did he say to you?" your husband asked, his voice a low yet gentle growl. You hummed before spinning around in your chair.

"Who? Johnny?" you blinked. Simon nodded as he shifted in place. "He just wanted to get drinks with me," you shrugged. You saw your love narrow his hickory eyes, his gaze even darker beneath his skull mask. "Don't worry, I told him no," you smiled brightly while cupping his cheek. Simon slowly relaxed and took a deep, long breath.

"Good. Wanker needs to learn his place," he huffed. A small smirk danced over your features as you giggled.

"Honey, don't worry about it," you said as you rose to your feet. Simon tilted his head as you pulled out your wedding ring from your pocket. "Even though this isn't on my finger while I'm at work, I'll always act like it is," you reassured him as you laid your other hand on his waist. Simon grunted, his gaze softening as he pulled you close.

“You’re too good to me, lovie,” he murmured. You smiled as he slid his mask down and captured your lips in a sweet, tender kiss. You squeaked as he reached his hand down and eagerly squeezed your bum. “And I’ll make sure to be good to you later,” he rumbled with a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Simon,” you whined as he chuckled in your ear. The two of you paused when you heard another knock on your door.

“That’s my three o’clock,” you sighed. Simon frowned, his lips parted ever so slightly before he pulled his mask up. You grinned ear to ear as your husband slid his hands into yours and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll see you after your shift,” he rumbled with a soft look in his eyes. You slowly nodded, your heart aching that he had to leave so soon.

“‘Kay,” you replied before pecking his cheek. The knocking grew louder before Simon strolled over and nearly ripped the door from its hinges. The soldier’s eyes widened as your beloved stared him down.

“S-Sorry,” the man squeaked before walking past him. You gave Simon one last grin before he disappeared down the hall. Your mind began to wander for the rest of your shift, the thought of Simon acting defensive when it came to Johnny making you hide a smirk.

The Sergeant was just infatuated with you - he'd probably grow bored the next time you said "no" to him.

+++

Johnny’s flirting continued for weeks since you started working on base. Each time you told Simon about it, you could see a vein pop in the side of his head or his fists clench...and each time, he'd say that he's "fine".

"Thanks again for the check-up, doc," Johnny beamed as he held his hip. You were pulled out of your thoughts as the man rose to his feet.

"No problem, Johnny," you replied as you gave him his diagnosis sheet with instructions on how to treat the black and blue mark on his hip. You noticed that, despite the bruise on his waist, he was wearing more tight-fitting jeans today and a black, tight workout shirt. You paused when you saw him linger in the doorway his eyes locked on your pensive expression as you crossed your ankles.

"Is there anything else you need, Sergeant?" you asked with a raised brow. Johnny slightly bit his lip as his eyes were filled with desire.

"Just wonderin' if you'd like to take me up on my offer from a while ago and get some drinks with me tonight?" Johnny asked with a sparkling smile. You gripped the ring in your pocket as you kept yourself from sighing too loudly.

"Johnny, while I admire your...persistence, I'm not interested. Thank you, though," you explained with a firm voice. The Scotsman's lowered tensed a bit as he rubbed his arm.

"Right," the Sergeant replied while averting your gaze. There was still a determined twinkle in his eye as the two of you said your goodbyes. You sighed and shook your head before finishing up a few more tasks before your lunch break. Your body slightly ached with exhaustion as you glanced down at your watch.

"Thank God," you breathed as you shrugged your lab coat off of your shoulders. You hung it on the back of your chair before clocking out and heading over to the food court. You perked your head up when you saw your husband sitting at one of the tables. You noticed how tightly he was gripping his drink while Johnny motioned with his hands wildly. As childish as it seemed, you slowly inched towards them and hid behind a pillar nearby.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Lt. - that new doc is an absolute fox,” Johnny said. You could practically hear your husband’s eyes narrow and jaw clench.

“Surprised she hasn’t fallen for you, yet,” Kyle said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Johnny rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure she’ll come around,” he said optimistically. "She said I was persistent," the Sergeant added.

"I don't think that was meant as a compliment," Kyle muttered. Simon gripped his plastic cup so hard you thought he could crush it with his bare hand.

"You alright, Lt.?" the Sergeant hummed. Simon straightened his posture as if squaring up for a fight.

“Peachy fuckin' keen," your love droned. Your eyes widened as you watched him bounce his leg beneath the table. Johnny raised his brows as a smirk stretched across his face.

“My my - are we a tad bit jealous, Lt.?” he chuckled. You saw the fire dancing in Simon’s dark eyes as he drummed his fingers on the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you have a turn when-“ Everyone flinched when Simon suddenly slammed his fist down on the table. Johnny’s smile immediately fell while the Lieutenant leaned over the table and stared him dead in the eye. You rushed towards them as your husband seethed.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about my wife that way, Sergeant,” he snapped. The men’s jaws dropped while you froze where you stood. "You're to treat her with respect, do you understand?" Simon bellowed as he loomed over the Sergeant.

"Si, baby?" you cooed behind him. Simon suddenly whipped his head around, his brown eyes widening as he stiffened beneath your gaze.

"Sweetheart," he sucked in a sharp breath as you stood before all three of them. Time seemed to slow before you took a small step forward.

“S-Sweetheart?“ Johnny stammered as he pointed between the two of you. Kyle’s mouth remained wide open as you gently placed a hand on Simon's forearm and rubbed it tenderly. Your husband looked down at you, his body relaxing beneath your soft touch as you smiled up at him. Johnny’s face instantly grew pale as his lips drew into a tight line.

“Shit, man. What the hell were you doing flirting with a married woman?” Kyle whispered loudly as he shifted in his seat.

“I didn’t know she was married!” Johnny said, his voice cracking as heat filled his cheeks. “Did you?”

“Of course not! But I did think it was weird how often Ghost was around her,” Kyle replied. You smiled and rubbed Simon’s burly arm while the two men spoke as if you weren’t standing before them. Your beloved sighed before clearing his throat.

“I suppose now’s a good time as any to explain ourselves,” he spoke up. Kyle and Johnny shifted in their seats, their faces slightly flustered as they moved their gaze between Simon and you. You gave your husband a reassuring smile as he exhaled sharply. "This is my wife, (Y/N)," Simon stated matter-of-factly as the two of you held hands beneath the table. You grinned as you held your free hand out.

"Nice to finally meet the two of you properly," you chuckled. Kyle took your hand first, shaking it firmly while Johnny stared on in disbelief.

“Y’alright, Johnny?” the Lieutenant drawled with a raised brow. The Scotsman snapped his mouth shut as he blinked several times and shook his head.

“I…you…how?” he stammered. You giggled at his dumbfounded expression while Simon groaned. “Did Price ever know about this?” Kyle piped up, the two men now acting like curious schoolboys wanting in on a secret. Simon nodded as he ran his hand down his face.

“‘Course he knew - man’s the one who helped us stay covert this whole time,” your husband muttered as his hand fell back down to his side.

“Until now,” Johnny said with a small smirk, already back to his old self. “Back to what I wanted to say earlier: how the bloody hell did a bonnie like yourself end up marrying a bloke like him?” he asked.

"Be careful what you say, Sergeant," Simon warned. You rolled your eyes and playfully flicked his arm.

“We actually met in the park,” you said as your eyes lit up. Simon glanced away and you stifled a giggle - you knew how red his face was getting beneath his mask. “I was riding my bike and he was out for his morning jog. I was rounding a corner and my brakes stopped working,” you said. You turned towards him, bouncing a little in your seat as you anticipated for him to continue the story. Simon remained silent for several moments before he sighed.

“She crashed right into me,” he murmured before looking up. You heard Kyle snort across from you while Johnny hid a cheeky smile.

“I was panicking, asking if he was okay - checking for any injuries,” you continued. Simon chuckled a little.

“You were the one with a concussion,” he pointed out. You blushed and bit your lip. “If anything, I’m the one who destroyed your bike, not the other way around,” Simon mused. You laughed and nodded.

“So, the rest is history then?” Johnny chimed in. You hummed in reply.

“Yep - he found it ironic that he was talking a doctor to the ER,” you said with a bubbly giggle. Simon shrugged.

“Had to do something,” he replied bluntly. You smiled as you leaned over and pecked his cheek.

"To me, it was everything," you said while lovingly stroking his arm. Simon purred lowly while he stared into your eyes.

"Well...you're my everything," he whispered softly. You flinched when the alarm on your watch suddenly went off.

"Ugh, lunch break's almost over," you frowned before slowly rising to your feet.

"Wait-" Johnny began. The three of you eyed him as he swallowed thickly. Simon tensed as he stepped towards you, your bodies only about a foot apart as the Sergeant parted his lips. "I-I just wanted to apologize for all the things I said," he muttered as the tips of his ears burned with red. "Had I known you were married, I wouldn't have been more...persistent," he winced at the last word. You gave him a small grin while you tilted your head.

"I forgive you, Johnny," you replied. He closed his eyes and sighed with relief. "This time," you added before turning on your heel. Simon chuckled quietly while Johnny's jaw dropped. You smiled as you brushed your fingers through your beloved's dirty blonde hair.

"I'll see you after my shift, yeah?" you beamed with a wink. Simon slowly nodded, his eyes half-lidded and mouth parted beneath his mask.

"Yeah," your husband simply replied. You grinned and pecked his forehead.

"See you later, boys," you said with a wave. They all waved goodbye as you hummed to yourself, walking towards a vending machine for a little snack. You heard Kyle say something just within earshot before you left:

"You're a lucky son of a bitch, Riley," the Sergeant said. You cracked a smile and turned to meet Simon's loving gaze. He rested his cheek on his fist while sighing happily.

"I sure am, Garrick," he replied.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

*Note: Androcur is a medication used to regulate high libido.

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#call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #simon riley ghost #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley call of duty #simon riley cod #simon riley

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

Better Than Revenge | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You thought you had the interest of one of the aviators who frequented your bar. He always had a soft smile when only looking at you. But when there's another girl hanging on his every word and his arm, Rooster helps you get Jake to come to his senses.

Warnings: Fluff

Length: 2300

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? This is for @cherrycola27 Top Gun Taylor challenge!

There he was. He came to the Hard Deck every Friday night like clockwork. Surrounded by his friends, he made his way through the crowd that had accumulated to shake off the work week and start the weekend. And as always, when his eyes met yours, his lips curved into that signature smile that was never quite as pronounced when he was looking at anyone else.

Your reaction to Hangman was embarrassing. It felt like you were back in your high school cafeteria, trying to discreetly check out one of the football players while sitting at the band geek table. But then there were little interactions here and there that made your heart swell with hope and desire. Almost like something could happen if you let it.

"Hey, darlin'. It's nice to see you," Jake drawled as he approached. He leaned with his forearms on the top of the bar, grinning just for you. That's when you realized you had been wiping up the same few drops of spilled Miller Lite for at least two minutes. You tossed the rag to the side and tried to keep your hands from shaking.

"Hangman. You want your usual?" you asked with a smile of your own, planting your hands on your hips and trying to keep your cool.

The tip of his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth as his gaze dipped down to read The Hard Deck across the front of your tank top. It felt like you and he were the only people inside the bar. The way he was always singularly focused on you when he ordered his drinks, lingering a few minutes to chat, had you flushed every time.

"Yeah. My usual." He was smirking at you, eyes so playful, like he knew you were barely functioning at the moment. He favored whiskey sours with Kentucky bourbon and egg whites, and it was actually your favorite cocktail to make. He watched you intently as you got to work, measuring and pouring, constantly in motion, working up a sweat. On the other hand, he was the picture of cool perfection, the king of nonchalance. That's why his warm gaze on your hands while you worked got you so flustered.

"You make 'em that good for everyone else, or just me?" he drawled when you were pouring it into a glass for him.

His gaze was teasing yet sincere. And you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. "You flirt like this with everyone else, or just me?"

He didn't seem to have a response to that as he looked at you with parted lips and a raised eyebrow. But when you slid the drink across the bar, your fingers met his, and it felt intentional. "Thanks, darlin'." He locked eyes with you, his drink paused halfway to his lips. "It looks good." But he wasn't looking at his cocktail; he was looking at you, his eyes lingering on your lips as you grinned at him.

As soon as he took one sip, you saw a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. At first he looked stunned, but then he seemed to relax when he realized who was touching him.

"Minx, hi," he said, careful not to spill the cocktail as he briefly met your eyes before turning to face a woman so young and pretty, you were immediately filled with dejection.

"Hangman," she crooned in a voice that sounded like it belonged in a bedroom. "I missed you."

He just chuckled. "Just saw you all day at work, Minx."

"Nothing wrong with seeing me outside of work," she told him with a wink.

"You can't get enough of me." Jake's voice and attention seemed to have the same effect on her as they did on you, and your heart felt heavy in your chest as she rested her hand on his abs.

You took a step away from them, eager to find someone else to wait on. "Enjoy your drink," you told Jake with a smile that didn't reach your eyes. He watched you like he wanted to say something, but he did not.

You turned away from him to take another drink order, but soon you saw him playing darts with Minx, and she was laughing hysterically at everything he was saying. You couldn't look away. It was like a five alarm fire, something that held your attention even though it was making you uncomfortable and anxious. She was touching him again now, and you knew you didn't even have the right to feel jealous.

"Can I get another?" You turned to your right to see Rooster setting down his empty beer bottle with a smile.

"Sure," you replied, focusing on him instead. "How's the pool table treating you tonight?"

"Not bad," he replied, and you knew he could tell where you kept glancing. "Seems like you're more interested in darts? Or someone who is playing darts?"

You shrugged and uncapped his beer. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Mmm," Rooster hummed before taking a sip. "What time do you get off tonight?"

You were a little startled by his question. "In about an hour."

He nodded politely at you. "That's good. I'll still be hanging by the pool table then, just in case you feel like joining me?"

"Oh," you gasped softly. "Well...."

Rooster chuckled. "Nothing makes that man more jealous than when I have something he wants. Just keep that in mind." He rapped on the bartop with his knuckles before smiling at you and strolling back to the pool table like he hadn't a care in the world.

You didn't think it was a good idea to try to make Jake jealous. If he really wanted you, he would have made a move by now, but instead he had Minx hanging off of his arm while he still managed to successfully hit the bullseye nearly every time he threw a dart.

When Jake glanced your way and found that you were already looking at him, you wanted to disappear into thin air. But instead, you quirked one eyebrow and slowly turned away from him. When your shift ended, you'd just thank Rooster for thinking about your feelings, and then head home for the night.

Or at least that was your plan, until you saw Jake try to disentangle himself from Minx, only for her to press her lips to his cheek. You felt the overwhelming need for him to pick you. And as he finally escaped from her and headed back up to the bar, you squared your shoulders.

Jake looked a little flustered this time when he asked you for another whiskey sour. "Sure. And anything for your companion?" you asked as you reached for the bottle of bourbon without missing a beat.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Nah. I only buy drinks for the girls I really like."

You paused with the bourbon in your hand. "And you're not buying her one?"

"Nope," he said casually, leaning a little closer to you while you got the egg whites ready. "Hey, so...what did Rooster want? I saw you and he were chatting a bit."

Your heart skipped along a little faster, your blood running a little hotter as you glanced up at Jake. There were some cracks in the facade now; he only looked like the picture of indifference, because now he seemed a little apprehensive.

"He invited me to hang out with him after my shift ends," you replied with a shrug.

Jake's lips parted, but no sound came out. When you slid his drink to him, he finally asked, "So are you going to? Hang out with Rooster?"

This time you leaned on the bar and eyed him up and down. "Probably. He's cute, and he told me he'd help me get better at pool."

Jake scoffed. "He's not that good at pool," he muttered, and you were immediately rolling your eyes and backing away as Minx kissed him on the cheek again right in front of you.

"Enjoy your drink," you told him as he was dragged away. And you finished your shift with a bit of a bounce in your step, because Jake ignored Minx and kept turning to see where you were.

When you clocked out, you decided to touch up your makeup and fix your hair before breezing right past Jake and heading for the pool table where Rooster was talking to his friends. "You mind if I take you up on that offer?"

Rooster turned around to face you with a grin. "Not one bit," he said, handing you a pool cue and nodding toward the table. "You wanna break, or you want me to?"

You bit your lip, wondering if Jake was watching. "You can. I am actually pretty bad at pool," you said with a laugh.

"No problem. We can teach you a lesson the same time we teach Hangman a lesson," Rooster said, and you watched him send the colorful balls gliding around the table. "I'm solid, you're stripes," he informed you, and when it was your turn to take a shot, Rooster came to stand next to you. "You want me to help you?"

"Yeah," you told him, too afraid to see what Jake and Minx were up to.

"I'm going to touch you. Okay?"

"Okay," you told Rooster, and he was immediately guiding you a few feet to your right with his hands on your hips. "Hey, why are you being nice to me?"

Rooster laughed and bent you at the waist a bit, getting your pool cue into position. "It's fun getting under his skin. And nobody likes Minx." He leaned in a little closer and added, "Also, I expect priority service at the bar from here on out."

"I knew there would be a catch," you mumbled, taking your shot and sinking one of your balls into the corner pocket.

"There's always a catch," Rooster told you, giving you a fist bump and helping you get lined up for your next shot on the other side of the table.

And that's when you spotted Jake, holding darts in his open palm and staring at you with Rooster. He looked concerned and maybe a little hurt, but you forced your focus back to the table and let Bradley place his hands on your arms while he stood behind you.

"He likes you," Rooster muttered with a laugh. "Look at him turning red now. Shit, this is fun."

You couldn't help but laugh, too. "If he really likes me, he better come over here soon."

"He will," Rooster promised, bending you into position again. "Ready for the grand finale?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, and immediately you felt the prickle of his mustache against your neck. You were about to tell him how much it tickled as he guided your arms through your shot, sinking another ball into the side pocket.

But the plan worked. Before you could say anything to Rooster at all, Jake was storming around the table and slamming the darts down next to the 8 ball.

"What the hell, man?" he asked Rooster, brow creased and cheeks flushed.

"What?" Bradley asked, donning a tone of complete innocence. "We're just playing some pool. RIght?" he asked, turning to you with a smirk.

"That's right," you agreed. "Rooster was helping me with my form. Thanks, Roos."

Jake's eyes narrowed to slits as he positioned himself between the two of you with his hand on your arm. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone, please?"

You just shrugged. "Whatever you have to say, you can go ahead and say it here." But now Minx was calling for Jake, and you felt your shoulders slump as you rolled your eyes.

When you started to turn away from Jake, he stroked your arm with his thumb. "Wait, darlin'. Please." He took his hand in yours and led you away from the pool table and to a quieter corner. "What are you doing with Rooster?" he asked softly, green eyes focused on yours.

"What are you doing with Minx?" you managed to ask as he leaned in a little closer to you, linking his fingers with yours.

He laughed softly. "Apparently I'm learning a lesson in just how much I want you."

"Oh," you gasped, bringing your free hand up to his chest. "How much?"

He dragged his thumb gently along your bottom lip, a crooked grin settling on his handsome face. "A whole lot."

And then your eyes fluttered closed and you were kissing him, your fingers sliding up his neck and into his silky hair. You didn't know where Rooster or Minx or anyone else had disappeared to, and you didn't care. Jake was nibbling on your lips before gently slipping his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like bourbon, and you pulled him closer with a sigh.

Then he was smiling against your lips, and Jake trailed kisses along your jaw until he was whispering next to your ear. "Will you let me buy you a drink?"

You laughed, rubbing your thumb in small circles on the back of his neck. "You only buy drinks for the girls you really like."

"Mmhmm. Which is why I'm buying all your drinks from now on, darlin'."

You smirked at him, and led him away from the pool table, giving Rooster a fist bump when you passed him. You barely noticed Minx pouting by the dart board as you turned to Jake and asked, "How about we take a raincheck on you buying me a drink?"

His face fell a little bit, but he nodded and tried to pull his hand out of yours. "Oh, okay."

"I'll take you back to my place instead," you told Jake, pulling on his hand until he was right next to you. You kissed him again, your lips lingering on his. "And I'll make you the whisky sour of your dreams."

He was smiling again and wrapping his arm around your waist. "Lead the way, darlin'."

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

Thanks for indulging my quarterly need to write about Hangman. Thanks to @wkndwlff for everything with this fic!

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#jake hangman x reader #jake x reader #hangman x you #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin #top gun taylors version

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phoenixeclipse-lmkau · 2 months ago

Note

so another crumb, might not be accurate to your idea of reader, so bear with me

imagine a reader, who likes to sing, but HATES doing it in front of people. there is no sign of it, no singing, no humming, nothing around people. she will only sing if she thinks she is alone.

and one of the days spirit goes off to get to find food, reader hums a lil tune, because its only her and the cubs around, and animals aren't people.

this develops into a habit whenever the cubs are alone with reader until one day, after many false starts, reader starts to sing. the cubs love it, a song/secret just for them that spirit doesn't get to see. perhaps reader will even sing them to sleep if they're lucky.

but, after the curse breaks, well.

they're people not cubs now.

and reader knows about shapeshifting, so now every animal might be a person in disguise.

and reader hates singing in front of people.

maybe it was because of a bad experience, perhaps she didn't want to make noise and take up space, maybe its a bad case of stage fright, maybe its just some sort of instinct, but whatever it is, reader wont budge.

no matter how much they beg, plead or threaten, reader wont sing for them. reader wont even sing when left alone in the forests of flower fruit mountain. they know of macaque after all, and his ears.

but every so often, when the mountain is quiet in the dead of the night, and not a single soul can be heard, fragments of a quiet humming voice can be heard. it never goes on for too long, but it makes the listener wonder what it would sound like.

its the only thing the monkey duo gets to listen to, after turning back. while they would never want to go back, they do miss those fragile moments sometimes.

macaque is a bit more lucky in this regard. not even the slightest sound will escape him, but reader explicitly avoids singing because of him. only fragments will remain

i hope this crumb is as good as the last?

Yes yes yes!! Let me have it!! I love this!! After having a long day this is just what I needed!

Omg! Yes, actually I love the idea of Reader liking to sing but is too afraid to share her singing with anyone else.

Wukong and Macaque knowing that they are the only ones to hear it? Oh now, everyone else better pray they don't hear her sing. They are possessive and depending on who hears it other than them? May very well end up dead.

Now, not cubs or a few specific people (such as Spirit. She's safe from most of their wrath because of her relation to Reader)

They would be desperate to get her to sing again. They would do anything... well almost anything.

___

"Freedom," you said calmly, your eyes shifting to the side.

"What?" Wukong was the first to speak his eyes widening at the word.

He had to let go of your arms, which he had been gently holding. He didn't want to hurt you, but the rage that swelled in his chest almost made him hurt your arms.

"I said... I'll sing if you give me my freedom," you were quiet, your voice timid as you made your 'demand.'

"Darling you do have freedom. You can travel anywhere on Flower Fruit Mountain that you want,” Macaque spoke up as he brushed your hair out of your face.

You looked at him, his face held a warm and soft smile. With a frown you shook your head. “Freedom, I want to go home.”

As soon as you said the word home both of the monkey demons in front of you growled harshly. You immediately took a step back only to be pulled back towards them as they held you like you were about to disappear. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked at them with fear.

“We are not letting you go, ever.”

Just like that their desperation for the simpler times when you would sing to them in private or sing them to sleep caused an argument. They didn’t want to let you go, they would never let you go. No matter how much you wanted your freedom. To them you had freedom to travel around the island, safe where the monkey demons of the mountain would watch over you.

“Leave me alone,” You muttered looking downcast.

“But-,” Wukong started before storming out of the room.

Macaque looked at you sadly before nodding and following, “We’ll be here if you need anything.”

At least you could depend on that. If you wanted privacy they’d leave you alone. If you wanted food, they’d give you anything. They spared no expense to get you anything you wanted, except for your freedom. Looking down you wiped a tear away from your eyes. This was one of the few times that you’d completely closed them out.

It was over an hour later before you managed to force yourself to leave the room. You slowly opened the dark, oak wood door way that was carved with delicate roses, something that Wukong thought you would like. You couldn’t help the weak smile at that, before pushing the thought away. These monkey demons your Peaches and Plums were the ones who kidnapped you and forced you to live on their island. But they were kind to you, they gave you everything you could ask for except for your freedom.

“Your Majesty,” A sweet and small voice spoke up, one of the island cubs.

“Oh… hello there sweety,” You couldn’t help the smile at the small and very cute cub. A dark brown cub with blue eyes, and wore a pink hanfu.

“The Monkey King and His Warrior would like you to eat with them. If that would be alright, they said they’ll send your food to your room if not,” The cub said smiling, blissfully unaware of the reasons behind this encounter.

Your heart squeezed at the thought. Even while they constantly craved for your attention, for your touch they would keep their distance until you came to them or called out to them. You smiled, kneeling down to pick up the cub who chirped happily as you did so. Even though many of the monkey demons seemed to hate you when you first arrived they had all calmed down when not only their Kings adored you but the four generals had also watched over you. You were now adored by the island and none of them wanted you to leave.

“I’ll attend,” You smiled, knowing that the cub would likely not like it if you rejected the invitation. No doubt she was sent because the two Kings knew of your ever bleeding heart.

As much as you wanted to not talk to them just for the foul play as you thought it was, you couldn’t help but cuddle the small cub in your arms. You received happy chirps and chitters from it before you let her go to run off to tell the kings. They would meet you before you even made it to the dining hall within the stone palace. With a sigh you walked on through the large stone palace. Your hanfu (a gift from the monkey demons) slightly dragging on the floor behind you. A gorgeous gown made of red silk with golden thread embroidered throughout the fabric in rose patterns.

“Darling,” Macaque muttered as he stepped out of your shadow.

You barely glanced at him as he wrapped a hand around your waist and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. He nuzzled his cheek against yours afterwards which you didn’t fight. As much as you hated to admit it you didn’t mind the kisses and nuzzles that the two monkey king’s gave you. Even if they still terrified you with their nature at times.

“Macaque,” You responded calmly.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked with a small smile, his tail wrapping around your waist protectively too. He acted as though you may disappear but there wasn’t much pressure that would make it painful.

You didn’t get the chance to respond when Wukong suddenly came around the corner sitting atop his golden colored cloud. “Darling!~ You’re feeling better!”

You were pulled into a hug by the monkey king, a kiss on the opposite cheek that Macaque kissed. They loved showering you with affection, especially after you three got into an argument. They wouldn’t change. At least not now.

So this ended up sadder than I planned… oops. But you gave me the angst to work with, can I blame you anon? Nah, I’m the one who wrote this part. Anyways thank you for the noms!! I really do love reading these. Sorry for slow replies but I do love writing these extra little scenes.

Now that I look at it, it kinda went off topic of the singing… Eh oh well. I’d like opinions if possible! Plus kudos to this anon I loved reading this!! I love these crumbs, the tasty noms!!

Be careful, I might start calling you Crumb or Cookie Anon hehe~

#dead dove do not eat #sun wukong x macaque #yandere sun wukong #yandere macaque #macaque x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x macaque x reader #shadowpeach x female reader #shadowpeach x reader #cursed warlords Au #cursed warlords lmk au

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dancingtotuyo · 5 months ago

Text

epilogue. the ghosts that we knew

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: angst, hurt and comfort, cancer, TLOU II SPOILERS, death, grief, Major Character Death, afterlife?

Notes: So we come to the end of this beautiful journey. Thank you EVERYONE for all your lovely comments and words over these past several month. I hope you don't hate me too much.

Words: 3942

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

You walk the trail every night. Sometimes, Ellie joins you or Maria, but never Tommy. Sometimes you walk alone. You talk to Gabe still. You tell him about Carter. You tell him that you’re okay. But most often, you talk to Joel. It’s not that you loved him more, but it is different. Where Gabe drifted further away in death, you still feel Joel nearby like he’s watching over you. You wonder if Gabe saw Joel coming. Maybe he stepped back so you could have someone next to you.

You tell Joel about your day and how the kids are growing. You pull his smile, the feel of his hand in yours, out of the recesses of your mind, so close to the surface, it's almost tangible. You tell him that you miss him. It takes years, but eventually, you tell him that you’re okay.

Ellie spends more time with you at the house. She walks with you to take Carter and Willa to school. She comes over for dinner most nights. Together, you tell your favorite Joel stories over dinner. Carter chimes in from time to time. Willa listens for every drop she can glean of the fading figure in her young mind.

The kids are asleep when Ellie has her first panic attack. The clattering of pots falling to the floor does it. You hold her through it. Your hands aren’t able to fix this one. She sleeps next to you on Joel’s side of the bed that night. It still smells like him.

It’s a month after Joel’s burial when Tommy comes fumbling in late to your weekly family dinners. He has a lead on the girl who did it. Tension seeps through your bones. You don’t have the same taste for revenge. The idea is bitter in your mouth.

There’s a lot of shouting. Maria tells Tommy no. That part is clear, but you see the guilt seep through him. He knows he’s not responsible for Joel’s death, but he can’t let it go. It’s no surprise when Maria knocks on your door the next morning that Tommy is gone. Ellie and Dina ride out that morning. Jesse follows suit soon after.

The familiar fog of grief creeps at the corners of your mind. You can’t let it overtake you this time. You have the kids. Tommy and Ellie’s absence makes it harder, but you push through. You want to do more than just survive. You can almost hear Joel cheering you on.

You throw yourself into motherhood and training your apprentices. At night, you cry yourself to sleep. Maria and Elias spend more time at your house than theirs. You never say it out loud, but both of you start to wonder if your family unit which was once 8 has dwindled to 5.

A weight lifts off your chest when Ellie bursts into the clinic. You pull her into a suffocating hug and then inspect her for injuries. There are many, but she’s going to be okay. Tommy’s leg is another story. It’s been too long since he sustained the injury. He’ll walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Dina’s shoulder injury is miraculously not infected, but it’s the subtle swell of her abdomen that makes you lose your breath.

You’re able to find a strong heartbeat with the doppler. Dina and Ellie share a relieved look. You want to ask but restrain yourself. Ellie will tell you when you need to know.

You don’t ask where Jesse is.

Your family dinners resume. Your family table is back to 8 since Dina joined with the ever-growing promise of 9. You know Tommy is still searching for leads on Abby. You pray he never finds them. Things between him and Maria aren’t good. Ellie says she’s done seeking her out.

Ellie spends a lot of her free time riding outside the wall. You don’t ask questions. Joel liked to wander too. Sometimes she shares about the things she saw, but oftentimes she just shares a knowing grin with Dina. There’s a twinge in your heart. You used to do the same with Joel.

Autumn is in the air when you finally open Joel’s drawers. Maria hasn’t said anything about Joel’s clothes, but you know you need to go through them, distribute what’s wearable to people who need it. It still smells like him. Tears spring in your eyes. It’s been so long that you have started to forget it. Closing your eyes, you can feel him next to you, behind you, in front. He’s all around. His soft voice echoes deep within your brain almost like he’s whispering in your ear. The tears fall in steady streams.

You save 2 shirts, one for Carter and one for Willa. Ellie has his watch, and you have the kids. The rest of his shirts and jeans go into the box. Then you clean out his sock drawer, checking each for holes, which most of them have. A small smirk crosses your face. You and Sarah used to do the laundry. His socks always had holes then too. Some things never change. You pull two socks apart, and something flashes in the light before hitting the floor with a soft ping. You toss the socks into the box, feeling around for the item. You find it just under the dresser.

You hold the thin, gold band in your palm. It feels so delicate in your hands. Diamond chips encrust half of the band, shimmering in the light. Your eyes water again. It slips on with just enough resistance that it won’t slip off: a perfect fit. How long did he have this? Was he going to give it to you?

Yes. It whispers in your bones.

Not as a proposal, you know that, but a sign of his commitment. You slip it back off. Something doesn’t sit right about wearing it on your finger for the whole world to see. You want to keep this between you and Joel for a little while.

You open up the box on your dresser. It contains your wedding band, untouched since you placed it there years ago, a few pairs of earrings, and the gold chain your dad gave you the day you graduated nursing school. You slide the ring onto the chain. It rests underneath your shirt, near your heart.

You give Maria the box to distribute. You don’t tell her about the ring. It stays tucked under your shirt.

The night of Joel’s birthday, you reach for the last of the coffee beans pushed in the back of the cupboard. There’s something therapeutic about the movements- grinding the beans and boiling the water.

When you open the cupboard, the owl mug sits at the forefront. You freeze. You don’t know how it got there. It’s stayed pushed to the back since his death, but it makes you hold your breath. You despised that thing so much, but now you reach for it, filing it with coffee.

“Make enough for two?” Ellie says.

You spin around to find her sitting at the kitchen table. You smile weakly. “I can make it stretch.”

You know her disdain for it but say nothing, filling a second mug for her. The two of you sit in silence, steaming cups of coffee in front of you until Ellie gives up trying to choke it down. She pours the remainder of her mug into yours. You chuff, smile tipping your lips.

“I don’t know how that old man drank this shit.”

“Yeah, this isn’t great, but you know Joel.”

“Never saw him turn down a cup of coffee.”

“No, I don’t think he ever did.” You take another sip of coffee, eyes watering with unshed tears.

Ellie invites you to join her on a ride one day. You take her up on the offer. You ride side by side for most of the trek. It’s apparent she’s taking you somewhere.

“Ever been out this way?”

“Joel used to pull me out of Jackson from time to time. We spent time in the wildflower fields. Bugged the hell out of the council.” You laugh.

Ellie smiles. “And before?”

“I never got so far past this side of Jackson.”

“Something new to see,” Ellie says, excitedly then hesitates slightly. “Joel took me to a museum once for my birthday. They had a dinosaur and a space exhibit. He tracked down an old tape from one of the rocket launches. It was one of the best days of my life.”

“I remember when he found the museum. He couldn’t stop talking about how excited he was to show you.” you smile at the memory. “He talked about that day a lot. It was one of his favorites.”

Ellie pulls her horse to a stop and you follow suit. “He was really good at that, making sure there were good days.”

“He was.”

“I’m not sure how many good days are left for me in Jackson.”

Your heart skips a beat as you push down the panic rising in your chest. You can’t lose another person. “Oh?”

“Dina and I… we’ve been talking about what we want after the baby is born.”

You try to focus on her words, not the ringing in your ears. “Is that why you brought me out here?”

“I wanted to show you.” Ellie grins, kicking her horse forward.

You furrow your brow following after her. Your questions are answered as you burst into a clearing. An old farmhouse comes into view. It appears to be in relatively good condition. A partial fence circles widely around the property. It’s new.

You look over at Ellie who wears a look of pride and ownership over the small estate. “You did this?”

Ellie nods. “Dina and I are gonna move after the baby is born. I’ve been working to get the fence finished and the inside livable”

Tears prickle at the back of your eyes. There aren’t words for how you feel. You’re sad that Ellie won’t be across the street anymore, but you’re proud of her for carving out her own space in this world. She’s not far, you remind yourself. There’s something else about it tugging in your soul. Joel would love this place.

“You and Carter and Willa can come visit us anytime,” Elie says as if she can read your thoughts.

“Ellie, it’s amazing.”

She looks relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Now show me inside.”

The sun is setting as the settlement walls fade into view. You two spent too long at The Farm, you know it, but you hadn’t seen Ellie’s eyes light up like that in a long time. She is bouncing off the walls. It’s good to be out from behind the city walls.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Of course.”

“It’s just... ” Ellie bristles. “You’ve been quiet since we left.”

“Sorry, I’ve just been thinking.”

“Oh.”

You let it settle over the two of you for a while. “Joel always talked about finding a farm nearby. Getting out of the walls.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I did a shitty job of training other people to do my job. I didn’t feel like I could leave.”

Ellie nods.

“I asked him what kind of farm he wanted.” You smile at the memory. “He always said-”

“Sheep.” Ellie finishes. “Because they’re quiet and do what they’re told.”

You laugh. “Exactly.”

You’re back within the walls of Jackson as the sun dips behind the mountains. You walk down the streets side by side in silence. Ellie turns for her house.

“Ellie, I’m proud of you.” She stops in her tracks and turns around. Lights from the house sparkle off her eyes. “I don’t know if that means a lot coming from me-”

You’re cut off when she collides into your chest, arms squeezing you tight. You squeeze back. “Thank you.” It’s soft on her voice.

JJ is a few months old when Ellie and Dina move out to The Farm. You go out to visit them occasionally, sometimes with the kids and sometimes not. The first time you go alone, the wildflowers are in bloom. You take a 15-minute pitstop to collect yourself when you first spot them. You leave The Farm early to walk through the same wildflowers Joel used to take you to.

The breeze plays in your loose hair. You slip off your boots and let your toes curl into the unkempt ground. You see Joel’s smile in the Prairie Fire, hear his laugh in the Columbine.

Here, the familiar whisper behind your ear says.

You still wear the ring on your chain. It feels warm under your shirt. Unclasping it, you let the gold band fall into your palm. You slip the ring on your finger for the first time since you found it, and it stays there.

You pick a bouquet of wildflowers. They sit on your kitchen table for a week, and it feels like Joel hand-delivered them. Willa stares at them with her head cocked to the side, chin resting on the table. The tilt of her head reminds you of Joel. She has his soft curls that gather right at the bottom of her neck. The wonderment in her eyes reminds you of Sarah. You can’t help but kiss her head, let your fingers trail through her hair. His rings sparkles on your finger under the sun streaming through the window. You wonder if she feels the same draw toward the flowers that her dad did.

Willa smiles up at you. “Feels nice, mommy.” His Little Wildflower. She’s growing like a weed.

Carter struggles. He doesn’t talk. He spends most of his days in his bedroom. Joel always found a way to get him to talk, to smile. He may be the spitting image of his father- but it’s clear he got your temperament- your way of handling his feelings.

You take him to The Farm, just the two of you. He helps in the barn, rolls around with the sheep, and walks the fence line with Ellie for hours. You hear him laugh while you hold JJ on the front porch. Even though they don’t share blood with him, you see bits of Joel in both their mannerisms. They learned how to interact with the world from him.

Carter is excited when they get back. Ellie is going to teach him how to shoot next time you visit. You swallow back tears. Joel promised to teach him once he turned 10. Carter talks your ear off the whole way home.

Tommy still looks for leads on Abby. You pray he never finds one. Things between him and Maria are tense. Elias spends a lot of time at your house. Your worst fears are realized when Maria bangs on your front door at 6 am one morning. Tommy’s found a lead. He’s going to talk to Ellie.

You tear into Tommy in the middle of the street when he gets back that evening. “What the fuck are you thinking!?”

He brushes you off. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Like hell you are! How dare you bring Ellie back into this!” You’re a mama bear, fiercely protecting her cub. “You fucking asshole! Do you know how hard she’s worked to be okay?”

“She wants justice just as bad as I do!” You’re sure the whole town is watching from their windows, but you don’t care.

“This isn’t justice! It’s revenge!” You can’t push back the tears that come. Your family table can’t grow smaller. You can’t lose Tommy too. “Where does it fucking end? With us all in the ground? He wouldn’t have wanted this!”

“How can you say that?” Tommy gets in your face. It’s a scare tactic you’ve seen him use before. You don’t flinch. “That bitch took him from us! She made us slide that knife into his heart. She deserves it- and worse!”

“You will not drag my children into this, Tommy!”

“Did you really love him? Or was it all just-”

Your hand collides with his cheek before he can finish. “How dare you!” You’re shaking with rage. Tommy holds his cheek in his hand. “Joel would’ve wanted you here with your wife and son! He would’ve wanted us to keep having family dinners, and holidays together! He would’ve wanted us to live! Not just survive! I’m trying to live, Tommy! Because going back into survival would kill me! And it’ll do the same to Ellie!”

“If she doesn’t go, I go.” Tommy walks away.

You ride out to The Farm the next morning. Dina looks relieved when you climb the front porch stairs. Ellie is in her drawing room. She’s added more portraits since you were here last. They’re mostly Dina and JJ, but there’s one of Carter from his last visit, Willa from behind, Joel with his guitar on the porch, playing catch with Carter, dancing with Willa. All as clear as pictures. It hits you how much she observed, took in even when she looked in from a distance. The last one steals your breath for a minute. Two silhouettes dance on a front porch.

You have to swallow back the emotions before you speak. “I know Tommy was here yesterday.”

And then she cries in your arms. You brush her hair away from her face as she does. You make out limited information. The panic attacks keep coming. She can’t make them stop. She thinks this will make them stop. Your hands, so used to healing, feel useless.

With her head in your lap, she looks like that 14 year old girl you met years ago. “It’s not your fault, Ellie.”

She looks up at you through bloodshot eyes. “He would’ve never killed that doctor if it wasn’t for me.”

I would do it all again. It comes through so tangible. You repeat it to her. You tell her it’s not her fault. You tell her that Joel learned to live again because of her. You want the same thing for her. Don’t let vengeance overtake her. You want her to live life how it’s meant to be lived, not the violent cycle it’s turned into. Joel wants her to live.

Ellie stays on the farm with Dina and their son. She comes to see you in Jackson more often. All three of them do. The two of you talk about the day Joel died and what she saw. She finds out what helps her get through the panic attacks. It’s not easy, but they start to come less frequently.

Tommy goes after Abby. You feel like you lose another piece of Joel as his figure disappears into the tree line. You hold Maria as she cries. No one sees her cry but you. The roles are reversed, but you know how to give her support and comfort. You learned from the best.

I’m still here, Darlin. You have all of me.

You hear nothing from or of Tommy for months. It turns into years. Maria blames herself. She told him to not come back. Elias is getting into trouble at school. You’re all shocked when Tommy returns two years later. He moves into Joel’s house across the street. He never found her.

Maria and Tommy coexist. They both join family dinners. They co-parent Elias well, but they don’t reunite.

Life isn’t always easy, but you make it through, all of you. Most importantly, you experience life. The ups and downs, the twists and the turns, and you do it together because you’re family.

It’s the morning of Willa’s 16th birthday when you find it. A lump in your breast. Just 1 from what you can tell. You comb your mind for any other signs. None that you can recall. Maybe it’s benign. You push back the memories of your grandmother’s battle with breast cancer, but the tears still emerge.

I’ve got you. You swear you can almost feel Joel’s arms around you.

You don’t tell anyone. You spend more time outside the walls. You’ve trained up several people to provide medical care. Morgan can suture better than you. Sharon has steadier hands. Willa is already an expert herbalist, growing and cultivating medicinal herbs and plants. If something happens to you, Jackson will still have good medical care.

Joel seems closer than ever these days, like the veil between worlds is thinning. Sometimes you swear you see a flicker of him like a mirage in the wildflowers, or in the corner when the whole family is together. You were never sure what you thought about higher powers and the afterlife, but you’re sure there’s something there.

You find another lump two years later. A third shows up soon after. You start to notice other changes in your body. You’re tiring easier.

You’re more intentional about the time you spend with the kids. You make sure they know the stories they can’t remember. Carter teaches you how to shoot a bow. Willa teaches you about all the herbs in her greenhouse. You spend whole weeks at The Farm. It’s the end of summer when you know you have to start telling people. You tell Ellie while the two of you watch the sunset from the porch swing. She hugs you. There are tears, but there's peace to them.

You faint while on a walk with Maria at the start of September. You tell her, and then you tell the kids. It’s one of the hardest things you have to do. Even at 21 year old, Carter goes to stone as Willa cries in your arms.

You’re confined to your bed by Christmas. You sleep most of the day. Everyone comes for Christmas. Carter carries your shrinking frame to the couch. There’s laughter and jokes. You notice Maria’s hand in Tommy’s, but you don’t ask.

Joel catches your eye from the corner. He looks younger. In his early 40s or so, you think. He smiles at you. He’s never been so clear. He’s waiting for you.

You stop eating after Christmas. Your thoughts start to feel disjointed, words scratch at your throat and you can’t push them out. Breathing takes all your energy. Willa has extracted opium from poppies. It helps. You hear their voices filter in. Willa, Carter, Ellie, Dina, Maria, JJ, and finally Tommy. They talk to you, but you can’t respond. They reminisce. It brings comfort to you as you feel their voices slipping away until you can’t hear them anymore. It’s dark and silent.

When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by bright clear skies. The wind rustles through the wildflowers around you. A bird chirps in the distance. You stretch out your legs with the delectable sensation only available after a sun soaked nap.

You close your eyes again, you can see Jackson. Willa and Carter are bickering about something. They walk your evening path. Willa is giving Carter a hard time about his latest romantic encounter. You can see The Farm. Dina and Ellie sit on the front porch. JJ is doing his chores. It all feels so close, but you feel separate. You can see it all happening, walk through it with just a thought, but you can’t interact with the world.

There’s a deep chuckle in your ear. You turn your head. Joel lays next to you, a smile on his face. His hair is less gray than last time you saw him. The creases around his eyes aren’t as deep.

His hand touches yours. It’s warm. You’ve passed to the other side of the veil. Your heart leaps.

“Hey Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Tag List: @pedrotonin@amyispxnk@joeldjarin@ilovepedro@justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981@jessthebaker@annieispunk@ashleyfilm@moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer@lizzie-cakes@hiroikegawa

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #woman (joel miller)#joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro stories #pedrostories

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604to647 · 6 months ago

Text

Barón Tovar Takes a Wife

Second Movement (Allegretto)

6K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story

Summary: Pero continues to be a source of encouragement and support as you navigate the marriage mart.

Warnings: Some pining and light angst. Soft!Pero warning. Liberal use of Bridgerton characters and canon.

A/N: I'm sorry for any historical inaccuracies/liberties taken! Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Series Masterlist 🎼 First Movement 🎼

You think you should have been warned that the days following season events are somehow always busier than the events themselves.

The morning after the Danbury ball, with hardly enough sleep and exhausted almost to the point of delirium, you find yourself yawning through Daphne’s chipper recitation of your schedule for the next few days. You must have agreed to it all while inhaling your breakfast, because you’re now dressed in a prim and proper powder blue frock, sitting prettily in the Bridgerton’s upstairs drawing room, waiting for what feels like the millionth young man you must have met last night to make your reacquaintance. Although there was no one who had caught your attention particularly at last night’s ball, you do recall several gentlemen being very pleasant and look forward to getting to know them better. Every visitor and potential suitor that waits for your audience today is afforded your full consideration and open heart, even if you are still very, very tired. And though the conversation gets repetitive and the gifts are slightly impersonal, you appreciate everyone’s efforts and invite them to return all the same.

---

It’s well after lunch by the time Pero steps into the front hall of Bridgerton House and is shown into the waiting room where he finds you and all the Bridgerton women in various states of exhaustion, draped over chaise lounges and chairs, while the Bridgerton men chat merrily and sample from various boxes of candies and treats that had been brought as offerings by your, Eloise and Francesca’s suitors this morning.

“Pero!” Though you are delighted to see him, you’re so worn out, all you can muster is a small wave. You return the bemused expression he has on his face as he takes in the room and the collection of gifts and offerings piled high with a soft smile of your own.

“No peonies,” Pero observes readily.

Daphne chirps, “No, but lots and lots of flowers. Expensive ones.”

“But peonies are your favourite,” he says pointedly to you. You nod, heart swelling with fondness, “You remembered!”

“Of course, Dulce, I remember everything about you.” You feel warm at his affectionate tone; you remember everything about Pero as well, but would never have expected him to do the same.

“How did this morning go?”

The Duchess answers for you and runs through the list of suitors that called on you this morning, including tidbits on their pedigrees or impressive accomplishments. Pero half listens as he looks over the table of gifts; refusing a biscuit when Benedict extends a box in his direction, he murmurs, “Busy morning.”

You and the women nod. Eloise yawns. Francesca closes her eyes. You sigh.

Pero kneels before you, comforting hand on your leg, “What’s the matter, Dulce?”

Sighing again, but this time a little less weary, “I don’t know? I suppose it’s that there was no spark. I didn’t spark with anyone.”

Daphne is quick to reassure you, “It can take time! Simon and I did not spark right away. In fact, we hated each other. But as we spent time together, our feelings emerged.”

You nod in comprehension, but joke, amiably, “Well now I do not know if it’s a good thing then that I did not hate anyone either.” When you see Pero still looking at you with an apologetic expression, you smile sheepishly, “You must think me very naïve.”

“No, not naïve. Very, very sweet, and even romantic. There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful, Dulce.”

Nodding gratefully at Pero, he smiles when he sees that you’re taking solace in his words and decides now is a good time to produce a tin from behind his back that you hadn’t notice he was holding, “I know you have received a lot gifts already and the day itself has been quite overwhelming. Perhaps you do not have the energy for one more?”

There’s something familiar about the container Pero is holding out to you; when you open it and see the delicate wafer cookies contained within, you’re instantly transported to a small Italian bakery that you and Pero used to visit daily in Florence. “Oh Pero,” you breathe, your eyes bright.

“I was in Florence recently and could not help but revisit our old haunt. Did you know Signor Russo is still there? I’m embarrassed by how many tins I purchased. I remembered last night they used to be your favourite and it just so happened that I had one tin left in my luggage,” grins Pero; all he has wanted to do since he said good night to you after the ball, is to draw out the smile that’s currently on your face.

“Thank you so much, Pero,” you close your eyes and hum in contentment as the familiar sweet flavour washes over your tongue. “This is the best thing I received today,” you grin, “May I share?”

“Of course,” Pero isn’t the least bit surprised by your display of generosity and he watches with satisfaction as you excitedly pass around the tin to your friends, sharing with them its origins and small snippets of the time in your life when these cookies were a daily treat.

Invigorated by the nostalgic treat, you and Pero spend the remainder of the afternoon catching up and recalling fond memories of your childhood together. You learn that after completing his studies, Pero embarked on the customary grand tour before returning to Spain to help his father with the Tovar estate. Subsequent to his father’s passing, at his King’s insistence he resumed his father’s former diplomatic duties and has spent the last five years travelling under the same charge previously entrusted to the old Barón. When you tell Pero about the many places you have travelled with your father since you saw him last, you delight in the discovery that you’ve been to many of the same places, sometimes missing each other by only weeks. Your never-ending conversation comparing new and old favourite discovered delicacies and sights runs all the way until dinner; you can’t remember the last time you’ve had so much fun just talking.

It’s exactly what you had wanted to do since the moment you saw Pero last night at the Danbury Ball. Your grateful heart overflows with joy that you’ve been allowed the grace of closing out this whirlwind twenty-four hours in the laughter-filled, carefree manner that can only be possible when catching up with an old friend.

When you enter the Ramsbury Ball the following week it’s with Pero as one of your party. His inclusion the most natural thing given that he’s become a regular fixture at Bridgerton House, often joining Colin in the morning for breakfast and returning in the afternoon to check in on how you’re doing and how the day’s suitors have treated you.

You can hardly express your appreciation at having your old friend’s support while you endeavour on the daunting undertaking of your first social season. Though you remain a popular fixture among the ton, you must admit that socializing so much does not come without effort, being used to much quieter and calmer company. It does not escape you how lucky you are to have a group of friends and supporters such as Pero and the Bridgertons with whom you can momentarily relax and jovially chat in between dances and some of the more awkward attempts at flirting by your suitors.

“Wait, wait!” laughs Colin, “You mean to tell us that you were actually there when our good Barón got his scar? Please, pray tell, how did it happen? I have tried in vain to get Tovar to reveal his dark secret!”

Pero catches your eye and you see his own twinkle in mischief. “I’m afraid my lips are sealed,” you proclaim, falling easily into conspiracy with your friend, “and on any account, the tale is not suitable for polite society.”

Eloise, Colin and Benedict all groan and try various tactics to convince you to give up your story, but to no avail. You simply will not tell them that the fearsome scar over Pero’s left eye is the result of a boy falling off the dock after running too vigorously towards the lunch bell and slipping on a wet fish. Though you can laugh about it now, at the time you had been scared witless when the sailors from your father’s fleet lifted Pero’s wet, limp body from the water; you had cried by his bedside all three nights he was unconscious, praying he would be alright. Even now, Pero remembers the force with which you had punched him in his uninjured shoulder when he woke, scolding him for scaring you so and making him promise never to do it again.

Later, when you’re once again gliding across the dance floor in Pero’s comfortable but firm hold, he grins down at you, “Thank you, Dulce, for keeping my secret and upholding my reputation as a dastardly rogue.”

“My pleasure! Have you been telling people that your scar is the result of some great feat of bravery? Perhaps you fought off five pirates in order to protect the virtue of a young maiden?”

Pero laughs, “Sadly my imagination is not as inventive as yours. I have simply been saying the details of the incident are difficult for me to recall.”

You nod, knowingly, “Ah yes, on account of all the injuries sustained.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I will be sure to drop enough vague hints to satiate their curiosity and raise you in their esteem.”

“Thank you, Dulce,” Pero says, amused as always by your good humour.

But you haven’t finished teasing, “... and perhaps they will be more forgiving of when you are dull, if they understand that you suffered a great many head injuries in your past.”

“Why you…”

Luckily for you, the dance requires you to spin away from Pero at this exact moment so you never hear what he says; by the time you turn back into his arms, he has already forgiven you – he’s never been truly upset with you before and has no plans to start now. As the two of you continue to dance, your happy banter floats over the quickness of your steps and the laughter Pero pulls from you rings loud and clear across the dance floor.

---

Pero watches as you dance yet another dance with some seemingly upstanding gentleman from the ton. A Lord something-something-shire. Though he stands stiffly next to Benedict, scowling, inwardly he smiles and admires your graceful form. You really have grown up to be a lovely, beautiful young lady, and yet – he finds in many ways, you’re hardly changed from the spirited, kind, and funny girl he knew in his youth. You’re elegant and poised, but even as you extend your arm to your partner, the lilt of your fingers denote a playfulness that he remembers, something he does not observe in the other girls of the ton. When not dancing, your pretty smile and witty remarks, coupled with the way your entire being lights up during the energetic story telling of one of your anecdotes, charms the entire room. He’s exceptionally proud of you.

Still, he can tell you’re holding back, that you’re not entirely comfortable to be yourself in this setting. Perhaps it’s modesty that begs you not to draw the attention of the entire room. Or you’re following some outdated tutelage to conform with the subdued formality of such events. All he knows is that to him, you’re radiant, a beacon of light, but he has yet to see you unleash the full extent of your charisma on the ton.

A weird, inexplicable part of him is glad that you don’t. Something in him oddly akin to possessiveness wants to remain the only man at these events that knows you the way he does; knowing the depth of your wry humour, your never yielding compassion, and your unique perspective on the wide world that only a handful of people in this room have seen. This same part of him leads him to spend most of the balls and societal events with his face set in a deep, glowering frown, standing apart from the other members of the ton, needing to be alone in order to wrestle with his thoughts.

Since the day following the Danbury Ball, Pero has brought you a single stemmed peony every single day, reasoning that if nothing else, you will have at least one of your favourite flower if none of your suitors sends any. You come to look forward to the quiet meditative minutes you spend carefully clipping and arranging your one peony every day; it’s as if Pero has not only given you the flower, but also permission to take some relaxing time to yourself amidst the hustle and bustle of your social obligations. By the time the Somerset House Gallery viewing arrives, you have yourself a fairly impressive bouquet that brings you peace and joy every time you look at it.

As usual, Pero joins your group for the outing, but to your surprise, Eloise does not. The reason for this is soon clear when Colin announces that he will be escorting Penelope Featherington as part of your party today. You haven’t broached the topic with Eloise, but it’s clear that something has happened between the two women. For as long as you can remember, Eloise and Penelope were thick as thieves, the very best of friends – when she thinks no one is watching, you’ve seen how this rift has affected her, but you can also tell Eloise would rather not discuss it.

Although you do not know her as well as you do the Bridgertons, Penelope has always seemed to be a lovely and friendly type of person. Spending the afternoon with her today, you find her to also be witty and observant, direct in her comments and transparent in her thoughts and feelings as your group wanders through the galleries and enjoys the art on display. Periodically, a friend of the Bridgertons or a suitor will join your small group as you move from piece to piece, making small talk and asking you or Francesca what you thought of this painting or that.

When your party gathers around the refreshments table, Mr. Barnett, a young man you recall dancing with once at a recent ball, joins the conversation and remarks that the entire event is too dull for his tastes.

Met with polite but awkward looks and a light scoff from the Duchess, he apologies and tries to explain himself, “I simply mean that a sporting event, say a boxing match might provide more excitement than simply standing around and looking at pictures. Although, I’m sure, Miss Featherington, you and your family might find this banality preferable to the type of action that typically surrounds the boxing ring.”

You’re absolutely shocked. Even having not returned to London for several years, you had heard the rumours surrounding the late Lord Featherington’s untimely death. Although certainly scandalous, as far as you knew, it was all speculation and you can’t imagine any reason to bring it up in polite conversation, never mind the gall of doing so directly to the poor deceased man’s daughter.

Colin looks murderous, his hands flexing, clearly battling himself on how he’d like to handle the situation without creating too much of a scene. Next to him, Pero glares menacingly at Mr. Barnett, ready to follow his friend’s lead and provide whatever backup is necessary.

Your candy laced voice snaps all three men back to the present, “I’m honestly so astonished, where do the men find their courage nowadays?” directing the question at Mr. Barnett who perks up at your attention. You continue, all smiles, “For the life of me, I don’t think I could ever be brave enough to voice a thought like that out loud.” Mr. Barnett turns bright red and mumbles something that sounds like “Right,” before bowing slightly and scampering away. Pero finds himself smirking and filled with pride. He remembered this viper-tongued hidden side of yours – you, who was always so sweet and good-natured, but irrevocably intolerant of cruelty or injustice.

Once in a small town in Greece, he had watched you chase away a group of boys bigger than you who had been stealing candy from a local girl, with nothing more than the ferocious spitting of admonishments and a small stick. That the bullies probably didn’t even understand a word of English did not apparently leave your harsh rebukes lost in translation; the fury in your face and the conviction in the stance of your small frame doing all the talking for you. After comforting the little girl, you had then given her all your candy and seen her safely home. Later when Pero had offered to buy you more candy, you had been surprised that he knew you had run out, embarrassed he had witnessed your display of ferocity. That was the day he bestowed the nickname “Dulce” on you, telling you as he refilled your candy bag that he was proud of you; the same way he’s proud of you now.

Unsurprisingly, Penelope excuses herself shortly after and when Colin follows her, your group breaks apart and you end up walking through the gallery with just Pero. You wait as long as you can, making sure you’re out of earshot of others before putting your heads together the way only close confidants do, recounting what had happened.

“The audacity of that man, if he can even call himself that!” you practically hiss, still so incensed at the lack of civility that you had been witness to.

Pero chuckles, he’s always quite liked it when you would get riled up and vent to him; it was like watching a soft kitten bare its claws, “Well you certainly put him in his place, Dulce.”

Sighing, you certainly hope so, “I hope Penelope is alright. And I hope Mr. Barnett at least has enough sense not to approach her ever again.”

“Well, if he does, I’m sure he will have plenty to contend with, including another fearsome tongue lashing by the prettiest lady of the season.” While you feel your cheeks flush at his compliment, Pero continues, “My guess is that you won’t be seeing him in the suitors line at Bridgerton House.”

You laugh and roll your eyes, “Pity.”

“But what if he would have brought you peonies, Dulce?” teases Pero.

You take Pero’s arm, leading him back to a painting you’ve been wanting to revisit, “I’d throw the bouquet at his head. Besides, I already receive the most beautiful peonies from someone I actually want to spend time with. You can tell the men of the ton that peonies are taken, they need to find their own flower.” You chuckle cheerfully and Pero finds that the sound lands deep in his chest and makes his heart expand.

If you thought the Italian cookies or the peonies were thoughtful gifts, Pero renders you absolutely speechless when he presents you with a breathtaking necklace before the Crawford Ball. When he sees you, he’s secretly pleased that the necklace will compliment the cream gown that you’ve chosen for the evening, but he also can’t help but notice the way it shapes to your curves and accentuates your pretty features. He waits with bated breath as you open the black velvet box and triumphs at your gasp and the way your eyes grow wide as you lift the delicate ruby necklace from its soft resting place.

“Oh Pero, are these…?” you whisper, so full of awe and disbelief that you’re unable to finish your sentence. It’s not often that something or someone renders you speechless.

“The rubies from India?” he finishes for you softly, “Yes, they are.”

Your eyes shine bright at the recognition of the rubies that had been gifted to Pero’s father by Indian dignitaries; when you were younger, you were so entranced by their beauty that you would often ask the old Barón to show them to you, and the kind hearted man had always indulged you with a chuckle.

“May I?” asks Pero gently, and you turn to let Pero drape the necklace around your neck, letting it rest delicately over your collar bones before he clasps it securely. Hand gingerly touching the precious jewels you turn to Pero, still stunned, “Pero, this is too much.”

“Nonsense,” he smiles generously, “it always amused Father how much joy these rubies brought you. I think he would have loved to see you wearing them.” Your eyes well up with emotion, remember the gentle man whose sweetness you see shining so brightly and clearly in his son before you.

That night, when your necklace attracts the inevitable compliments, Pero watches with a full heart as you proudly talk about his father with love and generosity, regaling your admirers with tales of the far-off lands where you knew the man who raised him best. Unavoidably, heads would turn in his direction during your stories, and Pero finds himself grimacing at the attention; choosing to turn away and move out of your audience’s line of sight to somewhere where he can once again admire you from afar in peace.

It doesn’t escape the ton’s notice that Pero only ever dances with you at balls; though your dance card is always full, the second and sometimes even third dance are permanently reserved for him. Your smile is the brightest for him and ever present whether you’re together, on the dance floor or off. There is no politeness or restraint with the two of you, only lively and animated conversation - the cheerful and melodic harmony of your joint laughter often carrying above the noise of the room. He only ever smiles for you.

In between dances, if you’re not engaging in small talk with other young ladies or your suitors, you can always be found chatting happily with Pero and the Bridgertons; the other ball goers looking over in jealousy that your little corner of friends might actually dare to enjoy yourselves at an event meant for the very serious business of finding husbands.

Mornings at Bridgerton House include the usual parade of suitors waiting with gifts and flowers to have an audience with you or Francesca, and to Eloise’s extreme mortification, sometimes her as well. If he doesn’t stay after breakfast, Pero generally arrives mid-morning to visit with Colin, but spends the majority of his time scowling at the young men waiting patiently in line, making no secret of the fact he’s scrutinizing them as he passes by.

The Duchess cannot decide if the Barón is a help or a hinderance to your marriage prospects. On one hand, his fearsome glower and imposing figure have been enough to scare off any potential suitor who either had less than honourable designs on your fortune, or, via consensus with the Bridgerton brothers, was deemed to be a rake, or worse. On the other hand, it was clear to any person with eyes that the two of you have a deep friendship - your company the only one he sought out, and his always cheerfully received by you. Daphne could only imagine that it might intimidate even the most strong-willed, unwavering of suitors. She wonders if any of your suitors ever question if your friendship with Pero masked a deeper affection between the two of you; she herself having started to wonder the same.

Convincing herself that it’s for your ultimate well-being, she endeavours to talk to the Barón about it.

The morning after the Crawford Ball, when the line of suitors is the longest its ever been, Daphne waits for Pero to make his usual appearance mid-morning, and when he is seen in, she’s already anticipating him at the bottom of the stairs. After he greets her courteously, she asks, “Barón Tovar, may I please request a moment of your time? There is something with which I need your assistance.”

Following the Duchess into a room off the main hall, Pero asks with curiosity, “What may I do for you, your Grace?”

Daphne starts by thanking him for his support during the season, acknowledging that his presence has meant so much to you and helped you tremendously in conquering any nerves you may have had about debuting.

“Of course. The pleasure has genuinely been all mine; it sometimes feels almost unbelievable that it has been over ten years since we last saw each other. I have found it remarkably easy to fall into old patterns.”

“Yes, it is evident that the two of you are very close,” Daphne hopes that her comment comes out as the compliment she intends while at the same time hinting to Pero why she may have asked to speak to him in the first place.

Countenance faltering a little but still keeping his tone kind, Pero queries, “Is there something you wish to ask me, your Grace?”

Daphne decides from the limited time she’s known Pero that he is the type of person to appreciate transparency and directness, and so she ask with what she hopes is an impassive look on her face, “Do you intend to court her, my Lord?”

Pero nearly stutters, so caught off guard by the question. He contemplates the implication of the Duchess having asked this question, and then, more seriously, his answer; after a few moments of silence, Pero responds truthfully, “No.”

Daphne nods in response, “I see, my Lord. Please do excuse me for asking what you may have found to be an impertinent question.”

“Not at all, your Grace. I rest easy at night confident that you always have your friend’s best interests at heart.”

Daphne nods, “Yes, always. That is my highest priority. Please consider with me: if I have wondered, do you think it is possible that some suitors and potential suitors have pondered the same question?”

And there it is, a perfectly reasonable question that Pero knows if he were to answer, would expose a part of his heart that he’s been keeping hidden, maybe even from himself. Pero was telling the truth when he said he would not court you, but he is not so selfish to wish to keep you from another if he cannot have you for his own. Truthfully, he is aware that he presents an intimidating and imposing figure, the mettle of which might scare off any number of gentlemen interested in pursuing you.

“I should step back,” he announces abruptly and with finality.

“No, no!” protests Daphne, “I do not think that is necessary! Your presence and attendance with us at the season’s events have been most welcomed and to be honest, a comfort.”

“I do not wish to do more harm then good, though,” Pero says, resigned, “If my presence deters someone who might be her match, I could never forgive myself.”

Again, though Daphne has only known Pero for a short period of time, she somehow knows that he’s made up his mind, and that even she, a Duchess, does not have the power to change it. Pero thanks her for all her continued kindness and attention towards you and bids her goodbye with a bow. Heading to leave out the front door, he looks up, as if looking through to the drawing room where you’re currently sitting, one last time before exiting Bridgerton House with a heavy heart.

You haven’t seen Pero in a week and a half and you’re worried sick about him. He hasn’t been by Bridgerton House at all and he missed the Trowbridge Ball last week. He, of course, does not owe you a tally of his coming and goings, but you feel unsettled at having not seen him for such an extended period of time after having seen him nearly every day for the past two months. Your days, though full of engagements, feels empty when he doesn’t make an appearance. You miss him. You miss his gentle teasing, his reassuring presence and the way only he can make you laugh. You have not really laughed in nearly ten days.

You convince Eloise to show you how to sneak out and traverse the alleys that run behind the houses of the square safely and quickly, the way you know she used to in order to visit Penelope, so you can secretly pop down the street to check in on Pero one evening.

You follow Eloise’s instructions exactly as you hurry along the pathways that weave behind the grand houses and it takes you only five minutes to reach the house Pero is staying at. Standing in the small courtyard, you spot one window with a light on; hoping Pero is in the lit room, you find a few stones on the ground and launch them upwards. Your aim could be better, but you do manage to hit your target a few times, ricocheting a few stones against the glass with the lightest of clinks. When you see Pero’s face appear in the window, you’re more than relieved – he doesn’t look so ill that he can’t move about and that’s good news. You wave at his confused face and watch as he leaves the window; it’s a minute before the back door opens, “Dulce, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Pero is looking around into the courtyard, concerned for why you would appear at his door in the middle of the night, alone.

“I could be asking you the same thing, Pero! I am so relieved to see you up and about, I’ve been so worried about you!”

Pero melts a little at the concern written across your face, “Me? Why?”

“I haven’t heard from you in… well, it has been ten days now! You haven’t been by Bridgerton House, Colin did not know where you were, and you missed the last ball! I thought you must have taken ill!” your voice sounding a little shrill as your finish in a huff, as if why you might be worried was the most obvious thing in the world.

Pero laughs a little at your theatrics and his jovial manner makes you laugh as well, “I am very glad that you are not. I mean, you’re not ill, are you?”

“No, I am not, Dulce. Thank you for being worried about me.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “You are very welcome. Well! Now that I am convinced you’re not at Death’s door, may I ask where you’ve been? Why have you not come to see me?”

Pero scratches the back of his neck and looks mildly uncomfortable, “I had some business to take care of over the last few days that took up a lot of my time.”

“Oh! Well, I hope it has all been settled to your satisfaction!”

“It has.”

You’re glad for him, “Good. Then things will be back to normal? You will be able to come to the Queen’s Luncheon this week?”

“I do not think so, Dulce,” his chest tightens a little at the way your face falls, “I think it is probably better if I stay away for a while. I don’t think I am helping your marriage prospects very much.”

You’re so confused, what does Pero have to do with your marriage prospects? “Pero, I’m not sure what you mea-” but you’re cut off from finishing your thought when you hear a distinctively feminine laugh ring out from inside the house, followed closely by a response from a second, also feminine voice.

Your hands fly to your mouth to cover your gasp of shock upon realizing that Pero has company. Female company. And for some inexplicable reason, your eyes start to fill with tears, “Oh Pero, I’m so sorry! I did not realize you were not alone! I am so sorry to interrupt!”

You’re babbling and you’re not sure why nor can you seem to stop yourself, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” It’s not from embarrassment. You’ve known Pero far too long to be embarrassed by anything with him; the two of you have always been able comfortable enough with each other to laugh off most things. No, this is something else - an uncomfortable, sharp feeling right in the middle of your chest, “I just thought you were sick and I am so very glad you’re not. I’ll go now! I am sorry, so sorry!” You fight back tears as you turn and flee back to Bridgerton House.

Eloise is waiting for you as she promised she would; she freezes when she sees your tear-stained face but to her credit, doesn’t pry – she just asks if you are okay and ushers you back into the house when you nod. By the time you’re tucked into bed and your lights have been blown out, you’ve been able to name the dreadful feeling that’s made a home in your heart. It’s devastation. You’re devastated. And plenty confused and angry at yourself for feeling that way! It’s selfish, you think, selfish and childish. You have become so accustomed to being the only woman Pero ever paid attention to, you realize that you had somehow come to think of him as yours, and having been confronted tonight with the fact that he decidedly is not, you’re now feeling foolish and plunging headfirst into a sense of loss for something that was never yours in the first place.

But… was that all it was? No, it wasn’t. You had liked it. You liked being the only one he danced with. The only one who he seemed to smile for. The only one who could make him laugh. Oh, his laugh. Deep and booming - you lived for the way it shook all the way from his belly and crinkled the little lines around his eyes. You harboured pride in being the only one who could pull it from him and you liked all the other ways that his countenance would seemingly soften just for you. He made you feel special and so worthy.

And that wasn’t the only way he did so. He was so thoughtful and considerate; remembering even the littlest things about you: what you liked, what brought you joy. He knew you so very well; always knowing the exact thing they would make your heart sing and taking every opportunity to do so.

You think about how Pero had let you lean on him this entire season - every request for reassurance or support met with kindness and words of praise for your wit, your mind, your sweet nature that you couldn’t help but believe based solely on the earnest and genuine expression in his eyes.

He had been there every step of the way with you, shouldering some of the pressure of the season so you wouldn’t have to; being your reprieve and relief, a shelter where you could laugh loudly and unabashedly be yourself.

He made you feel free and cared for.

And Lord, was he handsome. Closing your eyes, you think of the distinct slope of his nose and the strong cut of his jaw, covered in that scruff of his - unkempt but somehow still so distinguished. You think of Pero’s deep brown eyes that would fleck with gold when he laughed, and wonder how you haven’t fallen into them every time he looked at you. And his hair. Oh, his hair. Your fingers actually itch just thinking about the soft curls that frame his face so perfectly; how you wish you could run your hands through them.

The thought that there is another woman who might be doing exactly that right now shatters your heart so completely.

You love him. The realization is both a relief and a complete shock to your system.

The unexpected admission to yourself that you’re in love with Pero, followed closely by the certainty that your feelings are undoubtedly unrequited, is a one-two punch to your heart.

You cry and cry until sleep overtakes you.

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#regency!pero tovar #pero tovar #bridgerton au #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #no y/n

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