#not able to know about her life. if she is okay. if her heart is recovering. if her mind is not killing her. is part of the punishment too
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Thinking about Arcane with a partner who is terminally ill and has to stay in bed hooked up to a bunch of needles and tubes
Thank you for all your work you are amazing <3
Thank you so much for your kind words!
I swear we are allergic to happiness-
Jinx
Jinx hides her pain behind manic energy, trying to make you smile even when it feels like her heart is shattering. She brings you handmade gadgets, some of which are purely for fun—tiny robots that dance or explode into colorful sparks, filling the room with chaos and laughter. But when the exhaustion hits, she curls up beside your bed, her fingers tracing the tubes and needles with a quiet reverence. In those moments, her vulnerability surfaces, and she whispers about her fears of losing you.
Vi
Vi hates feeling powerless, and seeing you like this is her worst nightmare. She refuses to leave your side, bringing you books and stories of her past to keep your mind off the pain. Her hands are always gentle when adjusting your blanket or holding yours, but her emotions often spill over. When no one else is around, she breaks down, pressing her forehead against your arm, her tears soaking into the fabric as she begs you to hold on just a little longer.
Sevika
Sevika is practical, channeling her pain into action. She spends hours ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible, fixing equipment when it malfunctions and running errands for anything you need. At night, when she thinks you’re asleep, she sits by your bed, nursing a drink and talking to you like everything’s normal—about work, about Zaun, about how much she admires your strength. If you catch her in a rare moment of vulnerability, she’ll brush it off, saying, “You’re the tough one here, not me.”
Silco
Silco is a man of control, and your condition reminds him of his helplessness. He spares no expense in seeking the best care for you, but he’s always haunted by the sight of you so frail. His visits are quiet but full of unspoken devotion—he reads reports aloud, his voice calm and steady, though his eyes flicker to your face more often than the papers. Late at night, when no one else is around, he gently brushes your hair back and murmurs promises he knows he might not be able to keep.
Vander
Vander is a steady presence, his warmth grounding you even in your worst moments. He sits by your bed, holding your hand as he tells you stories from his youth or hums a soothing tune. He often brings the children by to cheer you up, their laughter filling the room. Vander tries to stay strong for you, but his hands tremble when he thinks you’re not looking. His love is unwavering, and he’ll remind you every day how much you mean to him.
Ekko
Ekko struggles with the weight of seeing you like this, but he refuses to let despair take over. He spends his time crafting small inventions to make your life easier or bring a smile to your face. When the silence becomes too much, he talks about his dreams for the future, painting vivid pictures of what could be. He clings to hope, even when it feels fragile, and does everything in his power to make sure you know you’re not alone.
Jayce
Jayce throws himself into researching treatments, convinced he can find a way to help you. When he’s not in the lab, he’s by your side, his hand resting over yours as he explains his latest breakthroughs or reminisces about the moments you’ve shared. He hides his fear behind his optimism, but when you tell him it’s okay to let go of the facade, he breaks down, resting his head on your shoulder and letting his tears fall freely.
Viktor
Viktor is no stranger to pain and illness, and he understands your struggles on a deeply personal level. He spends hours at your bedside, quietly tinkering with gadgets or reading aloud from books he thinks you’ll enjoy. His touch is gentle, his words soft, and his presence unwavering. He hates that he can’t fix this, but he makes sure you never feel alone, offering comfort in the form of quiet companionship and shared understanding.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn is your pillar of strength, calm and composed even when her heart is breaking. She works tirelessly to ensure you have the best care, pulling strings and calling in favors to get you what you need. She’s a constant presence, her hand often resting on yours as she talks about the world outside. When she’s overwhelmed, she steps outside for a moment to compose herself, returning with a renewed determination to make the time you have left as meaningful as possible.
Mel Medarda
Mel is a force of grace and composure, but your condition shakes her to her core. She fills your room with beauty—art, flowers, and soft fabrics—to make your space a sanctuary. She sits with you for hours, her voice soothing as she shares stories from her childhood or discusses philosophy and politics. Her mask only slips in the quiet moments, her hand lingering on yours as she murmurs about how much she loves you, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa is not one to show weakness, but your illness makes her feel a vulnerability she hasn’t known in years. She takes charge of your care, ensuring you’re surrounded by the best physicians and resources. Though her visits are often brief, they’re filled with quiet intensity. She sits by your bed, her large hand covering yours as she promises to protect you, her voice steady even as her heart aches.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie is practical and nurturing, spending her days by your side to ensure you’re comfortable and cared for. She’s always quick with a joke or a story to lift your spirits, her warmth a balm against the cold reality of your condition. But when the laughter fades and the room grows quiet, she leans her head against your shoulder, her voice soft as she tells you how much you mean to her, her heart aching with every word.
Lest
Lest hates seeing you like this, but she channels her emotions into quiet devotion. She watches over you like a guardian, her sharp eyes scanning every tube and needle to ensure everything is in order. She often sits beside your bed, her tail curling around her legs as she talks about the world outside, filling the silence with her soothing voice. When you catch her staring at you with a mix of love and sorrow, she quickly looks away, her ears twitching, but her hand remains firmly in yours.
#arcane x reader#x reader#arcane imagine#arcane headcanon#jinx arcane#arcane vi#character x reader#jinx x reader#vi arcane#arcane#lest arcane#ambessa league of legends#mel merdada#maddie x reader#maddie arcane#mel medarda#silco x reader#arcane silco#sevika imagine#sevika x reader#arcane sevika#arcane ekko#ekko x reader#jayce x reader#victor arcane#arcane vander#viktor x reader#arcane caitlyn
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Through the Storm
You had always hated storms. Not the ones outside—the crashing thunder and relentless rain were oddly comforting—but the ones that raged inside your mind. They brewed at inconvenient times, bringing doubt, anxiety, and an unbearable weight you could never fully describe. Being with Leah had always been your calm in the chaos, but lately, even she felt like a ship lost in the swell.
The rift started small—a disagreement over her schedule, a misunderstanding about a missed call. Leah was always busy. Between her training sessions and commitments to the England squad, it sometimes felt like you were just another appointment she pencilled in. You tried not to let it bother you, and at first it worked, but as time passed, you could not push down your frustration. Your feelings no longer simmered under the surface but started bubbling over at the worst moments.
It all came to a head one night after her return from an away game. You hadn’t seen her in weeks, nor had you been able to call her, and while you wanted to savour her presence, the frustration you’d been holding in came spilling out instead.
"You’re never here, Leah," you said, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness. "I get that football’s your life, but am I even part of it anymore?"
She stood in the doorway, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, exhaustion painted across her face. "Of course, you are," she replied, her tone sharp with defensiveness. "You think I don’t miss you when I’m gone? You think this is easy for me?"
"Well, it doesn’t feel like it," you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. "You come home, and it’s like… I’m just a stopover before the next big thing. Like I’m not enough."
Leah dropped her bag and stepped closer, but you turned away, wiping your eyes furiously. "Don’t say that," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You’re everything to me."
"Then why doesn’t it feel like it?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Leah stood frozen, her eyes searching yours for something she couldn’t find. Those eyes which had pulled you into a ban so long ago and now were tormenting you. "I don’t know how to fix this," she admitted, her voice barely audible.
And just like that, the storm between you grew too wild to tame. Leah left that night, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of rain pounding against the window.
The days that followed were agonizing. Leah texted you sporadically, but the messages felt hollow, as though she was trying to bridge a gap that words alone couldn’t mend. You left most of them unanswered, unsure of what to say—or if you even wanted to.
Until one night, a week later, when your phone buzzed with a message that was different from the rest.
Leah: I’m outside. Please, just… let me talk.
You hesitated, your heart battling between wanting to see her and wanting to stay angry. But the thought of her standing outside in the cold, waiting for you, tugged at your resolve. With a sigh, you grabbed a coat and opened the door.
Leah was there, drenched from the rain, her usually confident demeanour replaced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard. That reminded you of times long past. She looked at you with those piercing eyes, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
"I know I’ve hurt you," she began, her voice steady but soft. "And I’ve spent the past week trying to figure out how to make it right. But the truth is, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that I can’t lose you."
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each word. "Leah… I just feel so invisible sometimes. Like you’re here, but not really here. As if I am just another appointment, a chore."
She nodded, stepping closer. "I know. And you’re right—I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve let football take over everything, and I thought… I thought you’d be okay with that because you’re so strong. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking you for granted."
Her words hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying. Leah reached for you, hesitating for a split second before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, the warmth of her embrace cutting through the chill of the rain.
"I’m sorry," she whispered into your hair. "For everything. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough, because you are. You’re more than enough. You’re my everything."
You pulled back just enough to look at her, her face inches from yours. "I don’t need you to have all the answers," you said quietly. "I just need to know that you’re willing to try."
Leah nodded, her expression serious. "I’ll try every day for the rest of my life, if that’s what it takes."
Her lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant, as if she were asking for permission to fix what had been broken. You kissed her back, the storm inside you finally beginning to settle.
The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again. Leah was here, and so were you—together, ready to weather whatever came next.
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ೀ⋆。 ˚ TIME TO BEGIN AGAIN remus lupin x fem!reader
summary: after the death of lily & james, reader and remus navigate their broken relationship while raising harry potter.
gif not mine, credits to the creator <3
warning: sad & angsty but there is a happy ending! idiots in love?? talks of death and grief, past miscommunication, hurt/comfort, friend to lovers, fade to black at the very end but nothing explicit!
( word count : 1.89k )
Silver moonlight bled through the windows, illuminating the tears on her cheeks and setting one-year-old Harry Potter’s eyes ablaze. He stared up at her, gaze wide like his small body had finally succumbed to the shock. She swayed back and forth to soothe him, her heart heavier than concrete, sound of his now silenced screams still ringing in her ears.
Down the hallway, she could hear muted voices. Albus Dumbledore's sombre words were incoherent to her, but she didn’t care what he was saying— what anyone was saying. She'd arrived a matter of fifteen minutes ago, burned under their sympathetic gazes, and fell apart at the confirmation of what she had hoped was a cruel, cruel, joke. Then her eyes had landed on midnight hair and a blue baby grow, the toddler squirming in Mcgonagall's arms as hysterical cries bellowed from his lungs. She’d taken him from her, cradled him close, and wordlessly walked down the hallway to Lily and James' vacant room.
She couldn’t whisper it’s okay, couldn’t get any words of reassurance out even if the infant was the only one who would be able to judge if they were truthful or not. It was like she hadn’t had air in her lungs since the phone call— it felt like nothing would be worth the effort it took to breathe again.
Lily and James were good. They were everything that a person should be, and they were gone.
“I’ve got you.” She managed to murmur, because she did— it was the one true thing she could say to offer comfort, “I promise.”
His head came to rest against her chest, and she could feel the stickiness of his drying tears against her skin. She was remembering the sorting hat placed over coppery hair, the sheepish expression on James’s face after he had accidentally hit her with a crumpled ball of paper— a note he’d been trying to get to Lily, who was sat obliviously beside her. They were so intertwined with every memory of those seven years at Hogwarts that she would never be able to think about her time there without thinking about them.
It had been the best era of her life, now forever tainted, like a spill of ink to pure water. She felt like she’d come crashing to earth after floating through antigravity.
There was shuffling in the hall, and her head snapped towards the doorway.
"Remus." She breathed, voice full of grief. The sight of him sent another wave of despair over her as more tears surfaced and spilled like rain against a window. He was dishevelled and clearly just pulled from sleep, but the redness of his glassy eyes as he stared at her for a frozen moment was enough to tell that he was in the same emotional turmoil she was. Her lip quivered before he finally strode towards her, wrapping his arms around them both. A sob was muffled into his shoulder, and she could feel his tears against the skin of her neck. They'd lost it all tonight.
"Oh god." His voice was raw, broken, as he said her name, "Oh god."
She didn’t know how long they held each other, but his arms were the only sense of reprieve she could find— like one of the million elastic bands around her heart had snapped away. She was scared to let go, scared that the one band would tighten around her again and squeeze until she gave out.
She hadn’t seen Remus since graduation. They’d had a stupid argument— stubborn colliding with stubborn, neither one of them wanting to admit to their wrongs. She had called him careless, stupid. It was harsh, but when she’d heard he was in the infirmary from a prank gone wrong, her panic had made her irrational. Why do you care so much? He had spat back when he realised she hadn’t been joking— when he realised she was actually mad. As soon as he’d said it, he really did feel stupid for instituting that she did care that deeply for him. For insinuating it like he didn’t want her to care, like he hadn’t been wishing for her to care like that since first year.
Well, forgive me, her last words to him had been, sarcastic and punctuated with a glare that she hoped would hide the way her heart was hurting, next time I’ll be sure to not give a fuck, Remus.
He’d felt too ashamed to approach her, and she’d felt too raw from the way it had been as if all her vulnerable feelings towards him had been forcefully exposed and thrown back at her with a sneer.
Come on, Sirius had said her name softly after it had been weeks, you know he didn’t mean it that way.
Then he shouldn’t have said it. She’d responded, shoving her papers into her bag and exiting the dining hall. He shouldn’t have said it like she didn’t have a right to care about him. Not when her heart had been in her throat at the sight of his bandages, voice wobbling when she’d asked if he was okay.
Yeah, he’d responded, having the nerve to grin, it was worth it for—
She was worked up. When Dorcas had come to get her, she’d made it out like he was on his deathbed. She’d been terrified. It was careless, Remus. Are you that stupid—
His eyes had widened in surprise, clearly not expecting her reaction. And so it had happened. They had said things they shouldn’t, then been too stubborn to fix it.
None of that mattered now. “He can’t go to Lily’s sister,” She said, “He just can’t.”
Remus pulled back from her, his hand gently caressing the side of Harry’s face. “He won’t,” he said firmly, “We’re his godparents, he goes to us.”
They had spoken to Dumbledore after they’d finally gotten the toddler to sleep, and the man’s features had pinched in concern. “You’d have to go into hiding,” He said, “He’ll be a target if they find out he’s still alive, as will you— if you aren’t already.”
“Whatever it takes.” She had responded, Remus nodding along.
They found themselves in the middle of nowhere. Some cottage hidden by country side trees while they waited out the war with the death eaters. Harry needed to be held most night, his cries an echo against the darkness after awakening from another nightmare.
She had nightmares too. So did Remus. They started off in separate rooms, but ended up in the same one for comfort. He held her, whispered assurances as they weathered the grief. She did the same for him.
Harry began walking, talking. They laughed again for the first time sitting on the kitchen floor, legs forming a diamond as the little boy attempted to stumble between them. One step, two step. He’d collapsed into her arms, and she’d raised him into the air, their cheers making him squeal.
The way Remus looked at her then— it had made her feel like a schoolgirl again, like she was before all the loss. She had smiled at him, genuinely, then broke his gaze to continue praising Harry.
They took turns cooking. Reminisced. It was less painful to remember things together. Candle light would flicker on the kitchen table, and they’d talk for hours like they used to. Then they’d get into the same bed, sleep in each other's arms as rain pattered against the window.
It didn’t happen straight away. They were too busy with grief, with the hurts from that lingering argument they hadn’t talked about, but eventually, with time, came the healing. Came the capacity to remember what they’d toed the line at those few months before the end of their final year at Hogwarts.
She’d loved him for a long time. She doesn’t remember when she started, but she knows that she hadn’t stopped. Not even for a moment.
Remus? It was sometime in February, the common room empty as the clock struck one in the morning. The fire was spitting embers, tartan blankets draped over laps. You're my favourite thing to come of this, you know?
His head had snapped up from his parchment paper, eyes comically wide, w-what?
She’d grinned slightly at his bewilderment, out of all the things Hogwarts has given me, you're my favourite.
He’d spluttered, and she’d gathered up her homework and headed towards the stairs, tossing a night, Mooney, over her shoulders like she hadn’t left him short of breath. At the breakfast table the following morning, Sirius had been teasing him about something as she sat down. He’d been flushed bright red, swatting the other boy's hands away and harshly whispering to stop it. Sirius had smirked at her, raised his eyebrows suggestively, and she’d told him to sod off with a poor attempt at concealing a smile.
“You're still my favourite.” She says, late into the night as her hands are deep in dish water. Remus freezes, rag hovering over the counters he was polishing. When his head turned to look at her, his eyes were as wide as they had been the last time. She smiles, “You always will be.”
He stares at her, grip on the cloth loosing, before his arm completely falls slack at his side. He takes in a breath, there’s another beat, and he does something he regretted not doing the last time.
With two strides, his hands cradle her face, and he pulls her towards him. Moonlight illuminates them, silver streamers through the kitchen window, and he kisses her like he was always meant to. Her hands fly to his waist, to his shoulders, and she melts into him as if her very bones were liquidated and seeking to be moulded permanently against his shape.
“I love you,” He says it like a promise, “Always. With everything I have.”
The words linger between mingled breaths, chests rising and falling against each other. “You’re my world, Remus. You and Harry. I don’t need anything else but this.”
He takes her hands between them, brings them to his lips. “You have me. I don’t want to be anywhere that you aren’t.”
They crash together again, years and years of unsaid things melded into their movements. They become a tangle of limbs in a bed they’d shared for months now, skin against skin and a shared pleasure that rolled over them like liquid gold.
It should feel wrong— hiding away in this cottage, raising the child of their murdered best friends, praying for the end of a war. But little by little, life begins to take a shape again, starts to feel like there is certainty and purpose. Here with Remus, with Harry, the effort it takes to breathe, to continue, is entirely worth it.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin imagines#harry potter imagine#harry potter x reader#hogwarts houses#hogwarts fanfiction#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts au#james & peter & remus & sirius#mauraders#james and lily#sirius black#james potter#lily evans#angst with happy ending#angst#remus lupin angst#friends to lovers
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Hey!!! Here’s another breakdown of my thoughts I told you it was coming!!!! I just needed time to process because OMG🤯
Cleo’s post of SpongeBobs brain on fire and the mini hims panicking is a MOOD. She didn’t have to call out reader like that though, lmao even though it’s true and definitely how everyone reading it myself included was feeling. The reader then commenting; “help me” only for Cleo to post a SpongeBob and Patrick reaction pic IS EVERYTHING. Pope’s comment makes it even ten times better and more hilarious. AND THE AUDACITY OF JJ TO COMMENT 😂 like you did this brother.
NOW THE TEXTS🤯😭 I needed a whole ass warning for these. Died and came back to life, like you were so wrong (BUT SO RIGHT) for this. I had to take another pause while writing this because BABES this is so phenomenally OUTSTANDING words can’t describe it but I’m going to try my absolute best.
JJ immediately coming to reader and being like “we should wait.” STAWP 😭✋I can’t that’s so unbelievably sweet and thoughtful. Like you can tell, YOU WRITE/SHOW him caring for the reader so freaking well. Him also being like, “this isn’t the best time” you can tell he’s not only so deeply in love with her, but he cares about her so much. Like don’t get me wrong; I definitely get the vibe he absolutely loves her and has loved her romantically for ages; but I also get and feel that he loves and cares for her platonically so hard too. Like yes he wants to date reader, but that’s his best friend first and foremost and it just shows; YOU SHOW IT SO AMAZINGLY.
Him reassuring her😭 he’s so perfect STOP I want him. I want them to end up together. (BUT THEN YOU COME OUT SWINGING WITH RAFE AND IT AINT FAIR)
Okay; this is also another thing and I know I’m gonna repeat myself (I do that a lot) but you actually write him so well. Him being like ; “good or bad; wait no don’t answer that.” Is SOOOOOO- I have so many thoughts. JJ is such a reckless individual but he’s also extremely selfless and loyal to those he cares for and you portray that perfectly. Like poor baby definitely wants to know what reader is thinking and feeling, but he understands that this isn’t a good time and she needs time. SO being the selfless individual he is he’s like we’ll wait until YOUR ready. LIKE PLEASE; this is amazing and perfect. Indescribable. Him being like; “you need to think and I need to prepare myself.” Is so sweet and sad; like I know poor baby is preparing himself for the worst and rejection and how he’ll be able to keep reader in his life. Because let’s be honest he won’t want to lose her😭
THE PLANS BE HAD TO ASK HER OUT 😭☠️ four years ago, then the summer, and then after the season. Mans was trying and that’s actually really cute too and it’s totally in character for him to have plans but then BE IMPULSIVE AND IGNORE THEM
The line; “I always have plans when it comes to you.” I NEED TO SAY NOTHING ELSE.
Him still offering to have the conversation after everything has calmed down and the reader is ready is just MWAH. No words needed, it explains itself. Before he tells her that until then, they’re best friends and he cares about her being happy. That, that’s all he cares about. He’s so perfect LIKE I CANT. CAN I HAVE HIM? PLEASE??!?
Also the ma’am✋😍
Then them immediately talking about pranking Pope is HILARIOUS and actually such a great detail and addition. It shows how close they are as best friends and even though with all the drama and feelings in the mix they will be BEST FRIENDS first.
P4L
The instagram POST🥰 Besties fr. Sarah calling them trouble makers or finders is so real; CUZ THEY BOTH. Also I love Cleo so much. Her comment is nothing short of amazing, and I stand our wife. AND THEN POOR POPE😭😂 I love and LIVE for their and this dynamic.
The gingerbread houses post from Cleo, are amazing and I can’t. Her house, as it should be💅, WAS STUNNING!!! I have no idea what JJ was doing but GOOD LORD, he um…tried? Bless his heart, let’s keep him out on the football field. NOW CLEO COMPLIMENTING RAFE?!? 👀 his house does look good, but I know wifey still mad on readers behalf so I was SURPRISED when I saw that. Not only that, Rafe hanging out with everyone. Like reader is one powerful woman 🗣️💅 she’s keeping EVERYONE in line. (Rafe’s house was good fr though) I don’t even have words for John B’s house. LIKE HOW DID JJ DO BETTER?!? Also Rafe legit admitting that he tried so hard so he’d be invited back is so cute and sad.
Readers Christmas post is adorable. AND POOR TOPPER, like please this man is struggling for his life. Someone please update this mans, he’s so lost and I love it. Rafe needs to talk to him for real. Like please. (At the same time I love him being so lost and it should definitely continue on for a bit hehe 😈) Cleo was definitely right about crazy crowd choice because whew, again talk about readers power.
Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit confused on the letter one. Is Rafe posting a picture of a letter the reader wrote (that was my first guess) or is he posting a pic of one he wrote to her? AGAIN TOPPER in the comments confused😂 Rafe telling him to “shut up,” was wrong of him.
THE PIC OF RAFE AND JJ. The POWER reader holds should be feared by all. Also the photo is actually so funny, (and I wanna know the story in real life) but even better I wanna know the story behind the picture in this AU. Like what was JJ doing with all those glasses MUCH LESS ON HIS FACE? How did reader get these two to agree to go out to dinner with her, and much less them staying civil for HER 🥰🤭😩 and this time Pope in the comments being confused is hilarious.
Now the texts between reader and Rafe…I can’t 😭 gonna have to break it down just like the JJ ones.
Rafe starting off the text with thanking reader and saying how he’s missed her is so sad. Like he obviously is still head over heels for her and is so glad for ANY crumb he gets.
POLYAMOROUS?!?? Please. Please. I beg because I cannot choose for the life of me and I don’t want there to be a choice. But her being like; “JJ had fun.” Is such a big deal even if it was her, it’s the fact that it was also her and them. Like you know they secretly enjoyed each others company. That or I’d like to at least see reader remain close friends with whoever doesn’t “win” and actually for Rafe and JJ to become close. Just for everyone to eventually become close and besties 😭 (FEED MY DELULU PLEASE?🙏)
Rafe saying we should give JJ a chance FLABBERGASTED ME. Still leaves me flabbergasted when I read it. Was not expecting that from him, but it honestly shows how much he’s grown and matured from before. And how serious he is about being our friend first and foremost. As he says. Which leads me to the; “because I’m your friend. I told you I would be the best friend you've ever had. Your friend would want you to be happy. And I think you need to give him a chance.” Like I can’t with him. That’s- it’s indescribable. That’s so selfless and truly shows how much he cares for the reader. I’d honestly immediately fold if someone told me this 😂☠️ poor reader cuz I could never. Why do they both have to be so sickly sweet and selfless?
I canttttttttttt; YOUR PAYING FOR MY THERAPY. Rafe being like as your ex, I know what I want, what you mean to mean, who my true love is, and what not. Is UGHHHHH and then him being like you deserve to figure out what you want and who you love and I’m here for whatever you choose. ☠️ I both love and hate that. I hate making choices so I’m like “NOOO, AHHHHH” but it is so sweet.
I apologize (LIES) I actually don’t; no but this is so long. I just had so many thoughts and feelings that I wanted to get out and share with you especially since you seemed to enjoy my last post. In case you’re confused I’m posting/rebloging this on my reblog account. I’m animalistic0, anywho I love your work so much this story is the best. Absolutely OBSESSED. Thank you for sharing, and creating this artwork.
Kildare University- Sophomore Year: 9
Synopsis: A Social Media AU in which you find yourself at Kildare University along with your friends. Starting over at a new school shouldn't be difficult. Well, except for the fact that your ex-boyfriend is the quarterback, and you are the drum major. Add in a little bit of drama, a lot of friendship, an ex who can't seem to let you go, and a best friend who has been in love with you since you were kids and well? Welcome to KU!
Pairings: Past!Rafe x Reader, JJ x Reader, Rafe x Reader
Masterlist
Taglist:
@akobx @onelonelybitch @the-universe-and-karma @beeskisses @frankoceanluvr11 @ivy-34 @rafecameronsloverrrrr @k-k0129 @asyouwish-fromcabin3 @xoxo-ada @aariahnaa @strawberryforks @urbrunettebombshell @whatisoutside @spenceatiny18 @animalistic0
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Because the week wasn't sad enough, there had to be a new Lenny interview that broke my heart a lot more. 🥺😭🥲
youtube
#the whole part about vova and olena NO I AM NOT OKAY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#it breaks my heart so much that besides irina olena hasn't been able to see any of her friends/second fam#vova at least saw sasha and zheka#and how you can hear the tears in lennys voice while she talks about vova and olena 😭😭😭#how heavy and broken her heart is for their family 😭😭😭#THAT PART ABOUT HUGGING HIM FOREVER WHEN SHE SEES THEM AGAIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#NOT LETTING THEM GO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#and how she says she misses her old life/past and sometimes watches the video and cries 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔#and we have a new statement about kvartal#now its “im gone forever” again 🥺🥺🥺🥺💔💔💔💔#shes in touch with the fam rarely but she is#she left in fall 2022 because she started the other project and couldn't do both at the same time#also she wanted to do something independently#the fam was okay with her decision#and she doesnt plan to return 🥺💔🥺💔🥺💔🥺💔🥺💔#i still have the hope that in some years after the war and she healed she might rethink her decision and does come back#based on this and other interviews i think on of the reasons she left was the war and the situation with her best friends#she thinks about vova and olena every day 😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔#and how sad olena is that she no longer knows anything about the children 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#one more thing about her not returning#i think the way she said it is interesting#its no longer a break#so my guess is it really was a break in the beginning and she thought about coming back (see also what zheka said about it)#but now changed her mind 🥺💔#im still not over the part that she thinks about them every day#lenny is worried about them every day 😭😭😭#and she cant even imagine the burden and pressure and horror that is on their family 💔💔💔#also the hugging them both and not letting them go hugging forever 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
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they should invent a friend for me who doesn't randomly stop talking to me for no reason
#my best friend. MY. BEST. FRIEND.#has been ignoring me since yesterday#and i just.... honestly i feel like giving up at this point#this is about the 5th time this has happened to me in my life AND I AM SO SICK OF IT#am i doing sth wrong????#are all the people around me just assholes????#i know that this won't go on forever and that she will get back to me at some point and explain (hopefully)#but oh gosh i am not okay#like maybe i wouldn't be reacting this way if this wasn't the X time I'm re-living this whole situation#in primary school i had an entire friend group just decide to hate me IN ONE DAY#and then in high school one of my closest friends also just started treating me like she hates me#so then all my friends just followed her lead#then last year a friend (whom i only saw every couple of months) avoided me at our mutual friends wedding#and then didn't invite me to her own wedding a few months later (she too was one of my closest and longest friends)#and then there's S#but then again at least he explained so I know this situation was not really my fault#and now this??????#i swear i have been fighting tooth and nail to continue to be caring and wear my heart on my sleeve#and BY THE GRACE OF GOD i am still able to be so#but oh gosh oh goodness this is hard#mine#personal
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...
#the results finally came: i have hepatitis. Is not longer just simple sickness and liver malfunction. Now i have chronic illness#and i am back into my place. after being far away for some weeks feeling like a victim of the narrative#how foolish and stupid i was#i tried not to think about it. to not give it importance as she said it was not that serious#but now that i am alone in here again i realize that everything it was my fault#“is our mistake” i can hear her say. but it is my fault: i was the sober one. the one in control. the one that did not let her go#“she was teasing you. was somerhing she wanted” some people reply. but that is no excuse for my behaviour#i was supposed to protect her. to let her be free with herself. and in the end i only gave her pain and regret. i destroyed my last chance#perhaps being denied to fix what i did. to prove myself better. is my punishment and i should accept it#not able to know about her life. if she is okay. if her heart is recovering. if her mind is not killing her. is part of the punishment too#sure. the guilt is destroying me. but i deserve it. in fact. i deserve all the problems i am having. i deserve to be out of her life#my chairs are screaming. my bed is punching. the blankets are a burden. the walls compress me. the juice is sour.#i can no longer make that dish. not that snack. and just thinking about the strawberrys dessert makes me nauseous and want to puke#i am totally sure that event damaged her more than she wanted to admit. if is this devastating to me. should be x10 worse for her.#but i will never know and that is part of the suffering i deserve#i hope she manage to heal. to forget about me. to find someone better that can truly help her#i hope she never wanted to came back. it will only bring her pain. see me will only make her remember the trauma#i am not free of sin. i betrayed myself that day. i betrayer her too. i do not deserve forgiveness from both#the walls are not the culprit. yet my anger keep me punching them. i could damage myself but my liver is already doing that#perhaps this illness will set me free. but until that happens. i still need to try going forward.#mostly becasue is not fair i just give up and end my suffering that easy. i must face my punishment#yet i hope she is not being tormented by my mistake. i doubt it. but she deserve better#hopefully she will never read this and therefore never try to contact me to debate the mistake if she still think was her fault#hopefully she will heal and grow. happy and independent. free with lots of friends. loving herself and someone special for her#i tried to be a saviour but at the end i only destroyed who i wanted to save. along myself in the process#better to stay alone that to hurt someone and myself again#i wish life to let me be in the void where i belong. feeling desires is gross and awful. better to not feel anything like i was before#tried to distract myself with funny stuff and healing posts. heck even some sad and broken stuff to feel understood#but nothing of that was really helpful as i was only neglecting the reality and severity of my actions. i must leave#so goodbye. i should come back when the illness and the guilt stop killing me (if it does not succeed)
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also to go "wow this is just like in pentiment" about absolutely anything and/or "wow this is just like iphigenia crash land falls on the neon shell that was once her heart (a rave fable)" about absolutely anything further:
the Narratives within crash land falls where like, in the end iphigenia being Given the story of both "this is going to happen anyways" and "so why don't you see it as a noble sacrifice to accept." the situation happening to Create a story that she was killed, so her father must be tragic, and sympathetic. that iphigenia does take on that Narrative of taking on the Noble Willing Sacrifice, and it kills her, but she also would have been killed anyways, as everyone also knows. that we even get a bit of pentimentesque [other characters observe & assess things] like, the fresa girls as a chorus, and one at the end like yeah She Was No Saint, i saw everything, but being cut off by The News that's like yeah looks like iphigenia was killed, that seguing into her father saying yeah she was killed, god's will was done, She's A Saint now. seguing to the emcee who introduced the play, but that superceded by achilles, and that superceded with iphigenia's extasis monologue as the end of the play. that whether iphigenia's a saint or not, she dies. that [the whole play] tells us as much, like, this isn't a What If kind of retelling where she escapes her fate, this is a retelling examining itself like, she Will die because the story's preset, so what to do with this as the story that has to take her there, what to do with this as iphigenia who has to go there
that iphigenia takes on another narrative in addition to the one offered by like, violeta as guide and oracle telling her she has to die (As A Noble Sacrifice), that again (as per iphigenia in aulis being like uh hey daughter. let's go to aulis so you can uh marry achilles (it is to be sacrificed)) achilles is this bait, but it's only in the ending that there's any Story about being with achilles, and when iphigenia goes to the mercenary soldier who she knows will kill her, she's the one telling him what to tell her about where she's going and why, i want you to tell me achilles is waiting for me....and she still dies, because This Is The Story. as also applied to the reality, iphigenia as another dead and missing girl following & preceding many; any disappeared deaths when consumed as disposable & replaceable, not given part of any narrative about it. while also iphigenia only gets a chorus of fresa girls from there being crosses put on the factory wall with their names, with one girl even remarking like hey they spelled my name right for once. but at the same time they're also like, both mere Apparitions but also like standins for people who are simply alive. real [shades]esque kind of, i suppose, but like they're not Sanctified for dying either, they'll comment on iphigenia but not with any like, divine knowledge, just as this out of place rich girl. whether iphigenia's A Saint or Not A Saint, she's still dead either way. she wants to be a fresa girl, they maybe want to be her, but everyone's doomed anyways thanks to way larger forces and the Stories that have been told and will be told again
but there's also the moment right before the final section wherein, before she's having to say what she wants within the bounds of [she has to die], there's achilles asking "you still want me" and iphigenia answering with "i want everything" and her vision for, like, getting to be alive actually, i'm on the gulf where the sea is gray, and no one wants a piece of me....the whole inciting event here where iphigenia wants to evade her fate however she can, exiting the bounds of her life, the physical bounds and the family unit and walking away from the rank of status / class / wealth, trying for [have her body for herself] and what the body wants, the sensuous indulgences of (a rave fable), let's hear some more about the roman state like "we don't like the examination and challenge and upending of class and convention in a bacchanalia, so only do the official versions we permit;" the Threat of people's desires for themselves, when that's going to be counter to those in power who'd want these people to be resources at their disposal; the burden on the disempowered to suffer [the only way out is through] with the Additional pain & loss that has to be taken on in pursuit of their autonomy, while also of course suffering for the autonomy they lack, that restricted and controlled and mitigated versions of what you might want are deigned to be provided or permitted so that you have Something, but that everyone's actual undeniable personhood will always be spilling past those bounds, the potential power of transgressive pleasure when one's wellbeing and autonomous choices are counter to the power structures that have to constantly try to suppress and preclude this. achilles just as bait, doomed to die like iphigenia is also still doomed, sex was never going to save everyone and the [recognizing connection as these two parallel people / We're The Same] with your lover here is not going to save everyone but it still makes more things possible for them both; iphigenia does know what she wants, and gets some of it because she wants it, same with achilles in turn, while it can't save anyone from their fates still. but it can mean something even if it doesn't transcend, like even a fleeting night of insignificant dancing that doesn't change anything can mean something, and we all die, but that doesn't mean it's Nothing to be killed any more than it's Nothing to have your desires or choices one way or another to be wrung out of your life before you are
anyways, the stories. the Looking and Presenting here. achilles and iphigenia first encountering each other as images put together and presented by someone else for their own purposes. the presence of what's seen through film/camera/recording versus in person; the potential power relations and even violence in framing, presenting, and the intended looking and assessing. repeated language about eyes/looks that burn, while also that connection between iphigenia and achilles, and their finding the least room in what they do have of their lives for more of their own wants and selves and something genuine and not predetermined, is also connected to eyes and looking and being seen and light and burning. while they're also connected to the protection and possibility of night and darkness, getting to exist and be Without being lit up or seen; that with the power that's still in play, it's never like, well then you should have nothing / no reason to hide; the penultimate moment in the play with achilles being one that's in person and fades into darkness, rather than coming in from the light of a projection / video onscreen as the introduction....iphigenia needing to be guided through a crossroads to even get to achilles in person; violeta giving the Advice and Story and Tradition to pray to eleggua, as iphigenia does before getting to encounter achilles for real, who also doesn't get to break out of a role or a fate in full in any way, but their tragedies are like, pointing towards [autonomy, imagine it] in both the ways they manage to find a little bit of it for themselves, in no small part for simply recognizing each other as in the same boat here, and in the ways they still don't have it and still can't get it
and anyways it's also inevitably saying like, telling a story?? this Play is a told story!! looking? assessing? interpreting? you're doing that in the course of experiencing it! and it's really so fucking true.
#reading the whole of it like okay well i'm different forever now then#tearing a wall down about it like yeah it's extremely chill thanks#iphigenia crash land falls on the neon shell that was once her heart (a rave fable)#what a Narrative can change; what it can't....#those already with the power to do whatever they felt like in the first place just able to create whatever story of events supports that#those whose lives are restricted by that power having to struggle to find any narratives that provide some comfort maybe#whilest perhaps it's the stories that provide an accurate reflection on the pain & suffering in one's reality that are more threatening Lol#like hey i hope that that bacchanalia isn't satiriz....paused to look up ''if satire is based on satyr i'll mclose it lmfao''#Apparently it's not Really; but the latin form was indeed influenced by the greek satyr (for the theatre of it all) on the Mistaken notion#that that Was an influence. so; anyways i hope that bacchanalia isn't satirizing norms & conventions & providing a space to transgress#wherein we can see the Constructed and Enforced nature of things like class such that it can be deconstructed & deenforced#you'd Better not be questioning these conventions by commenting on them even indirectly; playfully; or via imitation....#that achilles can only have this genuine final closeness with iphigenia after voicing & sharing ''i'm dying soon too btw (:''#while iphigenia able to voice what she wants from life is only happening with the context that she'll die & she won't have this#she knows she wants [and nobody wants a piece of me] b/c of knowing that they do; and they'll take it....#their navigating their connection via also rejecting / superseding Their Image(tm). i want to kill the tabloid girl that envelops your skin#i will sink & get rid of every inch of me. that at the end of their scenes of actually interacting it's iphigenia reassuring achilles#who's like [but you wouldn't want Me] [everyone only wants a piece of me] [you'll forget me] vs i will destroy your celebrity; there will#be no one left to adore but me....unmaking oneself in the face of being defined & doomed Already; by the past....#breaking into pieces crash land falling. if you existed once ever that exists forever. the pieces all around & as the foundation#making one's way back around to ''wow just like in pentiment'' again lol....endless things to say all around#as well as when anytime you have something to say you have about a trillion words in the effort to do so#the narrative that matters to you but doesn't save your life still giving you More life while you still have it....#and what gives a little more life than that. and a little more than that
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I swear to god everything from the weather to my equipment to my neighbours to my own fucking body is conspiring to make sure I don’t get a good run this week
#let me see if i can get the timeline right here#tried to run on sunday but my treadmill was acting up by making the loudest knocking noises i have ever heard in my LIFE#after some consultation with google and the manual and my mother (who i assume knows everything) i realised i hadn’t oiled it since i bought#it in uhhhhhh fucking september. so i oiled it. couldn’t run on it same night because i was worried about oil#so i was like fine okay. postpone one day. that was monday. my period arrived 4 days late and with a ferocity that had me hiding#under a blanket and praying for death. fine. postpone one more day#tried to run yesterday and my leggings kept falling down. so much that i rage quit. i think i ran 5 minutes in total#i didn’t even think oh let me get changed and try again. i just decided it was all over for me#postponed until TODAY. the hottest fucking day i have experienced since last summer. fab#tell me why i was 100% in the zone and my neighbour came and BANGED ON THE WINDOW AND SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME#we are all very lucky i didn’t fall off. if she’d caused me to dislocate my knee (my recurring body problem 🙃) i would genuinely have killed#her. she would be an ex-person#and the kicker is ALL SHE WANTED TO KNOW WAS IF I WOULD FEED THE HEDGEHOG AND WATER HER PLANTS WHILE SHE IS GONE#this isn’t a personal pet hedgehog or anything like that mind you. this is a wild hedgehog. it can feed itself#i was like yes of course i will IF you promise me you’ll never surprise a person on a treadmill ever again#she slunk off home like a kicked dog. like i’m sorry but if you don’t want to be yelled at about the consequences of your actions#don’t be a dick#i’d be less mean if she hadn’t witnessed me this time last year hobbling around with a cane#if she didn’t know the absolute MONTHS OF AGONY i went through just to be able to stand long enough to do normal activities like cooking#and showering; i’d be a little more lenient. but woman you can see me running on the treadmill i bought TO TEACH MYSELF TO WALK#WITHOUT A LIMP AGAIN. back in september i was stumbling along on that thing at 2km an hour. do you want me back there??????#drove me a little insane tbh#anyway i did finish my run. i wouldn’t say it was a GOOD run. almost having a heart attack kind of took me out of the zone#and i never got it back again. count your FUCKING days jean#personal
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In need fathers day with baby daddy rafe, pretty pretty please princess 💕
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you always felt nervous going to tannyhill. not that you felt unwelcome, everyone in his life made it clear that rafe’s baby was of utmost importance to them — so with that came the kind and supportive treatment toward you. however, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden. if rafe wanted to be around you and his kid 24/7, he would do so — hell, he’d get back with you. due to feeling like this, your palms were all sweaty by the time you’d reached the front door, card tucked under you and baby carrier weighing down your arm.
he looks surprised to see you when he opens the door. still in his shirt and slacks, it’s clear to you that rafe had buried himself in work today. it only then occurs to you that father’s day might be difficult for him, giving his circumstances at all. you inwardly wince.
“uh, hey.” he eyes you, itching his cheek and peering into the baby carrier.
you clear your throat, bashfully holding out the card. he takes it in silence and you place the carrier down, picking up your sleepy baby and holding her to your chest. “happy father’s day, daddy.” you smile, voice soft as to not disturb your child too much. he softens a little, blinking.
“that today?” he breathes and you stiffen a little. surely he knew?
“uh, yeah. we got you a card, wanted to let you spend some time with her today if you’re not too busy.”
“if i’m not too— listen i’m never too busy to see my kid okay? or you. i’m— i’m never too busy to… see my family… and stuff.” it’s awkward, the sentiment too soft for his liking and he looks down, staring at the sweet, milk-plumped angel in your arms. “let me…” he reaches out and takes her, her fat little fists immediately stretching for him and curling into the material of his shirt making your heart swell. he was always oddly a natural at this, handling her so well. it always filled you with a strange kind of sadness, one that regressed you slightly to something more scolded and childlike because your own father hadn’t offered you that same generosity. yet, you were thrilled your baby would receive that love even if you weren’t together with her father.
“come in, please.” he stands aside, holding the door for you before picking up the carrier in his other hand— effortlessly walking it with the baby to the living room. “you walked here?” he converses, setting the carrier down and placing the baby back inside, crouching down to stroke her tummy with the side of his finger.
“took the bus. no way im walking with that heavy thing.” you chuckle quietly and he swivels his head to glance at you.
“should’ve told me you were coming i would have got you. y’know i really don’t like you getting on the bus with her, it’s not safe alright, there’s all kinds of lunatics out there.”
“we survived.” you shrug, and there’s a short silence before he stands up, reaching for the card and opening it up. you fiddle with the hem of your dress awkwardly. you never quite knew what to do around rafe these days.
you watch as he reads the contents. ‘to daddy, thanks for being the best and always looking after me. can’t wait to be able to tell you myself how much i love you.’ you sign it off as your daughter, but his eyes linger over it, your sweet handwriting scrawled around the brightly coloured paper — almost for a moment like you were saying it yourself.
“and before you ask, yes she said all of that herself.” you joke to ease the tension and he snaps out of it, looking up at you with a chuckle.
“our little wordsmith, huh?” he smirks, wandering over to the mantelpiece and displaying the card. it filled you with some kind of pride, though it wasn’t about you. “look uh…” he strokes his jaw, glancing over at the baby. “let me take you both out for dinner, yeah? my treat.”
“your treat? rafe its father’s day, we’re supposed to be treating you—”
“i know, alright but… i’m supposed to be looking after you, right? looking… looking after you both.” he corrects himself, walking closer to you until he was basically looming over you, eyes wide. “and— and i know this is a hard day for you too, alright— shit, it’s a hard day for me. gotta bond as a family at some point, you know that right?”
you nod, feeling a weight off your shoulders a little at the way the tension fizzles out.
“you sure? i don’t wanna take up your time—”
your incessant apologising makes his eyes flutter in irritation and he takes your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him as he ducks his neck down to be more at your level.
“you’re not… yeah? you’re not. so quit.”
you blink all dumb, not realising how badly you missed his hands on you even if it was just as an innocent gesture and you nod, not trusting your voice. you try not to overthink the way he leaves his hands there for a moment as he glances over at your baby, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheekbone for a second before pulling away and patting his pockets. “has she slept?”
your brain malfunctions so it takes you a second, but soon you choke out a “y—yeah. had her afternoon nap she’s just still waking up.”
“good. i know somewhere quiet, got a host there who owes me a favour.” he strides to the carrier and lifts it before turning back towards you, blinking at you obviously. “well are you coming or— or what?”
“yeah. yes. i’m coming.”
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I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ
dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader
cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.
wc: 800+
a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!
。 ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ 。
The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.
Your Logan.
"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.
Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.
Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?
Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.
"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.
"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."
"I know."
Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.
"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.
"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."
Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.
"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."
"You don't have to be."
ᰔ
It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.
All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.
"What are you doin' awake?"
The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.
"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.
"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.
"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.
"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.
"Were we really married?"
You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.
"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.
"Five."
"What was our life like?"
"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."
"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.
"You would have to."
He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.
"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.
Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.
"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"
"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."
You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.
For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.
#logan howlett imagine#hugh jackman wolverine#james logan howlett#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine angst#logan howlett angst#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett oneshot#wolverine x you#wolverine smut#wolverine#wolverine fluff
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I need y'all to understand how fucking important it is that their lovemaking song was La Vie En Rose.
Those translated covers you hear on TikTok take their lyrics from a Louis Armstrong cover of the original French version sung by Edith Piaf. The English lyrics are beautiful but there are some things lost in translation, which is why I love that they had Izzy sing the original French version while Stede and Ed are making love.
Edith Piaf's version of the song is all about the intensity of love and finding love after a trying time. Her vocals are incredible and bleed all the different emotions she feels while singing. Izzy starts with the English translation of the song, which goes:
But a closer translation to the original French would be:
"Quand il me prend dans ses bras; When he takes me into his arms/ Il me parle l'a tout bas; He speaks to me softly/ Je vois la vie en rose; And I see life through rose-colored glasses."
Obviously this is fine and dandy, but it's the translation of the original French lyrics used later in the episode that really get me. Izzy sings this:
Which translates to this:
"He speaks words of love to me/ They are every day words/ And they do something to me.
"He has entered into my heart/ A bit of happiness/ That I know the cause of.
"It's only him for me/ And me for him, for life/ He told me, he swore to me, for life."
It's that last verse that the English version just wouldn't be able to capture. The translated version of that verse is about angels and love songs and mentions nothing of a vow to love one another for life.
That's what's so special to me about the French version of the song being used in that moment. Edith Piaf sings as a person who has lived through so much pain and suffering (which she definitely did as a French woman living through World War II) and finally finds comfort and peace in the arms of her beloved.
That is ultimately what Ed and Stede are for one another. Safe harbors, calm waters, peaceful days and nights in each other's presence. They bicker and argue and hurt one another, but they always come back together so easily. Stede was hurt and needed reassurance, needed to prove to himself that he wasn't a whim, needed to feel the security of Ed in his arms. And perhaps they shouldn't have gone all the way that night, but they're both impulsive and obsessed with each other and they needed something.
It's that song that lets me know they're gonna be okay. They're intense and impulsive but they compliment each other. They fit together perfectly, and they find comfort in one another no matter what's happened to them in the past. They need their harbors, their anchors, each other. They'd never leave each other behind. They make each other's lives la vie en rose.
(Edit: fixed a translation error)
#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd s2#our flag means death season 2#our flag means death s2#ofmd season 2#ofmd spoilers#ofmd s2 spoilers#our flag means death spoilers#our flag means death s2 spoilers#stede bonnet#the gentleman pirate#edward teach#blackbeard#izzy hands#gentlebeard#blackbonnet#la vie en rose#s2e6#ofmd s2e6#calypso's birthday#i also want to make a post about their argument#their third breakup#i have some thoughts
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BEDTIME STORY (about love) — gojo satoru
in which satoru tells his daughter the story of how you met. those of you who’ve read this already know, but your now 4-year-old daughter is yet to hear it
girl dad satoru, father-daughter time, she/her pronouns used for reader, wc: 1k, not proofread, just a silly little thing
“papa”
“yes, my life?”
“how did you and mama meet?”
“oh my, i never told you the story?”
“no, papa. you didn’t”
“well—"
one thing gojo satoru never fails to do, no matter how busy his schedule, is reading bedtime stories to his 4-year-old daughter. even when he’s swamped with missions, he would make sure he is at home by the time his daughter had to sleep — after tucking her in, he would sit beside her with a book in hand and read her a story until she’s fast asleep.
but tonight, your daughter asked for a different kind of story — the origin of your love, how the two of you met — and truth be told, satoru was more than excited to talk about it (as he always is whenever the topic in question involved you).
his eyes glowing with the same old dreamy glint anytime your name was mentioned, he puts the book on the nightstand and makes himself comfortable next to his little one in bed. slightly scooching her over so he could sit with his back leaning against the headboard, he cradles her in his arms and takes a deep breath before starting.
“it all happened on my birthday, 7 years ago”
“december 7th!”, your daughter excitedly points out.
satoru chuckles, his chest swelling with joy that his little daughter remembers his birthday. “that’s right, my life. your mother came into my life like a birthday present”, his lips curl into a gentle smile as he reminisces about the night that changed his entire life.
“was mama invited to your birthday?”
“no, but we just happened to be in the same restaurant that night. while i was celebrating with friends, she was there, on another table, with her coworkers”
your daughter hums, “i see”
“she was so beautiful, i noticed her the moment she walked in. and i couldn’t take my eyes off her for the rest of the night. i knew i had to go and talk to her before she left. something in me knew she was the one, you know?”
your little one tilts her head up to look at satoru, eyes curiously blinking, “but how did you know, papa?”
“my heart whispered it to me, beating relentlessly the entire time. it was like this unknown force was pulling me towards your mom and the whole time i was trying to come up with a plan, an excuse even, to go talk to her without coming off as a weirdo”
“and did you succeed?”
“well, by the looks of it—”, he points at her and gently boops her nose, “i did”
she chuckles sweetly, “no, papa—i mean did you manage to not be a weirdo?”
“hmm, i’ll let you decide on that one. so pay attention, okay?”, to which she silently nods. his hand rubs the top of her head softly before continuing.
“you see, i couldn’t think of anything but nor could i wait any longer. i decided i’d just go and say hi. so i stood up and made my way towards her table. i had to know her as soon as possible, because every second of inaction felt like it was taking away from my future with her. any second was precious, you know? if i could be with her sooner, be it even a planck time earlier, i had to take it — as it would only add up to the time spent with her”
“what is planck time, papa?”, your daughter cuts him off.
“it’s theoretically considered to be the shortest measurable time”
“is it less than a second?”
“waaaaay less”
“woah, papa you were down bad for mama”, your daughter gasps in amusement.
an audible laugh breaks through satoru’s lips, “yea, i was. and i still am”
“and what happened when you went over?”
“i said hi but she wasn’t having it at all, didn’t even bat me an eye. tried to chase me off before i was able to introduce myself. but i was already determined to make her mine, i knew it deep down that she was my person. so i forced my way and introduced myself”
“papa you’re a stubborn one”
“yea, but your mother turned out to be even more stubborn. she dodged all my attempts at her. so, i had to make it very clear to her, let her know that the man standing before her was the one to be her boyfriend, then her husband, and then the father of her children — therefore, in order for all this to work, i asked for her number”
“you really said all that?” — satoru nods to her question affirmatively. “papa, that’s so bold of you, honestly”, another gasp leaves your 4-year-old’s mouth. “and then?”
“and then she got mad at me, thought i was playing around with her”, satoru chuckles, brushing a hand across his face at the memory, closing his eyes to replay that very scene in his mind. your reaction is still pretty vivid to him, how your eyes grew wide in disbelief after what he had just told you...
i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children — and you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children…
…and then how you narrowed your eyes and gave him a good lecture.
is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?
“to be honest, i was slightly panicking internally — this was my best move, you know? and it was failing. but luckily, your uncle suguru came to my aid. he convinced your mom to give me a chance before blatantly turning me down. and she did — i got her number by the end of the night”, a soft smile painted on his lips again. “look at us now — wasn’t i right about all that?”
“papa, you’re a hopeless romantic”
“you bet i am”, he smugly confirms.
“…and a bit of a weirdo”, she cackles quietly.
“oi”, satoru furrows his brows. his hand softly tickles the side of her, incurring a loud laugh on her end. “shhh, time to sleep now or else mama will scold me for keeping you up past your bedtime”
“but, papa — you did well, being a weirdo paid off”
“yea, it really did — it gave me a home and a family”, his eyes soften observing the treasure in his arms.
#ઈઉ — ai writes#[ ♡ ] — satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you
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Ken Sato with a supermodel!reader pls pls pls
Like they're dating in secret but accidentally reveals their situation and their fans go wild
OMG sure! Sorry this took time for me to write and I really do hope you'll like it <3
runway to your heart (ken sato x supermodel!fem!reader)
Summary: A baseball player and a supermodel, both celebrities in their respective fields. A relationship that had to be kept under wraps.
It was supposed to be a secret... until it wasn't.
Word count: 6,913
CW: Fluff, slightly suggestive (he def talks you through it), Ken Sato being the boyfriend of the year
A/N: I tried my best in writing this because I am not familiar with both fields (baseball and modelling) so here you go! This was purely out of my own imagination and is very, very self-indulgent because damn, who wouldn't want Ken Sato in their life? Rich, soft spoken, a good father, and the list goes on. Hope you enjoy this one just like how I kicked my feet every single time Ken becomes THE boyfriend.
***
Cheers erupted throughout the whole stadium and through the speakers, mixing in with the noise in the dressing room.
Hair rollers tucked in, brush with powder dancing across your face, and a neutral expression to let the makeup artist do his magic. Your eyes dutifully closed as the artist worked on your eyelids, but your ears got sharper to hear the conversations around you.
You knew who the main topic in the room would be, and that was the man that had just scored another point in the game on screen.
“Oh God,” you heard one of your model colleagues groan. “Ken Sato is too attractive. Look at that smile, that body-” she stopped talking and addressed you next. “Y/N, isn’t Ken Sato so handsome? Imagine being his girlfriend. That would be a-ma-zing.”
Your eyes were still closed and you hummed an immediate reply. “He’s okay. I’ve seen better and-” You opened your eyes when the makeup artist told you that he’s done with your eyes. “He seems like a cocky bastard.”
Your colleague, Hina, gave an exaggerated gasp as she heard your reply. “You did not just say that about Ken Sato. If he isn’t your type, I wouldn’t know who else would be able to satisfy you. He is the most sought-after man.”
You shrugged. “You never know. Maybe I like a single dad who has to raise a kid on his own, with him himself having daddy issues.”
Hina narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously, before prancing over and stared at you. “You know that whatever you described was very specific? Y/N,” she said, almost quietly, “are you seeing someone?”
“Yeah, I’m seeing you, Hina.”
She clicked her tongue. “You know, you always answer so smartly. One day, Y/N, I will discover your secret!”
You chuckled, watching as Hina got dragged by the stylist, prepping her to get her up to the runway. Your turn was still a long way to go, so you were left with your hair held up by rollers, while your eyes caught a notification on your phone. You read the notification and smiled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression.
The message read: It’s another win for us tonight, baby. Can’t wait to see you after this. Good luck for your show today, and break a leg. I know you’ll do great.
You typed in a reply, quickly snapping a picture of your prepped face and sending it over to the recipient. You weren’t even able to put down your phone when the next reply came in the next second.
You swore, this person could make you smile without even knowing, which could be a very risky thing considering the nature of both of your relationship.
Looking gorgeous as always, baby. The text message read. I really am the luckiest man to have you.
You put down your phone as your name was called over; your turn was approaching fast. You were practically floating around from one point to another, having different hands adding last-minute touch ups.
The line was moving fast before it was your turn, and you could see that every one of the models who finished their turn returned with a grim look on their faces backstage. You looked at the small entrance, and when you spotted Hina, you quickly signaled for her to come over.
“Was the runway condition that bad?” you whispered to her, whose hair was going in different directions at once.
“They said they wanted to simulate an ‘extreme condition’ on the runway, right?” She did quotation marks.
You nodded, agreeing to her. “Yeah.” You inched up the line. “The theme for today’s show is extreme weather.”
Hina exhaled slowly as she attempted to fix her hair. “All I can say is that they managed to replicate it well.” She shook her head. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”
You turned your head back to the front, your turn coming closer as the models in front of you went out to continue the show. It was a rapid show, where you finally had your turn right after Hina disappeared behind a row of clothes.
You understood what Hina meant as soon as one foot was out from behind the scenes. The runway was boxed within a transparent glass, protecting the simulation from the audience.
From years of experience, you put on your best face before walking down the runway, doing your best in showing off the collection.
You were sure they were trying to imitate a blizzard, but the worst they could offer to models wearing heavy dresses and high heels. You saw the model in front of you fall first, the strong winds knocking her back before as she couldn’t fight it back.
One rule on the runway: you keep on walking, no matter the condition. Walk over your fellow models, maintain your expression and show off what you have. It’s an unapologetic world out here.
But that’s exactly the reason why you’re known as the rule breaker around here.
While maintaining your face, you did a show of reaching out to the fallen model, helping her up to let her continue, but you figured this time around, being a rule breaker did have its consequences.
You knew the fallen model; she considered herself as your rival, always trying to one up you in every single aspect. Every, single, aspect including boasting about having a ‘sweetheart’ while you don’t.
Your rival, Mei, quickly took this as a chance to get back at you and embarrass you in front of the audience. She accepted your hand at first, but you realised that she was pulling you down instead of pushing herself up. Not enough with it, she added an extra push, disguised under the pretext of accepting your help to get up.
You were thrown to the side, and coupled with the condition on the runway, you almost tumbled off the path. Luckily, you managed to break the fall but as you landed sideways, you could feel the bruise forming near your right ankle. You cursed silently as you saw Mei picking herself back up and smirking in a split second before strutting away, leaving you stranded.
You knew no one was going to help you up as long as the show was on, so you braced yourself while continuing. Throughout the whole show, you managed to finish without breaking rhythm. You didn’t let the pain hinder you, although all you wished to do was to be lying down, giving your body a much needed rest.
Backstage after the end of the show, your manager, a sweet woman in her 40s, quickly rushed to you. A single mother of 2, Ms. Tornado as you’d like to call her, as she always seemed like she was caught up in something chaotic. She fussed over you, but you quickly brushed her away.
”Ms. Tor,” you cooed, hiding the pain with a calm demeanour, “I’m done for the day. Let’s go back.”
On the way out, you gave a signal of reassurance towards Hina, who looked worried while her right fingers were tapping on her left knuckles. You saw Mei smirking at you, offering no words to you. You gave her no satisfaction of seeing you in pain as you smiled back.
You knew that everyone had seen you fall on the runway, but that didn’t disturb you.
Your phone pinged with a notification. As you read the message in the car, you turned to Ms. Tornado on the driver’s seat. She understood your signal.
”Usual place?” she asked.
Unable to hide your excitement, you quickly nodded.
No further questions asked as she drove towards the city border, bringing you to one special spot you had practically owned with that one person. In fact, you’re sure that he had bought ownership over the whole area. Your smile grew wider as you spotted the person waiting on a camping chair with an empty one next to it, a campfire lit up.
You sneaked up from behind, forgetting the pain in your legs as you broke into a run, almost causing the person to tumble forward as you hugged him from behind.
”Kenji!” You exclaimed, your character a total 180 degrees from whatever you put on when you were ‘the supermodel who revived the fashion scene’.
With him, you allowed yourself to be comfortable; no pretense of having to check your posture, controlling your expressions or giving off a cold demeanour. With him, you were just Y/N, the girl who preferred to be nested in your home, finishing your time up by watching your same favourite shows over and over again.
Kind of ironic how you considered yourself an introvert yet landed a job that essentially thrusted you into the spotlight.
Kenji exclaimed your name back in the same energy you gave him, hugging your arms as he planted a kiss on the back of your hand. He stood up and dear God, you love this man so much. One of your features that contributed to your modelling career was your height, but you loved the fact that even then, he towered over you.
Ken Sato, the name that had revived Japan’s baseball team, who had acquired a celebrity status after essentially becoming the saviour.
Ken Sato, the man who had kept the audience on the edge of their seats as he scored yet another point in the game.
Ken Sato, the one man who had essentially saved your life while unironically revealing his one kept secret to you.
And Ken Sato, your boyfriend.
Though both of your relationships had to be kept under the radar due to your statuses, you were content with what you’re having now.
Who cares if people think you’re too ‘cold’ and that’s why no one wants you? A small smile played on your lips as you thought, Well, Ken Sato does.
How both of you met was bizarre, to say the least. You were out eating dinner alone, under the disguise that you always wore when you’re just a ‘normal’ citizen, when the ground shook. You were sure that there was a monster attack somewhere, but you were calmly eating dinner when the restaurant’s roof got lifted up.
Ultraman’s giant figure was punching the monster, and you were left gaping at the sudden loss of roof above your head. You quickly finished up your dinner, and when you were about to walk back to your condo, you saw the one thing that you were sure you shouldn’t.
You saw Ultraman shifting back into a human-sized figure and lo and behold, it was Ken Sato. Before, you never bothered to dig deeper into his life because you figured out that you would never be affiliated with the baseball scene. You knew he was famous and that was it.
You couldn’t believe your eyes so you gasped, but your hand wasn’t quick enough to muffle the sound until he turned back to look at you. Both were stone statues for a good minute before he finally spoke up at that time, “Um… can you keep… uh the… secret?”
You sure as hell did keep the secret that even after a drunken stupor, a one night stand then turned into a secret relationship with him, it was still safe with you.
You were so comfortable with him up to the point that it was nice to be yourself with him.
”What’s wrong, baby?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you back to the present. You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his chest. “You’re thinking of something?”
You shook your head, tightening your grip around his waist. “Nah,” you mumbled. “Just thinking about the time we first met.”
He chuckled as he ruffled your hair. “I’m sure you did great in your show just now, hmm?”
You stayed quiet, debating or not whether you’d like to tell him what actually happened. He most likely hadn’t seen the show yet, but sooner or later he’d find out. It’s just a matter of now or later.
You were in your comfortable clothes; baggy t-shirt with cargo pants and hair tucked underneath a beanie. In public, people would usually leave you alone when you’re in this attire. Today though, the long pants were also an attempt for you to cover up the growing bruise.
You decided to keep quiet about the bruise, figuring later that he would find out and by then, you hoped it wouldn’t look as bad as it was now. You detached yourself from his hug, careful to not make it so obvious that you were limping. You took a seat, beckoning for him to come over.
Ken traced you with his eyes, lips locked before he smiled. He passed by his seat but didn’t settle down. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the sand, facing you. He leaned forward, crossing his arms with each other on your legs and rested his chin on top. He looked up at you, that same boyish smile he had whenever he was with you.
You looked at him, uttering, “Looks like my boyfriend won yet another game today.” You patted his cheeks, and he quickly grabbed your hands to hold them.
”It was the team, really,” he said humbly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I was just one of the players.”
”Whatever you say, Mr.-eligible-bachelor-with-thousands-of-adoring-fans-waiting-to-be-picked.” You rolled your eyes.
He chuckled. “Little do they know,” he drew circles on your palm, “that I’m no longer available.”
He stared at you as you looked into the distance, the crashing of the waves filling in the silence between both of you. He stood up, cocking his head towards the shoreline. “Wanna go for a walk?”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, the trouble you had with your feet coming once again. You didn’t get a chance to answer as he knelt in front of you with his back towards you.
He gently pulled you on his back, your legs dangling on either side of his body as he piggybacked you. “Okay, let’s go for a walk,” he said, firmly placing his hands under your thighs.
You said nothing, circling your arms around his shoulders, your face buried at the nape of his neck. You loved the fact that you’re always calm around him, something that you’d always need after spending hours in a fast-paced environment for work every day.
As you walked along the shoreline, both of you pointed out stars shaped like objects, and he stopped at one point when you suddenly said, “I love you so much, do you know that?”
He laughed. “What’s with the sudden confession? I love you too, baby.” He gave your thigh a light slap. “And I’m glad to call you mine.”
”It’s time to go back, isn’t it?” You asked, hoping the answer would be no but knew the world would have to end for it to be.
He threw back his head to get a look of your face before uttering, “Sorry. I have a game tomorrow.”
You pouted slightly but knew that the circumstances wouldn’t change. Whether you’d like it or not, even though you didn’t mind your relationship was playing this way, both of you had your individual lives that didn’t intersect with each other.
Dates would always be a secret with limited areas you could go to, and you had to make sure you’re not seen within the vicinity of each other. If both of you needed to go to each other’s house, it felt more like you’re on an undercover mission.
Today, though, with you still on his back, he held onto you firmly and made his way back to his bike parked nearby some bushes.
”Kenji-“ you started, figuring that maybe he forgot that both of you were supposed to follow separate ways.
”Tell Ms. Tornado you’re staying at my house tonight,” he uttered, placing you on his bike’s seat, taking a helmet and helping you to put it on. “You’re sleeping at my house today.” He checked his watch. “I know that you don’t have any work scheduled for the next few days, right?”
You shook your head slowly, secretly happy that he actually kept track of your schedule. Your eyes searched for his from behind the visor, and you blinked slowly as he tapped your helmet.
“Stay at my house until you’re fully healed. Mina can take care of you.” He’s referring to the supercomputer his parents had programmed. He wore his helmet and leaned forward. If not for both of your helmets in place, he’d be resting his forehead against yours. “Of course, you’re welcome to continue staying until…” he winked, “whenever.”
He positioned himself in front of you, powering up his bike. You leaned forward, circling your arms around his waist.
Before your voice got swallowed by the roar of his bike, you said, “You knew I was hurt.”
Underneath his helmet he smiled. “I always do, baby. Always.”
***
One of the reasons you didn’t want to stay at his house for too long was because you knew you’d be too comfortable. It seemed that after the fiasco you ran into with Mei, Ms. Tornado told you that she was suspended from any work and your agency gave you time off.
So here you were, warm mug of coffee in hand, cross-legged on Ken’s sofa while wearing one of his hoodies. So far from your side, your manager was the only person who’d known about your secret relationship with the baseball player. You’re grateful that your agency was not the type to pry into your private life, so long it didn’t affect your work.
You made yourself right at home at Ken’s house. You could say that you became best friends with Mina, with her occasionally sharing stories about how Ken was when growing up and you helping her around the house.
You sunk in the plush sofa, watching a live show of another one of Ken’s games. You saw him turn to the camera, winked and did a secret sign that was directed at you. Seeing how he’s so expressive, you wondered whether Ken actually wanted your relationship to be public.
Even then, you wondered whether anyone actually noticed that Ken started doing the same pose to the camera whenever he scored a point, after he got into the relationship with you. Maybe the secrecy of your relationship was just held back by a single click to post on the Net.
As far as you knew, only five were aware of this relationship; both of you, your manager, Mina and Kenji’s father.
Rather than your own reputation, you’re worried more for Ken’s image. He just moved here from America, carrying the expectations of everyone who had set their eyes upon him. He rose to fame real quick, while you’d already established your foundation right in your hometown as you were raised through a family generation of models.
Night was approaching, and you did catch a message from Ken updating you that he would be joining the group dinner to celebrate their win first. He promised to come back as soon as the dinner was finished. While waiting for him, you caught Mina’s red bar from the corner of your eyes and you smiled at her.
“Y/N, Ken had actually asked me to ask you one important question.”
“Sure, what is it, Mina?”
Immediately, Mina displayed a projection showing a website of a furniture store. She changed the page to the ‘bed frames’ category.
“I was told that the bed broke last night. Ken told me this morning to ask you which ones would you prefer,” Mina said without any hint of emotion. “He didn’t want to disturb you while you’re sleeping this morning.” After remembering another point she added, “He said make sure to pick the strong ones.”
You, on the other hand, were already burying your face in your hand as your cheeks reddened. “Oh my God,” you groaned. He could go one day, one day, without making you blush. It didn’t help that Mina was delivering the message so robotically. Well, she was one, but you get the point. “Mina, can we talk about this… some other time? Don’t worry,” you pressed your lips into a thin line as you remembered how exactly the bed broke last night. “I’ll tell Ken that you delivered the message well.”
Mina backed up, doing her gesture akin to a nod. “Sure, Y/N.”
You turned your head towards the front door when you heard the door opening, and you stalked your way to your boyfriend, who was holding his jacket in his left hand. Your face fell when you saw that he was wincing, the skin near his eye bruised and his right hand gently pressing over the injury.
“What happened to you?” You fussed over him, requesting Mina to take a bucket of ice and a cloth. “Who did this?”
He winced once again, but grinned soon after. He threw his jacket on the sofa and grabbed your waist, kissing you, hard. It was like he was releasing whatever pent up frustrations he had the whole day, drunk in your kiss that you felt out of breath as soon as he let go.
You saw Mina hovering nearby, clearly not wanting to disturb both of you. You cleared your throat and Ken ran a hand through his hair.
Mina set down the requested bowl of ice and cloth, but Ken shook his head.
Ken uttered, “Mina, can you please bring a bucket of ice to the bathroom? I’d like to soak myself in the tub.”
“Sure, Ken.”
“Ken, you need to tell me what happened to you. You’re injured, for God’s sake!” Your eyebrows knitted in worry, but your boyfriend was displaying the opposite as he was happily dragging you along to the bathroom.
He only gave you a peck on your forehead as Mina helped to prepare the bath.
You wouldn’t let your eyes off his injuries, assessing how badly he was hurt. As Mina excused herself to leave both of you in the bathroom alone, he stripped and stepped into the tub. The water sloshed around as he settled down, and you gritted your teeth as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.
He lifted up his eyebrows, clearly teasing you. “Care to join me?”
You sighed, clearly dissatisfied at how he’s acting while not disclosing about what had happened to him until he returned with a black eye. You crossed your arms, not wanting to submit to his pleading eyes, not until he told you what happened.
Clearly, you were not strong against this man because now both of you were stark naked in the cold water, Ken hugging you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Now tell me what happened.”
Ken obliged. “So we went for a celebratory dinner at this one grilled meat restaurant.” He buried his face at the nape of your neck. “There was this one group of guys who clearly were too drunk. One of them,” you felt his arms tightening around your waist. “Was making inappropriate comments about your body. My girlfriend. Of course I got pissed and punched him. It was an easy fight, but I was unlucky to get this one hit. I won, of course.”
The knot in your stomach got undone, that heavy feeling finally lifting off as you laughed, relieved. You leaned backwards, muttering, “Oh, Kenji. My idiot Kenji. I really thought you had an encounter with a hater, someone that wasn’t afraid to punch you in public just because they hate you. I was so worried. But didn’t your teammates suspect anything? For you to react that way when they’re talking about me.”
“Even if they do find out, it doesn’t matter. Anyone who speaks like that about you deserves to be punched, baby.” The water sloshed around as he turned you around so that both of you were facing each other. He rubbed a thumb over your lips, his mouth lifting at the corners. “And guess what?”
You narrowed your eyes. “What?”
“I got a personal invitation from one of the biggest sports brands here. They’re inviting me for an official photo shoot for their new attire collection.”
“That’s amazing, Kenji!” you exclaimed, and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face.
“And you know what’s the best part? It’ll be a duo photo shoot, a collab with one of Japan’s famous models.”
“A man?” you asked, still clueless.
“A woman.” He grinned, “With my woman.”
“Oh!” You slapped a hand to your forehead, not believing that you hadn’t caught on when your manager had told you that you would be having an upcoming photo shoot with one of the most famous athletes. No wonder Ms. Tornado looked all smiley when she was delivering the news.
“They were surprised when I agreed to it without much questions,” he said. “Said yes as soon as I heard your name.”
***
Your leg was all healed, Ken’s bruise subsided, and it was finally the day of the photo shoot. Obviously, both of you had to come from a different place and at a different time to avoid any suspicion, so the night before you had returned to your house, despite Ken showing you his puppy eyes to make you stay.
You left without looking back, having to reassure him that both of you would see each other tomorrow.
The day came. In the makeup room, both of you had your lips locked, only a slight nod of greeting when he first came in before you returned your attention back to the mirror in front.
God knew how much Ken Sato was holding back from pulling you into a hug as soon as he saw you in the room.
You saw him from the corner of your eyes, his eyes closed as he let the brushes and artist do their work. You smiled, your mind thinking about how Hina would most likely go crazy once she heard that you had landed a job with this famous baseball player. You figured that you’d let her find out by herself once the official photo shoot had come out.
In the studio, both of you exchanged a formal greeting before the photo shoot started, and you could see that Ken was trying to hide from forming a smile on his face. As the camera started clicking and poses were thrown, you could hear the photographer yelling out encouragement, including ‘Don’t be shy with each other’ and ‘Stand closer’.
You heard Ken slightly snicker, and he whispered to you subtly, his lips slightly brushing your earlobe. You shivered, and he was smart enough to not let anyone see what he was doing. “If only they know how close we are.”
“Last set!” The photographer announced. “This time around, I’d like to see some contact with each other. No looking like you’re two magnets repelling each other, but attracting each other instead.”
“Oh I can do that,” Ken said smugly as he followed the photographer’s instructions.
Funnily enough, he was the one looking like he had more experience in modelling as he followed the photographer’s instructions to a T, while you felt more like a deflated balloon guided by your boyfriend.
You promised you were a professional model, but with him, well, you faltered and posed like you’re a novice instead. Still, you managed to pull through the photo shoot as the photographer gave a thumbs up, fully satisfied with the session today.
You took some time to relax after the photo shoot alone in the dressing room. As you were leaning against the chair, your head turned to look at the door that just opened.
Ken’s head popped up through the space and he waved his hand. “Hey,” he whispered. He looked over his shoulder before slipping into the room, locking the door behind him.
“Ken Sato,” you said, more of a warning. “What if someone sees you coming in?”
“It’s fine,” he walked over to you, and lifted you up in a hug.
Naturally, your legs coiled around him as he firmly placed his arms around you.
“I wanted to say goodbye in person before I leave for my game this evening. You’ll watch the game live, right?”
“Of course, I’ll be there.”
You practically jumped away from him as a knock came on the door and panicked, you opened the closet door before shoving him inside. You shut the closet tight, catching his eyes trailing your movement through the bars before putting a finger over your lips to signal silence. Steadying your breath, you opened the door to find the photographer standing outside.
“Oh hey, uh…” you trailed off as you realised that you didn’t know the camera man’s name.
“I’m Yuichiro,” he extended his hand to offer a handshake, but you politely declined with a nod of your head. “It’s uh,” he nervously chuckled. “I thought that you looked great and I found out that we’re the same age. I was wondering if you would like to, you know, go have coffee sometime. As in, uh, I’d like to take you out sometime.”
“Oh, really?” You swore you could feel Kenji’s stare digging through the man’s skull as you stole a glance towards the closet behind you. “That’s too bad because I uh,” You silently prayed that Ken wouldn’t suddenly spring out of the closet. “I am too busy. I don’t even have time to drink coffee myself.” You gave a professional smile, hoping that the man would take the hint and walk away.
“Not even coffee?”
“Not even coffee.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t drink coffee, actually.”
“Oh.” He looked surprised. “But I thought I saw you drinking coffee this morning at the set.”
You shook your head, pretending to be disappointed. “I’m afraid you are hallucinating, my friend. I don’t drink coffee. Anyway,” you clapped your hand, “I need to get ready to go to my next destination for another photo shoot, so if you could please leave?”
He looked disappointed as he nodded. “I mean, yeah. Please go on your way. Sorry to take your time.”
You smiled politely but as soon as you closed the door and locked it, you jumped over to the closet, the door creaking as you pried it open. You saw Ken sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees as his bangs curtained his eyes. You sat down in front of him, moving his bangs out of his vision.
“Kenji…?” you started, trying to gauge his emotions.
He stayed quiet for a few moments, and you poked his stomach when it seemed like he’s not budging.
“Are you okay?”
He breathed in and out, before looking up. His eyes caught yours, but still you couldn’t read his expressions. “I experienced this new emotion,” he finally said.
You inched forward.
“You’re doing great, baby.” The compliment came out of nowhere that you were slightly taken aback.
“Kenji,” the grin on your face grew wider, “were you jealous?”
He never broke off his stare to you, and you found it so attractive. “I was.” His eyes dropped to your lips. “I was stopping myself from jumping out of the closet and announcing that you’re mine.”
“I am,” you uttered, ruffling his hair. “You better get going. You have a game to win.”
“I sure do.” He stood up and you mirrored his actions. Before he turned to leave, he kissed you on the lips and whispered again as he peppered kisses on your neck. “With this jealousy, let’s just hope the bed won’t break again tonight.”
***
Of course you lied to the photographer to politely decline his advances. Your schedule was free this evening and you had promised Ken you would see his game live. You dressed as inconspicuously as possible, donning on the merchandise jersey they sold to the public.
Ken had offered you to wear his jersey, but that would practically mean announcing your relationship to the public. Tucking your hair under the cap, putting on fake glasses and looking at yourself in the mirror, you figured how Clark Kent had managed to turn people’s suspicions away from him being the superhero.
Now, you’re just one person among the thousands of show-goers filling up the stadium. You took up your seat, eager to witness the game Ken would be joining. Announcement blared throughout the stadium, signalling that the game was about to start. You heard your boyfriend’s name announced as he stepped onto the field.
Giants’ supporters cheered for him, and you joined in on the hype as you saw him giving his million-dollar smile to the crowd. You waited for the game to start, and truth be told, no matter how many times Ken had explained the rules of the game, anything barely stuck to your brain. Still, you tried your best to support him even though that meant cheering for him blindly whenever the others did.
The crowd went wild again as the Giants scored yet another point.
You got distracted by a notification coming to your phone. You wanted to ignore it, but as you saw Hina’s name as the sender, you had to sit down and open the message. She rarely texts you out of work, so there must have been something out of the ordinary. You felt your heart drop as you read the message, and a link towards a news website was sent together.
Your eyes caught her message first. Oh my God?! You’ve been dating Ken Sato?
You read the headline next. BREAKING NEWS: BASEBALL PLAYER KEN SATO AND SUPERMODEL Y/N IN A RELATIONSHIP?
You stood up together with the rest of the cheering crowd, but you had to wrestle your way through to make your way out of the stadium. You didn’t know what to do, Kenji was still in game and your feet almost gave way as your shaky hands opened the link to read the news.
Everything was summed up in one news article, and you felt your world getting smaller as you saw the pictures of the night Ken had piggybacked you after you hurt your leg, all obviously looking like they were taken in secret. You read through the whole article, your ears deafened by the sound of roaring cheers inside the stadium.
You were standing outside the stadium, and you looked back at the giant screen you could see displaying yet another shot of Ken doing his signature pose to the camera. You turned back to the news article in your hands, and read through the whole thing over and over again. Several lines caught your eyes, and you finally caught on who was behind this.
Photographer Yuichiro handed over the pictures of the two lovebirds having a secret date at the private beach, which was purportedly owned by Ken Sato. From the pictures taken, I’m sure everyone would come to one very obvious conclusion. The question is; do you find the relationship surprising, or are they a perfect match for each other?
You wondered if it was all planned by him; the photo shoot together with Ken. Was he testing to see whether you’d accept a date with him to assume whether you’d have a boyfriend or not?
You wanted to run away. But from what, exactly? Running away wouldn’t solve this problem.
Well, if it turned into a problem.
Cheers erupted again as you returned to the stadium, just in time to see the final score and then celebrating the Giants’ victory. Chanting swimmed through the crowd, and you gripped your phone tightly as you searched for Ken among the players.
You finally spotted him at the bench, and your mind was as equally noisy as the audience around you.
He looked in your direction, trying to search for you but before he could catch your eyes, his shoulder was tapped by a fellow teammate, showing him an article displayed on the screen.
Everything happened fast, you didn’t know that it was possible as your worst fear came to life in front of everyone. The giant screen in the stadium displayed the news article and the pictures of the both of you displayed in a slideshow. You could hear shouts of confusion and gasps among the crowd as all of them were looking at the same thing.
The noise of the crowd died down as Ken made his way to the edge of the field, where an interviewer was waiting to start the session. The topic of the interview was supposed to be about the win at first, but it had clearly turned into a different direction.
The camera focused on Ken, and you knew he was directly looking at you. He looked calm, the practised smile he had on whenever he appeared on screen.
“Ken Sato,” the interviewer started, as he looked into the camera, “The name that is no longer a stranger to every household. His return to Japan brought waves and hope to the Giants. But today,” she turned to him, “it seemed like you’re the focus on the interview for an entirely different topic. Who knew that this eligible bachelor was actually already taken? I have the man here with me, so, what would you like to say?”
The crowd was obediently silent as they waited for his answer. You felt your heart beating loud in your chest as you, too, anticipated what he would say.
For a split second your mind wondered whether he would vehemently deny the news, but you brushed that thought away. You trusted him.
“I do have a question for everyone here, first, though.” Ken swept his vision across the crowd. “Is it a sin for a celebrity, or at least someone who is quite well known by the public, I mean,” he shrugged, “I don’t wanna sound like I’m boasting or that I’m too full of myself thinking that I’m famous.”
There was a ripple of laughter through the whole crowd.
“Is it wrong for me to be in a relationship?”
Silence. A dread coming over you as you quietly anticipated that there might be protests coming from the crowd. No one spoke up until you heard a female shouting from the crowd, “No, it’s not a sin! Well, we would be slightly sad that our favourite bachelor is no longer available, but you’re still human!”
Your eyes travelled to the female shouting, and realised why the voice was so familiar. It was Hina. She saw you looking at her and she grinned, giving a thumbs-up.
“Thank you, random woman from the crowd,” Ken uttered. He turned back to the camera. “I think that answered the question. I’m still human,” he shrugged, his eyebrows lifting up as he announced, “and I fell in love with Y/N. We are happily in a relationship. I’m proud to say that she’s mine.” His eyes finally fall towards your direction. You could only discern his expressions and gestures from the big screen because he was too far from you. “I love you, Y/N.”
There was a momentary moment of silence that you could hear a pin dropping, and you feared that maybe, the public wouldn’t take it so nicely.
But soon, the whole stadium shook with cheers from the crowd. This time around, they were chanting both Ken's and your names.
Okay, so this was not the reaction that you had expected.
You saw Ken gesturing to you, asking to meet you privately after the game. You nodded, pointing to your phone to say that you would communicate through text.
He sent you a message for the meetup point, and you practically ran towards where he had wanted to meet you.
You saw him at the end of the empty hallway, the noise in the stadium a distant sound now that it was only the two of you. You ran into his arms and he caught you, laughing. You let your breath steady first before saying anything.
“Ken Sato… you…” you started. “You have this way of wording things. I never expected the whole crowd to just agree with you.”
“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin, and he gazed upon you. “Like I said, we’re still humans.” He kissed your lips. “And I fell in love with you.”
“Hmm…” You hummed, still feeling slightly worried.
Ken opened the article, scrolled down to the comments and showed them to you. “See, they’re all positive comments.” He cleared his throat, doing his best imitation while reading the comments. “Oh my God, they’re a perfect match for each other! I knew they were dating, it would be weird if they didn't date. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy for them. Y/N, you’d be better off with me-” He stopped reading when he read one comment that irked him. “You know what, I’m going to report that last comment.”
You burst into laughter seeing how he was tapping furiously at the screen, blowing out an air of satisfaction as he finally reported the comment.
“There, problem solved,” he announced.
“You know that probably some time in the future that there will probably be people who won’t be satisfied.” You sniffed.
“Well that’s too bad.” He bumped his forehead against yours. “Because you’re already mine.”
#ken sato#kenji sato#ultraman#ultraman rising#ken sato x reader#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x you#kenji sato x you#x reader#ken sato x y/n#kenji sato x y/n#ultraman: rising#wr: mine
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Father’s Day
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: max is dating an international star
a/n: i literally had this idea last night and had to write a short blurb, i promise i am writing other stuff tho 🫶
masterlist
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y/username happy father’s day, daddy. i love you and your big…
maxverstappen1 anything to share with me?
y/username not pregnant, just letting everyone know how turned on you get me
maxverstappen1 love you too, schat
user12 anyone else not getting it, like she is so hot and he is 😬
y/username you know that one barbie scene with the rock? that’s my maxie. also if you think he’s ugly, that’s fine, more of him for me 😍
user98 Y/N BARBIE FAN CONFIRMED
y/username priority 1: old barbie movies priority 2: max
user3 ON THE MAIN?
user33 PR monster got her, I really wanna know what she was about to say
recordlabel we don’t… we actually want bleach for our eyes
redbullracing we will share our bleach if you send us demos of her next album 👀
charlesleclerc Go on, finish the sentence, I dare you.
y/username his big heart, ego, ass, trophy case, therapy bill from childhood trauma, i could keep going on but i don’t want to make you feel emasculated
user62 okay, but like how did he bag her?
y/username he has incredible rizz, and look at him🤤
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you grin as Max lays on you lap, looking up at you with his beautiful blue eyes.
“You aren’t pregnant, Schat,” he laughs, your fingertips gently scratching his scalp.
“We could change that, get some practice in for after the wedding?” you watch his eyes widen as he quickly sits up.
“Practice makes perfect, why don’t we practice now?” Max suggests, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
Your wedding is small, only some close friends and family in attendance. The ceremony takes place in your backyard, no reception beyond a dinner afterwards.
Despite both your respective fame levels, you didn’t want anyone knowing of the marriage. Fans still thought you were dating, so when you got a positive pregnancy test, you were extra careful.
Max was grateful that you had a private recording studio in the house, for when you needed to drop the album. You didn’t mean to choose the surprise drop date to be at the end of your pregnancy, nor Father’s Day, but life worked in funny ways.
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you softly say, handing the little bundle off to Max.
“This is the best present, he’s beautiful,” Max hold back tears as he holds his son close to his chest.
“I’m not sure if I will be able to top this next year,” you laugh a little, your tiredness making an apparent after a long labor.
“You should take a nap, I’ll be okay with him,” Max runs a hand though your sweaty hair. To him, you’ve never looked more perfect.
“I have one thing to do first,” you yawn, pulling out your phone. Max slides into the hospital bed beside you, you immediately nestle into him, his warmth enveloping you.
instagram
y/username SURPRISE! midnight rain is out now! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it for the past four years. There is so much in my life that happened, so enjoy my journey through heartbreak, love, and growth. I want to quickly thank Max and my team for making this possible 💙
user1 AHHH this is so good, but didn’t she and Max break up? Why is she thanking him?
user3 dude, i think they are married, did you listen to everything else
user4 yeah, she had some songs about marriage, but she hasn’t been at any races since last year
user10 did y’all see the statement saying there won’t be a tour for the album?? crying in the club
user11 Okay, but Robin?? secret child??
maxverstappen1 endlessly proud of you, schatje
user5 we get it bro, she wrote Dress and The Alchemy about you
maxverstappen1 our little robin decided to hatch 💙
danielricciardo So happy for you and Y/n, mate. Big day for the Verstappen family, can’t wait to hold the little guy!
y/username he will love his Uncle Danny
y/username he’s perfect, just like his daddy
redbullracing what a gift for father’s day! sending our gift to you 💙
user42 guys, y/n’s song credits changed…
user21 OMG MAX AND Y/N ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A KID???
#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen
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Mine — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Art by @ave661!
Synopsis: knowing he couldn't provide you with the life you wanted, Simon breaks things off with you. Two years later, you come back to base with a baby that isn't his.
Content: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, established relationships, breeding, erotic lactation, romantic love making, praising. No beta we die like Roach.
Ghost always knew his lifestyle would forever be considered out of the norm. A soldier who risks his life every single mission, a man who has built an entire plethora of enemies in multiple countries should never even bother settling down, yet why does it hurt to bad to see you come back to base with a baby that isn't his? It was his idea to break up— not wanting to destroy your dreams of wanting a family in a gated community, even when you reassured him living together as soldiers wouldn't be an issue at all.
"Say 'hi, Simon'." You tell the baby you're carrying, the tiny thing wearing a bear onesie is looking up at Simon, pure curiosity in her eyes. She simply babbles, short arms reaching out to touch his skull mask. To your surprise and to his heart break, he leans down so your daughter can play with the hard plate of the mask, not worried at all about her breaking it.
"She looks like you." He said with a choked voice, trying his best to sound calm. He doesn't even dare look at you, his gaze focused on the tiny girl you're holding.
"Dada!" She babbles out while touching his mask and Simon's eyes immediately go towards you, soul almost leaving his body in fear of seeing disgust on your face, yet all he sees is a bashful smile adorning your pretty features. He holds in his breath, eyebrows furrowed under the balaclava as he waits for your response.
"Astrid, that's—" You begin and she interrupts, one of her tiny hands barely being able to hold one of his big skull gloved fingers. "Dada!" She insists, louder this time. There's only 3 words the little girl can say including 'Dada', so you're not all that concerned about her seeing him that way.
"Sorry, she—" You get interrupted once again, this time by Simon.
"It's okay." If being delusional and pretending this tiny thing is his daughter helps him deal with the heartbreak making his chest hurt, he doesn't mind. The girl clings to Simon's neck and you lean closer, giving her a questioning look. She never liked being held by anyone but you, often crying whenever friends tried to hold her.
"This might sound strange, but..." His gaze shifted from you to the child, heart melting at the little girl holding onto the neck of his jacket for dear life.
"Can I hold her?" His voice was hoarse, hands almost shaking from all the emotions that hit him at once.
"Of course." Your warm smile reassured him, gently passing him the baby. He supported the back of her head with his hand, easily dwarfing her entire skull, yet being so delicate with his touch you could swear he thinks your daughter is made of glass.
Simon felt light headed as the little girl was slipped into his arms, fitting perfectly in his hands. His eyes lit up when he looked down and saw her soft, chubby fingers wrap around the chain of his dog tags, a small smile forming under the balaclava. He brought her close and cradled her, heart thundering in his chest at holding this lovely girl you created.
"Dada." She pointed at him with her finger, looking back at you as she squeezed his chain with her free hand. You could swear you saw one of his eyebrows lifting in amusement under the mask, the same cocky look you know too well.
"Maybe she wants me to be her daddy." He teased you, cradling the baby delicately in his strong arms, shielding her from any danger. He was instantly smitten the second he saw her, content to have your permission to hold her even after all you both went through.
"Don't be so smug about it, bastard." You playfully roll your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder to give your little girl a kiss on the forehead, her hand holding onto your hair softly the same way you managed to teach her after one too many times of having your hair pulled by the tiny creature.
"Mama." She attempted to pet your hair the same you taught her how to pet a cat, albeit her tiny limbs moved much sloppier and with surprising strength.
"I think it's sweet." He said with a cheeky smirk, the pain in his chest going away more and more the longer he held your daughter. He was secretly hoping to get a reaction out of you after almost two years of not being able to tease you.
"You can tell her no all you want, but if she wants a dada, she's got one." As if to prove his point, he pointed with his eyes to the girl in his arms, the child reaching out towards Ghost with a giggle. His fingers tickled the baby gently, making her laugh even more. You look between Simon and the baby, a fond smile on your lips when you see just how easily they get along, the pupils in his brown eyes fully dilated as he looks down at her.
"Look at her." Ghost spoke softly, one of his skull gloved fingers running down the length of her short hair.
"She looks like an angel." He looked down at the child with nothing short of raw adoration, gaze drifting back to you, taking in the sweet moment of your body leaning against his while you both fawn over the infant. You hesitantly move away from his shoulder after a few seconds and he gives you a questioning side eye.
"I've got a meeting with Price, let me—" You reach out for your baby and he looks down at you, gaze softening.
"I can babysit for you." He offers with a hopeful look in his eyes. How can you deny anything to this man when he's holding your little girl as if he would die for her no questions asked? When those big brown eyes are looking down at you, the moisture in them clear as day? You nod your head, offering a warm smile as you give your baby one last kiss in the cheek, accidentally tickling her and making her giggle even more.
"There's a few baby bottles in the fridge, just run them over hot water for a few seconds until it's warm— but not too warm." He nods his head as you give him instructions on how to take care of the baby, listening intently. He doesn't have the heart to tell you he knows how to take care of a child— he babysat his former nephew many, many times before. He doesn't even realize he dissociated until you gently pat his shoulder, walking to Price's office.
"You and me, yeah?" He asks your baby who simply giggles in return, tiny hands going back to play with the hard plate of his skull mask.
The meeting took much longer than expected, catching up with Price and talking about your possible return to the 141. It isn't until three hours later that you go back to your quarters, heart in your throat when you turn on the lights.
Ghost is laying on your bed, civilian clothes on with a hoodie covering half of his upper face, your baby safely secured on his chest. You don't have the heart to wake them up, instead grabbing your phone and snapping a quick picture, making sure not a single feature of his face is seen for his own safety and privacy.
The change of lighting slowly wakes him up, offering you a tired smile before his eyes close again once he realizes it's just you. You take off your boots and turn off the light, sneaking into bed with your lovely baby and... your ex.
It feels too natural to even think much about it, one of his arms instantly wrapping around your shoulders to bring you closer, head resting on his chest along with the tiny offspring. He drifts off to sleep soundly with his two girls and for the first time in a long time, he's able to get a full night's sleep, not being woken up by his violent nightmares.
Weeks pass as Simon spends more and more time with you, your new contract signed the same day you had a meeting with Price, though he's not putting you on any missions yet until they figure out who will take care of your daughter while you're away. Today Gaz and Soap asked to take her out, claiming they wanted to buy some new clothes for her since she's growing up fast.
"Hey, big guy." You greet Simon, who seems to have relocated to your quarters for whatever reason— the man literally spends his whole time there and you don't even question it anymore, simply assuming he wanted to spend more time with your daughter. You know details here and there about his family, though he was never clear about the full story. You sit down next to him and he nods his head in acknowledgment, too busy looking at his phone.
"Can I buy her this?" He points his phone at you, showing you a website selling pajama pants for babies, the ones he's showing you are grey and have a skull pattern all over. You playfully roll your eyes, nodding your head before laying down next to him, head laying on his chest while you look at his phone, browsing the website together.
"You don't have to buy her things, you know?" You take a few seconds to admire his unmasked features iluminated by his phone—the soft jawline, thin pink lips, high nose and skin around his eyes that always seemed to be tainted with eye black no matter how well he washed it off.
"Telling me what to do, Sargeant?" He teased, raising an eyebrow at you and being an asshole jokingly just to make you laugh. It only earns him a slap on the arm, phone dropping right on his face. He turns his head slowly to look at you and you can recognize the look in his eyes— you try to run away but he holds you down, fingers already tickling your ribs as you laugh and struggle, trying your best to get out of his grasp to no avail.
"Pause." You kick and scream, laughter escaping your lips due to the tickles. As soon as you speak he stops, looking down at you with a tender look in his face. You gasp for air and he takes the chance to look down at your lips, so close, so inviting...
"I saw that." You tease and he jokingly pushes your head into the pillow, laying down next to you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You giggle at the remaining feeling of the tickles before laying back down on your side, hand absent-mindedly tracing patters on his defined, clothed stomach. You don't know when you both started becoming so close again, yet the comfort is always welcome in the turbulent life of a soldier.
"When's that lot coming back?" He looks down at you, longing mixed with curiosity. Truth to be told, he knows the boys will keep your baby safe, but he wants to have her right back where she belongs— in his arms.
"Like... two hours, I think. If they don't find anything too distracting. Don't worry, I made them take a jacket for her in case it gets cold." He would never tell you he was the one to put the baby jacket in the car because they all forgot.
"Good, good." He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought. It's quiet for a few minutes, both of you finding comfort in the silence before he speaks again.
"Are you planning on having another one?" He asks curiously, gaze drifting down towards you, doing his best to hide the longing and hope in his tone.
"Maybe." You keep in simple, eyes staying closed as you trace patterns on the muscles of his stomach, feeling them flex involuntarily at your touch.
"Why? Interested on having a family with me now, Simon?" You tease, an eyebrow raised at him as you finally open your eyes. He seems to be thinking about it for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding.
"Bullshit." You sit up, looking down at him with a mix of confusion and hope.
"S' the truth." He plays it off casually as if he didn't confess being ready to do the same thing that broke both of you off two years ago. He pulls you back down to his chest, fingers gently massaging your scalp. You can hear his heart beat fast, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows the knot in his throat.
You stay quiet, unsure of what to say. It's too much all at once— knowing Simon actually wanted to settle down with you bringing a mix of anxiety and fear to both of you equally. He never had a normal family, and though deep down he was scared of being like his father, he already proved to himself he can be gentle and tender, the same way he is with your daughter.
His hand slowly drifted down from your waist to the curve of your ass, softly squeezing it while looking at you for any signs of hesitation. He finds none, and instead sees you leaning closer and closer until your lips crash, the passion of two lovers who never got over one another present in the kiss.
Clothes are discharged all over the room with no care at all, the quarter walls bouncing off with a mix of your moans and his low groans, a pillow under your hips while he fucked into your cunt, slow and deep thrusts making the tip of his fat cock slam into your willing cervix.
"Gonna look so fucking pretty with my kid." He whispers into your ear, breathy groans leaving his lips as his thrusts slow down, making love to you rather than just fucking you for a quick nut. One of his hands cups your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.
"Tell me. Tell me how pretty you'll be all swollen with my baby." You hesitate and he kisses your lips gently, gaze tender while he looks down at you, thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time as he waits for you to speak.
"I'll look... so pretty—fuck— with your child." You manage to speak out between whiny moans, the way he's looking at you with pure love and adoration is all you need to confirm he does find you attractive. Truth to be told, it's difficult being confident after glint through something that permanently alters your body, yet he's looking at you like you're even more beautiful than before. In his eyes, you are.
"That's a good girl." He praises, hips rutting faster against yours as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, the nasty squelching sound every time he goes hits it hard making this even more exciting. He holds himself up with his elbows, large hands cupping your tits while he pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it like a starved man finding shelter.
"These tits are gonna be so big too." He murmurs, swallowing the milk coming out of your tits with no hesitation. His hand gets busy with your other nipple, gently pulling and squeezing the sensitive bud, not minding the milk squirting all over. It's too good to be true— your body changing so much to keep your baby healthy and soon enough, it'll change for his baby too.
"So fuckin' perfect, baby." He praises, eyes closing as he focuses on how good your wet walls are wrapping around his unprotected cock, tongue swirling around your nipple before he latches onto it again, drinking the sweet milk coming out.
"This cock's all yours." He lets go of your nipple, face seeking shelter on the crook of your neck as his thrusts get sloppier by the second, embarrassingly nasty words coming out of his lips like prayer. You're the only one allowed to ever see him like this, to have him in any possibly way. He doesn't even care how he's promising you the world, offering all of himself to you without having any doubts.
"Everyone's gonna know you're mine, love." He whispers into your ear, voice hoarse and full emotion, hips stuttering before he buries himself all the way into your cunt, cum splurging out directly into your willing, fertile womb. He keeps himself inside, caging you in with his strong arms into a protective embrace, wanting to make sure not a single drop of cum is wasted.
"All mine."
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