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hitomisuzuya · 2 months ago

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Step brother Scaramouche with a step sister reader who's just so innocent. He swore he hates her because of how dumb she is!

So why does he find himself jacking off to the thought of her???

She's annoying, a pest, a thorn to his side. That's what he tried to tell himself what she is to him- but why was he so annoyed whenever her boy best friend touches her? (Not even touching her in an intimate way!!)

But he just can't deny the need to be inside her whenever she wore revealing clothing! He usually stops himself, but this time, he snaps. Why would she wear a sleeveless crop top, miniskirt, and thigh highs when she's at home? She's clearly begging to be fucked by him..!! Does she always dress like this around men? Has she been taken by someone else before??

His questions were answered when he fucks her and finds out this is her first time.

Bondage, overstimulation, and sex with clothes on?👀

Take care, Suzu!!<3

stepcest, DNI if it makes you uncomfortable, please. scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. bondage. overstimulation. sex with clothes on. creampie. degradation.

you take care of yourself as well❤️ i may have gotten a little carried away with this😅

the second scaramouche saw a peek of a garter belt around your thigh, revealed by the slight bouncing of the pleats on your short skirt when you walked by him, he had make a break for a room.

biting his lips to muffle his curses and moans, he fisted his cock to the thought of fucking his delicate stepsister in only those thigh highs and garter belt. god, you are so fucking annoying. he couldn't stand that you were breathing the same air as him. following him around like a puppy..no a pest, smelling so fucking good in outfits that practically made him drool all over himself. made his cock pulse and ache.

and yet, he couldn't get you and all your cute, kind hearted naivety out of his head.

just jacking off to porn didn't do it for him anymore. because he only imagined fucking you in those positions. just the other day, he'd been one millimeter from losing his shit when his best friend accidentally brushed up against you in passing the other day.

it wasn't sexual, but would you have known it wasn't? did you even know what you did to him? you certainly didn't know he regularly jacked himself off thinking about you, cumming so hard in his hand that it left him panting after.

no sooner had he cleaned his hand off and put his dick back in his jeans, a soft knock sounded on his bedroom door. a shy knock that he could never mistake. "scara? are you okay?" god your voice sounds so innocent and cute. he bet you would make the cutest sounding moans while fucked his cock inside of you.

"what?" he snapped, annoyed. he knew if he opened that door, he would see you in that revealing outfit. his cock was already hardening just thinking about it.

"you left the kitchen in such a hurry. you aren't sick, are you?" he could see your shadow under the crack of his bedroom door. you were undoubtedly playing with your lower lip in that annoying way all shyly as you waited for his answer. he wanted so badly to nibble on that lower lip of yours, pining you underneath him while he devoured your mouth with his tongue.

sighing, scaramouche opened his bedroom door. you probably wouldn't go away until you saw that he wasn't sick. just lovesick. he grit his teeth to keep his eyes from wandering to curving dip in your hips. a curving dip that screamed breedable hips.

"i am glad you aren--" you began, looking relieved. a tch cut you off.

grabbing your wrist, scaramouche tugged you into his room and firmly shut the door. "look at you. believe me, it's cute how pester me for my attention. but do you know what you do to me? especially wearing this?" he couldn't stop his eyes now. a man could only take so much.

"w-what?" here comes that innocent naivety that made his cock absolutely ache. a blush dusted your cheeks. your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up into his glaring eyes. how could you possibly tell your stepbrother you are in love with him?

you weren't supposed to have feelings for your stepbrother.

"my god, are you dumb? do you know how close i came to bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking you earlier?" he is almost shaking he could barely hold himself back. his hands were already reaching out to finally grasp you as you started to answer him.

"i really want your attention," you said shyly, the blush darkening slightly on your cheeks. it was almost embarrassing how wet being asked if you were dumb made you. something so insulting shouldn't sound so good coming from his mouth.

"you fucking got it," he hissed. you have had his attention as well as his cock's attention from day one. his lips roughly crashed against yours. scaramouche has always been an emotionally impulsive person. he was amazed he'd held himself back as long as he did.

pushing his tongue into your mouth, he ran his fingers through your silky, utterly pullable hair as he guided you towards his bed. your mouth alone tasted sweeter than he imagined.

you wrapped your arms around him, moaning softly into his mouth. it such a shiver through him how easily you let him wrestle your tongue into submission. wanting to test how rough he could be with you, he tugged on your hair a little.

a visible shiver went through you, his mouth swallowing a louder moan. an electric jolt went right to your clit as you wrapped your arms around him. you pressed your body up against his, relaxing into his rough demeanor.

you were serving yourself up to him on a silver platter.

he pushed you onto your back on his bed, wasting no time in crawling on top you. his lips never left yours, the way you melted in his grasp is intoxicating to him. you felt your body practically purr as he rested his weight on top of you.

panting, scaramouche pulled away. "do me a favor, doll, and put your arms above your head," he purred the command, his cock straining harder in his jeans watching you do exactly as he asked.

sitting up, he unbuckled his belt and wrapped it around your wrists, buckling the belt securely to his headboard. there was no going back now, and he would damned if he was going to stop.

not especially when your wrists that you oh so willingly offered to him looked so delicate bound together by his belt.

"scara, i don't know what to do. my body has been aching so much lately. all i can think about is you," you said meekly, your eyes filled with such desperation as unfamiliar lust coursed strongly through you. lust you only felt when you looked at him.

grasping your chin, scaramouche pressed another harsh kiss on your lips. "you just fucking relax and let me take care of you. i'll make that ache go away," he finally heard the words he'd been dying to hear from your pretty mouth.

he hastily pulled your crop top down off your breasts, feasting his eyes on the fact that your perfect breasts weren't confined to a bra today. a shaky moans tore from your throat as his tip of his tongue flicked and swirled around nipple, hardening it on his tongue.

you moved arched your chest up slightly into his mouth, making him grasp your other breast greedily. his fingers pinching and stroking your nipples made your clit throb more, your hips jerking up to grind against the tent in his jeans.

growling against your breast, he hastily reached down to unbutton his jeans and finally free his straining cock. his hand left your breast to bunch your skirt up over your hips. he laughed shakily watching you raise your hips up to make it easier for him.

"slut, you have thought about this too, haven't you?" his cock pulsed seeing your shy little nod as he moved your panties aside. the fabric peeled from your pussy, juices pooling messy between your folds.

he is going to enjoy finally devouring you.

he parted your folds with his fingers, smirking in dark satisfaction as your juices soaked onto them. he wagged his index finger around and around your clit, basking in the way you rubbed your clit against it, desperately seeking more friction.

the more your clit throbbed, the more you started to squirm. scaramouche was getting off watching you squirm, grinding your pussy on his fingers. he was making you squirm in the way you made him internally squirm while he held himself from fucking you.

pleasure tingled through your whole body, your eyes growing hazy as your walls started to clench around nothing. he was right about you having the cutest sounding moans. moans he wanted to turn into screams of pleasure while he made you cum on his cock.

you let out a whine of protest as he took his fingers off your clit to lick them. "sc-scara," you whimpered desperately. your body was twitching, overloaded with stimulation. it only made him more needier.

grasping his cock, he hastily pushed it past your entrance. "so fucking tight," he groaned, slowly stretching you apart before he bottomed out. he felt your body tense with momentary pain. he delivered a soothing pinch on your nipple to stimulate you into relaxing before he started thrusting. "i guessed you were a virgin."

you couldn't answer him. at least not with coherent words. pleasure was quickly overwhelming the brief pain. moans you didn't think you capable of making tore loud from your throat, jolts of pleasure nearly shattering you as his cock kissed with repeated accuracy into your sweet spot.

"you are all mine now," scaramouche moaned, gritting his teeth as his cock throbbed harder between your walls. "only i can fuck my cock inside of you, do you understand, slut?" he shuddered in pleasure as your walls squeezed tighter on his cock. "i want to hear you say you understand."

your wrists strained in his belt as you writhed underneath him. his domineering command sent your orgasm to coil tighter in your core. "yes, yes! it's only you i want! i only want your cock inside of me!" you cried out.

your words sent thick ribbons of cum inside of you. your toes curled in bliss, having him cum inside of you was more intimate than you possibly imagined. if your wrists hadn't been bound above your head, you would've clung to him, shaking as your orgasm washed over you.

satisfied, scaramouche pulled out once he thoroughly fucked his cum up inside of you. "if the mom's leave again for the night, you are coming to my room and you aren't leaving until the morning."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #tw stepcest #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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604to647 · 1 month ago

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Brandy by the Fireplace

7.8K / Frankie Morales x City Girl!reader

Summary: When your best friend's boyfriend invites her up to the cabin he owns with his Delta Force buddies, she asks you to come along.

Warnings: None! Fluff! Insecurity and anxiety on reader's part, but Frankie makes it better (anxiety/comfort. My anxious girlies (gn) who think everyone hates them when they definitely don't? This one's for you 🥹). Nicknames because it's me. Oh, and Tom's alive?

A/N 1: Written and very late for @auteurdelabre's Trope Off Challenge - the trope here is Fish out of water because, well you know🤭🤭 Can be considered a Triple Frontier AU, or set before the events of the movie. Though I'm not sure I'm 100% satisfied with this and the word count got away from me, I still think it's cute and very seasonal - I hope others do too!

A/N 2: As I understand it, the cottage v. cabin lexiconic difference is a Canadian thing. When people think of cottage country, it's primarily the luxury getaway experience in the Muskokas. Super fancy! Celebrities cottage there (the Beckhams, Cindy Crawford) and the properties are huge lakefront estates. While in Western Canada, people primarily have cabins - they're more rugged, remote. In no way am I saying that cottages are better than cabins! They are just different - both enjoyable and picturesque in their own way. But you gotta know what you're in for, cause of packing and stuff... 😅😅

Trailer / CABIN dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘😘

This was such an effing mistake.

You sniffle as you sit cross-legged on the simple threadbare sheets covering the thin mattress that you’ve called bed for the last two nights. You’re holding your favourite fleece sweater in your hands, looking at the scorch marks where flareups from tonight’s bonfire had jumped from the pit and burned multiple holes - the black charred spots on the fabric blurring as your tears finally spill over.

I shouldn’t have come.

A ruined sweater in and of itself wasn’t the end of world. But a ruined sweater here? Tonight? It’s just the freaking cherry on top of the already disastrous sundae that was this weeklong vacation so far.

And you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself.

When your best friend Jenny begged you to come with her to her boyfriend’s cabin for a week, you had readily agreed. You love Benny and he and Jenny are so adorable, if not a bit too overly mushy and cheesy (“We’re the better Bennifer! Woo - Benny and Jenny!!”). He and his old army buddies had gone in together on a cabin on a lake about seven hours out of the city at the suggestion of their Veterans Affairs therapist – something about working the land and finding serenity in nature to help them overcome some of the harder things they’ve seen over their time in service.

It apparently did wonders for them. Both Benny and his older brother, Will, who you had met a few times, were easy going and kind men - maybe a little rough and tumble with each other sometimes, but you didn’t see it as anything more than filial comradery and brotherly love. Jenny assured you that Benny’s other friends, Santi, Tom and Frankie were all cut from the same cloth.

Benny had invited Jenny up to the cabin for the boys’ annual Autumn weeklong trip – taking advantage of any remaining mild weather from the end of summer to clean and close up the cabin for the Fall and Winter. All the boys would be there and Tom’s sisters had been invited as well – Jenny begged you to come for support and of course you had said yes.

Sure, you’re a city girl through and through, but this wouldn’t be your first cottaging experience. You fondly recall the summers and Thanksgivings you had been invited to your college roommate’s family cottage in the Muskokas: crystalline waters and lush greenery bordered the beautifully landscaped acreage upon which your still close friend’s family’s 9 bedroom-9 bath modern estate resided. Summer days were wiled away on the built-in dock lounging and reading, and the cooler temperature evenings were spent inside by one of the several contemporary fireplaces, sipping on cocktails and nibbling on charcuterie. It was always such a treat to go - you haven’t visited in ages, but a similar getaway right now sounds like heaven.

Your first clue that perhaps this might not be the Muskoka cottage country experience you imagined, is when the last leg of your seven-hour journey in Benny’s truck was over a 30-minute dirt road so twisty and uneven that you started to feel a little nauseous.

When you got out of the truck, you realized the true folly of your assumptions about where you were going to be staying this week. The property could best be described as rustic and very "nature forward", the only evidence of landscaping being the dirt worn paths that led to the different cabins. Instead of one main house, there is a Main Cabin – consisting of a living room area, place to eat, kitchen and the compound’s one bathroom. All guests stay in individual cabins, isolated and spaced out at various points on the large property. Each so far apart and separated by the lush, dense forest, you don't even know where they all are: Upper Cabin (Benny and Jenny), Delta Cabin (Santi), Bunk Cabin (Frankie), Screened-In Veranda Cabin (You), New Cabin (Tom’s Sisters), Outhouse Cabin (no one), Grizzly Cabin (Will and Tom).

You’re not opposed to roughing it a little, but by the error of your own expectations, you’ve come thoroughly unprepared for your week’s stay. For one thing, your cabin (as the name would suggest), along with all the others, has no windows - only screens. Perfect for the hot summers, but with Fall coming early this year, the clothes you packed aren’t warm enough to shield you against the chill that blows over your bed each night. For another, you find yourself sharing space with more critters that you were expecting, and not the adorable furry types either.

The frog that came out of the one toilet made you almost consider using the outhouse up by the parking lot (almost). And when you were washing your face that first night, the realization that the running tap was the only thing that was keeping the cricket from jumping out of the sink, forced you to stifle a scream that left your throat hoarse. There are all together more bugs indoors than you had expected (since you had expected windows).

It's definitely more rustic that you’re used to, but you really do try to make the best of it. The last thing you want is to appear rude or snobbish about the decidedly non-luxurious state of your accommodations. Sure, it isn’t the glamourous cottage experience you had expected, but it’s still incredibly beautiful and serene here. Moreover, you know that every cabin and amenity on the property was built by Benny and his friends and has served incredible therapeutic purpose for each of them. You would never want to diminish that by somehow implying that the cottage isn’t… cottaging; this place serves a much more important purpose than impressing the likes of city girls guests like you.

You also don’t forget that the entire reason you’re here is to support Jenny. Make sure she and Benny have fun. And they are! Inseparable, giddy, googly-eyed fun. No way are you going to ruin her perfectly good time by letting her worry about you, not when this is the first healthy relationship she’s had in years.

And honestly, everyone is so, so nice. Benny and Will’s Delta Force teammates are as good humoured and sweet as they are. There’s Santiago (or Santi), the unofficial leader of the crew – his hooded brown eyes look like they could tell a hundred stories, but he keeps your group entertained with the loudest and most fantastic ones, always framing his stories so that they rib at least one of his buddies. Tom, the eldest of the friends, is more serious – the type who might exude an intimidating gravitas if you were to meet him alone, but next to the verbose energy of Benny and Santi and under the watchful eye of his sisters, he seems to relax, smiling pleasantly and genuinely while in the comforting presence of his friends. Will, who is just as boyishly handsome as his brother, you already know to be as easy going and funny - though maybe a little less goofy than Benny. Despite what Jenny had slyly insinuated to you before you left, you don’t think Will has any interest in you – and with Tom’s gorgeous and outgoing sisters both vying for his attention, the circumstances aren't right to try and see if there’s anything to Jenny's (and possibly Benny’s?) matchmaking.

The last member of the friend group is Frankie, who the guys sometimes inexplicably call ‘Catfish’ – he was noticeably reserved at first, though you soon realize that he’s just as funny and generous as the others. Frankie's steely and calm countenance seems borne out of necessity, likely from the many years of service where his competence and levelheadedness were needed to keep the other four in check, alive. You notice that he often sits a little further back from the group, most likely out of habit, literally watching their backs; he’s quieter and less rowdy, but never fails to join in his friends’ laughter – it’s obvious to you that he loves his brothers in arms. Once or twice, you think you feel Franke's deep, soulful eyes pointed in your direction, but when you try to meet his gaze, those same eyes disappear beneath the brim of his worn Standard Oil cap that never seems to leave his head. You think you probably imagine it.

Everyone is so much fun to be around, super nice and completely welcoming of you.

They just… don’t really need you here. Well, that seems presumptuous! Rather, there doesn’t seem to be a place for you here the same way there is for everyone else.

It was evident from the first day when the boys pulled a small catamaran out of the boathouse and attempted to try (again, from what you’re told) to put it together and get it out on the water. Every person was asked to help pull on the trampoline netting – when it was evident that your limited strength and poor (manicured) grip on the netting wasn’t actually doing anything except making you an extra body in the way, you were relegated to standing on the side, holding a spray can of lubricant and waiting to spray it on the track if someone needed. No one ever did. The trampoline never got installed, and you can’t help but think it was partially because you hadn’t been able to provide the additional muscle needed.

During the day, everyone seems to engage in some type of cabin maintenance work from an unseen to-do list: painting screens, sanding down the canoe, pulling up old raspberry bushes, fixing doors and hinges in various cabins, retiling the one shower and installing a new sliding glass door, replacing the hot water pump’s aging parts, reinforcing the mesh around the young fruit trees to deter deer, repairing the older slats on the dock, removing the beaver dam under the dock, and so on and so forth.

All things you have absolutely no qualifications to help with and would likely hinder someone who did if you tried.

Jenny wasn’t terribly handy either, but she tagged along with Benny on all his chores and he didn’t mind patiently explaining and helping her help him with his tasks - the two of them giggling and in love as they winterized the boat shed.

Everyone else seems to know their daily assignments and go about their hard and dirty labour, leaving you alone to… do nothing? It felt rude to sit out on the lawn and relax while others did work around you. And even inside there's not much you can do; Tom’s sisters had brought up food for the first few meals and when you asked them if you could help, they insisted that they had it in hand and told you to “go have fun”. You chastise yourself for having not asked more questions about what you and Jenny could have brought and if you and her could have signed up to cook your share of meals.

You hide out in the Main Cabin or in your own for most of the day, reading and feeling guilty - coming down periodically to chat with people but feeling like you’re distracting them from their duties.

Even after dinner when you volunteered to help do the dishes and clean-up, you were cheerfully shooed away by Santi after you couldn’t find where to put back the cutlery, then the glasses, then the lids to the pots (which were inexplicably kept separate from the pots themselves) – you’re sure there’s a system, you just don’t know what it is.

Maybe it would be different if you knew everyone better, but this is the first time you’re meeting everyone except Benny and Will. You don’t know any of the guys particularly well but you do know that this cabin is their special place – you don’t want be a bother or ruin anyone’s good time.

To you, it's clear that you’re not carrying your weight here - the last thing you want to be is a nuisance as well. You don’t fit in and you definitely don’t belong.

Tonight has finally felt a little more comfortable. After a full day of work for everyone (else) and a belly bursting dinner, the boys set up a bonfire and everyone got together to roast marshmallows and make s'mores. In addition to looking forward to the melty treats, you were secretly glad for the warmth of the fire in the chilly evening air. Beers were cracked, marshmallows burnt, and the stories the boys told had your sides aching from so much laughter you’re sure you’ll still feel it in the morning. But as the fire was dying, the conversation turned to what everyone’s up to tomorrow, you once again have nothing to say that's comparable to the tasks and chores listed by the others. When Tom comments that there are still so many things to do in order to properly winterize the cabins and that it’ll be a wonder if it all gets done, you look down at your feet - face burning from the guilt and shame of being unable to contribute when help is indeed needed. You’re sure everyone is thinking that you’re just a freeloader from the city, or worse, lazy and unwilling to put in some work. Suddenly the last few bites of the s'more in your hand don’t look as appetizing anymore.

You excuse yourself from the group and quickly get ready for bed before heading up to your cabin for the night. Once settled in, that’s when you discover that your sweater is full of newly burnt holes and you lose it.

Luckily, the cabins are all fairly far apart so no one can hear your crying, but your gratitude for the isolation and quiet of the cabins is short-lived; as it's been every night, the silence of the woods in the dark is deafening. So used to the ambient noise of the city, you find that every snap of a branch or hoot of an owl slices through the night and rings out as loud as a gunshot. You lay in bed like each night before, unable to get comfortable or calm and falling asleep only when exhaustion overtakes you.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of chirping birds and the brightness of the morning sun punctuated by the shouts and loud chatter from down near the water where people are already starting their daily chores. Another wave of guilt and anxiety sets in as you feel like you’ve had an undeserved lie-in - resting while everyone else got up early to do work.

On your way down to the Main Cabin, you see and wave good morning to Frankie who’s transporting relatively heavy chunks of wood tucked under his beefy arms. You don’t ask if you can help – how could you? Each stump he carries looks like it could topple you over even if you managed to lift one.

When you get down to the lawn, you catch Will and Tom’s sisters as they head up to one of the cabins with paint cans and brushes and Will cheerily calls to you, “Saved you some breakfast!” His completely innocent and kind pronouncement sends your already tightly strung heart into another spiral and you try not to tear up as you call back your thanks.

You eat by yourself from the plates left out for you and feel a little better when you can at least wash them and leave them in the drying rack. Pouring yourself the coffee that’s left in the cannister, you grimace at it’s lukewarmness, but you don’t know where the grounds are kept or even how to operate the ancient stovetop coffee maker to make more, so you make do and drink it sort of sadly as you return to the dining table and open your book.

It's here where Frankie finds you a few hours after you saw him last.

He asks kindly after your book before saying he’s going to make a fresh pot of coffee and offers to top you off; when you get up to help – he tells you he’s got it before disappearing into the kitchen. Slightly discouraged, you sit back down; unless you spy on Frankie, there’s no way for you to learn how to make the coffee here - and you’re just debating if you should do just that when he pokes his head back in, “Do you want me to show you how to make the coffee?”

Eagerly, you nod and hurry to join him in the kitchen, making note of where the fresh coffee grounds are stored and listening attentively as Frankie patiently shows you how to work the vintage contraption that Santi rescued from a yard sale. He smiles at your willing face, wondering why you’re so fascinated by something as mundane as their overly complicated coffee maker, but when you thank him, voice almost quivering with overly emotional gratitude, Frankie’s sure there’s more to it than he’s understanding.

He's been watching you, Benny’s girlfriend pretty friend, over the last two days and can't quite figure you out. It’s clear that you’re not used to roughing it in these types of conditions, but you don’t complain or make fun – though there is a tinge of melancholy and anxiety to the gentleness of your expressions that he does understand all too well. You seem sweet and friendly, and Benny certainly speaks warmly of you – but for some reason, you don’t seem entirely comfortable and Frankie wouldn’t be the Army strategist he is if he didn’t notice. Or a very good host.

“Do you want to go for a row while the coffee drips?”

“A row?” You look up, confused.

“Yeah, in the row boat. Come on – this old thing takes forever. We could probably get a good way to the middle of the lake and head back before it’s done,” nods Frankie, encouragingly.

This is the first time since the disastrous catamaran trampoline that anyone has asked you to do anything with them during the day, and you’re surprised by how touched you are by the simple gesture. Unable to find the words to express how appreciative you feel, you simply nod.

Frankie pushes the old tin boat that you saw him sealing and painting on the beach yesterday partway into the water, helping you in first before pushing the boat all the way in then jumping in himself, two big wooden oars under his arm. He sits across from you, locks the oars into the oarlocks and starts rowing; his powerful arms rotating the paddles with ease, slicing them through the clear, calm water and gently gliding the boat across the lake.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, and you look over the side of the boat in wonder as the sand bed below slowly disappears and the water gets darker and deeper. Sighing, you contently breathe in the fresh, crisp Fall air and enjoy the picturesque view of the far off shores and mountains before settling your gaze on the handsome man in front of you. The ripples and flex of Frankie’s bulging muscles under his shirt as he expertly rows are near mesmerizing, every hypnotic stroke powerful and purposeful.

“You’re not having fun, are you?”

You look up, ashamed. You've been trying so hard to hide that you're not 100% comfortable being here, it's embarrassing to get confirmation that you've failed in this regard. Even if the others could tell you weren’t having fun, you hope you haven’t come off as an ungrateful guest or made any of your hosts feel bad. You’re about to say so and apologize, but something about the way Frankie’s looking at you, kind and soft and not at all judgmental or accusatory, gives you pause. It’s like he’s genuinely extending an opportunity for you to let go of what you’ve been bottling up since you got here – maybe that’s why he brought you out to the middle of the lake? Frankie's sincere eyes bore into your own and his gentle demeanor invites you to let down your guard; deflating, you burst into tears, “I’m not!! I’m so sorry, Frankie!!”

Hurriedly, you try to compensate, “Goodness, please don’t think I’m complaining – it’s so beautiful and peaceful here, and Benny told me how much effort you guys have put into this place! Honestly, your care and hard work really shows – everything is so nice. It’s just really, really different from the one other cottage experience I’ve had – so I didn’t even pack right. And I thought there would be a lot more relaxing and lazing around – I really don't know what to do with myself here.”

“Where did you cottage before?”

“The Muskokas?”

Frankie lets out such a loud, belly-shaking laugh that shakes the whole boat; you actually hold onto the sides afraid you might tip over, but find yourself beaming at having drawn out this melodic sound from the normally stoic man.

“Well, City Girl, no wonder this place was a shock to you! The Muskokas is a very particular cottaging experience – real pretty and real glamourous. But the rest of us? What we have aren’t even cottages. They’re cabins. This is cabin country,” he laughs good naturedly.

“Right - cabins!” you grin.

“Sorry to disappoint you, City Girl.”

“No, no! Please don’t think that - I’m not disappointed at all! I just came in with the wrong expectations, that’s all. That’s all on me, Frankie. Really, the cabin is lovely – I was just expecting a more… cashmere sweaters and brandy snifters around the fireplace kind of a vibe.” You hope Frankie won’t take your joke the wrong way.

Luckily, Frankie gives you another easy smile, one that reveals an adorable dimple in his right cheek you haven’t had a chance to notice before, “Yeah, we’re more of a bats in the ceiling, on-going maintenance kind of vibe.”

At this, your face falls and your own shortcomings to contribute when everyone else is working so hard claws at your chest painfully.

Frankie immediately clocks the change in your demeanor, “Hey, pretty girl, it’s okay.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes, too distressed to notice the new nickname, “No it’s not, Frankie. You’re right – everyone is chipping in, helping out to keep this place beautiful and running smoothly, except me. I’m not used to this kind work, so I don’t really know what needs to get done… and even if I did… I mean you saw with the catamaran? I’m not strong or skilled enough to do any of it. I thought I could help out with some of the indoor stuff, like cooking and cleaning up, but I don’t know where anything is and everyone is so busy, I feel like such a nuisance bothering them even more in order to show me. So… I don’t know what I’m doing here – it doesn’t feel right to be sitting around and reading like I’m some kind of pampered houseguest while everyone around me is working, but I also don’t think I can add value anywhere. I just don’t think I belong out here with you guys. And I thought I was at least hiding it well, but it's obviously noticeable how much I don’t fit in because you rowed me out here to confront me about it. I’m sorry to be so much trouble, Frankie.”

You take a deep breath after your long speech and look down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever.

Frankie leans over from his seat, causing the boat to rock slightly and tilts your face up to his with two of his thick fingers, “You’re no trouble at all, pretty girl. It’s okay if this place is too rustic for ya. It’s really rustic… and that’s by design.” He smiles reassuringly, keen to comfort you, “I know Benny told you that this cabin is sort of therapy for us guys? We saw some... less-than-ideal things on a lot of our missions. All our missions, actually. The VA counsellors suggested that we try and work through having seen so much that’s been broken, and maybe even having done some of the breaking ourselves, by getting a project where we come together as a team to focus on improving and building. It’s meant to need constant ongoing maintenance and have a never-ending list of chores so we can put our energy into building up instead of what we used to do… tearing down. For the most part, the cabin has been good for us – working with our hands, being responsible for something that isn’t life or death, working towards a common goal where we can be together and enjoy each other’s company in a setting that’s not… exploding.”

Frankie chuckles at his little joke so not to scare you off with the intensity of the topic. He’s relieved to see that your expression is one of sympathy and understanding, your eyes warm and gentle. He thinks your eyes are beautiful, deep, kind – he might easily get lost in them if he didn’t remember that he’s supposed to be comforting you, “It really is meant for the five of us to be putting in the work, but I know what you’re saying, it’s not a great feeling to be left out, even if you know no one’s doing it on purpose. I’m sorry – we should be better hosts. You’re our guest.”

You start to shake your head in protest at this, but Frankie stops you when he picks up the oars and dips them back in the water to start rowing again, “Tell you what, it’s my turn to make lunch today - why don’t you come and help me. I’ll show you where we keep everything so you’ll know in case you ever want to… help out in the kitchen again. I promise you can ask me any questions you want and it won’t bother me at all.”

Perking up at Frankie’s generous offer, you nod happily, “Okay! Thank you, Frankie – that’s really sweet of you.” It’s probably the first truly joyful smile you’ve smiled since you got here and Frankie thinks you look radiant.

The two of you glide slowly across the still lake in comfortable silence, Frankie purposefully not putting too much power into his oar strokes. Trying to discreetly wipe your cheeks, you feel their warmth as you spy on the handsome man across from you through your tear dotted lashes. You feel so safe and cared for - your heart grateful that Frankie noticed you were out of sorts despite having only met you a few days ago and was considerate enough to ask after you.

His teasing voice cuts through your thoughts, “Is there anything else, City Girl?”

“Hmmmmm?”

“Is there anything else that's been bothering you while you’re out here?”

You bite your lip and shake your head; Frankie has been so kind, you don’t want to push it and appear to complain.

“Come on, I know there is. Go on, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl – there’s that term of endearment again. This time when you hear it, your heart swells and your face flushes – and maybe your thighs press together a little, too. To try and cover up your reaction, you spill your last embarrassing grievance, “Ummmm… it’s kind of spooky at night.”

Frankie booms another side-splitting, deep rumble of a laugh and you instantly feel better, “It’s just sooooo quiet and everyone is so far from one another. I guess I’m used to background city noises and the feeling of people being around. It's been a bit unsettling laying in the dark in silence, hearing every little twig snap.” You cover your eyes, “Plus I packed so poorly for the trip because I thought it was going to be a… cottage. I definitely didn’t bring warm enough clothes. I brought a TON of self-care stuff though – maybe I should try layering some face masks.” It feels so good to be able to lightheartedly make fun of yourself again.

Frankie laughs with you, then looks thoughtful, “Ok, ok, the chilliness I think I can help you out with. The spookiness… got to circle back to that.”

“Thanks, Frankie.” You mean it sincerely. Even having been able to talk to him about your unease makes you dread the upcoming night a lot less.

Back at the beach, Frankie hops out of the boat and reaches in to help you out - when your fingers touch his, a little spark lingers and your heartbeat picks up a bit. Hand in hand, the two of you walk back to the Main Cabin together, not letting go until you enter the kitchen.

---

After Frankie patiently shows you the pantry, the freezers, and where all the kitchen items are, he makes sure you have a passing familiarity with everything before the two of you make wraps for everyone. You find him to be endearingly funny, terribly sweet, and a wonderful conversationalist – Frankie tells you about his work and adventures as a charter pilot, and listens intently as you answer his questions about your work and life in the city. You almost regret calling everyone in for lunch, but the feeling of being able to offer people something after their morning of hard work has brightened your spirits significantly - it feels like a tremendous weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

You don’t know that the obvious change in your countenance fills Frankie with pride and joy, nor do you see the way he gazes at you with fondness as you cheerfully hand out the wraps or when you jump up after lunch is over and hurry to clear the table.

The next day, you’re returning from a solo walk along the trail that runs behind the cabins on the bay, when you come upon an unfamiliar noise as you approach the boys’ property.

It sounds like a loud and sharp sudden crack accompanied by a low manly grunt, then followed by a couple of softer thuds. The echoing combination repeats it self at slightly varying intervals and gets progressively louder until you come upon its source.

From behind a large Spruce tree, you see that it’s Frankie chopping wood.

Frankie repeatedly brings his axe down on the log pieces he’s set up on the chopping block with precision and power. His sweat soaked shirt is stretched taut across his broad back, the damp fabric doing nothing but accentuate the thick muscles that flex and contract with every burly movement.

Though Frankie’s breathing is heavy, you can tell he isn’t even close to being winded - his strength and rugged athleticism evident by the way he relentlessly labours on, splitting log after log.

Every subsequent swing of the axe captivates you further; a wetness pools in your mouth that you have to force yourself to swallow, lest it spill over and you get caught drooling.

"Wanna give me a hand, City Girl?"

Shit.

Emerging from behind what you now realize looks like a hiding spot, you give Frankie a sheepish smile, “Oh, ummm… you look like you have it pretty well handled. Not sure if I could even make a dent in one of those logs.”

Frankie takes off his signature cap and uses the back of the same hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead - he chuckles and his eyes twinkle, “Could you help me gather and stack the wood I split onto that rack over there? And bring me new logs to chop from that other pile there?”

You nod enthusiastically. Frankie’s making work for you and you’re so thankful and excited to help.

For the next hour, you run around gathering the firewood that Frankie splinters and set him up with fresh logs. When you apologize that it takes you so long to carry the larger rounds to him, he tells you not to worry – it gives him a chance to catch his breath and take a much-needed rest. You don’t tell Frankie that he doesn’t look like he needs any rest at all – your own quickened breaths have very little to do with physical exertion and more to do with ogling Frankie’s broad and brawny frame, and the way the entirety of his strapping body is thrown into each axe swing, every muscle engaged, tensed. It’s similar to the way he looked when he effortlessly rowed the two of you in the tin boat across the lake, but like… a hundred times more burly.

You try to distract yourself from openly drooling at Frankie’s sweat soaked torso by expertly arranging the firewood on the rack so that it fits perfectly together like a Tetris puzzle. When the last piece has been placed on top, Frankie marvels that the firewood storage has never looked more organized and with one hand still holding on to his axe, he takes your soft hand in his other and leads you down to lunch.

Over the next couple of days, you notice that Frankie goes out of his way to make sure you’re not alone or hiding out in any of the cabins.

He takes you out in Benny’s truck to run in-town errands like picking up additional groceries or getting gas for the boat. These trips are always filled with fun and easy conversation and end with a treat at the ice cream shop on the main road. Frankie teases you on how you always flit from freezer to freezer, determined to try a flavour you’ve never had, and you groan at how he sticks to his tried-and-true mint chocolate chip.

You’re getting bolder at offering to do the indoor, more domestic tasks and chores that you know you have the skills to handle like making meals and cleaning up; more often than not, without you asking, Frankie will join you in the kitchen. Even though you tell him to relax and that he deserves rest after his physical exertions of the day, Frankie stays and hangs out - casually drying dishes, tasting your sauces, leaning his massive figure against the counter and discreetly pointing to various cabinets and drawers when you forget where things go.

Frankie makes you laugh with his quippy jokes and clever little observations, and he makes your cheeks warm with his subtle and sweet flirting. But mostly, he makes you feel so included, relaxed and accepted – his kindness at having taken you under his wing and giving priority to your comfort and enjoyment at the cabin makes your heart positively sing.

Since the day he took you out on the rowboat, Frankie has come to visit you in the Screened-In Veranda cabin every night. The first night, it’s to bring you extra blankets and one of his thick hoodies – all of it you accept gratefully; he also brings a pack of playing cards and the two of you play Big Two until you can barely keep your eyes open. Making sure you're bundled up in his hoodie, Frankie leaves you to sleep under a comically thick stack of blankets and happily swathed in his manly musk.

The next night, he brings you an old worn box of Rummy-O, explaining that he and the boys try to buy old games from garage sales to bring up to the cabin, even ones they’ve never played before. You’ve never played either, and for the next few nights, you and Frankie spread the tiles over your bedspread and become Rummy-O experts, stopping only when you’re too tired to keep playing - then and only then does Frankie leave you before traipsing back to his own cabin.

Embarrassingly, it takes you until tonight to figure out what he's up to.

“I know what you’re doing,” you grin in the dimly lit cabin as Frankie dons a Korean face mask and lets you give him a cuticle oil treatment.

“I’m getting pampered,” Frankie murmurs from where he lays, careful not to move his face lest the sheet mask slips.

“You’ve been keeping me company every night until I get sleepy so I don’t have to lie here in the dark and be scared,” you look at him warmly, in awe of this tender-hearted man’s goodness.

You see one eye open in the eye hole cut-out of the mask and the corners of the one for the mouth tug up a little, “Has it been working?”

“Yes and thank you. And I think your hoodie and the blankets you brought really helped too – the nights feels way cozier now.”

“Good. I’m glad. Now do you have anything that’s going to help with these bags under my eyes?”

You cackle, sure that the sound of your and Frankie’s joint laughter must carry clear across the lake.

It’s the last night at the cabin and the whole group is out tonight for another bonfire. You’re nice and snug in Frankie’s hoodie, giggling with Jenny, who you feel like you’ve barely seen this whole week – she fills you in on all eight hundred of the adorable things Benny has done for her this week and you’re over the moon seeing her so completely in love. The entire group is in great spirits, toasting to another successful season at the cottage, all the shared memories, new and old stories to tell, and the delicious food eaten over this week. Your dinners for the latter half of the week are praised, and when you bury your face in the oversized sleeves of Frankie's hoodie in embarrassment, you feel his strong arm curl proudly around your shoulders and you positively kvell.

The drinks flow liberally tonight with no one needing to wake up early and the only chore on anyone’s list being packing. About halfway through tonight’s bonfire, Frankie slips away from the group; everyone is too caught up in their own conversations to notice it, but you immediately miss having his comforting presence close by. You’re just about to ask Jenny for the tea on why Tom’s sisters seemed to be giving Will the cold shoulder when you hear Frankie’s dulcet baritone low in your ear, “Hey, City Girl, can I show you something?”

Getting up, you leave the others at the bonfire and follow Frankie back into the Main Cabin. He ushers you towards the main living room and when you enter, the sight that greets you stops you in your tracks with a gasp. The darkened room is lit bright and warm from the fire that Frankie’s laid in the fireplace, the flames crackling slow and calm – he must have been stoking it for a while. In front of the glowing fire is a little carpeted area with cushions arranged purposefully to create a makeshift sitting area. In the middle sits two brandy snifters filled with an amber gold liquid.

“Frankie, what’s all this?” you exclaim, eyes bright as you turn to look at the handsome, affectionate man who brought you here.

Gesturing for you to sit down in front of the gently roaring fire and handing you one of the glasses as you settle in, Franke shyly explains, “Wasn’t able to swing any cashmere sweaters, but I wanted to give you your brandy by the fireplace cottage experience.”

Rendered speechless by how cute and thoughtful Frankie is - all you can do is give him a doe-eyed look of awe as you sip the liquor he managed to procure. For you.

“Thank you, Frankie. This is perfect. But if I’m being honest, I’ve quite warmed up to the cabin experience,” you tease.

“Good,” the tenor of Frankie’s voice is warm with the undercurrent of what’s not yet been spoken out loud.

As you both enjoy your fireside libations, you joke and flirt, keeping the conversation light - somehow tip-toeing around what’s happening between the two of you. Your bodies, though, pay your shyness no mind, inching closer and closer until you’re practically in Frankie’s lap. The conversation grows quieter as words are replaced by looks of longing and want until all you seem to be doing is studying the dark and rough lines of Frankie’s face, the plushness of his lips, the adorable heart shaped patch in his facial scruff.

With one final sip of brandy, the soothing burn of the liquor down your throat gives you that final push of liquid courage and you drop your gaze from Frankie’s soft chocolate brown eyes down to his waiting mouth. Not so innocently, you lick you lips at the sight.

Then Frankie is on you, crashing his lips to yours – the empty snifters rolling away on the carpet as you pour yourself into his mouth, open wide and inviting. This first kiss is nothing short of sensual and desperate, the feelings that have been simmering over the past week boiling over until you’re both a mess of tongues, moans and clashing teeth.

“Oh Frankie,” your soft whimpers a welcomed song to his ears, Frankie returns your sentiments by licking behind your teeth, exploring and stroking into your receptive mouth with a fiery passion. His hands maneuver you to straddle him so that he can better feel you, roaming your back until one hand comes to a rest at the nape of your neck, the other under one of the pert globes of your ass, using them as leverage to press you flush against his chest.

As your hands go to run through Frankie’s soft waves, you knock his favourite cap onto the ground and you giggle loudly when it lands near the now forgotten brandy snifters with a little thud. Frankie feels himself harden at the melodic sound.

You make out like teenagers, tongues dancing and teeth nibbling until you both run out of air and have no choice to break apart, panting.

“Been wanting to do that since I saw you your first day here, City Girl,” admits Frankie, eyes tender and sincere as he rests his forehead against yours.

Leaning in to lightly peck his lips, you’re surprised but can’t help teasing, “What took you so long, Morales?”

Frankie chuckles, though his eyes flash with a bolt of insecurity, “Wasn’t sure you would want to. Benny said something about how he wanted to try and set you up with Will.”

Your face scrunches up with astonishment - so Jenny wasn’t just being facetious! But you quickly cup Frankie’s face and run your thumbs reassuringly through his adorable scruff, “I don’t know anything about that. But what I do know is that I can’t resist a kind hearted, handsome man who goes out of his way to take care of me, never judges me and makes me feel comfortable without pushing me to be someone I’m not. You, Frankie – I can’t imagine wanting anyone but you to kiss me.”

Taking this as the invitation it is, Frankie slots his mouth over yours once more. This second kiss is slower, deeper, and full of promise. You sigh as Frankie’s tongue slides over yours in a slow and intimate waltz and his lips find yours again and again and again.

“Querida,” he murmurs, “when we get back to the city, can I take you out to dinner?”

Grinning at having earned yourself another nickname, you tuck yourself into the nook under Frankie’s chin and press one, two, three soft kisses to his neck while nodding, “I’d love that, Frankie.”

The next morning you wake up well rested, with a strong arm banded over your body and Frankie’s hard chest pressed up against your back. Slipping slowly back to consciousness, you can’t help but smile as the memories of the previous night come flooding back. Frankie came back up to your cabin with you and stayed to keep you company as he had the previous nights, but instead of games or spa treatments, he kept you awake with the hard and soft kisses of his expert mouth and innocent touches that by the end of the night, didn’t feel quite so innocent anymore. Lips swollen after hours of making out, Frankie had tucked in with you under the covers and held you close, lulling you to sleep with evenness of his breathing and the soothing rise and fall of his chest. Rolling over, you find Frankie already slowly blinking awake, “Good morning, City Girl. Did you sleep okay?”

You nod into his shoulder, “Slept perfect, Frankie. Coziest night here with my own personal furnace.”

Frankie chuckles, “I like waking up with you like this, pretty girl. Like seeing you wearing my clothes, too.”

Shyly, you gaze into Frankie’s eyes, heart beating faster at his look of adoration, “I like it too, Frankie. Waking up with you, wearing your clothes.”

After some tender and sweet kisses under the covers, the two of you manage to get out of bed so you can pack and get ready for the trip home.

Right before he closes the door to the Screened-In Veranda Cabin, Frankie turns around, “Wanna ride with me on the way back, City Girl?”

“Sure! What about Santi and Will?” You can’t help but get excited about the prospect of a long road trip with Frankie.

“They can go with Benny. Or Tom. Well at least Santi can ride with Tom. Don’t think Tom’s sisters will let Will into Tom’s truck,” Frankie looks genuinely amused and you once again spot that cute dimple make an appearance in his right cheek.

“Omigod! I meant to ask Jenny about that – what happened??”

Frankie throws you a heart-stopping wink, one that nearly sends your knees buckling, “Tell you on the way home, querida.”

---

A few hours later, everyone’s packed bags are stowed in their respective cars, the cabins locked, boats put away for the winter, and sheets and laundry stripped to go back to the city to be cleaned.

“Ready to go, City Girl?” grins Frankie, “Bet you can’t wait to get home.”

Buckling your seatbelt and looking fondly at the sweet man who made sure you felt seen and cared for this week, you say, almost wistfully, “It’s not that bad here.”

Pressing a tender kiss to your lips, Frankie nuzzles your nose affectionately with his before putting the car in reverse. Steering the wheel one-handedly with his other big paw cupping the back of your headrest, he winks, “Cottage country ain’t got nothing on cabin country, am I right, querida?”

You giggle as he straightens out the car and take the hand that Frankie’s holds out to you over the centre console, “Only the cashmere sweaters, but other than that, nothing.”

Frankie brings your hand up to his lips, placing a sweet kiss to your knuckles as he starts down the windy dirt road in the direction of the city, “An easy fix for next time, City Girl.”

Biting your lip to keep from smiling too much, you nod happily in agreement. Next time.

#tropeoff2024 #frankie morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table. You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like.

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty, almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x y/n

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chunniwritesalot · 3 months ago

Text

mrs. alonso - fa14 smau - part 2

i jut cant help myself chat

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 a

cw: nothing really! none of the photos used except the one below this is mine! all of them are from pinterest

fernando and y/n have been married for 18 years now, but their love has been the same since they met 26 years ago.

information: spanish speaking! reader, fem! reader, you have 2 daughters- one is 18 and one is 5. you and claire ann stroll are best friends! this is really just how i see old people using social medias 😭

Francesca or Fran is your OLDER daughter and Rubi is your YOUNGER daughter.

(in the tweets it was y/o/d which stood for your older daughter but i ultimately decided to name the kids just so it was a little easier for me! i don’t feel like changing the tweets so…)

-start-

---

"mama!" fran called out as she walked downstairs into the kitchen. rubi was doing her homework at the counter as fernando and y/n cooked dinner- some seafood dish that smelled absolutely amazing. fran plopped herself down on the seat next to her younger sister and watched her parents. fernando turned to her from the stove and raised an eyebrow, "hm mami?" he asked her. the oldest daughter rolled her eyes, "papa, i wasn't talking to you" she sighed, fernando grinned, shaking his head, "mama and i are basically the same" he chimed, turning back to the stove, y/n chuckled and turned to fran "yes, mija?" she asked, smiling at her eldest, she was such an angel. fran pulled out her phone and showed her mother the tweet. y/n frowned, "no posts from mrs. alonso?" she read out, raising her eyebrow, "posts from what? why are they getting weaker? do you know this person?"

francesca sighed, "mama they want you to post on your instagram, thats what they mean."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, "hmph, i didn't know people were waiting on me to post... fernando, did you know this?" fernando frowned himself, turning away from the stove once again, "no i didn't know this fact." he too, leaning forward to read the tweet on fran’s phone. he shrugged, "tal vez sea una señal (maybe its a sign)"

---

y/nalonso has posted!

liked by franalo14, landonorris, lance_stroll, fernandoalo_offical, claireannstroll, and 506,980 others

y/nalonso Mi post en Instagram...😘😮

(translation: My post on Instagram)

tagged: @/franalo14 @/fernandoalo_official @/chloestroll @/lance_stroll @/claireannstroll @/lewishamilton @/logansargeant

view comments...

franalo14 everyone thank me!

user1 thank you fran user2 thank you fran user3 thank you fran user4 thank you fran user6, user6, user7, and 580 others have responded...

lance_stroll I MADE IT INTO THE FAMILY POSTS 🤩😍

y/nalonso Hello mijo, please come over...Rubi misses you...thank you...🙃🙃 lance_stroll sounds good...😨 user8 HELP SAVE LANCE NOW.

lewishamilton Thanks for the dinner invite! Amazing food 🙌🙌

fernandoalo_official Thank you Lewis😛 lewishamilton I wasn't talking to you 😅 fernandoalo_official Oh.......😫😥

claireannstroll Amazing photos sister...😘🥰 Come over tomorrow for lunch👯‍♀️👩‍🍳

y/nalonso Sounds like a plan, I will bring some wine Fernando got from Italy...May need to stay over! Can not drive drunk😂😂😂🍷😵 claireannstroll L.O.L!! Sounds risky...😎😏😹 user9 oh to be invited to the stroll alonso hangouts franalo14 @/user9, trust me you do not want to be invited.

fernandoalo_official So hot😫😍

fernandoalo_official No puedo dejar de pensar en ti...😏😲 (translation: I can't stop thinking about you)

fernandoalo_official Eres el postre perfecto para una cena romántica 😍😋 (translation: You’re the perfect dessert for a romantic dinner) <thank you to the anon that helped me translate this 💗> user10 why is nando replying to himself this cannot be real

y/nalonso Thank you husband😏🤪🥺

user11 MRS. ALONSO YOU HAVE TO REPLY TO THE COMMENT 😭 y/nalonso Oh...please do not cry at my mistake...I am very sorry😯😓💗 user11 @/y/nalonso wait mother im sorry 💔 user12 @/user11 shes a little confused but she got the spirit

chloestroll such a fun beach trip with you, aunt y/n! can't wait to see you again soon 💕💕

y/nalonso You must come soon...😉

user13 mother has blessed us again!

oscarpiastri mom said thanks for the recipe mrs. alonso

y/nalonso Please tell Nicole to come over again...Oscar... oscarpiastri 😦

logansargeant thank you for inviting riley and i for dinner 😁

y/nalonso Please come again soon, mijo... food will be hard to come by when you are unemployed logansargeant oh... 😨 riley_whittal HELP? user14 SHE VIOLATED LOGAN LIKE IT WAS NOTHING

carlossainz55 ¡Qué bueno verte! (great seeing you!)

fernandoalo_official ¿Cómo te sientes? (how do you feel) carlossainz55 He arruinado mi vida. (i have ruined my life) fernandoalo_official 😬😬

maxverstappen1 P wants to see Rubi again!

y/nalonso Let us arrange a playdate. Rubi likes playing the Dressing game on Robux🎮🎮with P🫛I am in 🇲🇨on the 13-20th.Please text my number Max…

maxverstappen1 Yeah… sounds good 🤨😂

-fin-

my requests are open! if you want to see something special done w this series dont be afraid to ask :)

259 notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 1 month ago

Note

I'm just gonna keep requesting for wally, tell me if you get sick of it😅

Could you please do "I know I said to get laid, but I didn't mean them." for her?

you can do better || lia walti x reader ||

You had no idea how you and Lia managed to make such a clean break after the team brunch. Most of the girls had been arguing about another team activity later in the day. A few of them had wanted to go mini golfing, as suggested by your older sister. You'd deny it if Lia or anybody else tried to call you out on it, but you had suggested a movie knowing that a good amount of the girls would argue for that instead.

In all of the commotion, you managed to pull Lia out of the restaurant. Nobody had been paying attention to you, so you just grabbed Lia's hand and ran. The two of you went straight back to your apartment, very enthusiastic about potentially getting the afternoon to yourselves. All you had done was make a quick stop at Lia's for her to grab a bag, and then you were on your way.

Admittedly, you did tend to get ahead of yourself whenever Lia stayed over. She had always been more reserved than you, and it was completely because of her that the team didn't know about your relationship yet. Any time that you could be kissing Lia, you were. And that included pressing her against your door as you opened it, fully prepared to pin her against it once both of you were inside again.

"Finally! You left before me, what took you so long for Christ's sake," Leah said. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion from then on, but far too quickly for anybody to react appropriately.

"Leah!" You turned in shock at your girlfriend. It was Lia speaking up that seemed to kickstart something in your older sister's brain. You tightened your hold on Lia's waist as Leah approached the two of you. Immediately, a million things ran through your brain until your thoughts were pushed out of your head by Leah's hand connecting with the back of it.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" You tried to drop Lia's waist, but Lia's grip on you stopped you from reacting. It was best to keep a calm head. You had been hiding your relationship for a while now, and there was no telling what Leah would claim was her issue with the relationship. You were Leah's baby sister, and Lia's age difference with you was twice that of her and your sister.

"I know I said to get laid, but I didn't mean (Y/n). Come on mate, you can do better than my sister," Leah said. At this, Lia dropped her hold on you. You were honestly too stunned and insulted to react, but your girlfriend was quick to stand up for you.

"Don't say that about her. You love your sister, Leah, you do. I know that this is a shock, and I'd be happy to answer any questions you have, but don't lie and say that I could do better than (Y/n). Don't forget who was also here every single night comforting me after Caitlin and I broke up. Both of us could date other people, but I think that we're perfect for each other."

Leah glanced away from the two of you. You recognized it as your sister feeling guilty, but you didn't know about what. Lia's words had to be a part of it, but Leah had been tasked with looking out for you since you were born. Not noticing you dating her best friend was definitely something that Leah had to feel a bit bad about.

"It okay Lee, just come here." You held your arms out for your older sister to come over and hug you. Lia left the two of you to have a little moment to yourselves, deciding to busy herself by unpacking her bag in your bedroom. "I didn't do too bad for myself, now did I?"

"You lucked out big time. Much better than the barista from last year," Leah said as she patted you on the back. "I'm proud of you. Just, ease Mum into it, Lia is older than me after all."

"Don't worry, I've changed the locks on the doors since I gave Mum a key."

#woso fanfics #answered #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso blurbs #lia walti x reader #lia walti imagine

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russellsppttemplates · 7 months ago

Note

We can all agree that our little gremlin boy Lan has a big head, don't we? Like we love him, he's cute(hot af too), but boy was blessed with a big head 😅 so I just had the funniest scene of his wife complaining to him about his big head while drowned in hormones when she's pregnant with Tilly. Like really complaining, but laughing at the same time, and maybe his sisters or max and P are cackling while he tries not to laugh too much not to hurt her feelings,but they all end up having a laughing fit together 😆

Note: when I was a baby, my head was so big that I had to get a series of tests and scans to rule out any problems! In the doctor's words, fortunately, the only problem I would have was finding a hat that fits! So I relate to this very much - also, absolutely agree with all you've said!

Cw: reader is pregnant

The annual Norris family summer vacation was well underway by the time you decided which days you wanted to spend on the boat, Oliver and Savannah staying inside with the girls along with Adam and Cisca who decided they would make lunch for everyone.

"Do you know what I have just realised?", you spoke to Flo as you both watched Lando and Cisca's boyfriend jump into the water, "your brother has a massive head - like, it's really big, specially when you compare to Max's", you pointed to your husband's best friend.

That morning, you cried about the fact that your bikini dug on your hips only for Lando to tell you that you hadn't tired the sides properly and that you had more than enough room to accommodate your growing body, so right now this was a way better way to deal with the rush of hormones you were having.

"I think we all do, to be fair - Cisca has the smalled one I guess", Flo squinted as she looked at her sister who walked closer to you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?", Cisca wondered.

"I've just realised how big your brother's head is and how I'm probably going to be split apart when this little girl - little body but surely a big head - joins us", you rubbed your bump as tears formed in your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N, my friends have had babies with big heads and they're fine", Pietra offered, "they were just fine", she said before waving at Max so him and Lando could come to the rescue.

"I don't know why I'm crying, which makes this even worse - Goodness", you wiped your eyes and chuckled, "I can feel her head, it's about here from what I remember from the scans - and it's big, like, really big! How is that going to work?", you blurted.

"What's the matter? Is everything alright? Y/N, are you good? Is it Tilly?", Lando asked worriedly as he saw you break into a fit of giggles and seeing the girls fight their laughter a bit before joining.

"The matter is that you have a big head and Tilly's will also be big", you explained, "I'm not the tiniest person ever, so there's definitely room but can you imagine? I have to ask your mother how big your head was when you were born because I feel like I need to do prep work for it", you mused, "it's all natural until you decide to have a kid with the guy who has a big head".

"Oh, Y/N has gone dark", Max muttered, earning himself a swat on his forehead from Pietra, "what? Did I lie?", he hissed, containing his laughter.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to do here, my love", Lando admitted, sitting next to you and attempting to squeeze your thigh lovingly, knowing the affectionate gesture could go both ways.

"Our baby is making me feel like I have the emotional and cognitive skills of a toddler", you mumbled as you cuddled your husband, supporting your bump with a pillow Flo got for you as you both layed down.

"It's okay, Y/N, I don't mind having to reason with you - we'll consider this practice for when we have our little one, okay beautiful?", Lando kissed your forehead.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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leodette · 15 days ago

Text

"In Sickness And In Health..." | CL16

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Charles Leclerc x OC

names/faceclaims: -

type: Instagram SMAU

summary: Charles Leclerc marries his girlfriend... and the public watches along

warning: none, Google-translated languages (French, Portuguese, Italian)

**********

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, sebastianvettel and 472,675 others thebride "Yes" never felt so good 💍 (tagged charles_leclerc)

↪︎ charles_leclerc je t'aime mon amour ❤️ thank you for saying yes liked by author ↪︎ thebride counting days my love ❤️ it was so beautiful, can't wait to be yours

↪︎ arthur_leclerc my sister from another mister, finally to call you family 😘 liked by author ↪︎ thebride thank you Arthur 🥰 you're the best little brother ↪︎ bridesbrother touché 😒 love you sis, congratulations ❤️ and charles_leclerc good luck liked by author

↪︎ bridesbff1 can't believe you hid that for two whole weeks! but congratulations to you and Charles, I love you and can't wait to see you walk down the aisle ❤️ liked by author ↪︎ thebride oh c'mon you B, you're making me cry! ↪︎ bridesbff1 GOOD! because I cried ugly tears!

↪︎ lewishamilton congratulations! so happy for you two liked by author ↪︎ thebride ❤️ thank you so much Lewis, it means a lot to both of us

↪︎ bridesbff2 oh c'mon, only yesterday you wore braces and horrible pigtails! liked by author ↪︎ thebride shush! that was 12 years ago! ↪︎ bridesbff2 I knoooow!!! we're old! ↪︎ bridesbff2 congratulations my darling, I can't stop crying ↪︎ charles_leclerc thank you, now SHE can't stop crying 💔

↪︎ francisca.cgomes GIIIRRRLLL!!! I'm so excited for you two! Congratulations, you will be the most beautiful bride!!! 💖💖💖 liked by author ↪︎ thebride my darling bridesmaid! Love you, thank you very much, can't wait to see you soon ❤️ ↪︎ francisca.cgomes 🥹💖

liked by thebride, maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc and 2,174,675 others charles_leclerc La fiancée sonne bien ❤️ (Fiancée has a nice ring to it; tagged thebride)

↪︎ thebride he's a thief! he stole my heart, and now he's going to steal my surname as well 🥹❤️ love you mon coeur liked by author

↪︎ sebastianvettel congratulations Charles, I'm so proud of you and the man you became liked by author ↪︎ charles_leclerc thank you Seb, it means a lot

↪︎ carlossainz55 finally ❤️ and see? she said yes! no more stressing now! time to calm down, Lord Perceval liked by author ↪︎ charles_leclerc no idea what u talking about 😅 thank you Carlos, for keeping up with my moods and my nerves ↪︎ thebride he was nervous?! ↪︎ carlossainz55 Charles? never 😂 (spoiler: he was. great amusement, but happy he managed to pull it together)

↪︎ leclerc_pascale ❤️ liked by author ↪︎ thebride ❤️ merci maman

↪︎ wbuxtonofficial congratulations Charles! extremely happy for you both liked by author ↪︎ charles_lecler thanks Will ↪︎ thebride thank you Will

↪︎ scuderiaferrari the wedding of the season! (we also approve of the choice of the red roses 🌹) liked by author ↪︎ thebride nothing better than red roses ❤️ thank you admin ↪︎ charles_leclerc grazie mille!

↪︎ maxverstappen1 congrats mate liked by author ↪︎ charles_lecler thank you Max ↪︎ thebride awww, not you two trying to play it macho but inside being the two most mushy boys ever 🥹😂 ↪︎ charles_lecler us? mushy? nooo ↪︎ maxverstappen1 stop spilling our secrets! ↪︎ thebride you two are never beating Lerstappen allegations

liked by kellypiquet, bridesbff1, giambattistavalliparis and 95,286 others thebride When I saw that sketch for the first time... it all just clicked for me. Extremely excited and grateful for the opportunity to get the wedding dress of my dreams.

↪︎ f1 will it be red? liked by the author ↪︎ thebride no, but pssst, don't tell Charles ↪︎ f1 tell him what? ↪︎ thebride perfect ❤️ ↪︎ charles_leclerc what is going on here? ↪︎ bridesbff1 out man, get out! this is wedding dress stuff, your presence in this post is forbidden! ↪︎ bridesbff2 what she said ↪︎ luisanhaoliveira99 what she said ↪︎ carla.brocker what she said

↪︎ scuderiaferrari *scrambles through sketches of the car parts for anything that resembles wedding dress* liked by the author ↪︎ thebride will you hate me when I say it will not be Italian? 😥 ↪︎ scuderiaferrari *drops the pizza dough in shock* ↪︎ thebride I'm so sorry admin! ↪︎ scuderiaferrari that is okay, we will mail you his medical bill ↪︎ thebride please send it to Charles, he started it 😂

↪︎ hello_monaco should we expect French designer? ↪︎ f12wags oh I can't wait to see the dress! ↪︎ wedding-planner you will get the informations in time, don't worry

liked by thebride, pierregasly, joris__trouche and 1,159,478 others charles_leclerc driver's diet, stand aside, it's time for a sugar rush (andferrari007 look away please) (tagged thebride)

↪︎ scuderiaferrari but... but... the weight limit! ↪︎ thebride 🫣 sorry, couldn't stop him ↪︎ scuderiaferrari at least we know who to blame if he doesn't perform in Spa ↪︎ maxverstappen1 yourself? (this comment has been deleted) ↪︎ thebride MAX BE NICE ↪︎ scuderiaferrari redbullracing your driver is unhinged in the comments, please come get him 🤦 ↪︎ redbullracing was he wrong though? 🤔 ↪︎ scuderiaferrari touché 👀

↪︎ andferrari007 *adds 30 extra minutes to the training plan* ↪︎ charles_leclerc I guess I deserved that ↪︎ landonorris HAHAHA RIP ↪︎ mclaren *calling Jon to add 30 minutes to Lando's weights session* ↪︎ landonorris WAIT NOOOOO ↪︎ charles_leclerc karma man ↪︎ carlossainz55 ^^ ↪︎ olliebearman ^^ ↪︎ oscarpiastri ^^

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 15,296 others f12wags Last race as a single woman. Charles Leclerc's fiancée and their dog Leo arrived in the paddock at the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps for Saturday qualifying. (tagged thebride, charles_leclerc)

↪︎ user1 if she slays like this on a normal quali day, then can't wait for her wedding dress

↪︎ user2 can u imagine Leo being the ring bearer?!

↪︎ user3 she looks so pretty! her outfits always fit the vibe (even though not always the weather situation) ↪︎ user4 this time though she did it right! she wears high leather boots to a circuit which is known for almost never-ending rain

↪︎ user5 it will be something, to see the contrast between an all-black outfit of today and all-white wedding look

↪︎ user6 charles should learn how to fight, and not just on track, this woman is out of this world

↪︎ user7 the favorite wag of all times

liked by francisca.cgomes, luisinhaoliveira99, pierregasly and 1,096,285 others thebride When the gown is even more beautiful than you could ever dream about... (tagged giambattistavalliparis, giambattistavalli)

↪︎ giambattistavalliparis We are very happy that your gown turned out the way you wanted. It was an honor to work with you, and the whole team wishes you and charles_leclerc the happiest future in the world

↪︎ bridesbrother you made the exactly same face when unpacking that Cinderella dress under the Christmas tree when you were 3 ↪︎ thebride ehmm, should i bring up the HotWheels? ↪︎ bridesbrother hehe, nice weather isn't it? ↪︎ thebride thought so 😂😂😂😂😂

↪︎ bridesbff1 still can't believe how beautiful that dress it. u're going to be an absolute goddess, Charles will not know what hit him ↪︎ charles_leclerc oh I know what will hit me, it will be arthur_leclerc trying to be funny ↪︎ arthur_leclerc he's got a point...

liked by thebride, kellypiquet, pierregasly and 173,651 others francisca.cgomes our girl is getting married! 👰‍♀️🥂🌹 (tagged thebride, bridesbff1, bridesbff2, carla.brocker, charlotte2304, luisinhaoliveira99)

↪︎ thebride thank you so much for such a great surprise, my love 💖 it was the best bachelorette any girl could ask for! liked by author

↪︎ carla.brocker 🩷🤩🥰 liked by author

↪︎ luisinhaoliveira99 the gang is back together 👯‍♀️🍸 liked by author

↪︎ pierregasly 💃🏽❤️

liked by thebride, hellomag, madeleinecwhite and 74,280 others wedding-planner First snippets! The Leclerc wedding is underway! (tagged thebride, charles_leclerc)

↪︎ scuderiaferrari we don't see any red...

↪︎ bridesbff2 she's crying, it's so beautiful

liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, bridesbff2 and 40,634 others joris__trouche Look at this distinguished gentleman! On his best behavior today, loving the attention and all the belly rubs! 🐶👰‍♀️🤵🏻‍♂️

↪︎ thebride my baby 🥹❤️ ↪︎ charles_leclerc our baby ❤️

↪︎ oscarpiastri little brother of mine, hey olliebearman wanna help kidnapping Leo? ↪︎ olliebearman i distract them, you take him ↪︎ thebride exCUSE ME you two?! ↪︎ olliebearman ups sorry mama, we just want to cuddle our baby bro ↪︎ oscarpiastri yeah, Charles never brings him to McLaren garage ↪︎ charles_leclerc can't risk you corrupting him! ↪︎ oscarpiastri shouldn't you be shaking with nerves while getting ready? ↪︎ olliebearman 🤐🤐🤐🤐 ↪︎ charles_leclerc and that is exactly the reason why Ollie is the groomsman and you're not ↪︎ oscarpiastri oh to not be in the center of attention, what a shame ↪︎ charles_leclerc UNCALLED FOR! ↪︎ oscarpiastri then shut up and concentrate on not tripping while walking to the altar ↪︎ joris__trouche and here I was, just wanting to post a cute picture of Leo, but it looks like I started WWIII

↪︎ arthur_leclerc don't worry charles_leclerc thebride, me and Maman are going to take a good care of him tonight ↪︎ thebride ❤️

liked by thebride, bridesbff2, bridescousin and 12,059 others bridesbff1 the last of our trio to wear the white gown. watching you getting ready made me cry, remembering all those moments of tears, laughter, drunken nights and facetimes that took hours. new chapter of your life starts, and I consider myself extremely grateful to be here to witness it by your side, to hold your hand and hand you tissue when it will all become too much. now, chin up, tits out, you've got them. (tagged thebride)

↪︎ thebride you know, that make-up took ages to put on! you have no right to destroy it like this when you make me cry! love you bubba, thank you for listening to my rambling since the moment i returned from that first date. will never forget what you did for me ↪︎ bridesbff1 ❤️ love you more sis

↪︎ bridesbff2 and to think that we know each other since first grade 🤧 and now all of us are married and some already have kids ↪︎ bridescousin "why do you refuse to throw the clock out of the window? - cause I hate to see how time flies" ↪︎ bridesbff2 you and your dad jokes ↪︎ bridescousin did it make you smile? ↪︎ thebride it made all of us laugh, thank you for lifting our teary spirits ❤️ ↪︎ bridescousin any time 😘

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, pierregasly and 1,427,560 others arthur_leclerc Last morning as maman's little boy, tomorrow this guy is going to wake up as someone's husband. Love you brother, thank you for picking me to stand by you during this journey. Now let's get you married. (tagged charles_leclerc)

↪︎ leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️

↪︎ joris__trouche still can't believe this piece of man decided to get married ↪︎ charles_leclerc will you shut up for once? ↪︎ joris__trouche is this how you treat your best friend? ↪︎ charles_leclerc I'd never treat antonio_fuoco1 like that ↪︎ joris__trouche UNCALLED FOR! ↪︎ antonio_fuoco1 ha! suck it, he likes me better!

↪︎ scuderiaferrari they grow up so fast 🥹 ↪︎ prema_team get it together *hands a tissue*

↪︎ charles_leclerc there was literally no other option (apart from lorenzotl). love you petit frère, thank you for taking on the responsibility of signing that marriage licence ↪︎ lorenzotl did you tell him that you literally had to do a coin toss to decide who will be the one signing as a witness? ↪︎ charles_leclerc ... no idea what u talking about? ↪︎ arthur_leclerc slightly confused now ↪︎ charles_leclerc don't worry little brother, he just takes a piss (lorenzotl why would you out me like that?!)

↪︎ bridesbff1 your sister-in-law says that if he is late because of you she will have a word ↪︎ arthur_leclerc we'll be on time, she doesn't have to worry

liked by landonorris, thebride, arvid.lindblad and 85,949 others luisinaoliveira99 Sei bellissima! 👰‍♀️💖💐 (tagged thebride, francisca.cgomes, bridesbff1, bridesbff2, carla.brocker, charlotte2304)

↪︎ savnorris the prettiest girls 😍

↪︎ thebride my girls 🥹 thank you for making my big day so so special, couldn't do it without you liked by the author ↪︎ luisinhaoliveira99 it was an honor for all of us to stand by your side my love ❤️

↪︎ francisca.cgomes damn we look good 🔥 ↪︎ bridesbff1 that we do!

↪︎ isahernaez HERMOSA 🩷🩷🩷

↪︎ landonorris 🌷 liked by the author ↪︎ luisinaoliveira99 ✨ ↪︎ user8 NOBODY MOVE! ↪︎ carla.brocker this is painful to watch 🙈

liked by arthur_leclerc, thebride, philippe_bianchi17 and 899,971 others charles_leclerc We left two seats in the first row empty. They're for two people who are no longer with us, but their place is never taken away. Tu me manques, Papa et Jules 🤍

↪︎ philippe_bianchi17 thank you for this Charles, they both would be very very proud of you and sad they can't be there

↪︎ f1 gone but never forgotten. this gesture over everything

↪︎ scuderiaferrari admin is currently looking for a tissue. forever in our hearts, and in spirit with you charles_leclerc thebride

↪︎ ferrariacademy 💔

↪︎ arthur_leclerc you know they were there, right?

liked by mlnmarta, bridescousin, bridesbff1 and 9,265 others bridesbff2 Calm before storm. These little angels might look like they're innocent, but the moment that sugar from their juice hits? 😅 (tagged mlnmarta, bridescousin)

↪︎ mlnmarta next time I refused to give Chiara any juice before the ceremony

↪︎ bridescousin they're lucky they're cute, otherwise they would already drive me mad

↪︎ thebride oh the babies! they did such a good job!

liked by bridesbrother, bridescousin, charles_leclerc and 58,957 others thebride Slipping through her fingers. Thank you Mama for never giving up on me, even when I was intolerable and ungrateful brat ❤️ No one can ever replace you, your hug, your smile, your comforting words. Thank you for believing in me and allowing me to leave home and go to the big world outside alone.

(comments have been limited)

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, redbullracing and 957,469 others maxverstappen1 a few inchidents and years later, but here we are. Congratulations Charlie for finally finding what you were looking for, and thebride good luck with him, he's a handful (keep your eyes on puddles!) (tagged charles_leclerc)

↪︎ charles_leclerc # lerstappenforever ↪︎ maxverstappen1 you said it, I did not ↪︎ charles_leclerc my wife stole my phone! ↪︎ thebride what did you say?! ↪︎ maxverstappen1 HA, EXPOSED! ↪︎ charles_leclerc never mind. thank you Max!

↪︎ redbullracing 🤝 scuderiaferrari ↪︎ scuderiaferrari 🥂

liked by charles_leclerc, thebride, landonorris and 1,514,167 others carlossainz55 Amigo y amiga. Novio y novia. Esposo y esposa. Famiglia. Felicidades Lord Perceval (y Lady perceval también) 🤵🏻‍♂️👰‍♀️🥂💍

Friends. Groom and bride. Husband and wife. Family. Congratulations Lord Perceval (and Lady perceval as well) (tagged charles_leclerc, thebride)

↪︎ charles_leclerc gracias hermano, for being there for both of us. couldn't do it without you liked by the author

↪︎ thebride thank you Carlos for looking after him, not only this morning but when you're away as well. it was an honor to have you there with us liked by the author

↪︎ iamrebeccad ❤️❤️❤️ liked by the author

↪︎ landonorris considering you spilled coffee on your shirt in the morning and panicked that you didn't have a spear one, you're awfully cheerful and sentimental

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 2,229,451 others f1 Congratulations to Mr. & Mrs. Charles Leclerc, who tied the knot today near their home in Monaco. Wishing you all the best in the married life. (tagged charles_leclerc, thebride)

↪︎ pirelli_motorsport congratulations!

↪︎ fia best wishes to the couple!

↪︎ prema_team our boy is all grown up and married! and our second boy was in the bridal party! okay admin, get it together. CONGRATULATIONS!

↪︎ instagram everyone liked that ❤️

↪︎ charles_leclerc thank you everyone for the kind wishes, it means the world to us 😊

liked by thebride, olliebearman, lewsihamilton and 1,288,857 others scuderiaferrari Newest member of the Ferrari squadra in the house! Congratulations to Charles and the bride on the occassion of their nuptials 👰‍♀️🤵🏻‍♂️💐 (tagged thebride, charles_leclerc)

↪︎ charles_leclerc grazie mille ❤️ liked by the author

↪︎ redbullracing wishing the newlyweds all good, and sending massive congratulations from Milton Keynes! can't wait to meet the new Mrs. Leclerc in the paddock

↪︎ mclaren congratulations to Mr and Mrs Leclerc! ps: you will find a small surprise for Leo in the fruit basket!

↪︎ mercedesamgf1 congratulations! the card will be on its way the moment the admin will be able to locate Toto and pressure him into signing it!

↪︎ williamsracing it's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"! congrats to the new couple! would new Mrs Leclerc appreciate a dip of blue in her closet? ↪︎ thebride she would! ↪︎ williamsracing sending the package right now! ↪︎ charles_leclerc what just happened... ↪︎ scuderiaferrari you're asking us?! she is your wife!

↪︎ haasf1team we will deliver the wedding gift by ourselves to the front desk in Maranello, will be waiting there for the newlyweds! congratulations!

↪︎ astonmartinf1 sending love to the newlyweds! wishing you all the best!

↪︎ alpinef1team *admin furiously scrolling through gif options for Home Simpson wearing wedding gown* sending love and congratulations to Monaco! wishing you all the best!

↪︎ visacashapprb congratulations to the happy couple!

↪︎ stakef1team it only takes one Charles Leclerc for all teams to unite with congratulations. allow us to add our own wish to the pile as well. may you have a happy marriage, and many congratulations!

liked by thebride, deuxmoi, giambattistavalli and 13,158 others giambattistavalliparis Congratulations to thebride and charles_leclerc for tying the knot, and thank the bride for wearing Giambattista Valli Haute Couture for her wedding ceremony and the wedding reception (tagged thebride, giambattistavalli)

↪︎ giambattistavalliparis the custom embroidery on the gown, requested by the bride herself, featured a small pracing horse of Ferrari, carnations and white lilies for respective national flowers of Monaco and Italy, initials of bride's parents, and number 16 which the groom races under which was embroidered over the bride's heart ↪︎ user9 okay who else is crying? hands up! ↪︎ user10 the fact that she put so much thought into this makes my heart burst. this is real love ❤️

↪︎ thebride thank you for making the most beautiful dress I could ever dream of

↪︎ f12wags when the Prince of Formula 1 ties the knot, the bride needs the royal-worthy gown ❤️ absolutely stunning ↪︎ user11 FACTS ↪︎ user12 the most beautiful bride ever ↪︎ user13 still wondering how Charles pulled ^her^ ↪︎ charles_leclerc asking myself this question all the time ↪︎ user13 oh, ehm... hello! congratulations!

liked by thebride, riccardoberreta, arthur_leclerc and 164,375 others mlnmarta A new rose among thorns 🌹 (tagged thebride, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, riccardoberreta, joris__trouche, antonio_fuoco1, andferrari007, pierregasly, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, olliebearman)

↪︎ thebride 🌹🥰 liked by the author

↪︎ thebride this is what I call a bridal party 😍 ↪︎ mlnmarta not everyone can say they had THIS ↪︎ thebride can I say it? I'm one lucky girl ↪︎ carla.brocker that you are!

↪︎ arthur_leclerc didn't realize andferrari007 would go full 😙 in there ↪︎ andferrari007 😙 ↪︎ thebride ❤️

↪︎ carlossainz55 not maxverstappen1 and ollieberaman be like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ ↪︎ maxverstappen1 you know what? ↪︎ carlossainz55 😁 ↪︎ olliebearman leave my dad's name out of your ....... mouth! ↪︎ carlossainz55 whoa hold your horses young man! language! ↪︎ maxverstappen1 and here i though Charles was your father... ↪︎ olliebearman word around fan pages that u r my dad, and charles is as well ↪︎ thebride okay and i'm what then? chopped liver? ↪︎ olliebearman u r the best mama in the whole universe! ↪︎ thebride good boy ↪︎ charles_leclerc do I want to know what's going on? ↪︎ carlossainz55 NO GO AWAY THIS WENT SIDEWAYS!

liked by pierregasly, thebride, carmenmmundt and 712,306 others francisca.cgomes Our dove got married today! And it was stunning and emotional and oh so beautiful. (tagged thebride, charles_leclerc)

↪︎ pierregasly ❤️ liked by the author ↪︎ francisca.cgomes ❤️

↪︎ thebride 🥹🩷 muito obrigado querida, foste a dama de honor mais linda (thank you so much darling, you were the most beautiful bridesmaid) liked by the author ↪︎ francisca.cgomes e eras a noiva mais linda 🥰🩷 (and you were the most beautiful bride)

↪︎ georgerussell63 did anyone tell him to keep it pg13? ↪︎ carmenmmundt oh c'mon, did u see her?! no wonder he couldn't help himself ↪︎ georgerussell63 whatever you say, darlin, whatever you say...

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, vladimirrys and 505,637 others danielricciardo Finally made Leo their legitimate offspring 💍 (tagged thebride, charles_leclerc)

↪︎ thebride like Leo would notice... ↪︎ heidiberger_ didn't he have both of your surnames since the beginning? 🤔🤣 ↪︎ thebride of course he had 🙄 ↪︎ danielricciardo okay i get it! sorry! ↪︎ danielricciardo and congrats guys! 🥂 ↪︎ thebride thank you Danny 😊

↪︎ charles_leclerc does it mean that you'll finally become the official dog sitter? now when the child is official? liked by the author ↪︎ danielricciardo eee 🫣 ↪︎ heidiberger_ HE WILL! HE WILL FOR SURE! ↪︎ danielricciardo looks like I will ↪︎ charles_leclerc great! you can watch Leo while we're on honeymoon! ↪︎ arthur_leclerc and here i was thinking that leo would stay with me ↪︎ danielricciardo shared custody? (say yes please otherwise Heidi will put me on a couch) ↪︎ arthur_leclerc i guess that works ↪︎ heidiberger_ THANK YOU! ❤️

liked by charles_leclerc, bridescousin, leclerc_pascale and 757,226 others thebride Five years ago I've decided to be brave and write my phone number on his go-to coffee cup. Flashforward, and now I write his surname next to my name. (tagged charles_leclerc)

↪︎ charles_leclerc pour toujours et à jamais mon amour ❤️ Leclerc surname suits you liked by the author

(comments have been limited)

liked by thebride, pierregasly, lorenzotl and 1,946,287 others charles_leclerc Forever starts now. (tagged thebride)

↪︎ thebride Je t'aime mon amour ❤️ liked by the author

(comments have been limited)

liked by charles_leclerc, thebride, francisca.cgomes and 745,968 others pierregasly Congratulations brother, cheers to many years of happiness 🥂 (tagged charles_leclers, thebride)

↪︎ charles_leclerc merci beaucoup frère, d'être toujours à mes côtés depuis l'enfance (thank you brother for always standing by my side since the childhood) liked by the author ↪︎ pierregasly toujours 🤝 and enjoy your honeymoon 😏 ↪︎ charles_leclerc okay that wasn't necessary ↪︎ pierregasly yes it was! 😂

↪︎ francisca.cgomes ❤️ liked by the author ↪︎ thebride ❤️ ↪︎ pierregasly you were stunning mon beau 🥰 and thebride as well, of course, can't forget about the bride ↪︎ thebride oh thank you Mr Gasly, what a nice compliment! 😂 ↪︎ pierregasly what can I say, i'm the textbook definition of a gentleman ↪︎ estebanocon *looks around for said gentleman* ↪︎ pierregasly oh f-ck off man! ↪︎ francisca.cgomes 😂

🎶 'High on Life (feat. Bonn)' - Martin Garrix liked by thebride, oscarpiastri, martingarrix and 1,376,370 others landonorris wearing a white dress for an outside party is quite impractical... just sayin (kidding, congrats guys, it was an honor to be able to be there with you) (tagged thebride, charles_leclerc)

↪︎ maxfewtrell someone please tell me you didn't give him an access to the fire... ↪︎ arthur_leclerc ups... i guess? ↪︎ olliebearman guilty, sorry ↪︎ maxfewtrell would explain why his blazer has a burn hole in one sleeve ↪︎ landonorris wtf man?! you can't say things like that on main! ↪︎ maxfewtrell payback for outing my and P's relationship on twitch, suck it ↪︎ thebride landonorris he got you there 🤭

↪︎ oscarpiastri man has a jpg account, one would so think he knows how to take pictures ↪︎ danielricciardo i'd say blame those g&t's ↪︎ landonorris bullied in my own comment section i see ↪︎ oscarpiastri what else did you expect mate? ↪︎ landonorris touché

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, luisinhaoliveira99 and 578,974 others thebride Good morning... I guess 🤭 (tagged charles_leclerc)

↪︎ landonorris there are children present! 🫣 ↪︎ thebride then close your eyes 👀 ↪︎ landonorris okay rude ↪︎ thebride oh hush 😂 ↪︎ landonorris fyi, i'm talking 'bout olliebearman ↪︎ olliebearman leave me out of this please, i don't care what mum and dad do 😂 ↪︎ oscarpiastri then don't cry once you get a little sibling ↪︎ thebride oh my god, not children fighting again 🤦‍♀️

↪︎ charles_leclerc morning wifey ❤️ liked by author ↪︎ thebride morning hubby 😘 ↪︎ carlossainz55 gross ↪︎ charles_leclerc what are u doing in my wife's comment section!? ↪︎ carlossainz55 she's my friend too ↪︎ thebride iamrebeccad come to get your boyfriend, please 🙏 ↪︎ iamrebeccad oh god, omw 🙄🤣

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #smau #wedding smau #formula 1 #f1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader #f1 smau #in sickness and in health

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reallychaoticwoo · 3 months ago

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Hi babe!! How do you think the different ateez members would be with a gf who is a single mom? Especially if a 1 y/o baby girl? I see all of them as girl dads, but truly you can choose any age or gender for the baby. Also, for obvious reasons, fem reader :). Love you 💕💕

Hello again doll 🖤🖤 Of course I am more than happy to do this as a momma myself 🖤 🎬Overview: Ateez members meeting you and your 4 year old daughter for the first time and what became of it.

‼️This is gonna have to be a two parter, so bare with me 😅😅 I may have gotten a bit carried away. I did get my sister's help with these so everyone say thank you lol 🖤🖤

❤️Pairing: individual ot8 x reader

⚠️Warnings: Probably some cussing, mentions of dead father, Wooyoung being a little shit. Let me know if I missed anything

✨️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way

🖤As always I hope you enjoy!

🧸Ateez meeting Y/N, a single mom. Part 1🧸

Part two

Hongjoong:

Walking into the music store wasn't something you expected to be doing today, but your daughter would not let up about wanting to learn to play the guitar, and she just needed to go look at some right now. So you gave in, taking her inside and looking around. You'd gotten a little distracted looking at a violin, reminiscing over when you used to play, when your daughter slipped away. Of course, she headed straight for the guitars. They were only a few feet away, and she ran straight into a man with burnt orange hair stumbling back a bit before catching herself. "Oh, uh, what are you doing in her cutie? Where's your parents?" He asked her, looking around, trying to find anyone who seemed like they were missing a child. Just that second you rounded the corner, "Oh sweetie, there you are! I told you not to leave my side." You said, looking at her sternly, before turning to look at the man, "I am so sorry about that. I looked away for two seconds." He assured you it was fine, asking your daughter why she was running to the guitars in the first place. "Oh, she wants to learn to play and insisted I bring her to look at them. I figured looking wouldn't hurt. I'd get her one, but I know absolutely nothing about guitars or where to even begin trying to find a teacher." You started rambling. He was gorgeous, and you found yourself a little embarrassed and flustered as he listened to what you were saying. He chuckled, noticing how you seemed a little overwhelmed, "I could help you find one if you'd like. I play a little, so I definitely know the best ones for beginners and more advanced options."He offered. You smiled shyly, nodding at him in thanks. Your daughter, however, had other plans, "Mommyyy, he said he plays!! He could teach me! Can the pretty man teach me, Mommy? Plleaaasseeeee??" She begged looking at you with pleading eyes. You glanced at him, a look of shock and mild panic on his face, before looking back to your daughter. "Now sweetie, I'm sure he's very busy we can't just go demanding lessons from strangers." Your daughter turned to look at him, giving him her best puppy dog eyes and lip pout to this day, "Pleaaaaseeeee will you teach me to play the guitar pretty man? Pllleeeeeaaaaassseeeeee.." She begged. He chuckled at the nickname given to him by your four year old and kneeled down to be eye level with her. "I will teach you one thing if you promise to listen to your pretty mommy and be good for her." He said, patting her head. "Okay, I'll be good!" She exclaimed, looking up at you with the biggest cheesiest grin on her face. He sat down with her and explained one of the easiest chords he knew to her, smiling brightly when she picked it up rather quickly. Heading back to you, smiling brightly, "Mommy, the pretty man taught me to play guitar!" Your daughter beamed at you. "Honey, I'm sure the pretty man has a name." You said, smiling down at her enthusiasm. "I do, it's Hongjoong." He said, looking at you with a smile. "Well, Hongjoong, thank you for taking time to teach her something. I really appreciate it. I'd love to maybe take you out to dinner sometime? As a thank you." You said smiling warmly at him. "If teaching her one chord gets me a date with her pretty mom, then she may have just found herself a teacher. He replied, handing you his phone with a cheeky wink.

Seonghwa:

Your daughter was exploring the Lego store and came across a big Star Wars set, "Mommy! Mommy! Can I get that one?? Pweeaaaseeee!?!" She asked, giving you her best puppy dog eyes and pouty lip. "Sweetheart, we can't afford that.. I'm sorry." You sighed, patting her head, "why don't we keep looking, I'm sure we'll find something." Seonghwa couldn't help but overhear and walked over. "I don't mean to intrude, but I couldn't help but overhear this sweet baby asking for that big Star Wars set. I just bought this one and realized I already have one at home. If mom doesn't mind, I'd be more than happy to give it to her." He was smiling down at your daughter before looking up at you awaiting your reply. "Are you sure? It's okay really, we were going to keep looking. Plus its a bit too advanced for her age." You replied. "More than sure, and I'm happy to help her build it. As long as that's okay with you?" He shot you a warm smile. "PLEAASSEEE MOMMYYYY can we please go build legos??" Your daughter asked, practically jumping in excitement. You looked at her and back to the man in front of you, "Okay, let's go." You said looking at your daughter fondly. "Thank you, uh.. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?" "Seonghwa, and no need to thank me. I couldn't bare to see a little Lego lover so sad." You sat down in a seating area near the store and the two of them got to work. You'd noticed Seonghwa checking the directions pretty frequently, making you question if he actually already had the set at home, but you decided to leave it be. You were just grateful for his kindness towards your daughter. He was being so patient with her, teaching her where all the little pieces went asking her about what other kinds of toys she liked. You'd overheard him asking about you and not long after your daughter skipped up to you, "Mommy, Hwa wants to know if you'll come build legos with us?" Her big doe eyes pleading with you. "Oh, he does?" You looked at the man with a playful quirk of the brow. He just smiled back shyly. After some conversation between the three of you, Seonghwa reluctantly said he had to leave as he had somewhere to be soon. "But - but mommy, I want to show Hwa when I'm done!" Your daughter said, tears starting to well in her eyes. Seonghwa looked down at her and then to you. "I could uh, give you my number so you can text me when she's finished." He offered. "YES!! Pleaseee mommy!!" She said tugging on the bottom of your shirt. "Yes, that'd be nice. Thank you for building with her, you made her whole day." You smiled at him handing him your phone. He put his number in, "Don't thank me I enjoyed every minute of her happiness. And it was nice getting to talk to her pretty mom too."

Yunho:

It was your first weekend in months you weren't swamped with work. Deciding to take full advantage of your free time, you took your daughter to the arcade. Walking in your daughter immediately squealed in excitement, grabbing your wrist and pulling you over to the dancing games first. After several rounds and some pouting due to unperfect scores, she decided she wanted to try racing games. "Mommy, I wanna drive!" She exclaimed, pointing to one of the race car simulating games. "Baby, you're too short. You can't reach the peddles." You said, looking at her sympathetically. "But mommyy, I want to drive! It looks fun. I wanna be a big girl like mommy and drive!" She stomped her little foot, pouting. Just then, a very tall man walked up to the two of you, "I couldn't help but overhear, I could help her drive if you're comfortable with that? I think I might be tall enough, right?" He offered, directing that last sentence to your daughter, causing you both to giggle at this ridiculously tall man. "I think that would be okay.." You said, turning to look at your daughter, "what do you think, sweetie? Think he can reach?" You asked with a chuckle. "Yes, pweaseee!! Thank you, Mr. Giraffe!" She exclaimed, looking up at him with a bright smile. "Giraffe? I'm a giraffe?" He questioned, laughing at how adorable the nickname was. "I kinda like it! But, you can call me Yunho, since that's my name." He bent down, ruffling her hair, while looking up at you. "Otays, Mr giraffe Yunho! Can we go play now?" She asked, pulling on his pant leg. About 10 minutes into watching them play, hearing laughs come from your daughter you haven't heard from her since before her dad passed, you looked down at your phone and noticed it was almost time for bed. "Sweetheart, I know you're having so much fun right now, but we need to head home and get you to bed." You said softly, walking up to the game to help her down. "Nooooo, I don't want to go home. I want to stay with Yuyu!" She cried, holding onto Yunho. He pulled her back and gave her a pat on the head before setting her on the floor, "I know, and I want to play too, but you need to listen to your mommy. You gotta get some sleep so you can grow big and tall. So next time you won't need my help and you can play by yourself." She pouted, rubbing her eyes. "I don't want to play by myself anymore, I want to play with you forever!" You smiled sadly at her, knowing exactly what your daughter meant by that. Turning to Yunho, you said, "Thank you again. It's been a long time since I've seen her smile and laugh this much. She hasn't been that happy since her dad passed last year. You helping her play that game made her night and means a lot to me." Picking your pouting, sleepy daughter up to head to leave, Yunho stopped you. "I'd be more than happy to continue hanging out with the both of you, if you'd like?" He said timidly. "I, we would really like that." You replied, a fond smile on your face.

Yeosang:

You're sitting down at a restaurant with your daughter when two good-looking guys sit at the table next to you. "Look, Mommy! That guy looks like a prince!" your daughter says loudly, pointing at the blonde one. "Yes baby, he does, but you can't say that stuff so loud, and it's rude to point." You say a little embarrassed because they most definitely heard what she said given the fact the the one with black hair is giggling like a maniac "But mommy, that means he must have a castle and I wanna go!" She says, getting up and walking towards them."Excuse me Mr prince, can you take me to your castle? pwease I've always wanted to see one." She says, batting her eyelashes at the blodne haired man. You quickly follow after her. "I'm so sorry she's only 4, and she really loves fairy tales. Mostly the princes and castles." You say embarrassed. "Yeah, come on, Yeosang, show the little princess your castle," the black haired one says with a shit eating grin, causing Yeosang to look down, trying to hide his blush. "I'm not the princess," your daughter says to the black haired one. "My mommy is because princesses marry the princes, and I'm not old enough to marry anyone yet." She says matter of factly. With a little nod agreeing with her, Wooyoung replies, "You're so right, little one! So does that mean my friend, the prince here, should be courting your mommy? " He says, nudging Yeosang, who has yet to look up. Yeosang shyly looks to your daughter, "I would be horrored given that your mommy is a very beautiful princess, but I believe that princess should choose their prince." He said, sparing a shy smile towards you. "Well," you say, " I think I might be willing to give this one a chance." Both you and Yeosang are now smiling shyly at each other while Wooyoung and your daughter are sharing a victorious fist bump.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⛓️If you'd like to be tagged in part 2, please let me know!(:

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