#hide your wife hide your grandma too
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oh this was his favorite thing to do ever
#timothee chalamet#snl#snl liveblog#hide your wife hide your grandma too#timothee chalamet snl#lil timmy tim#obsessed#timothée chalamet
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hi, ziggy! ahhh i missed hih ❤️ could you pretty please do something for jealous!eddie where maybe somebody flirts with tooty because she got that milf glow after she had the babies lmao ily ❤️
anon💕💕 thank you for the req! this took a little spin and has an open ending, but!!! the twins are in this and some other familiar faces ❤️ might get a part 2? who knows!
a night out without the kids. almost an unheard of event. but tonight corroded coffin were performing their annual concert the night before halloween.
sissy & oz toted their overnight bags up the paved sidewalk to grandma and grandpa’s house— the same house you had once called home when the wheeler’s took you in as a teen.
reaching the front door eddie squats to eye level with the twin three year olds. “okay you two,” he says in his fatherly tone, “last time you stayed the night grandpa said you terrorized the cat.”
“i no do it daddy,” sissy speaks her little voice high pitched and tattling, “ows chaseded hims.”
a frown spreads on her brothers face his brown eyes pleading, “i did not! sissy made tinky swim in the potty!”
eddie bites his lip to hide a laugh and you take a deep breath, “that’s another thing, the cat’s name is bruce, not stinky.”
“but mama,” sissy complains, head held high in a defiant pose— one eddie recognizes as a mini version of his wife, “boose 's hard to say.”
eddie ruffles her hair and stands up, talking out of the side of his mouth, “always arguing like someone else i know,”
his large hand slides down the curve of your ass pinching the leather fabric snug on your skin, giving it a tight little squeeze.
“eddie!” you scold, swatting his hand away, “not in front of the babies.”
he grabs your waist and pulls you back into him before you can rap your knuckles on the front door. his mouth is hot in your ear, “sorry mama,” he purrs, dancing his tongue on the shell of your ear, “you just look so fucking hot tonight.”
sissy and oz are both slapping the door with both palms as it swings inward. “who’s makin’ all that racket?!”
“gwampa! it’s us!”
“issy and ows!”
wayne smiles as big as he always did when his grandbabies visited, “are you sure y’all ain’t no robbers are ya?”
“gwampa’s silly, daddy!” oz squeaks, squeezing wayne tight around his leg.
eddie grins and chuckles, “aww nah buddy that word is ‘senile’”
you smack eddie in the chest and usher the kids inside to play with their cousin, alex. “thanks for watching them tonight, we really appreciate it,” you say to wayne reaching through the threshold and giving him a hug.
“ah, ain’t no problem,” wayne says flipping eddie the bird behind your back, “karen and i love these little turds.”
“u too oh two be good for grandpa and grandma okay? eddie hollers, “be nice to the cat, sissy… i’m talkin’ to you.”
her little nose wrinkles into a pout and her brows furrow together.
“swear to christ himself, that kid is the spittin’ image of you, tooty.”
“god help me.” eddie pouts, “i’m gonna go gray before i’m forty.”
—
you kiss the kids goodbye and wave from the windows of your jeep before heading to the hideout. eddie looked particularly good tonight, leather pants, a cut off shirt, he even let you smear some eyeliner on his eyelids before tonight’s gig.
“nervous?” you ask, carrying some cords from eddie’s old van that now belonged to big d.
gareth walks past you with an amp, “not really, the hideouts like home away from home, makes me feel 18 again.”
you smile and ruffle his still thick curls, “will coming tonight?”
a sad look replaces his smile, “haven’t talked to him in a week… last i heard from jonathan he was staying with joyce and hopper.”
“he’ll come around man,” eddie says coming through the back door, “he loves you.”
“yeah, i hope.”
—
the boys— men now— rocked a killer show, fans still screaming for the band even though half of them were married and the lead singer had two kids.
you were front in center, in your designated spot that you always stood after the first show where eddie sang ‘lady evil’ just for you.
now you were sporting a new homemade shirt, ‘sitter’ crossed out with ‘mama’ his old leather jacket on your shoulders.
a hand sits on your lower back you giggle, “jeez nance, how drunk are you?”
only it wasn’t nancy, but a random guy. burly and tall, a thick beard on his face matching the short hair on his head, balancing a cowboy. you didn’t recognize him from anywhere and you pull back with a shocked face,
he smiles and you can smell liquor on his breath as he leans in real close, “been watchin’ you all night little darlin’ looks like you need a drink.”
you scowl and turn away from him, looking for jonathan and nancy but they’re nowhere to be found.
“hey,” he blunders stumbling towards you, “you like cowboys?”
you don’t want to give him the time of day or even the satisfaction of a tasteful retort so you do your best to ignore him, looking at eddie as he turns to thrash the guitar riff with jeff.
eddie turns back around to continue the song and shoots you a wink, the same time a big sloppy pair of lips press on your cheek, hard and unwelcoming.
you didn’t see eddie’s eyes turn to black or the way he dropped the neck of his guitar hands balled into fist, you were seeing your own scarlet red, turning and slapping the face of the drunk asphalt “cowboy”.
eddie cuts the band and grabs the mic, “hey fucker!” he pushes his lips in a smooch and whistles like a dog, “here boy, up here.. yeah you— the guy who just got slapped.”
cowboy slap face looked up to the band, “what?”
“you must be new to town, huh? a drifter maybe?”
he lifts his head and spits on the ground, “what’s it to you?”
eddie laughs a little crazy-like, “… that,” he says pointing to you, “is my wife… and i’m sure you don’t know this or maybe your marbles are a little rattled up there with the cobwebs, but..” he jumps from the stage in a dramatic flare, wet hair bouncing behind him, skin slicked in sweat.
he tossing the mic behind him, standing tall and flicking the brim of the guys hat, toe to toe. “i’m not afraid to kill a man.”
“you’re bluffin’,”
“wouldn’t be my first, and for her,” he says moving you behind him, “won’t be my last,”
….
#eddie munson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut
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the shakespeare exhibit -- drabble 3
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: in which tara meets more of your family and learns another secret
warnings: none
word count: 700+
previous part | next part
Cordelia had been put to bed hours ago. You had been given the task by your parents, with the claim that you could get her to fall asleep the fastest, and Tara had watched as you rocked your sister gently in your arms, whispering sweet words to her until her babbles and giggles faded into a peaceful silence.
Maybe, Tara had thought while she stood in the doorway, committing the sight to memory, a baby wouldn’t be so bad right now.
Though the reason for the party was sleeping in her crib upstairs, there were still plenty of people crowded in your ballroom, though you had told Tara that they were all close friends or extended family by that point.
You had been whisked away by a cousin, which left Tara vulnerable to whomever decided to strike up a conversation. And, just as she watched Nate and Eddie begin to march toward her, her line of vision was blocked by your grandparents, who had finally emerged from the wine cellar.
“Hello, deary,” your grandmother said, smiling. “You must be our Y/N’s dear girlfriend.”
Your grandfather stood by his wife’s side silently, and Tara remembered you telling her that he was not too fond of people. She offered him a smile but kept her attention on your grandmother.
“Yes, hi! I’m Tara.” She stuck her hand out, slightly thankful that your grandma decided to shake it rather than pull her into a hug. As nice as they are, I think I’ve had enough hugs for one day.
“It’s lovely to meet you, sweetheart. Y/N has spoken so much about you.” Your grandmother winked. Tara felt herself blush up to her ears.
“She talks about you guys a lot, too! She holds both of you in very high esteem.”
Your grandmother chuckled, and Tara’s ears perked up, realizing that she was who you had gotten your laugh from. “I’m sure she speaks of her grandfather plenty.” She patted her husband on the forearm. “He is, after all, the writer of the two of us, and we all know how much Y/N loves literature.”
Tara turned to your grandfather. “Right, of course. She’s mentioned that you’re a poet.”
Your grandfather’s eyes seemed to light up at the mention of his work. “Talks about her old man, does she? Yes, yes. In my day, I could write poem upon poem.” He looked at your grandmother. “Most of them were for Jane, of course.”
Tara smiled as your grandmother scoffed lightly. This will be us one day, she thought. I just know it. “I’ve read a few of them,” Tara said, and your grandfather grinned. “They’re beautiful.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He stood a little taller and puffed his chest out a bit. “Makes an old man like me feel good, hearing a youngster like you say that.”
“Well, I’m just being honest--” Tara was interrupted by your appearance at her side. You took her hand in yours, beaming at your grandparents.
“Hope these two oldies aren’t boring you, Tar,” you giggled, and your grandmother reached out, swatting you on the shoulder.
“Go on, child,” your grandma said, her tone light. “Go play us a song. Make yourself useful while we speak to your dear girl.”
Play us a song? Tara wondered, her eyebrows furrowing.
You hummed and nodded. “Any requests, my lovely grandmother?”
“Play that one song she likes,” your grandpa answered. “You know…that one song.”
“Ah, yes. ‘That one song’,” you teased. You pulled away from Tara. “Just a moment.” She watched as you crossed the room, settling down on the bench in front of the grand piano that stood in the corner of the room.
Her eyes widened. No way. How many things is this woman hiding from me?
A somber melody filled the room, and all conversations quieted, everyone turning to watch you as you played, your fingers dancing along the keys of the piano like they belonged there.
Tara gulped, her heart beginning to race, a shiver running along her back. Jesus, I’m so in love with her, she thought.
The song began to pick up a bit, and her eyes glanced around the room, seeing your parents sway together and Nate and Eddie sitting still for once, entranced by the tune.
Your eyes closed, your fingers playing faster. You became one with the music, one with the piano, and Tara tried to bite back the smile that pulled at her lips. You looked at home there, on that bench--almost as much as you did when you were explaining literature.
“Oh, I know that look,” your grandfather whispered, and Tara glanced at him. He grinned, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. “Welcome to the family, dear girl.” Softly, he patted her on the back. “Welcome to the family.”
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara x reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna x reader#museum tara#scream 5#scream 6
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Could I possibly request Loki x pregnant aesir (from Asgard) wife reader? Obviously, the first person they would tell is Frigga.
Thank you ❤️ for the Ask
Trigger Warning ⚠️🚨: a Baby + Pregnancy + small mention about being scared of Miscarriage + sad thoughts
The Pregnancy Announcement
It's been a few weeks since you know about your Pregnancy but kept it a secret from your Husband.
Wanting to wait just a little longer because you remembered what some Woman told you about the first Stage of a Pregnancy,it's dangerous - the Risk of a Miscarriage is very high .
You recall them saying to keep it concealed the first 12 Weeks - but Loki isn't stupid he knows right away something is wrong, you can't keep a Secret from him ,not that long anyway.
He figured it out by your Symptoms the mood changes, nausea, how tired and exhausted you are lately .
Loki knows that you are Pregnant with his Child but doesn't understand why you haven't told him ,he feels distressed,hurt and disappointed.
A few days later after taking a shower you looked at yourself in the Mirror, studied your Body, stared at your Belly and realized you can't hide it any longer.
Unintentionally you said it out loud - suddenly you hear Loki say " Oh ,is that so ?" in an Sarcastic Tone.
Nervous you answered " Loki , I .. listen..I can explain"
" You must have a good reason for sure" he replied hurt
" I wanted to tell you..I swear... I was too scared..I thought what if I tell you and then something happened... what if by telling you about it too early I jinxed it ...I didn't want to disappoint you..to make you sad .. I would rather suffer alone " you explain sobbing - cursing your Pregnancy Hormones
"My Love, don't you dare say something like that,I won't let you suffer alone,never.I am sure everything will be alright. "- Loki comforts - giving you a Hugg and a moment later he gently touches your Belly.
He whispered happily " Our Baby "
"I will be a Father " Loki beamed
"Yes ,my Dear ,
It's late , let's go to Bed , Daddy " you teased him
Two weeks later after your check up Appointment
- everything's alright with the Baby , the Heart Beat , the size -
Loki and you decided to tell Frigga about your Pregnancy - She should be the first to know.
Before visiting Loki's Mother you wanted to show him what you bought for Frigga - " Look Loki , isn't this Romper cute - It says ,I love my Grandma - and the little Socks are so adorable, aren't they " you giggled excited
Loki smiled kissing your Cheek.
A short time later you both went to Frigga's Chambers ,she was already waiting for Loki and you .
Frigga claimed it's been too long since the last time you both visited.
Loki answered quickly " I apologize Mother but my Wife wasn't feeling well lately"
"Ohh is that so ,well I hope She feels better now " Frigga replied worried
" Thank you, I feel much better now but more important .....We have to tell you something" you smiled joyful
"Mother,we also have something for you" Loki added ,giving her the cute Baby Clothes.
"I am Pregnant " you announced
Frigga responds pleased with Tears in her Eyes " I am so happy for both of you.I will be a Grandma soon "
A moment later she hugged both of you - kissed Loki's Cheek and told him how proud she is "Seeing you so happy was all I ever wanted my Dear Boy."
My Masterlist
#loki#loki laufeyson#mcu loki#marvel loki#loki fluff#loki imagine#loki x reader#loki x female reader#loki x y/n#loki x you#loki x reader fluff#loki laufeyson x reader#loki fanfic#loki of asgard#mcu#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#mcu x reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel mcu
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someone else tries to get with them
feat loser!kuroo, enemies to lovers!kita, and toxic!oikawa
part 1
cw: fem!reader
loser!kuroo
kuroo's body tensed the second one of them came close to him. he always hates these events — spending hours fake laughing at awful jokes to get on the good side of investors. his only joy is when you tag along, keeping prying eyes at bay.
but kuroo's found himself cornered by three women, all the much-too-young wives of some of his colleagues who were all taken with the handsome ceo.
"this suit looks amazing on you," one of them said. kuroo wanted to tell her that his wife picked out his outfit but before he could answer, another chimed in. "you just fill it up so well, have you been working out?"
his eyes flick over across the room, where you're standing with a quirked brow. you've calmed down a lot since marriage and don't explode with anger every time another woman so much as breaths near kuroo anymore. instead, you took a sip from your wine glass and gave him a look that said, "figure it out."
"can we get you a drink?" one of the other women asks as kuroo feels another pulling on his bicep. did they not see the wedding band on his finger? did none of them notice him walking into the room with you on his arm?
he starts sweating, eyes darting back to you and then the women. kuroo's so used to you taking charge and staking your claim on him but he can't allow you to be disrespected like this.
as one of the women tries to pull him in again, kuroo fights out of her grasp. "i'm married!!!" he blurted out, startling not only the women but a few people that were nearby. embarrassed that he raised his voice, kuroo cleared his throat. "sorry for yelling but i don't think it's appropriate for us to talk like this. i love my wife very much. have a good night."
kuroo makes his way toward you, a smug grin on your face. "so, you into ugly girls or something?"
"baby, please," he whines.
enemies to lovers!kita
you may have found kita absolutely insufferable but most people found him a joy to be around. he was kind and respectful to others. the kind of person that helps others without asking or walks old ladies across the street. it seemed as though kita didn't have an unkind word to say about anyone, except for you.
because of his benevolence, most people wanted to be around him. girls threw themselves at him, knowing that he'd be the type to spoil his significant other. that wasn't the annoying part — because you definitely didn't care about some dumb bimbo trying to get his attention. it was the older women who tried to set kita up with their daughters that irked you the most.
"you know, i have a daughter your age that you'd just be perfect for," or "do you have a girlfriend? my niece could really use a sweet boy like you, can i give her your number?"
even after explaining that he was too focused on his studies and helping his grandma with the farm to even think about dating, these women wouldn't take no for an answer.
"can you tell whoever's blowing up your phone to cut the shit?" you complained, growing tired of the constant buzzing.
kita rolls his eyes at your foul language. he doesn't bother looking at his phone as the two of you lock up the club room for the night. "one of my grandma's friends gave my number to her daughter and she keeps tryin' to set up a date," he says, bored expression never leaving his face.
"you're that down bad that you need your grandma's buddies to get a date?" you scoffed, trying to hide the fact that it may bother you just a little bit that there are so many people trying to get kita's attention.
perceptive as ever, kita catches onto your catty attitude. "she probably won't stop until i say yes to a date," he says nonchalantly, walking back onto campus.
he's only getting a rise out of you. what little free time kita has left from all of his other responsibilities goes to you—both of you know it's true, there's no reason to argue. still, you'd just die if you couldn't make a comment at his expense. "i mean if, sure, you're into ugly girls. this girl can't get a date on her own?" you rambled, stomping beside kita as you head back to your apartment. "but don't let me stop you. i know how much you love doing charity work."
"i won't go if you don't want me to," kita hums, holding the door open for you (1. because he's a gentleman, 2. because he knows it pisses you off.)
"i don't care what you do," you said back to him in a similar mocking tone.
that weekend, though, kita is at your place, where he usually spends most of his weekends. "your date was that bad, huh?" you said as soon as you open the door for him.
"i told her it wouldn't work out and deleted her number," kita answers, carefully removing his shoes and placing them neatly by your door. "i only have time fer important things." he makes direct eye contact when he says it before brushing past you to head to your bedroom.
kita's words stump you for a second, trying to figure out what he meant but soon, his irritating voice comes back, scolding you to hurry back and any thought you had before is forgotten as an insult leaves your lips.
toxic!oikawa
you felt terrible for being late. punctuality was something you always prided yourself on but your boss seemed to think differently, keeping you in the office for hours.
normally, you'd suck it up and accept that you had a shit day at work but you and oikawa had a date planned — one that took ages for both of you to set up.
the image of oikawa sitting at the restaurant alone broke your heart, so you practically raced over there, barely having time to change out of your work clothes.
"i'm so sorry, babe. my boss is such a dick and then the trains were slow—" you rambled as soon as you sat down, immediately asking for your boyfriend's forgiveness
"hey, slow down! it's okay, honey," he said, pushing a glass of wine across the table for you. "i know you didn't mean to be late. you're here now, that's what matters. i already ordered for the two of us."
he had every right to lay into you tonight. this was the perfect opportunity for him to be at his most dramatic, to really make you feel guilty for being late but he acted with a maturity you weren't used to seeing.
"i still feel bad that you were sitting here all by yourself," you said, reaching over to hold his hand.
oikawa shrugged. "well, i wasn't totally alone. our waitress kept me company while i waited."
you hate to say that the second he said "waitress" the alarm bells started ringing in your head. a handsome, young man like oikawa sitting alone in a fancy restaurant is like food on a silver platter for some of these vultures.
and you could only imagine how charming he must have been when the waitress comforted him about being by himself—smiling at her jokes and staring up at her with those warm brown eyes of his, completely unaware of that she would take it as an invitation.
you tried to swallow the bitterness down, not wanting to put a sour note on the night. you opened your mouth to speak but a grating sound stopped you.
"ohhhh, how good of you to finally show," said the high-pitched voice, dripping with faux concern. "i was worried you might have stood this poor man up."
oikawa laughs at the unfunny joke, clearly finding all of this amusing and she practically sparkles at the slightest hint of his approval. "i don't know how you'd ever let him out of your sight. any girl would just love to snatch him right up,'
his eyes glance over at you, ready to see how you'll react. oikawa just loves it when you get territorial of him and even though you've gotten better over the years, there's still that part of you that's always ready to claw someone's eyes out for thinking they could stake their claim on him.
"you're right, any girl would. in fact, many have tried and they've all failed," you smiled up at her, gripping oikawa's hand harder so she would have to take notice of it. "now be a dear and have our food ready soon, okay? i want to spend some time with my boyfriend."
with her tail between her legs, the waitress scurries from the table, muttering something about the food. oikawa laughs again, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. "my mean baby, you know you don't have anything to worry about, yeah?"
of course, you knew. you wouldn't be with oikawa if you didn't trust him but any girl who had the slightest inkling that she could lead your man astray had to be humbled—and oikawa would be lying if he didn't enjoy the possessive look you get in your eye.
"let's enjoy our dinner, babe."
©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!
#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#kuroo x reader#oikawa x reader#kita x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyu headcanons#loser!kuroo#enemies to lovers!kita#toxic!oikawa#🥀#🥀kuroo#🥀kita#🥀oikawa
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"My Wife..."
Forgetful! Fem! Wife! (Y/N) x Husband! Tanjirou
Modern AU!
Tanjirou's POV!
My wife is very forgetful.
“Love, did you remember to take the tea off the stove?” I questioned.
“Did I w- OH! The tea!” she gasped, standing up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. “Darn it!” I heard her shout.
“Burnt?” I questioned, walking into the kitchen.
“Burnt…” she sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry. We can make a new batch. This time, let’s set a timer.” I smiled.
“Okay.” She smiled, perking up a little.
I walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room, continuing to watch the TV. Soon, she came back and laid down on the couch, placing her legs on top of my lap as she clinged onto my arm.
Another thirty minutes into the movie I questioned. “When will that timer go off?”
“Ah! I forgot to set the timer!” she whined, hopping off the couch and rushing to the kitchen. “Ha!” she exclaimed. “Not burnt!”
Sometimes, her forgetfulness is concerning.
“Do you think you might have some disorder or condition?” I questioned.
“A disorder? Condition? For what?” she smiled, looking at me confused.
“Your forgetfulness?” I questioned.
“Ah! No way! It runs in the family, my great grandma couldn’t remember things either!” she spoke.
“Oh, okay then.” I sighed, glad it wasn’t anything serious.
My nose picked up the smell of burnt cookies and I spoke. “Hey. You did set a timer for those cookies… right?” I questioned.
“Darn it!” she huffed, immediately turning around and rushing into the kitchen.
Though sometimes, her forgetfulness is endearing.
“My love, I bought you your favorite pastry!” she spoke, opening and closing the front door as she set the grocery bags on the table.
“Oh, really? You didn’t have to!” I smiled, grabbing the bags and helping her put them away.
“Here!” she beamed, reaching into the bag and giving me a pack of sugar cookies.
“Ah. I appreciate your gift, but these are Nezuko’s favorite cookies.” I smiled.
Sugar cookies are too dry for my taste...
“I knew I was doing something wrong!” she whined.
“Don’t worry! Nezuko will enjoy them!” I smiled reassuringly.
“Then… are these perhaps not your second favorite?” she spoke shyly, lifting a package of chocolate chip cookies up to hide her embarrassed face.
“Those are my first favorite.” I chuckled, reaching and grabbing the package from her hands. “Thank you, dear.” I sighed happily, kissing her cheek as she smiled flusteredly.
“Yes! I’m not a shitty wife!” she spoke, fist-bumping air.
Other times, her forgetfulness could be a bit of a hassle.
“Ah, honey! You were supposed to be ready twenty minutes go! I’ve been waiting in the car!” I exclaimed, shocked to see her lying down on our bed.
“I was?” she questioned.
“Yes! We have to hurry and get a gift and party supplies since you forgot to get them when you shopping yesterday and I texted you what we needed.” I smiled nervously, eying the time.
“Ah! Sorry! I’ll hurry!” she exclaimed, sitting up and gently placing down her stuffed bunny before running to the closet.
Other times, her forgetfulness is quite helpful.
“Oh! You didn’t tell Nezuko that we couldn’t make it to the festival, did you? I was able to get the day off from my boss!” I spoke, running into the kitchen as she was cleaning.
“I was supposed to do what?” she questioned.
“Oh, thank goodness.” I sighed, relieved as I walked over and patted her head.
“Eh?” she questioned, confused on what I’m thanking her for but enjoying the affection nonetheless.
But despite all of the miniature problems it’s caused, it’s one of the charming things about her.
“I forgot what your favorite color was and I didn’t want to ask you since it’ll ruin the surprise, so I bought them in every color.” She admitted, smiling shyly as she carried 20 different stuffed bears into our bedroom.
“Oh! Thank you so much, darling—but you could’ve just asked.” I smiled gratefully, taking them from her hands.
“I know… but I really didn’t want to disappoint you.” She muttered. “If I had the money, you deserve all of the stuffed animals in the world!” she declared, then raced out of the room and back with a red heart-shaped box. “Chocolates too!”
“Thank you very much, love.” I smiled, kissing her cheek as her eyes widen, heat spreading on her face as she smiled flustered.
Even though stuffed animals are more of her thing, it’s still very endearing and adorable. I thought.
However, even though she forgets a lot of small things, she’s never forgotten about me or things she considers important.
“Tanji! Guess what?” she questioned immediately as I stepped through the front door, coming back from work.
“Yes, dear?” I questioned.
“This time I remember to set out meat to defrost, so I made your favorite!” she beamed, almost mispronouncing a word or two, but I could understand her as she was just too excited to form her words. “And I also cleaned up everywhere! And I also got you flowers! And—“ she stopped her enthusiastic ramble “Aw, darn! I forgot I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part!”
“You got me flowers?” I questioned, smiling as I felt my face heat up.
“Yeah. I got you asters and red carnations…” she muttered, sad she ruined the surprise.
“It’s okay. I bet they’re as gorgeous as you.” I smiled, patting her head.
She smiled, raising her head. “I got them because they mean undying love and admiration!”
“And because my hair is red, according to you.” I teased.
“If I say it’s red, it’s officially red!” she huffed.
“Of course, dear.” I smiled.
My wife may be very forgetful and clumsy, but I love her to the moon and back because of it.
Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist
#tanjirou x reader#tanjiro x reader#tanjiro kamado#kimetsu tanjiro#kny tanjirou#demon slayer#demon slayer tanjiro#x yn#x y/n#x you#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#tanjirou#stellar constellations#tanjirou kamado#kamado tanjiro#tanjiro kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#kny x reader#kny tanjiro kamado#x fem!reader#x reader#x female reader#x female y/n#yn#fem reader#female reader#kimestu no yaiba#kny manga#kny anime
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The Photoshoot - When we were young
(Golden Globes special edition)✨
Request: by my dear @zablife as part of my Adele challenge but also + Grandma’s series ♥️
The Photoshoot 2014, 2015
Lee, when you sent in the “When we were young” song I knew right away it would be one of the most special parts of this series, I knew I wanted them to go back in time but I still wasn’t sure where/when/how to add it to the series as it could easily fit into any part. Then when things happened, I remembered I had your requests in my drafts, I knew I had to add some Grandma into the mix, as it’d give me a different approach 🥰
If you don’t read this series, don’t worry! No spoilers!! You just need to know that Yael Murphy is a photographer and Cillian just won his first Golden Globe award.
Word count: 1,175
Based on Adele’s song “When we were young”
Knocking on the door, Yael looked at her husband, a smile growing in her lips.
“Your social battery is still low huh?”
Everybody loves the things you do
From the way you talk
To the way you move
Cillian chuckled and moved on the bed to make room for her.
“How do you know?” He accepted the cup of hot chocolate she was offering him, grateful for the warmth the cup was providing.
“Well you’re hiding in your old bedroom while everyone is downstairs.” She pointed out resting her head on his shoulder.
After the Golden Globes win, they flew back to Ireland and Cillian wanted to go straight home, but one look later from his wife and they were on their way to his parents house for a little family gathering. The Murphy family wanted to celebrate the award with him, but he was worn out, and not because of the jet lag.
Everybody here is watching you
'Cause you feel like home
You're like a dream come true
“You’re adorable, I swear.” Yael teased stealing a quick peck.
Cillian chuckled in response, she knew him so well. He wanted to hide underground after being exposed to cameras, the press and all the people gathered for the awards.
“No matter what you say, wining that Golden Globe it’s huge, and I’m so fucking proud of you and all you’ve done.” Something on his lap catching her eye. “You look just like her.”
Cillian shot her a look, surprised by her words. “It’s my grandma, you think…?”
“Totally, same nose, lips, her eyes were bigger but it’s the same kind, if she didn’t have curly hair I’d thought it was you dressed as a woman.”
A content sigh escaped Cillian’s lips and his eyes went back to the photograph he had found in that old album. His grandmother was wearing a floral dress while holding his mother as they stared at the cake. He had been looking at the albums his Mum had been showing everyone earlier and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back in time, to his childhood around his Ma.
“She was adorable.” He added with a hint of nostalgia, his mind and heart going back in time too the townhouse property, where he spent a huge part of his life. “I remember being so nervous about a stupid prom thing, so one afternoon she was knitting something and I asked her if she knew how to dance…” Yael saw the way his eyes lit by the memories, his soft voice murmuring the little treasure he just remembered, “she stopped and almost threw the needles and yarn, and went straight to the living and started playing music, she showed me where to place my hands, how to guide-you know, lead the way… she made me hear the beat, but she said you need to feel the music.” He added mimicking a femenin voice with a chuckle.
“That’s beautiful.”
But if by chance you're here alone
Can I have a moment?
Before I go?
“She somehow is responsible of who I am today, you know? Those early years while my parents were working all day…” his voice went dry, “she was with me, we went together to the grocery store, we cooked together, the park, she even took me to church.”
Yael chuckled and made a funny face at his last statement.
“That was probably the last time you showed up.” She teased.
Her heart filled with even more love as she saw how tender his expression grew by the memories.
“When I started acting, she always asked me for the script so I could rehearse with her.”
Yael nodded, thinking how much it meant to him.
“And when I did this film The wind that shakes the Barley, the post office released some commemorative stamps, she went and bought a bunch and she’d say to her friends this is my Cill, my grandson.”
You look like a movie
You sound like a song
My God this reminds me, of when we were young
Yael got lost in his velvety voice, it was so immersive, driving her into the memory lane with him.
“The movie had a huge impact in her, since her father passed away in that very same war, trying to defend Ireland, she never got to meet him.”
“I guess in a way, you portrayed that for her, and gave her a closure.”
Cillian tilted his head towards his wife. “You think so?”
“Absolutely sweetheart, books, movies and music, have a way to heal us from the pain we didn’t even know we were carrying…” She squeezed his hand.
Let me photograph you in this light
In case it is the last time
That we might be exactly like we were
Before we realized
Turning on the next page, Yael stared at an image of a woman leaned against a convertible.
“The quality of these photos it’s incredible.” She couldn’t help but admire not only the beauty of the shoot, but the angle and background.
“This must be from my grandparents honeymoon.” Cillian frowned removing the film that protected the photographs. “Yup… I recall grandma saying they didn’t have a budget to go in a trip somewhere ese, so my grandad drove all around the coast.”
“That’s lovely.” Yael murmured placing the photo closer to have a better look. “They’re together in that one.” She then pointed out.
“That’s why they wanted to go back to Kerry every summer.” Cillian sighed. “He built a small house later and I remember staying over there for the holidays every single time, they had to sell it though.”
“Remember when we went? That was a long time ago.” Yael moved her hair away. “Haven’t been there in ages.”
“Time to plan a little holiday?” Cillian gave her his signature eyebrow raised.
“Should I start packing?” She teased, knowing he was eager to disappear for a couple of days. “I’ll book us a place.”
We were scared of getting old
It made us restless
It was just like a movie
It was just like a song
Moving onto the next page, Yael found the cutest photo from all times.
“Oh man! I can’t believe this!” Cillian laughed out loud, dimples showing.
“How come I’ve never seen this one?!” Yael’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “You’re the cutest little boy! Look at you!”
You still look like a movie
You still sound like a song
My God, this reminds me, of when we were young
She looked at her husband and then back at the photograph.
There he was, with the biggest smiles of them all with half his body inside of a vintage mailbox.
“I love every bit of this photograph. It’s perfect.” She beamed at her husband’s portrait. Pure joy and love oozing from every fiber of him.
He looked so carefree and happy.
Let me photograph you in this light
In case it is the last time
That we might be exactly like we were
Before we realized
“Wouldn’t it be amazing to bottle up that little one?” Yael expressed, thinking of her own childhood. “I loved spending the weekends at the cottage with grandma, she played a huge part in my recovery, always looking after me so my Mum could take care of everything else.”
Scrolling through her phone, she found a photo her Mum shared over the holidays.
As a child she loved playing dress up with her cousin, Val.
When we were young
“I remember the very same day my grandma made this dress for me.” Cillian offered his hand to her, to stare at the photo. “She made it out of a nightgown she loved.”
“Is that a Polaroid?” He asked looking back at his wife.
“Yes, my grandpa carried his everywhere.”
“Isn’t it great? How a photograph can take you back in time all the way down?”
Yael smiled proudly.
“That’s the magic of photography… in just one click, you can turn something into a lifetime memory.”
***
Thank you for reading!!
I hope you liked this ✨♥️
Photo inspiration :
And yes, the part of the stamps is real, I read it somewhere and I loved the idea of his grandma buying Cillian’s stamps 💝♥️
Tag list @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @winchestergirl22 @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @heidimoreton @thenattitude @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla @paprikabadger @dolllol2405 @conversationpits @itsilvermorny @lafell @imichelle-l-rigby @yrli8 @cutecurly-hair @mrkdvidal1989 @cillspropertea @hyperfixationsonshuffle @sydneyyya @abbymcguire @shelundeadxxxx @elk96 @pono-pura-vida @lovemissyhoneybee @slimeantha @kmc1989
#That’s what Cill said#cillian murphy x oc#cillian murphy oc#cillian fanfic#cillian murphy characters#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy fiction
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baby, it's cold outside // daniel ricciardo
summary: daniel and his wife celebrate his first christmas without f1 with their daughter while they reminisce on how they got there.
pairing: daniel ricciardo x wife! reader
warnings: just family holiday fluff : )
author's note: why do so many of my christmas collection stories involve kids?? ( george, daniel, charles )
it was bright outside when daniel ricciardo woke up, the bright australian sunrise streaming through the blinds as he stirred in the king sized bed, pulling his wife closer. she hummed in contentment, turning over to nuzzle her face into daniel's warm, bare chest.
"morning, darlin'" the former mclaren driver chuckled, pressing a kiss to y/n's forehead. "how did you sleep?"
"fine." she hummed, eyes still closed as y/n ricciardo absorbed her husband's warmth.
the couple were spending christmas in perth with daniel's parents. y/n had always loved the ricciardo family farm, and she knew that it had always been daniel's happy place. it was a place filled with love and laughter and it had meant even more to them since they had someone else to share it with.
their little girl, cadence elizabeth.
it was march of 2018 when y/n found out she was pregnant. the couple had been married for just under two years and had been casually trying to get pregnant, and daniel would have been lying if he said that news of his daughter's impending arrival hadn't been a big factor in his inevitable move to renault. they'd tried to shield their little bundle of joy from the media for as long as they could, protecting her from the horrors of the world while she was still too young to understand.
as if on cue, the door to the guest bedroom creaked open, floorboards bending under the weight of tiny feet. daniel and his wife giggled, trying to hide further underneath the blankets as they felt the mattress dip under the weight of their new guest as she jumped up and down.
"mommy! daddy! wake up, it's christmas!" cadence elizabeth ricciardo shouted with glee, a stuffed giraffe tucked underneath her arm as she jumped up and down, her parents giggling as daniel sat up and pulled the girl into his arms.
"good mornin' kiddo." daniel laughed, pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead as cadence giggled. "let's let mommy sleep just a little longer, okay? we'll go find grandma and grandpa and make some breakfast, what do you say"?
"and then can we do presents?" cadence begged, eyes wide and pleading.
y/n laughed, the top of her head sticking out from underneath her blanket cocoon. "eat your breakfast first, cadence. and then we'll open the presents with your grandparents, okay?"
daniel got out of the bed, lifting cadence up so that the four-year-old could sit on his shoulders as he left the bedroom. y/n watched them go with a smile, her heart filled with love for the man she married, and the bundle of joy that they created.
life hadn't always been easy. cadence had been born in january of 2019, and while daniel had been able to take the rest of the month off, he eventually had to go back to work, flying to england to help renault prepare for the season. some of the hardest moments of those first few months had been hell for y/n, having to weather it on her own as daniel travelled the world.
and it hadn't always been easy for daniel either. he had missed cadence's first steps, her first words spoken over a video call.
y/n and cadence had been in the paddock a few times before the 2019 season ended, but never for very long before she had to leave cadence with daniel's pr rep, not wanting the noise and the energy levels to upset the poor darling.
twenty-twenty had been considerably harder, but at least daniel got to spend some of it at home, making up for all the lost moments as cadence reached her first birthday. because of covid logistics, y/n and the baby hadn't been able to come to any of the races, out of concern for cadence's fragile infant immune system.
and daniel thinks that might have been when he first started to consider settling down, slowing his life down a bit. he'd always wanted a family, and now he felt like he had been neglecting the ones that he loved the most.
so when it came down to it, looking more and more likely that he was going to be ousted from mclaren, the driver wondered if it might be for the better that he took some time off to reevaluate his career and spend more time with y/n and cadence.
y/n carefully tip toed her way down the large staircase that opened up into the main floor kitchen, sleeves of her sweater pulled over her fingertips and arms crossed over her chest as she stood in the doorway with a content smile on her face.
christmas carols played on the radio while daniel stood in front of the stove, dancing subtly as he fried up some eggs. cadence was sitting on the bar stool in front of the island, grace ricciardo braiding her granddaughters hair as cadence laughed at her father, a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her.
“merry christmas, candy.” y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to her daughters head. “did you sleep well?”
cadence grinned, looking up at her mother. “look, mummy, santa was here!”
“oh, wow!” y/n played along, looking over at the sparkling christmas tree. part of her surprise was genuine, as she didn’t expect grace and joe to have bought cadence so many things. “I think santa is spoiling you.” she grinned, with a knowing and pointed look at grace, who just shrugged.
“my granddaughter has been very good this year.” grace smiled, pinching cadence's cheek.
"you spoil her." y/n mouthed with a laugh before walking the perimeter of the island so that she could stand behind daniel, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her head on his cheek. "merry christmas, baby."
"merry christmas, hon." danny smiled, kissing his wife on the nose before extricating himself from her hold and sipping around to face her.
the radio next to the stove was playing softly, and when the song changed, the australian couldn't help but grin as he started to sing along, taking her hand in his.
"i really can't stay, baby it's cold outside."
its the same thing every year, a family tradition if you will. that family tradition being daniel's terrible singing and a dance with his wife, who will usually humor him and join in with the singing. every time the song came on the radio, they had to stop and sing.
despite all of it's controversy, it had always been y/n's favourite christmas song, partly because for twenty-seven years of her life, she had never seen snow before. the year after they started dating, daniel had helped her make that a reality by spending christmas in austria.
"my mother will start to worry." she couldn't stop the smile spreading on her face as daniel spun her around the kitchen
"beautiful what's your hurry?" daniel sang into the whisk that he was holding while grace and cadence clapped int he background, the younger girl still attempting to teach herself the words
"my maiden aunt's mind is vicious." she sang sweetly, looping her arms around daniel's neck as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, his baritone voice churning out the next lyric.
"gosh your lips look delicious."
"well, baby it's cold outside!"
grace and cadence clapped, and joe looked very confused as he came back inside from tending to the farm.
"what did i miss?"
"how about we start opening presents now that grandpa is back?" daniel suggested with a laugh. "cadence, why don't you go with your grandparents and pick one out. your mother and i will be in there in a minute."
"okay! come on, grandpa!" cadence laughed, running across the room to launch herself into grandpa joe's arms.
y/n laughed thoughtfully, looking at her daughter and her in-laws. "wanted some time to ourselves, did you?"
"wanted to give you something." daniel hummed, taking a small box out of the pocket of his sweatpants.
"daniel joseph ricciardo!" y/n rolled her eyes. "we talked about this! i told you not to get me anything. i have you and cadence, i don't need anything else."
"you say that every year."
"danny."
the driver laughed, passing her the box. "babe, just open it."
rolling her eyes again, y/n slipped her fingernail inside the seam of the box, opening the lid before taking in a breath. inside, on a fine satin pillow, was a pair of earrings. a pair of pearls stacked on top of each other to make little snowmen, with tiny diamonds for eyes and strips of silver for arms.
"daniel, they're gorgeous. thank you." she said softly, one hand on his cheek as she pressed up on her tiptoes to kiss her husband. "i love you."
"i love you more. taking time off from the track will be good for me. i can't wait to spend all of next season by your side, watching our little girl grow up."
"mommy! daddy! hurry up!"
the couple laughed, y/n's head still resting aginst daniel's chest as he kissed the top of her head.
"come on, let's go see what your parents bought her this year."
Tags:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @daydreamingleclerc @flannel-cures @mignonricciardo
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo x reader#the christmas collection 2022#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#Spotify
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You never asked | Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia
Summary: Mickey has a secret. He didn't want to hide it. It's just that nobody ever asked.
Pairing: Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia x fem!reader
Word count: 976
Warnings: fluff. domestic fluff. and i dont want to say anything more bc spoilers
A/N: So this is probably the beginning of many drabbles... Because i literally fell in love with Mickey Garcia, and I have the power to create all the content i want.
Tag list: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74
(if you want to be tagged in everything TGM, let me know <3)
@purplevortexx this is the first appearance of our latina queen. Her time to shine has come.
Mickey Garcia had a big secret. Well, it wasn't a secret. Nobody had asked him if he was married. And he just didn't share that tiny detail.
He loved his wife. More than words could ever express. They met in high school, she was the new member of Mickey's D&D club. Well, it wasn't his club. He was just a member, just like her when she joined. Mickey swears that when Y/N walked through the doors of that small, messy basement they used as a club, he knew.
That was the girl he was going to marry.
He asked her hand in marriage when his training period in the Naval Academy ended. She said yes. He laughed, she cried.
Life was good.
Every time Mickey was deployed, Mickey's grandma, Camila, took care of her. Abuelita Garcia had a room prepared for her nieta (granddaughter) and tried to feed her every time Y/N was a bit sad or missed Mickey. The wizzo loved that his family adored his wife as much as he did. And he also liked how Y/N's cheeks were a bit chubbier whenever he came back from deployment, due to the big amount of tamales that Camila made her eat.
"Camila wants me to gain weight. She said I'm too thin, and I need to eat more, so I can be a good mom in the future," Y/N told Mickey in one of their FaceTime calls.
"Amor, she literally told me that every day for the first 18 years of my life" he answered, chuckling at the thought of Camila filling his wife's plate with more tamales.
"That's where the cute cheeks come from!"
"I don't have cute cheeks" he whined.
"Whatever you wanna say, babe"
-
Mickey had missed his girls a lot during the uranium mission. He didn't want to bring Y/N with him, knowing that he was only going to be there for a few weeks, then he'll be back home.
But now that the mission is over, and he is staying in this base for a while, he needs to tell the squad that he's married.
He can imagine Phoenix's face already.
"So, my dear buddies," says Rooster, setting down his beer. "I think it's time to know more about each other's lives. You know about my life already but… i don't know anything about you"
"I mean, we only know about your life because this mission was more like a soap opera than a life-threatening experience" Bob jokes, grabbing more peanuts.
"Bob, you're not as quiet and shy as I thought you'd be," Hangman comments, moving to play his turn at darts. Phoenix is trying to beat him, even though it's virtually impossible.
"I never said I was. You just saw a guy with glasses and thought that he would be the average quiet kid that sits at the end of the class" the wizzo retorts.
"Which you totally are," Phoenix affirms.
"Hey!"
Mickey smiles, knowing how much Y/N would love to be with these amazing aviators. She is such an amazing woman… Mickey can't wait for the squad to meet her. They keep talking and sharing parts of their lives, and just when it's Fanboy's turn to speak, a little, dark haired baby girl runs into the bar, looking around and trying to find the person she's been missing for weeks.
"DADDY!" the little girl yells, sprinting towards his father, her curls bouncing up and down at every step.
Fanboy, recognizing the voice of his little girl, kneels down, opening his arms for his princess. Once she's secured in his dad's arms, Mickey gets up, looking at the dumbfounded aviators in front of him.
"Did she just call you Daddy?" Coyote questions, looking between baby Garcia and Mickey. "You know what, don't answer. You're identical"
"Yeah, nine months inside me, and she grows up to be her father's spitting image" Y/N says, appearing next to Fanboy. "She missed you so much that we had to come early"
Mickey looks at his wife and then at his daughter, not surprised to hear that his pequeña princesa (little princess) couldn't wait more to see him. She is daddy's girl.
"Mi princesa, ¿no pudiste esperar más?" (My princess couldn't wait longer?)
"Daddy, I missed you so much" the little girl pouts, looking at his father with the same big, dark brown eyes she had inherited from him.
"Cam, amor, ¡sólo tenías que esperar dos días más!" (Cam, love, you only had to wait two more days!)
"That was too much time," she protests.
"Pendejo que no piensas saludar a tu abuela o qué" says a woman standing behind Y/N. The very same woman his daughter got her name from. (Idiot, are you not going to say hi to your grandma?)
"Oh my, abuela. I didn't see you there!" Explains Mickey, a bit scared of his grandma's reaction for not hugging her. It doesn't matter how much of a grown man Mickey is. He would always be a bit scared of his grandma.
"Who are these people, hmm? And why are all of them so skinny! Look at this girl" Camila pinches Phoenix's cheek. "You have to eat more! I have tamales in the car, do you want some?"
"Jesus, abuelita. Don't do that to my friend"
"Payback, why aren't you fazed by this?" Hangman's words make the whole Garcia family laugh, just then moving to hug Cam and kiss her chubby cheeks. "I'm the godfather"
"You mean to tell me that you knew that Fanboy is not only married, but a father, and you never shared any of that information with the rest?" Rooster exposes, feeling really, really betrayed.
And as if Fanboy and Payback had rehearsed the answer for hours, they both say it at the same time. "You never asked!"
#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#mickey garcia fluff#mickey fanboy garcia x reader#mickey garcia x reader#mickey garcia#mickey fanboy garcia#fanboy x reader#fanboy x you#top gun fanboy#fanboy fluff
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The M6 w/ an MC that acts like a grandparent
Grandparent as in the, “you want a hard candy, baby?”, grandparent who thinks every living being is their grandchild. This post has been brought to you by the multiple people who tell me I have grandma rizz. (I put so much love into this, it took me like 4 nights to write — goodbye forever).
Asra
Your mannerisms are slowly but surely rubbing off on them.
If you carry around hard candies and sweeties, Asra 100% enables it by asking if they can have some. They will also buy exotic sweets from their travels for your collection, though the children might not like them.
Y’all are ROCKING the grandparent look !! Crocheted cardigans and flower-patterned shirts in every color of the rainbow are hanging around the bedroom(s) because I KNOW Asra don’t got space in their closet. They probably utilize the Magician’s Realm as a secondary closet to be honest.
Speaking of crocheting, Asra gets a great idea going with the grandparent image and decides to take up either a crocheting or knitting class. The respective instructor may or may not have fainted upon seeing one of their patterns…
Asra finds customers with children much easier to handle with your added patience and patented jar of caramels on the counter.
You want to kill Azz? Fix the buttons on their top like how the wife in Pixar’s “Up” fixes her husband’s tie.
When they had to reteach you how to do daily things again, they thought, in their own guilty conscience, that this was some way of repaying the favor to you. All of the favors. All of your love to everyone.
Julian
He’s used to being the charming one!!
Though, you leave him lots of room for his signature drama and flair, so he warms up to it after a bit.
He wasn’t as easily charmed by your demeanor as the average person was at first. He thought of you as a little lamb in the streets. He could swear you would be the biggest target for getting pickpocketed in the Red Market, but damn you are CAPABLE!!
Madly in love with your capabilities, magic or not. Takes him a bit to get used to your overflowing sweetness (and pocket sweeties), but finds he is also madly in love with those too.
You are like his pocket Mazelinka, and it horrifies him to no end. At least you don’t spike his soup with sleeping potion…
You force him to bedtime and he isn’t up for it until you read him bedtime stories and sing lullabies. He is definitely embarrassed... He’s like, “I’d never fall asleep to MC’s bedtime singing and stories! ZZZzzzzzzZZZZZZzzz”.
Portia
You two are the world’s best grandparents.
Unlike Asra, Portia pursued crocheting/knitting and never stopped. Though she can be busy, she enjoys it as a hobby as has you to thank for it!! (As you stand there confused why she’s thanking you for it).
She didn’t mean any harm by it!! She just wanted to try new things and you happened to be an “inspiration”.
You two have interactions like The Golden Girls. Zero elaboration.
One of the books she read while teaching herself to read was The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. She quotes many things from the book during her work life, but her favorite quote has become, “Every little thing wants to be loved”, before booping yours or Pepi’s nose.
She says it constantly and you’re starting to think it’s just her way of saying you’re cute and she loves you.
But the truth is that and she just loves the way YOU love things. The way you squish Pepi’s face in your hands and sing/talk to the flowers are just a few examples.
Nadia
She might actually tear up.
Could you possibly get more endearing?
To her, you’re the entire package. You’re a blessing in a bundle. You’re strong enough to beat the Devil and sweet enough to cream butter. If she wasn’t so refined and kept, she’d be kicking her feet and rolling around on her bed.
Alas, she knows many other ways to exert her love for you. What? No, she wasn’t going to spoil you with rich delights! — as she inconspicuously waves a hand behind her back to hide the palace tailors in the hall…
Nadia is very well aware of her many duties and obligations, but she knows to leave a generous amount of time for you. After a rushed, exhaustive day of hard work, Nadia gracefully lays her head in your lap and lets you coddle her. She will accept your head pats, listen to the most storybook-like day you’ve had, and talk about her troubles. All the while, you tell her allllll of the things she should do like more frequent breaks and standing up and saying no when she simply cannot do something even though she already knows.
But she loves it. She loves your care, the little things you do around the palace that make her think of you. You recommended the gardeners sing and talk to the plants and she was delighted to hear it made a difference, but every flower in that garden paled in comparison to you. She believes you are Mother/Father Nature.
She frequently has you accompany her during dignitary meetings, etc. as her magician consultant, and as such, you take no “hoot-a-nanny” nor “monkey business”. (Nadia has never had to hold her laughter in this hard). She regains her composure quickly though, and soon discovers many visitors find you very charming and welcoming. She finds this to be a strategic play in negotiations, so she invites you to meetings more often, definitely not because she just wants to see you more…
Muriel
He too thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.
You tend to feed Inanna many treats because she's just such a good girl!! Muriel gently tries to tell you when she's had enough, but Inanna seems to be starving even after his generously suggested amount…
You could paint his face bright red by pinching his cheeks and calling him something cute like sugar or honey or, god forbid, pudding pie.
You went to help him out with the chickens one early morning and apparently one of the chicks was sick and she wasn’t eating enough. So after Muriel was done checking up on her, you bent down and gave her a nice little lecture how she’ll grow nice and strong after she eats. And Muriel DIED.
He firmly believes the chicks are your grandchildren now because they love you back. (Their cheep cheeps are full of love, he insists).
A good half of Vesuvia are your grandchildren now too. You guys are hero grandparents, I don’t make the rules.
Amongst the minimal duties of being hero grandparents, one of them includes having a baking morning and going to the docks in town to call the children over and hand fresh food out later in the day. The kids call him every unflattering name from Peepaw to Gramps, but he assures you he doesn’t mind at all.
Lucio
He finds you so endearing and sickeningly sweet, he can’t handle it.
He dies from the granny pet names too. He acts like they’re regular pet names, but he expected stuff like babe or darling, not butterscotch pumpkin puffball...
He’s met his fair share of old folks at the snooziest diplomat parties, and even though he’s got that worry in the back of his head that he’s getting older and older too, he’s finding it easier to go through it with you.
He enjoys if you sing him old folk songs, some he may have never heard of. (HUGE bonus if he dances with you to your singing).
It is THE most entertaining thing to him when you’re mad at someone. You wave a stern finger at them and lecture them like you’re their parent. It could literally be the most buff, drunk, muscly regular at the bar and you’d scold them ‘til they’ve recoiled back into their seat, and Lucio, of course, brags about it to the world. “Why use magic when you could’ve just scolded the Devil into submission, MC??”
As you two go through each passing day, he appreciates your slow and caring nature more and more. He’s begun to appreciate the little things like the rise and fall of Mercedes and Melchior’s stomachs during their afternoon naps.
If you knew him years ago, he would’ve thought you were strange and not worthy of his time, but now he quite enjoys your mannerisms and spending time with you.
#the arcana headcanons#the arcana game#the arcana hc#asra alnazar#julian devorak#nadia satrinava#portia devorak#muriel of the kokhuri#the arcana muriel#lucio montag#lucio morgasson#too much effort#oopsie#the arcana imagines#main 6#the arcana x mc
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✨ ❤️ ✂️ for Kotya please 🥺
❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?
some of kotya's best memories are from middle school, when she and shurik would constantly hang out and play together. she's made a lot of good memories since then, but these are the ones she treasures the most
✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?
conversely, most of kotya's bad memories are of her high school years. she also vaguely remembers when her parents died when she was in kindergarten & she got taken in by her grandma (which is a part of her story that somehow never got mentioned on this blog because it was never relevant. lol)
✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?
okay this one is actually kind of hilarious. hiding it under the cut because it made the post too long
you see, kotya was origianlly created as a joke fusion of 2 different characters (same for shurik) so her initial name was just those characters' names smashed together, and it sounded very stupid. as i began to flesh her out more the joke name inevitably started driving me insane so i decided to come up with something a little more like a real name.
her og design was something along the lines of "gruff looking mercenary / henchman guy", and i wanted to pick a name that would fit the vibe.
since i'm russian, i circled through some slavic names i personally thought sounded good, including but not limited to: mikhail, viktor, alexey, dmitri, and konstantin.
dmitri, viktor & konstantin were my top 3 picks and i was really leaning toward viktor but my wife pointed out that some random "baby names meaning" website listed "kotya" among nicknames for konstantin, and i instantly lost my mind, because how stupidly cute is that?
to clarify, the "kot" part of kotya is also the russian word for cat, and "kotya" is one of those silly affectionate words you can use to refer to a cat lovingly, just like "kotik" or "kotenok" (kitten). it just sounded so funny. konstantin is such a serious name, and it fit her so well, but she was also kotya. little kitty. i was obsessed.
as for her last name (beliy), it's just the russian word for "white", and i'll be completely honest with you. it's a breaking bad joke. my wife kept spamming me with tweets from this account:
and the rest of it went like this:
and there you have it. the story behind konstantin beliy, localised as constantine white, and also basically meaning "white kitty" when written down as kotya beliy. she's been a silly little kitty since day one.
#character: kotya#character: shurik#setting: main#artist: cbge#answered all for main verse since you didnt clarify. hope its ok#askbox
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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 168
warnings: nsfw
hmh masterlist
Laying in bed, you stare at the ceiling and exhale loudly. Both of your legs feel like they weigh a ton, and you can’t bring yourself to even sit up to check the time. You’re beyond exhausted. Ronan doesn’t sleep too late in the mornings, so you know you should probably get up soon to get her. She isn’t crying yet, so that’s a good sign.
You rub the sleep from your eyes as you sit up a little, and you look over to see that John is already awake and gone, probably getting Ronan up for the morning, so you plop back down and pull the blanket over your head as you try to fall back asleep.
The bedroom door creaks open, and a few moments later, you feel a little baby crawling towards you. You smile as you pull the blanket down, and you laugh when Ronan’s chubby little face lights up when she notices you. Ronan babbles as she crawls faster towards you, and you reach out for her, hugging her in your arms as you kiss her cheek.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?” John whispers as he lays down next to you, reaching over to move your hair away from your face, “Baby?”
“Hmm?” you look up at him and furrow your brow, “What?”
John moves a little closer and places his hand on your waist, “I asked how you’re feeling.”
“Oh,” you take a deep breath and shrug, “Tired. Have you fed her yet?”
The look of concern grows on John’s face as he holds your gaze, “Baby, it’s 11 in the afternoon.”
You sit up a little to check out the time on the clock. Yup, John’s right. 11:24.
“Are you not feeling well?”
Exhaling quietly, you look over at Ronan as she plays with your bracelet, then you look up at John as you tear up, “I’m just so tired.”
“Talk to me, baby.” he whispers, moving closer to you and helping you sit up.
John is always to attentive and tender with you, and he’s being so sweet today that it’s making you feel even more guilty for how you’re feeling. The look on his face is a mixture of sadness and fear, but it’s purely concern for you and your well-being. He’s probably hoping this isn’t another repeat of your postpartum depression.
Ronan crawls down the bed a little, allowing John to move closer to you, and you smile when you see her chewing on one of her new toys you just recently bought her. You look up at John as he watches Ronan with a smile on his face, then you snuggle closer to him as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.
“Can you talk to me?”
You nod, looking down, “I’m just so tired. I just feel like the past few weeks have caught up with me. I just want to lay in bed all day and sleep, but I can’t. I need to do laundry, I have to clean the house today, I especially need to clean our kitchen. Everything is happening so much.”
John chuckles when you look up at him and pout, and he leans down to kiss your forehead, “Why don’t I bring Ronan to your mom’s house? Let you have the house to yourself today. No cleaning, no laundry, no cooking. Just you relaxing.”
“I don’t want that though.” you say as you sit up and look at him, “I want to be with you.”
“Well, I’ll stay with you.” he says, ruffling your hair, “Momma and daddy day, how does that sound?”
You nod, then you look up at him and smile, “Husband and wife day.”
“Husband and wife day,” John repeats, then he nods, “I like the sound of that.”
Reaching down, you grab Ronan and hold her in your arms as she chews on her toy, and she hands it over to you as if you would like a taste.
“No thanks, bug.” you laugh, kissing her cheek, “Do you want to stay with grandma today?”
Ronan bounces on your lap and babbles loudly, furrowing her brow as she looks at John like she’s having a conversation with him. John chuckles as he reaches over to pinch her cheek, and she giggles loudly, trying to hide in your arms when he tickles her.
It’s not that you don’t enjoy these moments--of course you do! You’re just tired, and you need a day to relax. You know you’re lucky to have John, and you know you’re lucky to be able to just bring your daughter to your mom’s so that you can spend some time with him. You definitely don’t take that for granted.
John leans over to kiss your cheek, then he smiles when you look up at him, “She hasn’t had her first solid of the day, so if you want, I can do that for you.”
“I’ll do it.” you whisper as you look up at John, “I can do it.”
“Okay,” John laughs, putting his hands up in defense, “I just…okay.”
You get off the bed and take Ronan when she reaches out for you, then you walk over to John and put your hand on his stomach to stop him from leaving the room just yet, “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”
John nods as he looks down at you and Ronan, “I…I just need to know you’re okay.”
“I am,” you nod, leaning up to kiss John, “I am, I promise.”
Cupping your face in his hands, John leans down and kisses you tenderly, then he leans over to press a kiss to the top of Ronan’s head. “My girls. I love you both.”
“We love you,” you smile, bouncing Ronan in your arms as she giggles. You look up at John and give him a genuine smile, “I love you, John.”
Ronan wiggles in your arms as you hold John’s gaze for a moment, then she lets out one big cry, usually indicating that she’s hungry or needs a diaper change. You smile at John and touch his arm before you hoist Ronan up on your hip more and head downstairs.
“What are we gonna eat today?” you ask, bouncing her playfully as you walk into the kitchen, “Huh? What do we have in the fridge today?”
Looking into the fridge, you feel relief wash over you when you remember that John had done all of the grocery shopping yesterday, and he made sure to get all of Ronan’s favorites. You walk over to place Ronan in her highchair, then you walk back to the fridge and get out a few things for her.
You crack an egg onto a skillet and smile as you look over at Ronan. She’s the spitting image of John, and her little brown eyes always sparkle in the sunlight. If all of your babies look like John, you’d be totally fine with that.
You scramble up an egg for Ronan, then you place it on a plate to cool off while you peel a nectarine and cut up a banana for her. You look up at Ronan as she smacks her hands against her highchair, and you laugh when she begins to ‘talk’ to Bleu, who is never far from her.
“Ooh, we’re talkative today.” John laughs as he comes into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he walks past. “Ooh, and we’re having some eggs.”
“And a banana and a nectarine.” you say, placing them on her plate before walking over to her. “Here you are, little miss.”
Ronan starts to eat, choosing her banana first like always, and you look over at John and smile. He holds you gaze for a moment, then he walks over and reaches for your hands when he leans back against the counter.
“I already called mom. Told her I’d be over soon with Ronan.” he says as he rubs your back, “And as for you, I got a bath all made up for you.”
You look up at John and jerk your head back slightly, “What?”
“I made you a bath. Go get it before the water gets cold.” John smiles, then he leans down to kiss you. “Go, baby.”
You smile as you kiss John’s cheek, then you walk over and kiss Ronan since you won’t see her until later, “Love you, bug. I’ll see you in a little bit. Make sure to pack her blanket--”
“I will, and her stuffed dino.” John smiles, “I got it all.”
You turn around and smile at John again, then you put your hand over your heart as you back out of the kitchen, “Thank you, baby.”
“No need to thank me.” John says, smiling sweetly as he watches you leave.
As soon as you get into the bathroom, you put your hands over your mouth and gasp when you see the tub full of bubbles and several candles lit around the edge. You immediately pull your pajamas off and crawl into the tub, feeling your muscles relax from the warm water. You close your eyes as you sink further into the tub, and a smile spreads across your face as you finally feel yourself relax.
__
The bath was exactly what you needed to get a start to your day. You stayed in it for quite a while until the water turned cold, then you hopped in the shower to wash your hair. Just as you sit down on the bed to apply some lotion to your legs, you hear the front door open, and moments later, you look over your shoulder to see John standing in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a small bag in his left hand.
“What’s that?”
John shrugs as he walks over to you, “Just a little something for you.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” you shake your head as he kneels down in front of you, “I wasn’t asking for all this.”
“I know,” he whispers, handing the bag and flowers to you, “I wanted to do this.”
Holding the flowers to your nose, you inhale the scent of the roses, then you set them aside to open the bag. You smile as you pull out a bag of your favorite chocolate, then you let out a small laugh when you pull out a vanilla scented candle.
“Thank you.” you lean forward and cup his face, pressing a kiss to his lips, “You’re the sweetest.”
John moves to sit next to you on the bed, then he shrugs when you look at him, “What do you want to do today?”
“I just wanna be with you.”
“You do?” John asks, almost taken aback by the thought.
Reaching over for John’s hand, you nod and smile, “Yes, I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” he whispers as he cups your face and kisses you. “Oh, I got you some lunch.”
You laugh as you lean back and look at him, “Maybe we need to have husband and wife days more often.”
John chuckles as he gets up from the bed, then he holds your hand as he leads you downstairs to the living room where your food is waiting for you on the coffee table. Your stomach rumbles loudly when you see it’s a sandwich from your favorite deli, and you walk over to start eating.
“So, do you want to watch a movie or something?” John asks just as you take a big bite, and you shake your head and point to the gaming system. “A game? Oh, no, you’re gonna make me play that one game, aren’t you? I’m bad at it!”
Putting your hand over your mouth, you laugh, “You can only get better if you practice.”
“Ugh,” John jokingly groans as he reaches for the controller, then he shakes his head as you happily eat your food. “Only doing this because you’re so cute and sweet today.”
“Today?” you jokingly gasp, “I thought I was cute and sweet every day.”
John laughs as he looks over at you, “You know that you are, but you’re extra cute today.”
John inhales deeply as he looks at the loading screen of the game, and he shakes his head as he chuckles. You scoot closer to him until your legs are touching, then you lean over and move his hair away from his face to get a better look.
Taking a deep breath, John clutches the controller in his hands, unknowingly moving it in the direction he’s trying to make his character run, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.
“Top right, don’t forget.”
“I know, I know!” he says, furrowing his brow as he stares at the TV. “No!”
You grimace, “Well, you’re dead.”
“I got that guy! I got him!” he says, shaking his head and pointing at the TV.
John doesn’t ever really get mad or upset, but every time he tries to play this game, he gets furious. He’s convinced that you changed the settings on it to make it harder, but you definitely didn’t--he’s just bad at it. It’s nice that he’s bad at something.
“How many times am I going to die before you help me out?” he laughs, furrowing his brow again as he plays. He perks up a little when shoots the guy in the top right corner, then he smiles, “Got him. I got that fucker!”
“Good job!” you move to sit behind John on the couch, placing your legs on either side of his waist, then you wrap your arms around him and look at the TV over his shoulder, “Top corner!”
John laughs as he shoots the zombie, then he looks over his shoulder at you, “I did it!”
“Nope,” you shake your head and kneel behind John, reaching over him to take the controller, “Let me do this.”
John watches in awe as you quickly defeat the rest of the bad guys, then he holds his breath a little when he sees the big boss. You raise your eyebrows and hand the controller to him, but he leans back and shakes his head. You defeat the big boss rather quickly, and John cheers for you.
“Damn!” he laughs, looking at you, “Maybe you should be the assassin in the family.”
You let out a small laugh as you pause the game and set the controller down on the table, “Yeah, for being an assassin, you’re terrible at shooting games.”
“The aiming is way off, trust me.” he says, and you cock up your eyebrow to tease him. “I’m…good. You know this.”
You laugh loudly, “Are you bragging, Mr. Wick?”
“Maybe,” John smirks as he leans back to kiss you.
Kissing John softly, you inhale deeply as you move to sit down next to him, and you wrap his arm around your shoulder. You know he’s probably still wondering what’s going on with you, so you figure now is a good time to tell him, but he stops you before you can even open your mouth.
“You’re…still happy, right?” he asks, and you look up at him as you nod. “I know you’re happy with Ronan and all, but I mean me. I still make you happy, right?”
“Yes!” you sit up more and turn to face John as you reach for his hands, “John, you make me so unbelievably happy. Wait, is that why you did the bath and the flowers earlier?”
John shrugs as he looks down, “I would do that for you anyway, but I just thought maybe you didn’t like me anymore. I wanted to show you that I still like you.”
“I like you,” you tilt his chin up and smile, “I like you a lot. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone before. I also love you too. I like you and I love you.”
John smiles, “Good, because I like you and I love you too.”
“I promise I am still as crazy about you as I was when I met you. Actually, I’m even crazier about you, which almost seems impossible at this point.” you say, looking down as John grips your hand, “Baby, I am so in love with you. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life. You’re the best daddy to our amazing little bug, and you’re the best husband in this world. Of course I’m biased though.”
Taking a deep breath, John reaches over and places his hand on your cheek, smiling when you lean into it for the warmth, “I just don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I’m definitely not unhappy.” you put your legs over John’s lap and scoot closer to him, smiling when he pulls you even closer to him. You look out the window and sigh a little, “I just feel like I’ve kind of lost myself lately. I just feel like I’m not me anymore. I feel like I’m just a mom and a wife--and it’s not that I don’t love those things because I do! I love being a mom and wife so much. I love being your wife and I love being Ronan’s mom.”
John nods, “Right.”
“It’s like every day I wake up and put on some unflattering clothing, put my hair up into a messy bun because I don’t have time to do it and I just go about my day. Lately I haven’t been taking the time to get ready in the morning. I haven’t been doing my hair and my makeup. I feel so gross and I feel like I’m just not me anymore. I don’t feel like sexy anymore.”
“What?”
You nod, “I used to get so dressed up and wear sexy stuff, and I don’t feel like that way anymore. I just wear…mom clothes. I know that this isn’t all the time and it’s just a little slump that I’m in but I feel like I can’t get out of it right now. I know that next week I probably won’t feel this way, but for now, this is how I feel.”
“You are so sexy, Y/N. I’m not just saying that.” he says, and you blush. “I know you won’t believe me because you don’t feel that way right now, but trust me, you’re sexy.”
“I’ve gotten lazy, I think.”
John shakes his head, “You’re tired. And I get it. It’s tiring having a baby. I’m tired too!”
“You sure? You’re so…energetic.”
“Because I’ve just always been like this. I’ve always been go, go, go since I was young. But I get tired. I practically fell asleep at my workbench the other night when you took Ronan out. I actually laid down on the couch and slept, which is why I stayed up until almost 3 AM that night so I could finish the book I was working on.”
You sigh as you look up at him with sad eyes, “I sent my daughter to my mom’s house so I could relax and spend time with my husband. I’m such a bad mom.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad mom at all.” he says sincerely, “Baby, you do so much for Ronan--it’s hard to take care of a baby. You are not a bad mom.”
You look down as you tear up, “I feel guilty for needing a moment to myself. I feel like it makes me a bad mom.”
“It doesn’t.” John cups your face and brings your gaze to his, “Wanting alone time is good! You deserve time for yourself, it’s a way to recharge and be a good mom.”
“But you don’t need time for yourself.”
John laughs, “I do, and I get that when I work on my books in the basement. Ro is too little to go down there right now so you usually stay with her upstairs when I’m working down there.”
“That’s true, plus apparently you nap.” you laugh quietly, and John smiles as he leans over to wipe away your tears. “I just think I needed a day to recharge and relax, and I got that today because of you.”
“You deserve that, but I don’t ever want you to get to this point again, okay? Next time you’re starting to feel a little run down, tell me. I’ll take care of the rest.”
You look down as your chin wobbles, then you gasp for air as you look up at John, “Do you think she thinks I’m a bad mom?”
“Sweetheart, no,” John pulls you into his arms as you cry, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, “She does not think you’re a bad mom. She loves you. I bet she can’t wait to see you tonight when we pick her up.”
Looking down, you hide your face in your hands as John holds you, and he leaves his lips pressed to your forehead as you try to calm down. You tilt your head back to look at John, and he smiles as he carefully wipes away the tears on your cheeks.
John really is your best friend, and he’s the absolute man of your dreams. He knows just what to say to make you feel better and he knows exactly what you need.
“I love you.” he whispers, holding your gaze as he leans down to kiss you, “You’re an amazing mom and wife, but you’re not just a mom and wife. You’re a business owner, a friend, a sister, a daughter. You’re the most amazing woman I know.”
You chuckle softly, “I’m failing in the wife area, to be honest. You thought I wasn’t happy anymore.”
“No, I think I’m just paranoid.” he says, and you look up at him, “Everything is going so well for us. We have a great marriage, our sex life is a solid 10 out of 10, definitely no complaints there, Mrs. Wick. Everything is going so well, I just get paranoid that it’s too good.”
“You really think I’m going to just leave you?”
John shakes his head as he shrugs, “I just worry that something bad is going to happen when things get too good.”
“Things have been good for almost three years now, has anything bad happened?” you ask, and John shakes his head. “Exactly! Because you deserve all of this. Everything that you have, you deserve. Your family, your friends, your wife, your daughter--you deserve these things, baby.”
Wrapping his arms around you, John pulls you closer to him as he kisses you tenderly as you move to straddle his waist. He buries his face in your chest and inhales deeply before he looks up at you.
“We’re far from perfect, aren’t we?”
John laughs as he nods his head, “We’re perfect for each other, I know that.”
You dramatically go limp in John’s arms, falling against his chest, “You’ve done it, Wick. You’ve killed me. Yet again!”
A small chuckle escapes from John’s lips as he leans back to look at you, “Are you feeling better now?”
“Yeah, a little.” you say, and he raises his brows, “I don’t know! I’m feeling like 17 different emotions. On one hand, I just wanted to spend the day with you, then on the other, I want to be sitting here with Ronan between us while we watch a movie. I also want to go out with my friends for the first time in a while and just have fun, but I also want to put on lingerie and just let you rip it off of me. I don’t know. My emotions are everywhere.”
John blinks up at you, “Um, can we go back to the part where you said you wanted me to rip lingerie off of you, because we can absolutely do that. Right now, even.”
“Of course you only heard that.”
“I didn’t only hear that!” he laughs, squeezing your sides, “I heard it all, and if you wanted to hang out with your friends tonight, I would be absolutely okay with that. I would be okay with doing whatever you want to do tonight.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and lean down to kiss him, “I want to do this. I want to spend the day with you.”
“Good, because I want to spend the day with you.” he whispers against your lips, rubbing your sides, “Seriously though, how are you feeling now?”
“I still feel a little guilty though for wanting to just spend time with you. Especially when you always seem to be fine. I remember when I was pregnant, we would always say how we’d never get to the point where we don’t date each other, and here we are.”
John laughs, “We’re not there, baby. Definitely not. We still have date nights, I still surprise you with gifts and days for us alone. I will admit that these past few weeks have been a little tough on us. Having a baby is hard. The day she was born, our lives changed in so many ways. So many ways that we didn’t even expect. It’s hard to have a kid, it’s hard to navigate life with a kid. No one thinks you’re a bad mom.”
You inhale deeply and look up at him, “Okay.”
“Hey,” John cups your face and smiles when you look at him, “And trust me, I want to spend time with you--just you. I had my hand down your pants the other day, and I was so damn happy, but someone interrupted us with her crying. When you came back into the room, you were just tired, so I let you go to bed.”
A smile spreads across your face as you look at John, “You were sad?”
“I was a bit sad, I won’t lie.” he chuckles, then he looks up at you, “You know that I still love you and want you, and I…need you. Baby, I couldn’t function without you in my life.”
You cup John’s face in your hands as you lean down to kiss him, tilting your head to the side for a better angle. You wrap your arms around John’s neck as he grips your waist, then he holds tight to you as he gets off of the couch and walks up the stairs with you in his arms.
John gently lays you down on the bed and smiles before he begins to kiss down your entire body. He stands up at the end of the bed and holds your gaze as he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down, then he licks his lips when he pulls your underwear off and you spread your legs open.
Closing your eyes, you smile to yourself as John sucks and kisses on your thighs, then he pulls you closer to him when he kneels on the floor. You hum loudly when John buries his face between your legs as he gently licks and sucks on your clit, then he uses two fingers to part your lips to dive in deeper.
“Shit…” you arch your back and reach down to run your fingers through John’s hair, “Fuck, baby.”
“Mm,” John looks up at you as he licks his lips, “So good.”
Arching your back, you throw your head back and grab the sheets as John slowly shakes his head back and forth between your legs, and you let out a loud moan when his nose bumps your clit. You whimper loudly as you sit up to watch John, and he holds your gaze while he begins licking you feverishly and relentlessly.
“Fuck…” you try to move away from John when you feel like you’re about to come, but he holds your hips tight and winks at you. “I don’t wanna come without you.”
John gives you one final lick before he stands up and unbuttons his jeans, pulling himself out of his pants. He rests his hands on either side of your head as he lays down on top of you, and you both look down, watching as you slide him between your legs.
Pumping his hips slowly, John holds your gaze and smiles, then he leans down to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his lips. He pulls your shirt up so he’s able to see your breasts, and he licks his lips before leaning down to suck on your pierced nipple. You whine loudly as you arch your back, and you close your eyes when John thrusts his hips deep and slow, nearly slipping from between your legs with every thrust.
“You’re so wet.” he whispers, smirking when he looks at you, “I love it.”
Closing your eyes, you pull John down to kiss you since you know you’re about to come, and you cling to him as you whimper and moan, almost screaming his name every time his hips pound down on yours.
“Look at me, baby.” John whispers as he lays down on you more, slowing his thrusts down and taking his time with you, “I love you. Never forget that. I love you more than anything in this world.”
“I love…” you moan quietly, squeezing your eyes shut, “I love you too.”
John pecks your cheek and sits up, then he begins to jerk his hips harder and faster to help bring on your orgasms. You grip John’s biceps in your hands as you spread your legs further, and as soon as John begins rubbing circles on your clit, you immediately start to shake and whimper loudly as you come.
“Oh, fuck…” John murmurs as he looks down at you, watching as the pleasure takes over, then he lays down on top of you as he jerks his hips, filling your core with his warmth.
The two of you stay in each other’s arms as you try to catch your breath, and you press kisses to John’s cheek as he lays on top of you. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes and hug him even more to keep him in place.
“Just like you need me, I need you.” you whisper to John, and he sits up a little to look at you. “I couldn’t do any of this without you, John.”
John smiles as he leans down to kiss you, leaving his lips there for a moment and savoring the taste and feeling of your lips pressed together. He inhales deeply and leans back to look at you, then he sits up and begins to smother your face and body in kisses as you laugh loudly trying your best to scoot away from him.
“Get back here,” he laughs, grabbing your legs and pulling you back to him, “Why don’t you and I go grab some dinner in a little bit? I know you just had lunch, but maybe we can get some dinner tonight then we’ll pick up Ronan?”
“Sounds good.” you say softly as you cup John’s face, “How did I get so lucky?”
John shrugs as he smiles, “How did I get so lucky?”
__
Walking into your mom’s house, you hear her singing quietly to Ronan as she bounces her in her arms. She leans her cheek against the top of her head and smiles as she closes her eyes, walking back and forth in the kitchen. You tiptoe a little closer as to not wake Ronan if she’s sleeping, but when she notices you from over your mom’s shoulder, she reaches out as she calls out for you.
“Mama.” she says, reaching out with little grabby hands and bouncing with excitement. “Mama, mama, mama.”
“Hi, bug!” you smile as you walk over to her, taking her from your mom and kissing her cheek repeatedly, “Oh, my goodness, I missed you so much today. Did you have fun with grandma?”
Your mom chuckles, “She’s like a little bullet and so damn inquisitive!”
“Yeah, we had to get covers for all the outlets at home because she’s so curious.” you smile as you hold Ronan close to your chest, inhaling the scent of baby soap. “She’s like our little shadow right now. Whenever John is, Ronan is right behind him.”
You loved having the day for just you and John, but every time you’re away from Ronan for more than an hour, you remember how much you love her and how your world revolves around her. She is the center of your universe, and a day doesn’t go by that you aren’t thankful for all that you have. A beautiful daughter and an amazing husband. An amazing husband who is dying to come hold you and your baby.
“Dada,” Ronan whispers as she looks up at John, reaching for his beard, and he leans down a little for her to be able to grab it.
John chuckles as Ronan tugs his beard lightly, then he playfully nibbles on her hands, causing her to squeal with delight. She bounces so wildly in your arms that you have to hand her over to John, and you shake your arms when John has a good grip on her.
“Man, she’s getting heavy too.” you laugh, shaking your head as you lean over to kiss her cheek, “You’re gettin’ so big, aren’t you, bug?”
Your mom gestures to the couch, and you all follow behind her to sit down. John places Ronan on the floor so she can play with some toys, then he reaches for your hand when he sits down next to you.
“How was your day?” your mom asks, cocking up her eyebrow a little--of course John probably told her why he was dropping off Ronan.
“It was good,” you nod as you look over at John, “It was really good. Just what I needed.”
Your mom looks down at John holding your hand, then she looks up at you with tears in her eyes, “Everything is okay with you two, right?”
“Yes!” you laugh, taking John’s hand in both of yours, “Of course.”
Exhaling, your mom puts her hand over her heart, “Oh, good. Jonathan didn’t tell me anything when he dropped off Ronan, but he seemed a little…unsettled, and he was inching his way to the door just to get back to you.”
You smile as you look over at John, and he smiles bashfully as he looks down. You look back at your mom and shrug, “I was so tired this morning, and I don’t know if it makes me a bad mom, but I just needed some alone time, and some time with my husband.”
“That does not make you a bad mom, honey. You’re a wonderful mother, look at your baby.” she says, and you look down at Ronan stands between your legs and grins up at you. “She’s doing so well and that’s all because of you and John. Taking time for yourself doesn’t make you a bad mom. And wanting to spend time alone with your husband doesn’t make you a bad mom either. How else are you going to give me more grandbabies?”
“Mom, ew.” you scrunch your face up and shake your head, and your mom and John both start to laugh. Ronan babbles loudly as she walks back to her toys, and you shrug as you look up at your mom, “I just felt guilty for wanting to spend time with John. I don’t want Ronan to think I don’t love her.”
“When Ronan is 13 and wants to hang out with her friends instead of you, will you think she doesn’t love you?” your mom asks, and you shake your head. “Exactly. Honey, she knows you love her. We all know how much you love your baby. I promise that no one, including your daughter, will think you’re a bad mom for taking some time for yourself. Having some alone time and focusing on yourself will help you be an even better mom, if that’s even possible.”
John pats your thigh and smiles, “See, I told you!”
Looking up at John, you smile at him as you lean over to rest against his shoulder, “John said all those things to me too, but part of me thought it was just John being John.”
“Honey, you’re very lucky to have a man like him.” she says, and you nod your head, “I know you know that. And Jonathan is just as lucky to have you. If the roles were reversed, I know you’d do the same thing Jonathan did. You two have a very healthy relationship.”
You let out a small laugh as you sit up, “Mom, you’re starting to sound like a therapist.”
“Well, I give good advice.” she says, shrugging as she smiles. “Get out of here, you three. I’m sure you’re ready to put this one down for the night.”
John gets up to pack Ronan’s bag, then he slings it over his shoulder before he leans down to pick up Ronan, “We gotta go for our nightly walk too.”
“Hey, where’s dad?” you ask, looking around the house.
Your mom laughs, “Well, you know him, he’s so friendly. He met a friend, and your dad is now part of a bowling league.”
“Wow,” you laugh loudly, shaking your head, “Go figure that Dan would find something like that here.”
“Gives me some alone time.” she says, then she looks up at you, “See? Alone time is good!”
You smile as you lean over to hug your mom, then you look at Ronan as John presses kisses to her cheek, “We better get out of here.”
“Say bye to grandma,” John says, walking over to your mom so she can kiss Ronan goodbye, then he reaches down to hug her, “Thanks for taking her on such short notice.”
“Ah, I don’t mind. I always love having her. I had Finn for a little bit earlier too.” she walks with you to the door, then she touches your back to get your attention, “You’re a wonderful mother, and I couldn’t be prouder of the extraordinary woman you’ve become. I’m so proud of you.”
Immediately tearing up, you look down as your chin wobbles, “Thanks, mom. I learned from the best.”
Your mom lets out one big laugh, “Let’s end this conversation here, that was quite the compliment.”
“Love you, mom. We’ll call you this weekend.” you say as you walk onto the porch, then you smile at her from over your shoulder, “Bye.”
__
You’re clinging to John’s arm as he pushes Ronan in her stroller, and every so often, he leans down to kiss you. He smiles tenderly when you meet his gaze, and he leans down to whisper that he loves you in your ear before you cross the street.
“Thank you for today.” you say, looking up at him, “I’m so lucky to have you, I hope you know that.”
John puts his left arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him so he can press a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m lucky to have you!”
Ronan babbles loudly and kicks her legs, so you lean down to look at her as she chews on her hands. Bleu is walking closely to the stroller, like he always does, and he sniffs Ronan when she makes noise.
“We did a good job, huh?” you ask, and John furrows his brow a little, “Our little girl. She’s so perfect. Nothing will change my mind about it, you and I were meant to be. You were meant to meet me, just so we could bring her into this world. I fully believe that.”
John smiles as he nods, “Me too. I also believe that I was meant to meet you just so you could show me what it was to be happy again. I’m so happy with you, I haven’t ever felt this happy.”
You stop walking as you reach up to wrap your arms around John’s neck, and he pulls you closer as he presses his lips to yours. The two of you are a little caught up in one another as you make out, and you don’t even notice Jimmy and Tess walking towards you.
“Ew, you two are so gross! They are families around here!” Tess teases, then she smiles when you look over at her.
When Finn notices Ronan in her stroller, he runs over to her, saying her name over and over. He finally reaches her, and Ronan squeals with delight as the two babble to one another.
Finn is a big fan of Ronan, and he’s usually always hugging her and kissing her. You’re fairly certain they’re going to best friends when they’re older.
“What did you two get up to today?”
You take a deep breath and look at John before you look over at Tess, “Nothing, really. John dropped Ronan off with mom for a little bit, then we just spent the day together just hanging out.”
“Oh, cool,” Tess nods, then she cocks up her eyebrow a little when John moves to talk to Jimmy. She looks back at you and furrows her brow, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod as you take Ronan out of her stroller when she reaches for you, then you hand her to Tess when she leans towards her, “Yeah, I was just super tired, so John took Ro to mom’s house for a bit so we could spend some time together.”
Tess widens her eyes and gasps, “Are you pregnant?”
“What? No!” you laugh, then you shake your head when John looks at you, “I’m not. I’ve just been so exhausted lately. Life is just taking a toll, and on top of it, Ronan’s teething. I just think I was a little overwhelmed. John brought Ronan to mom’s house, and the two of us just hung out. It was nice to just be husband and wife for a bit.”
Cocking up her eyebrow, Tess smirks and nudges your arm, “I bet.”
You know that you’re not in alone in the way you were feeling earlier, so you decide to ask Tess. “When you first had Finn, did you start to feel like you were losing yourself?”
Tess laughs, “Yes, all the time. For the first year of his life, I didn’t know who the hell I was. I felt so lost. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore.”
“I just feel like…I’m nothing more than a mom.”
“Yeah,” she nods, then she smiles, “But it’s just a feeling. It’s not true. You’re more than just a mom. You’re so much more than that.”
You sigh, “I love being a mom though.”
“So do I, but sometimes it’s nice to just be a wife,” she says, and you look at her, “Or a friend, or a sister. Or just a fucking woman! Jimmy took Finn to his parents for the weekend and we just spent time together, we went out with you and John for dinner. I got in bed that night and sobbed because I missed my baby. Motherhood is complicated.”
“Yeah, you can say that again.”
Tess laughs, “Motherhood is fucking complicated!”
“Anyway, I feel much better now. I talked with John, and we had a good day.” you smile as John walks over to you, standing behind you and putting his hands on your shoulders.
“We should do it more often.” John says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You nod in agreement, then you smile at Tess, “We better get home and put this little bug to bed.”
Tess bounces Ronan in her arms and kisses her, then she kneels down so Finn can kiss her too. You smile as Ronan leans over to give Finn a kiss, and then he looks up at you and reaches up.
“Give auntie a kiss,” Jimmy says, and he smiles when you lean down to kiss Finn, “And uncle John.”
John picks up Finn in his arms and kisses his cheek, then he sets him back as Finn giggles--he’s still pretty obsessed with John, “Bye, Finny.”
“Bye-bye.” Finn says, then he turns around to play in the grass as the rest of you say goodbye.
Taking Ronan from Tess, you smile at her, “Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I want to try some photography. Maybe I can get some pictures of you and Ronan?” she asks as you back away, and you nod. “Maybe I can even get Mr. Wick to join us?”
John laughs, “Yeah, maybe. Night, guys.”
“Goodnight!” Tess waves, then she turns around and reaches for Jimmy’s hand as Finn walks in front of them.
You hold Ronan tight in your arms as she leans against your chest, and John looks over at you and gestures to the stroller. You shake your head and lean your cheek against the top of her head as you continue walking down the street.
“You still look so good with a baby.” John says, and you chuckle as you look up at him. “She’s really looking like you right now. That dimple in her cheek just kills me. Yours too.”
You look down at Ronan as she stares at John, playing with the sleeve of your shirt. A smile spreads across her face, showing off that little dimple, and she sits up a little as she giggles when John leans closer to her face.
“She’s pretty crazy about her daddy. Guess we also have that in common.”
John smiles as he looks down at you and wraps his arm around your shoulder, then he lets go as you all head back to the house. John quickly puts away the stroller in the closet and looks over at Ronan as she struggles to keep her eyes open.
“She’s tired. I’ll make her a bottle.” he says, leaving for the kitchen as you walk up to Ronan’s room.
Placing Ronan on her changing table, you change her diaper and talk to her while you get her into her pajamas, “I hope you know how much I love you, bug. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You and your daddy are my entire world, and I love you both endlessly.” you snap Ronan’s pajamas shut, then you bounce her in your arms as you wait for John to bring up the bottle, “Momma just needed some time to herself today with daddy. He’s a pretty good guy, we really lucked out with him. Makes me sad to think about what he’d be up to if I hadn’t met him.”
“I would likely be dead.” John says, and you smile as you turn around, “I would be sad, I would be…incomplete. This right here, you and Ronan, this is what I needed.”
You laugh tearfully, “You make it so easy to fall in love with you.”
John walks over to you as you sit down in the rocking chair to feed Ronan, then he pulls up the footstool and watches as Ronan’s eyes begin to flutter open and shut. She drinks part of her bottle before she falls asleep, and the bottle slips from between her lips as she finally falls into a deep sleep.
“I just wanna keep her this age forever.” you whisper as you look down at her, “I hate that she’s growing up, but I also love how much she’s learning and growing.”
John nods as he leans over to rub her cheek, “I will admit, sometimes I do miss that tiny baby we brought home from the hospital.”
“Me too.” you laugh as you stand up from the chair, then you press a soft kiss to Ronan’s cheek before you hand her over to John. “Goodnight, bug.”
John holds Ronan in his arms for a few moments before he kisses her cheek, then he carefully places her in her bed, “Goodnight, baby girl.”
You and John reach for each other’s hands as you look down at Ronan, then you turn on her nightlight and noise machine before leaving the room. John looks down at you and smiles as you walk down the hallway towards your room, and he winks at you, causing you to get a little flustered.
You look down at John’s watch and smirk when you look back up at him, “It’s only a little after 8…”
“Yeah, it sure is.” he says, letting go of your hand as you walk a little faster to the bedroom. “Round 2, Mrs. Wick?”
Biting your lip, you nod your head and wrap your arms around his neck, “Yes, please.”
__
taglist:
@sakurachan-9
@beingnerdyissupercool
@tnu-ree
@ruby-octo
@scream-queen-25
@ladyren33
#john wick x reader#john wick x you#john wick x y/n#john wick imagine#fic: hold my hand#best husband and dad iktr!!!!#i love them your honor#like what a caring and kind husband#and she's so real for being like look i just wanna hang out with u#and she's totally valid for feeling like she's lost herself#i'm not even a mom and i feel that way sometimes#anyway enjoyyyyyy
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Seven Lives (Steven Grant x reader)
Masterlist | Spotify Playlist
A/N: I watched Chennai Express again somewhere last week and decided to write this drabble, added my favourite place on the planet + my favourite person on the planet. I also cried writing this so-
Word Count: 783 words
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You stared glumly up at the set of stairs in front of you, angrily nibbling at the lime ice cream in your hand. The limestone caves above you looked magnificent and you were so tempted to go up and explore the intricately carved temple, it had, after all, been years since you did. You glance up at the big statue beside the stairs and frown.
“I’d go up but this little fella won’t let me,” you mumbled to the golden-faced God, rubbing at your swollen tummy.
Your grandma had forbidden you from going up due to your pregnant state. She had been wary since you expressed interest in taking your husband there, saying that he would appreciate the beautiful architecture and history.
“What are we looking at, darling?” your husband whispered and you turned to frown at him.
“Aw love, what's wrong?” He said taking your face in his hands.
“I wanna go up.” You said, nodding towards the stairs.
“Your ammamah is not gonna be happy, my sweet wife.” He frowned back, eyeing the stairs with you.
“Hey! You’re the one who did this to-” you say a little too loudly and Steven clamps a hand onto your mouth.
“Holy place!” he hissed through a smile.
The both of you stood there a little longer, watching people walk up and down the colourful concrete staircase. You loved this place, it gave you peace and tranquillity like no other and you felt amazing. But it truly did make you sad that you couldn't waddle your way up the stairs.
“Alright, you know what…” Steven Grant folded the sleeves of his kurta and suddenly scooped you up into his arms bridal style as if you weighed like a feather.
“NOOO STEVEN PUT ME DOWN!” you squeal, grabbing onto the edge of your saree.
“Come on love, what kinda superhero doesn’t do superhero things for his wife?” Steven winks down at you and kicks his shoes off.
You hide your face behind the long edge of your saree as people begin to stare and point the second Steven started walking up the stairs with you. The arm that is hooked around Steven’s neck was already a cry for help, but part of you really did want to go up to the cave.
“Steven, there are people watching.” you mumble and hang onto him tightly.
“Let them watch, keep your eyes on me, love.” He whispered back, watching his footing.
“Two hundred and seventy two steps, Steven.”
“I’ve done more.”
“Yea, without your pregnant wife in your arms!”
People around you started to coo and shout praises, all which Steven nodded politely to. You watch your husband’s face for any sign of a strain, his jaw set in concentration and the feeling of being rocked in his arms easing out all of your anxieties. Steven’s hands on you grounded you to him, and you held to that feeling like it was your life line.
“Did you know that the cave is 400 million years old?” Steven says, as he continues to take step after step.
Steven continued to dish out facts and you listened intensely, nodding at each of them despite already learning all of the facts by heart. You watch him say hi to a monkey and your eyes shift to the vel-shaped entrance of the cave. Your heart swells with pride as people around you cheer and clap as Steven slowly sets you down slowly before kneeling down and adjusting your saree’s pleats.
You were in your favourite place on Earth and all you could do was look at your husband. You can’t help feeling lucky and loved. You teared up as elderly folk swarmed Steven, touching his head and giving him their blessings. Once the crowd cleared, Steven reached out to grab your hand, pulling you close. He set a hand onto your tummy and knelt down again, pressing his ear against you.
Was it really possible to fall in love with the same person again and again?
“Your mummy is very spoiled, little one, I’d do anything for you and for her.” You smacked Steven’s head and he laughed, getting up and encasing you in an embrace.
“Thanks, Steven, I love you.” you mumble in his chest while he fixes your hair.
The seven-lives bond that people always talked about when it came to marriage didn’t seem true to you then. You’d hate to see someone else with Steven in his eighth life. But you’d have seven lifetimes to ponder over that. Now, you held onto Steven’s hand tightly as he led you to the cave temple, Steven chastising you to watch your step as he stirred you around puddles.
Translations:
ammamah: grandma
kurta: a loose collarless shirt or tunic worn in many regions of South Asia
Vel: is a divine javelin or spear associated with Murugan, the Hindu god of war.
Saree: a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent,that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a stole (shawl), sometimes baring a part of the midriff
Tagging: @mintpurplemnm @pakhiya
#moon knight#steven grant#steven grant one shot#steven grant drabble#drabble#steven grant x reader#steven grant imagines#steven grant fluff#steven grant my beloved#steven grant fanfiction#steven grant x you#steven grant moon knight#steven grant x desi reader#steven grant x desi!reader#marc spector#jake lockley#moon knight fluff#marvel moon knight#oisaacedit#oisaac#oscar isaac#moon knight headcanons#marvels moon knight#mcu moon knight#moon knight fic#moon knight x desi!reader
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Pink Stripes
Jake rolls his eyes. “I need to come over.”
“Is that how you talk to your hook-ups? Cause if so, I’m still not seeing the appeal.” or Jake Seresin’s upbringing shapes him into the best Navy pilot there is and also the best dad ever.
i.
There’s something about watching a stiff ceiling fan turn in the middle of a heat wave while it storms outside in July.
The soft “swoosh” the panels make can be mistaken for the subtle breeze outside as the rain taps on the windows relentlessly. The sound is extremely reminiscent of the knock of an annoying younger sibling wanting access to your room; the softness due to their developing muscles and the persistence because they tend to have one-track minds.
Stained glass windows of the Southern Baptist Church hide the dreariness outside but if you had been attending there long enough (which most of its patrons had been; newcomers and visitors were far and few between) the overcast was extremely obvious.
Webster, Texas was the hottest it had ever been and this fact proved evident to sixteen-year-old Jacob Michael Seresin who was sitting in a church pew with slacks that are way too big around his waist and a white button-down that is way too starchy for his liking. The shirt is translucent around his armpits and the small of his back; the wife beater underneath sticking to his skin like a shitty temporary tattoo.
So much for thanking God for the rain and the cooler weather it supposedly brings.
Jake liked to think that he believed in God, that he was a good enough Christian that if he died today he would find himself in the line that got him a seat in Heaven. But he knows that he falls short in comparison to the people who he goes to church with.
He doesn’t read his Bible the way his mother and father had wanted him to. He cursed quite a lot whenever his parents weren’t around. He was an asshole to his sisters more often than not. He gets distracted when he prays before bed; oftentimes floating off into Dreamland before he can say “amen.”
Worst of all, he thinks, is that he can’t stay focused on the sermon to save his life.
His MeeMaw always used to tell him that his mind was fast; that he was always thinking so much and so quickly that it was almost impossible for everyone else around him to keep up. So when his thoughts start to drift off into what he’s going to eat for lunch or what path to run will serve him best as the quarterback on Friday night or even how he can avoid his obnoxious little sisters once he returns home, he lets it slide because, after all, he does have Meemaw’s blessing.
Right?
His grandfather, the Pastor of the small church that his family had been attending since before he was born, reads off a verse from the Book of Philemon and Jake studies the people around him.
He sees Miss Mary Lou who is well in her eighties with her church hat on and her little paper fan that supplies a placebo of cool air. She used to sit with him and his sisters in the nursery when they were younger and spoil them rotten with butterscotches and those strange strawberry candies that stores never seemed to sell.
She still lays on her blue eyeshadow thick and her red lipstick even thicker and although it may look cheap and tacky and so grandma-ish to anyone else looking at her, it warms Jake’s heart; good childhood memories brandished in the bow of vacation Bible school and “Jesus Loves Me” sang softly to him whenever he was cradled in her lap. He often pitched fits after his mother would leave him in the nursery (call him a Momma’s boy because it’s simply the truth) and that was the only thing that could calm him down.
He sees Bria Grace McLeod sitting all prim and proper with her perfect blue sundress on and her perfect white cardigan hiding her exposed shoulders. Her perfect blonde hair sits with clear butterfly clips holding up the front two pieces and she looks so angelic, but Jake knows it’s all a facade. Just the night before she was on her knees for him in the corn field that all the teenagers in Webster hung out in.
He was leaning against his truck and she was going to work on his cock; sloppy and amateur as all get out but who was Jake to complain? Bria Grace was a bit of a biter and he was scared that if he commented on it she would bite him intentionally, so he stayed quiet, busted in her mouth, and drove her home.
He sees the way her face softens at the mentions of “living like the world” and how the “world” is littered with sex and homosexuality and abortions. The sensitivity on her face shows Jake that she’s feeling remorseful. Shameful. Dirty, even, for what she had done with him last night.
Jake wants to feel bad for her, wants to push her butter yellow hair back behind her ears and tell her that it’s alright, but he knows that it won’t change anything. He was a horny boy and Bria Grace was a horny girl. She’ll be in his backseat with her legs pushed up to her chest come Friday night. She only feels guilty in the moment, but it’ll cease to exist once church lets out and she gabs with her friends on the landline about who she blew last night.
Guilt.
It’s quite a humorous thing, Jake thinks as his eyes find his father, the assistant Pastor of Webster First Baptist, sitting on the stage behind his grandfather at the pulpit. His suit coat is unbuttoned and fat bullets of sweat stream down his face.
Call it a sixth sense or a superpower or a gift (as MeeMaw liked to call it) but it never took Jake longer than a few seconds to drink someone in and see how they were feeling. And if he had a dollar for every time his dad sat on that church stage and looked guilty as fuck, he would have enough money to shove up the asses of those fuckers who had good ole Texas oil money and never seemed to shut up about it.
Jake always found himself equal parts confused and angry at how hypocritical his father could be. When his dad wasn’t ignoring him and his sisters, he was belittling Jake for coming home late and drinking beer in the cornfields with his friends; telling him how disobedience is a sin and how if he truly gave a fuck about going to the Naval Academy, he wouldn’t put that shit into his body.
And Jake used to always repent and feel guilty. His old man was right, he used to think, until he realized that his dad was nothing more than a cheater who was routinely moaning the name of his eldest daughter’s nineteen-year-old roommate behind his children’s mother’s back.
How drinking underage was a sin but adultery was fair game never seemed to sit right with Jake, but he chalks it all down to the fact that he’s no Aristotle or God or whatever the hell is more powerful than God. He just figures that if his dad were as much of a Godly man as he claimed to be, he would know that wrong is wrong no matter what.
Jake Seresin doesn’t claim to be a righteous Christian, but fucking your daughter’s barely legal friend unbeknownst to your wife has got to get you extra hell points than underage drinking with your friends, he would assume.
He doesn’t quite know for sure, though.
God is funny like that sometimes.
The choir director sitting beside Jake and his family catches his gaze and sends the boy a tight-lipped smile. Jake doesn’t return it; just sends daggers his way before moving his eyes elsewhere. He tended to do that a lot, nowadays. His eyes often swam in the ocean of his surroundings only to be met with nothing than dryer than dry Webster, Texas. At least with the pouring rain around him, he can pretend like the town he resides in isn’t a shitty mock-up of the movie Holes.
Jake feels his mother pinch his side subtly. The almond shape of her maroon-colored fingernails paints a stark contrast to the shiny gold of his grandmother’s pearl ring perched on her pointer finger. He tries to ignore the wedding band that shines brightly even in the dreariness of the church. He doesn’t need reminders of his father’s infidelity.
“Your daddy wouldn’t be happy that you’re noddin’ off during church, Jakey,” she whispers in a sweet tone. Her mouth barely opens and she remains looking straight ahead at his grandpa with her Bible in her lap and a tissue clutched in her other hand.
Jake freezes; his breath catching in his throat and his mouth going numb like it does when he’s had one too many shots. If his mom told his dad that he wasn’t paying attention in church today, he would surely be in for an earful of hurtful words later.
He likes to pretend that he’s big and bad and that words don’t hurt but he’s come to realize a long time ago that he internalizes everything; every utterance, every look, every vocal fry embedded in his book of ways to make himself less of a nuisance. It’s a survival guide to help him not look like an idiot, and even though he’s the coolest guy in school, can have any girl he wants, and isn’t too bad on the eyes (It’s cocky to think that, but from the way he hears his sisters’ friends giggling down the hall from his room, he knows it’s true), his father’s approval is the only thing he truly cares about.
He can never put it into words; can never explain how he hates his dad so much but wants to please him so badly.
Dads are supposed to care. Dads are supposed to love you unconditionally. Dads are supposed to have a hard time showing emotion and that they care, but somehow will always have your back.
And despite that being what the norm is and wishing for it while blowing out his candles on his cake every birthday up until this past year, his dad always made him feel small. Inadequate. Hard to be around. Downright un-fucking-lovable.
Reverend John Marshall Seresin is a hometown hero; the town’s golden boy before he went off to the Naval Academy like his father and his grandfather and generations upon generations of Seresin men before him. He was a carbon copy of his father, Marshall John, and Marshall was a carbon copy of his father, John Michael.
And with faces that told the story of a legacy crafted decades and decades before Jake was even thought of (he’s not even sure he can even begin to fathom how many years of difference are between his great great great grandfather and he) invited the pressure.
All Seresins were Texas born and raised with Navy blood running rampant through their veins. Jake’s father (and grandfather, and great grandfather, and great great grandfather, and every other son of a bitch who shared the same last name as him) was the star quarterback of Webster High turned Naval Academy graduate turned Rear Admiral turned Southern Baptist Preacher.
Jake’s just not so sure that “turned cheating low-life who steps out on his wife and four kids to play House with his daughter’s college roommate” is a life achievement that everyone in his family shared as well.
The cheating was something that Jake found out by accident; sneaking in hours after his curfew and walking by his dad’s shed on the way to crawl into his bedroom window with shrieks and moans from a voice that was certainly not his mom’s. And he tried to ignore it; tried not to let the idea that his dad may or may not have cheated on his mom escape his mind but he kept finding himself in the same situation every Friday evening when he was sneaking back in from getting lucky in the cornfield with his hookup for the night.
He pieced together that the mistress was his sister’s college roommate (Natalie, he thinks her name is) during Christmas break a few months ago; the hickies she had on her neck were concealed to the untrained eye but noticeable to someone looking for clues. Her voice matched the one he had heard screaming in the shed for weeks and her frame matched what would have fit into the baby blue bra he had found stuffed in his dad’s toolbox.
The realization had made him physically ill. Fuck them for making him miss out on MeeMaw’s Christmas ham.
The worst part wasn’t the fact that his dad was a cheater or that his mom was oblivious. The worst part for Jake was knowing that he was the only one who knew, and as much as he liked to hold things over people’s heads or revel in the fact that he knew a secret that no one else was even slightly aware of and the burden weighs heavy in his chest.
How long does he let it fester? How would he even go about telling his mom? Would she even believe him? Would his father skin him alive if he knew that his son knew everything about his affair? If his parents divorced, where would that leave his sisters? Him, even?
The questions filled his mind like a twelve-foot pool, yet every time he thinks he has an answer, he’s diving into the shallow end and screwing himself over. He guesses his theoretical spinal injury is significantly better than all the drama that would ensue from the word about his father’s extramarital affair.
If he could just keep it buried long enough, he would be fine.
That’s how Seresins stayed afloat.
That’s how all of Webster stayed afloat if he’s being honest. You let bygones be bygones and hope to God no one knows.
But you know that you’ll be talked about ruthlessly by those sweet, old Southern ladies during their Wednesday night Bible studies because they tend to gossip and scheme and come up with scenarios that aren’t too far off from the truth.
And they’ll call their kids and tell them and then said kids who are on the PTA make it school-wide gossip and before you know it, you’re the talk of the town in every hairdresser, barber shop, grocery convenience store, and small prayer group within a fifteen-mile radius, but it’s not like anyone really cares.
Except they do.
And they’re judgmental.
And even though the downfall of his family hasn’t happened yet and if it did, it would be no one’s fault but his father’s, Jake doesn’t know if he could handle the aftermath.
He knows he’s not ready to tuck his mom into bed after she cried so hard she blacked out. He knows he’s not ready to put every guy his little sisters bring home under the microscope with the prayer that they’ll be nothing like their shitty, cheating dad. He certainly isn’t ready for the freezer full of casseroles and the hushed whispers paired with the “bless their hearts” as he and his family walk by a group of women in the grocery store.
The saying is sweet to an outsider, but it says all that Jake needs to know.
“Well, aren’t they shit out of luck?” And he figures that at that point, he wouldn’t be able to do anything but agree. How lucky would he be to have to pick up the pieces of his parents’ messy divorce? How lucky would he be to have to scoop his sisters off the floor after being thrown away so carelessly by their sweet daddy who used to do anything for them?
How lucky is he now to know something that no one but God knows, and feel like he has an atomic bomb strapped to his chest?
Jake thinks the only lottery he’ll ever have the pleasure of winning is the shitty hand of cards he’s been dealt by being born a Seresin.
Honor, courage, and commitment; “Go Navy” his ass.
He feels his mother pinch the side of his thigh and a small puff of air signifying her annoyance in his ear. He can see her lips stretch into a thin line at the sight of her son ignoring her earlier request.
Jake’s for sure in some deep shit with his father later. There’s no way his mom is going to let this slide. He can already envision his father’s glare from the rearview mirror on the way home from church; his dad’s ears bright pink from both the humidity outside and the pure rage that Jake seems to strike in him.
His dad wouldn’t start yelling at him until he turned down the dirt road near Prickett Street where there were only longhorns, wheat, and longhorn shit for miles. Just miles upon miles of nothing; not even golden rod-colored paint marking the road for two lanes of traffic.
John Marshall never liked for people to see him in any way that could be construed as negative. His dark side was a secret that was meant to be kept within the confines of their home (and his Chevy Tahoe, apparently). Jake’s scoldings often occurred on the drive home or in the sanctuary of his dad’s tool shed outside; outbursts of anger followed by apathy.
His dad would damn near shun him after he finished giving him a stern talking to. The lack of attention, the lack of feeling like his dad even gives a shit that he has a son that wants to be loved and accepted by him; still makes Jake’s eyes water despite losing the ability to cry over his dad’s treatment years ago.
There’s just something about a black hole of a heart that comes to mind when he cries; especially the skin-melting pain that was felt to rip a hole in the fabric of the universe (which in this case, is Jake Seresin’s heart).
The lump in his throat makes him feel small again even though he stands six feet even and is the same height as his dad. It transports him back to the more than unfavorable moments in his life and his world is blacked out by flashbacks of his father’s disappointment.
He’s six and being given the silent treatment after his first flag football game for not running the ball to the end zone. He’s ten and his dad lays into him about striking out during his travel baseball game despite hitting two home runs in the last three innings.
He’s twelve and being told that he’s stupid; that he won’t amount to anything if he tried, and that he “Should’ve been a girl if you were gonna be this goddamn useless!”
Now he’s sixteen, sitting on the fear of being berated on the ride home later and trying to keep it all together.
“And all of God’s people said.”
“Amen!”
The rush of people getting up to go to the back of the church can be heard and despite his entire family getting up, Jake remains frozen in place. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. His mind is moving faster than his body.
MeeMaw waltzes past him. She puts her bony hand on his shoulder and squeezes it.
“It’s okay to not want to get your hair wet, baby. Know you Seresin men spend so much time on it,” she teases, smile grazing her sunken in features and church hat perfectly placed on her head.
Jake offers her a small chuckle, the apples of his cheeks rising and falling. “Is this the nice way of calling me conceited?” he asks, voice small but a teasing edge to it.
MeeMaw laughs before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Her magenta lipstick is sure to leave a print on his face until he can use some of his sister’s makeup remover later.
“No, it’s the Southern way of sayin’ it. Now, come help your MeeMaw to the car before I say something unkind to MaryLou about her eyeshadow.”
Jake takes his grandma’s arm and catches his father’s gaze in passing before quickly averting his eyes elsewhere. His confidence dwindles significantly when he’s aware of his father’s presence.
The fifteen-minute drive from the church to his home is always uneventful unless he was getting screamed, at which he’s sure is happening at some point.
He takes his seat between his two little sisters. If Anna Caroline was here, she would bully the youngest two to squeeze in the middle so she and Jake could have the two window seats. Being the oldest and the oldest sister seemed to always get you what you want.
But with AC moving to college this past year and leaving him alone with two girls who could barely even be considered teenagers, Jake is outnumbered. Arguing with his little sisters is another losing battle he has to face regularly, and Jake thinks his time is better spent keeping his mouth shut rather than getting into screaming matches with people who had to look up at him to make eye contact.
Sitting in the middle seat was torture though because Jake had a front row seat to his father’s eyes through the rearview mirror. Jake’s father is equally as introspective and knit-picky as his son. Jake’s entire personality is built around walking on eggshells around his dad.
He wonders if in another life he would be less of an ass but quickly dismisses the thought. It’s hard to believe that his father can be nice to him written anywhere in his psyche; even a make-believe one.
His mother sits with a scowl on her face. She’s made it clear that she’s upset with his father because he forgot to shut their bedroom window this morning like she had asked. There’s no way that with the storm being as harsh as it is that the carpet near the window is anything synonymous to dry. She also is pretty annoyed at Jake for not listening earlier and nodding off during the sermon.
His mother usually handled him with grace. She knows her husband can be a lot and Jake is a momma’s boy to the max. But she does keep him in check and she’s not afraid to let his father deal with him if she has to.
What she doesn’t know is how awful his father truly treats him.
Jake will never say anything and his father sure as hell would never tell on himself. How he’s treated is their dirty little secret.
“Your son wasn’t paying attention to the message today,” his mother speaks and Jake’s shoulders tighten at the sound of her voice.
His dad has his right hand on the steering wheel and his left fiddling with the toothpick sticking out of the side of his teeth. “Hmm,” is all he says. His mom runs her fingers through her bleach blonde hair and she sighs.
Her annoyance is obvious and he knows that she’ll go to their room and take a nap before they’re due back at the church for the evening service. “Are you even listening to me?” she whispers, turning her body to be closer to the passenger side door.
His father shifts his stance, his right hand abandoning the wheel and resting on his mother’s thigh. “When have I ever ignored you, honey?”
Jake has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He has to withhold a gag when his dad brings his mom’s knuckles up to his hand and kisses them. The only reason why the younger Seresin’s eyeballs aren’t looking at the tops of his occipital bones right now is the fact that his dad could see him. He doesn’t want to take the chance of his dad coming unglued on him.
All he can think about is how those lips were on another person; another woman (if a nineteen-year-old could even be considered that, of course) feeling the same facial feature in places way less holy and pure as his mom’s hands.
He can hear the grunts and can see the subtle shaking of the tool shed in the backyard; the light beaming a soft yellow from some of the small holes in the wood and the indigo sky swallowing it like an abyss.
Jake’s had his fair share of shitty feelings and, of course, evoking those shitty feelings onto other people but he knows for a fact that he could never live like this; the sneaking around and the lying. The crazed caution and the heavyweight in his chest of knowing that what he’s doing is wrong. Jake knows he’s a sinner, but he could never be a sinner like his father. And if he ever finds it within his poor, damaged, and disgusting soul to cheat on his wife one day?
He’ll knock on hell’s door his damn self.
Jake clenches his fists at his sides and grinds his teeth. He figures the best way to keep from violently outbursting and confessing his father’s sins for him is to tune out his surroundings.
He focuses on the environment around him; how the pleather of the car seat feels against his church slacks, how his little sister’s elbow pokes into his ribs despite having all the room in the world near the window seat she so ruthlessly stripped him of. He focuses on the sound of small gravel stones being kicked up from the wheels of the car and flung to the side of the road.
He thinks back to a time when this wasn’t his life; where he wasn’t the crypt keeper of secrets and things were fine and dandy and he didn’t have to worry about slouching or winning the football game or studying his ass off for his ASVAB and ACT so he could get into the Academy. He thinks back to when he was a kid and the harsh reality of life was banned from infiltrating his perfect bubble filled with Arthur reruns and lukewarm apple juice.
Sunday afternoons were his favorite when he was little. His siblings would scatter around their house finding things to do and doing as they pleased. His parents would always take a nap; his mom on top of the duvet in their bedroom and curled up with a throw blanket and their dad passed out in the recliner, their family dog Chaps sitting at his feet and soft snores coming from both of them.
He and AC would terrorize their little sisters; chasing them around outside with bugs and frogs in their hands. Sometimes when he wasn’t feeling like being a God-awful older brother he would bring out his baseball and play catch with them. He even taught them how to play Chess and Go-Fish. On the rare occasion when they begged hard enough, he would find himself in a ridiculous church hat of his MeeMaw’s that she “donated” to her granddaughters to play dress-up in, pinkie up and sipping imaginary tea on a small, pastel pink stool.
Now Sunday afternoons give him the shakes. He knows that he has about fifteen minutes to hop in his truck and leave the house before his father came to find him and work his nerves. His brain doesn’t even process that his dad has pulled into the driveway of their home until his little sister, Maggie, closes the car door a little too hard.
“God, almighty,” his mother sighs, shaking her head at her daughter’s roughness.
The family treks inside and goes their separate ways. The creaky floorboards signify the movement in different spots in the house and Jake bolts to his room; taking off his church clothes at lightning speed and throwing on a sweatshirt and some shorts. He damn near breaks his neck running to the shoe rack by the front door with his keys in his hand before he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Most people get that goose-pimpled feeling whenever they’re nervous or chilled beyond belief. Jake seemed to always get that feeling around his father; when it was just Jake, him, and God with no bystanders.
The unthinkable always had a propensity to happen in settings like these.
“Need you to come out back to the shed with me, son.”
Jake pushes his foot into his Nike. He feels frozen.
“You not gonna say anything?” his father chides, loosening his tie and crumpling the object in his hand. Jake’s father meant business and he’s extremely curious to know what his deal is with him now.
“Yes, sir,” Jake manages to speak and he hears the light tap of his father’s church shoes getting smaller and smaller as the distance between them widens.
Jake pushes himself off of the floor, heart heavy with nerves and stomach tied in knots tighter than any Cub Scout leader could bear to manage. His feet feel like they’ve been forced into slabs of concrete as he grabs his rain jacket and heads to the Pandora's Box of secrets; his dad’s tool shed.
His father is already in the back, the lightbulb sticking out of the ceiling lit and casting a golden hue across the small building. Jake can’t hear himself think. Moments like these, ones where it’s just him and his dad, send him into flight mode.
His father stands with a tarnished yellow cloth in his hand; wiping down some part that was supposed to be put in MeeMaw’s car later this week.
“Shut the door,” his father says, not once acknowledging Jake in the mere thirty seconds he had been standing in front of him.
Jake nods and grips the handle of the shed with shaky hands. His mind is screaming at him to run and scolding him for not telling his mother he was going out back with his dad. He had noticed whenever he made a point to let his mother know where he was when he was to be alone with his dad that his father wasn’t nearly as harsh as he usually was.
The silence is ominous; harrowing in the worst way possible. Jake almost has the nerve to speak up and ask what the hell his dad needed him here for, but alas, his mouth is dryer than dry and his words get caught in his throat.
This can’t be good. This can’t be good. This cannot be good at all.
The frenzy of thoughts his mind sends him into is cut short by the slam of metal on the janky table that homes all of his father’s tools and “Honey, do” projects.
“You wanna tell me why David McLeod is runnin’ round my fuckin’ church? Knockin’ on my goddamn door sayin’ that he caught my son bending his sweet daughter over in their front yard two nights ago?” his father’s voice booms.
And there it is.
Jake bites his lip to keep from laughing. His dad has quite the nerve when two nights ago, he caught him screwing AC’s roommate’s brains out. Who the hell is he to be screaming at him for enjoying himself?
Jake shakes his head and continues to bite his lip; his eyebrows pent upwards to withhold the smart allecky comment he has brewing in his mouth.
“You not gonna say anything, kid?” his father throws down the rag and stomps closer to his son, “I’m fucking talking to you!”
Jake swallows before he lets his comment loose. He knows he shouldn’t; knows that disobeying your parents and talking back is a violation of the Ten Commandments or whatever (Baptist Christians are batshit crazy, he’s determined a long time ago). He knows he shouldn’t, but he does.
“Just think it’s funny you keep saying your church when it’s Papaw’s.”
John Marshall Seresin, does in fact, hate that answer.
“Listen here and listen fucking good, kid,” his father spits, grabbing the shirt of his collar and pushing him up against the door. “You better not go ‘round here fucking that girl and lettin’ her daddy catch ya. They’re a bunch of low lives anyway.”
The way his father is so easily ready to demean someone else; to talk down on them as if they amount to nothing yet be a smiling plastic figure in their faces come Sunday morning strikes a match in the flame that resides in Jake’s stomach.
Jake shakes his head, a sarcastic laugh sitting on his lips and falling off his lips faster than he can register.
“What’s so fuckin’ funny, Jakey?” his father sneers.
And Jake knows that he should stop. He knows that speaking his mind isn’t the brightest idea he’s had. But Jake chalks it all down to the fact that he’s smart. Wise is something that he never claimed to be.
“It’s just hilarious that you’re calling them low lives for what?” he pushes his father off of him before backing his old man into a corner, “Because they’re poor? Because they’re not “Navy” bred? David is a piece of work, but at least he’s not fucking his daughter’s friend.”
John Marshall’s eyes widen the size of a full moon at his son’s admission of knowledge. He knew that someone had noticed and he had figured it was a matter of time until one of his children (preferably any of his children that weren’t Jake) would find out.
“You don’t know jack shit, young man,” his father demands, face as bright red as the tomatoes in his mother’s garden.
Jake is beyond terrified. He knows that he’s in for some deep shit and that his father’s words will cut deep. Despite his brain screaming at him to diffuse the situation, to walk with his tail between his legs and carry on as if nothing happened, he ignores it.
Above all else, he’s angry. He’s angry that he lets his father talk to him the way that he does. He’s angry that his father gets a free pass to act however he wants with no one there to check him. He’s angry that his father will inevitably tear the family apart that Jake’s spent the better half of fifteen years attempting to keep together.
So he doesn’t bite his tongue this time around. He doesn’t shy away from being the true smart-ass everyone in Webster knew him as. He rolls his shoulders back and clenches his fists at his sides.
“What I do know is that this is awful and mom doesn’t deserve that,” he calmly speaks. He braces himself for his father’s touch bulldozing him through the wall or a punch to the gut. Jake’s dad very rarely put his hands on his son, but on the handful of occasions that he had, Jake always walked away with some kind of bruise that his mother would pester him about until it healed.
The push or smack or punch doesn’t come and Jake almost relaxes before he jumps out of his skin at the sound of his father’s hands slamming on the metal table.
“You’re just fucking stupid, aren’t ya?” His dad shakes his head and laughs, a deep chuckle coming from his belly as if Jake had just told him the funniest goddamn joke in the entire world.
“Stupid enough to nod off during church. Stupid enough to fuck that no-good tramp. Wonder if you’re stupid enough to ruin your mama’s life, son,” he gripes. “If I go down, so does this whole family.”
And Jake thinks that his father is wrong about a lot of things, but he has to give him credit where it’s due. The revelation would tear his family to absolute shreds. MeeMaw and Papaw would be judged for raising such an awful son. His mother would be laughed at behind her back with the embarrassment hanging over her like a raincloud. “How could she not have known?” being thrown around every hairdresser and nail salon in the area. AC would lose her mind, he’s sure. He can’t even be somewhat delusional with himself and think that she wouldn’t do anything slight of going fucking bananas.
“But it’s your move, Ace. If I were you, I’d keep quiet. Especially if you want a shot of getting out of this hellhole like you told Bria Grace.” His dad fixes the tools haphazardly on the table; trying to make it look as uniform as possible; as perfect as possible. Just like his family on the outside.
His father walks to the door before stopping and turning to his son whose blond hair looks white in comparison to how pink his face is. “That bitch ain’t as good of a secret keeper as you thought she was. How the hell do you think David found out?”
The door slams before Jake can even react and for the millionth time in his life, Jake feels small. All he can manage to do is hold his cries in until he starts to hiccup and the flow of his tears streaming down his face match the rainfall gracing dryer than dry Webster, Texas.
So much for thanking God for the rain and the blessings it was supposed to bring.
ii.
Today is Jacob Seresin’s eighteenth birthday.
Although he thoroughly believed that birthday wishes were a scam and that people treating you slightly better on your “special day” was bullshit, some part of him still enjoyed the fact that it was his birthday every year.
He can’t decide if it’s the overwhelming amount of love his mom and sisters gift him on the morning of his birthday or if it’s because he’s one year closer to distancing himself from his father’s wrath.
And as Jake’s alarm clock sounds and he’s formally shaken awake by his mom and sisters busting open his door, his heart aches for moments like these that he’ll miss once he moves out of the house.
There’s just something about waking up on the morning of your birthday at home and having happy birthday sang to you before you can even blink the sleep out of your eyes. The small moments like these make his life not so much of a living hell and he can almost gaslight himself into not wanting to go so far away; to defer his acceptance into the Naval Academy and to stay at home for another year.
His mom would always make her infamous banana walnut pancakes and pair it with an awful rendition of “Happy Birthday.” She would joke that God didn’t bless her with good vocal cords but did bless her with good cooking. And with one bite of her pancakes, Jake decides why he loves his birthday.
Simply just because of his mom’s banana pancakes.
He loved the cards his sisters would hand make him every year too. They would corral his bed and wait with their eyes wide open as if they hadn’t been born with eyelids to see how he reacted to their cards. AC’s always having some cartoonish drawing of him that was slightly offensive and Maggie and Rosie are always having words misspelled in a stew of comically large vowels and consonants.
He can never figure out if they actually enjoy making him cards or if it’s some sick, twisted, girlish game that they play to determine which card he likes the most that year.
Jake almost is a good brother and plays into it, before he decides that his job as a brother is to be annoying, and dutifully says that he loves them all equally even though they all know (him included) that he’s lying straight through his teeth.
If he had to pick, he would always pick AC (though he does admit, Rosie has been giving her a run for her money as of late).
And because of these festivities and because of the unconditional love his mom and sisters give him, he almost would be content staying in Webster for the rest of his life.
He dreams of having a big house with a big dog and a big yard and a wrap-around porch down the street from his parents’ house. He dreams of Saturday night football being watched with his pretty wife and his precious babies and then those precious babies growing up and making him a grandpa and he and his wife growing old.
The fantasy he creates in his head is almost perfect and he almost considers it until he waltzes into his kitchen to find his dad reading the paper in his pajamas with a solemn silence surrounding him like a plague.
And it’s then that Jake realizes why he longed for this day since he was eleven and why the only college he applied to out of state was the Academy.
He tries to tiptoe around his dad like an utter dumbass and he knows that he isn’t tiny or quiet in the slightest and when his plate and fork clatter in the sink louder than he anticipated, he’s met with the quick rustle of newspaper and the sunken in green eyes of his father peering back into his identical ones.
His dad clears his throat before taking a sip of his coffee. Jake wonders if his dad is stalling if he was planning on avoiding his son just as he was planning on avoiding his dad today.
“Anna Caroline is coming in tonight for your birthday dinner,” his father speaks barely above a whisper.
Jake nods before turning on his heel to head back upstairs to get ready for school. “Noted, sir. Thank you.”
His father offers a straight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to the paper. The creaks that shadow Jake’s movement toward the stairs seem louder than any fighter jet or rock concert even though they could barely be heard between Maggie and Rosie’s arguing and Chaps’s barking.
“Happy eighteenth, Ace,” his father manages to say before dumping the rest of his coffee in the sink and resorting back to the master bedroom to get ready for the day.
Jake just nods and feels an eerie sense of calm run up his arms. He just had a feeling; something in his gut telling him that something wasn’t right, that something really, really bad was set to happen but he boils it down to the Calculus test he had later today during fourth period.
Only girls got gut feelings, he remembered AC saying to him once. So he shrugs and heads up to his room before hopping in his truck to make the ten-minute drive up the road to stroll into Webster High School.
Jake can’t shake that eerie feeling all day. It makes it hard to eat, to think, even to write. His hand shook horribly whenever he went to write the sign for a derivative during his math test and he erased the goddamn thing at least five times until he was sure one more fuck up would leave a hole in his paper.
He ends up leaving the question blank. He has a ninety-seven percent in the class and already got into all the colleges he applied to anyway. It’s not like a measly three points is going to be the end of the world for him.
Jake still feels the knots in his stomach as he hops into his truck to drive home after football practice and no matter what he does, he can’t exactly put his finger on what would make him feel like this. He almost has half the mind to whip out his cell phone and call AC to talk about it, but he knows that she’ll go into older sister mode once she hears any slight indication that he’s in the car and will go off about texting and driving and how immature her brother is even being eighteen years old today.
He can practically see her caramel brown hair pulled up in a ponytail and a summer dress on her body while she shouts at him through the phone about any and every grievance she has ever had with him because once Anna Caroline gets started, she never stops. People who think that Jake is a firecracker have never been in the same room as AC because she was a goddamn nuclear bomb compared to him.
He grins when he sees her white Jeep Cherokee in the gravel of their driveway with a sorority sticker embellishing the back window.
Jake damn near sprints into the house to hug his older sister before he stops cold in his tracks and sees her.
Anna Caroline brought her roommate home to celebrate Jake’s eighteenth birthday with his family, and it’s then when he determines that life could not fuck him forwards, backward, upside down, and right side up more than it currently is with his dad subtly trying to eye her tits and Jake trying to bite his tongue.
The freckled, teeny, tiny strawberry blonde who was the owner of the light blue B cup bra Jake had found in his dad’s toolbox and probably the owner of a magenta thong he had found tucked in the driver’s pocket of his dad’s car a few weeks ago.
And as she waves to Jake and gives him a slight hug and an even slighter, “Happy birthday,” attached to it, Jake decides that the girl is pretty. She’s certainly not a stranger as she’s been to the Seresin home a multitude of times since rooming with Anna Caroline freshman year of college. She’s sweet, friendly, and a tried and true friend of his sister’s. In another world, Jake thinks she would be his type, but only if that other world is one where she’s not fucking his married fifty-five-year-old father behind his eldest sister’s back.
“Jakey!” Anna Caroline hollers, running towards her younger brother and wrapping her arms around his neck like a boa constrictor. Jake swears she does this shit on purpose; playing “nice” but torturing him so secretly that he could never say anything without being called a drama queen.
He chuckles before forcibly unclasping her hands from cutting off his breathing. “Don’t choke me out. I’ll punch you in your throat if you do.”
His mother gasps and hits his shoulder with a dishtowel. “Jacob Michael! That is no way to talk to a woman.”
Jake and AC share a conniving grin before his dad clears his throat and starts his journey toward the dinner table. The soft squeak of the wooden oak chair sliding across the floor signifies that his father was ready to eat, which means everyone should be ready to eat.
The awkward silence fills the gap of what should be a happy birthday; a day spent celebrating Jake and his last year at home and stories of his growing up to this point in his life. But it’s far from being about Jake at all, he realizes, as he catches his father’s gaze; his sea glass eyes throwing the stone in to the river of possibilities that Jake very much could blow the roof off of his house of secrets.
After his father blesses the food, a regal quietness plagues the table; the sounds of forks and knives on his mom’s good Chinaware mixed in with the quiet giggles of Rosie and Maggie and the eyes of Natalie who looks like she’s about to throw up at any second.
And Jake wants to turn his brain off, wants to rid himself of that stupid skill he has of reading people like a goddamn People magazine headline, but he can’t.
All it takes is one look and Jake sees in her what he sees in his dad every Sunday sitting behind his grandfather on the stage.
Guilt.
And if this was on one of those shitty sitcoms his sisters liked to watch on Wednesday nights after church and in between homework time and bedtime, he would almost laugh and plead with someone to change the channel.
But it isn’t an episode of Gilmore Girls or One Tree Hill, and he can’t even fool himself to pretend like it is. The ten-pound heap of bricks of his father’s infidelity sits on his chest and ruins the ability for him to even imagine that completely.
Jake is lost in his train of thought as he mindlessly chews on his steak before his arm is haphazardly knocked off the table by AC. His fork clatters on the ground and she sends him a shit-eating grin; one that older sisters only have the capability of sending with just the right amount of childishness but also holding an heir of authority. She holds in her giggle before answering their mother about her boyfriend she has back at A&M and Jake is sent shaking his head before lowering himself beneath the table cloth to retrieve his utensil.
Although being tall was something that most certainly worked in his favor more often than not, Jake wishes his height didn’t make small things like this so difficult. He holds in a grunt as he gets down on the floor beneath the tablecloth and stretches as far as he can go to retrieve the fork that falls in between the chairs of his father and Natalie.
His eyes catch the slight glimmer of his dad’s wedding ring and he can see his father’s hand rubbing Natalie’s bare knee. He sees his dad’s hand slide farther and farther up Natalie’s leg and Jake feels his face getting hot; the weight of the secret he had been keeping for two years now choking him.
His head catches on the table with a loud thud and the dishes and silverware clank as a result. His mother gasps and his sisters laugh as he rubs his temple harshly, his fork gripped in his palm like a vice.
“Came out screamin’ and you’re still making a ruckus. What am I gonna do without you here next year?” his mom comments, her manicured fingers coming across the table to pinch his cheeks like how she used to when he was little.
“Jump for joy and pray he never comes back,” Anna Caroline remarks, purposefully biting her fork and letting the metal scrape her teeth. She knows the sound grinds Jake’s gears like no other.
“You know, there was a time when you weren’t a bitch,” he says quietly, hoping that his mother and father don’t hear the curse word slip from his lips. As far as they’re concerned, he’s never smoked, drank, cursed, or had sex before in his life.
His father straightens in his seat, his hand still hidden underneath the blue gingham table cloth covering the dinner table. He shoots his son a knowing look; one that has “Watch your mouth” written all over it.
He cowers in his seat and tries to cover his uneasiness with a cough.
The table falls silent once again before his father decides to perk up and start a conversation.
But the problem with that is that no conversation is ever truly a conversation with John Marshall. Every speaking point somehow turned into a lecture or a gloat or some kind of pointed remark that made you feel small inside, and Jake’s not sure how he got through the Naval Academy with an attitude like that or how he was so well-liked, but for some reason, he always made it work.
“You ready for this week’s game, Ace?” he asks and Jake’s face pales because he knows that he’s soon to be met with confrontation.
The pause before his answer is pregnant and as he opens his mouth to say something, his dad beats him to fill the air with his voice.
“You and this delayed speech. Would think I was raisin’ a Helen Keller the way you go about ignoring adults.”
Jake was told that he was a very calm and mellow baby and despite his asshole-ish nature that’s developed alongside his God complex the older he’s gotten, it still remains somewhat true. And he knows that what his father said wasn’t even the worst of things that have ever been said to him and he knows that he has no right to blow the lid off Webster, Texas’s new cover story (especially at his eighteenth birthday dinner over steak and potatoes), but something in Jake snaps.
He thinks about not saying what he’s about to say; about not breaking the dam of tears that will flood his house, but he ignores the caution sign anyway and forces the comment out of his throat instead.
“Yeah, well, at least you ain’t raisin’ a cheater.”
He can see AC raise her brows at him in a “what the fuck” manner. His dad chokes on his water before clearing his throat. He sends his son an aggravated look before sighing and rubbing his temples with his hands. Natalie looks pale completely; her hazel eyes wide with guilt and fear as if she had seen God himself in front of her and turning her away from Heaven.
His mother purses her lips before clutching her napkin in her hands. “What do you mean by that, Jakey?”
And Jake really should stop. He knows that this is unfair. He knows that he’s being unreasonable. He knows that this will be the end, but he can’t bring himself to give any less of a fuck than he does right at this second.
“Oh, you know. Just think it’s nice to know that you and your husband aren’t raising a guy who cheats on his wife and fucks his daughter’s roommate every Friday night, is all.”
The silence around them crafts a bubble of disbelief.
No one dares to say anything. No one dares to move. No one attempts to look anyone else in the eye.
The world has officially stopped turning.
The tears in his mother’s eyes freeze and create an ocean in her sockets. She sniffles before sliding her chair back and escaping quietly to the back bedroom. The door slams shut and click with a lock before Jake is really aware of what he had done.
Natalie runs to the nearest bathroom, the sound of her retching into the toilet echoing through the house like a tornado siren.
His dad kicks the kitchen table and he and his siblings jump at his action. His face is bright red and the veins encasing his temples bulge out like a warning.
“Good job, Ace,” he says, patting his son's shoulder with the force of an anchor before grabbing his keys and speeding off from their driveway to God knows where.
His youngest sisters sit at the table shocked; not quite old enough to understand what Jake was implying with his words but knowing that whatever just occurred in front of them at their dining table was bad. AC shakes as she gets up to usher them to their room.
One look at her pink ears and the hairs at the base of her neck sticking to her skin with angry perspiration makes Jake wish he could take it back; that he could hold the secret in for a few more years until it eventually came out. But what’s done is done, and he can’t even really believe the avalanche of what he had done with just a compound statement.
He sits at the table in disbelief for what feels like hours before Anna Caroline rounds about the corner and places her hands on the chair furthest away from him. Her head is bowed as she sniffles, gray mascara tears running down her face and stopping at her chin.
“Do you have any fucking clue what you just did?” she asks weakly, her voice nasally with sadness and betrayal.
Jake shakes his head slightly. He’s never been good at being guilty. “It just came out.”
Anna Caroline whips her head up, her face back to bright pink and her eyes narrowed as sharp as daggers.
“It just came out? It just came out my ass! You fucking knew for two whole years,” she screams, stepping closer to him to where Jake can feel the blistering heat radiate off of her body, “Two whole fucking years and you didn’t think to tell me about it?”
Now is Jake’s turn to be pissed off. “You weren’t fucking here! You went off to college and got to pretend like you only had a family when you weren’t too hungover to drive home!” His chest heaves up and down and he has to take deep breaths through his nose.
Anna Caroline gets in his face; her anger is reminiscent of their father’s when he was really pissed off. “I know for a goddamn fact that you’re not calling me selfish when this whole fucking episode of yours just imploded our family from the inside out,” she spits, her forehead damn near touching Jake’s, “All you ever seem to fucking do is think about yourself, Jacob.”
Jake pushes himself backward in his chair to create some space between himself and his sister. “Think about my- Anna Caroline, you were the first person I fucking thought of!”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, her nostrils flaring slightly to allow more air into her lungs before she explodes. “Obviously, you didn’t think enough because while you’re away at the Academy this summer, I’m gonna be sitting here in this hellhole with a fucking civil engineering degree playing Mommy Homemaker until our parents’ divorce is finalized.”
Jake opens his mouth to shoot back a charged comment, but he closes it. He’s done enough damage tonight.
“You were “thinking” about me, yeah. You were thinking about how somehow you were gonna make this my problem while you get to do fuck-all in Annapolis,” she accuses.
“Why are you-”
“And did you think about how unfair that was to mom? To Natalie? To our fucking little sisters?” she puts her hands on her hips as she paces back and forth near their kitchen table, “No and you know why? Because Jacob Seresin can’t stand having dirt on someone and not humiliating them for the sake of his own entertainment.”
“AC it’s not even-” he starts, but his sister’s nuclear bomb-like anger beat him to it.
The guilt-ridden expression Jake wears on his face makes Anna Caroline even angrier, as she moves toward him to push him back in his chair.
“Just,” she shoves her finger in his chest, “Like. Dad.” And her palm lands flat on his chest before forcibly pushing him back farther in the oak seat than he had sat before.
The wind is knocked out of his ribcage before he can even process what’s going on. She stomps her way up the staircase before pausing halfway and leaning down to scream at him once more.
“You’re fucking dead to this family, Jacob,” she seethes, “And you’re fucking dead to me.” With that, she turns on her heel and like their mother hours before, slams the door of her childhood bedroom shut.
Today is Jacob Michael Seresin’s eighteenth birthday, and is also the day he tore his family apart.
iii.
Jake Seresin always dreamed of being a dad, but he had never anticipated that he would become a father as instantaneously as he is right now.
Jake is thirty-two years old and is a man who has had sex. A lot of sex, may he add, and being deployed and single as one of the world’s greatest naval aviators was a dangerous setup for him to limit the number of hook-ups he currently had tallied.
There were some pretty great ones that he can recall and even though he was raised by great Southern women and with sisters, he can’t help but fall into the misogynistic trap that is the military every now and again, and he’ll find himself getting into the nitty gritty of who he last fucked with his friends after a couple of straight whiskeys at whichever bar was accessible to them at the time.
And Jake’s not disgusting with it; never says anything demeaning but he’s sure that if the girl he had hooked up with heard how he was describing her flexibility or how she was able to give him some of the best head of his life, he knows her face would be flushed bright red.
Although getting married and having kids is a dream of Jake’s, he thought that for his age and for his status, it was a pipe dream.
That is until one fateful morning a full week and a half before he’s due to report back to Lemoore from sunny San Diego he hears a knock on his door.
Jake gets up off the floor from doing his morning ab workout before he checks the clock on his stove.
“6:21 AM,” it reads.
And although the neighborhood he was staying in was filled to the brim with families that had young children and older people (who had certainly been awake for at least two hours now), he can’t think of anyone he had encountered that would knock on his door at this hour.
He peeps through the peephole to see if he can catch a glimpse of a girl scout or a teenager who happened to accidentally hit his car with their bicycle on the way to school or something, but he’s met with the absence of a person on his front porch.
He figures it must be a package he had forgotten he ordered or a newspaper that was to be delivered to the people next door, but his eyes damn near pop out of his skull once he peels the door open.
There’s a little pink car seat with a baby that couldn’t have been more than five months old; purple nubby binky plunged in between her lips and a pink onesie adorning her slim torso.
This can’t be one of those things; one of those plots to those TV shows where a guy fucks around and gets a girl pregnant and she leaves a baby at his doorstep when he’s least expecting it. He rubs his eyes ferociously with his hands to see if his knuckles would make the kid go away, but as he blinks away the white spots in his vision, the baby is still there.
She blinks up at him with sea glass eyes and a face that looks just like his. Her tan skin and the soft caramel curls tell Jake who the counterpart of his creation would had to have been and his mind instantly flips back to a girl he had been casually seeing at USC a year ago.
Her name was Talia (he thinks) and she was a graduate student who could’ve put any US Olympic gymnast to shame by how goddamn bendy she was, but alas, Jake wasn’t looking for anything serious and the distance between Lemoore and LA proved itself to be too far to keep anything sustainable besides a few quickies every couple of weeks.
And while Jake was always careful and more than cautious with girls he was hooking up with, he can remember taking the riskier side a couple times with this chick which is why he’s looking at a tanned and curly-haired reincarnate of himself sitting in a goddamn baby carrier wondering how the hell she got dropped off at this dumbass’s doorstep and not someone who was capable of actually taking care of a kid.
Beside her is a manila envelope with a brief note from Talia explaining how she couldn’t take care of her anymore, a birth certificate, a social security card, and a shot record.
Jake can’t pretend like he isn’t somewhat surprised that for a girl who isn’t a day over twenty-three, she had all of these things together and was able to track him down and leave before he even noticed.
Jake picks up the car seat and drops it into the doorway of his home before doing what any sensible person would do. He whips out his phone, scrolls through the millions of contacts he has, and starts to dial the kid’s mother.
He almost grins to himself because he’s a genius and is calm, cool, and collected. He rehearses his lines for what he’ll tell her; that he’s about to get stationed somewhere in Florida and that he can’t take care of a baby by himself. He even puts a mental note in the back of his mind to meet with a lawyer about child support and setting that up before the dial tone sounds and all thoughts he has of this possibly working out the way he wants it to ends.
“The number you are calling is no longer in service. Good-bye.”
Oh shit.
And the panic starts to kick in. He starts to pace back and forth before doing something he would’ve never thought to do ever in a million years before a few days prior.
He dials Bradley Bradshaw’s phone number.
“Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up.”
Bradley answers his phone with a slight grunt signifying that he was just now rolling out of bed. “What the hell is it?” he asks, and it’s no secret that despite being called Rooster, Bradley was anything but a morning person.
“Bradshaw, I have an SOS. I repeat, I have a fucking SOS,” Jake says, a sense of urgency plaguing his tone.
Jake can hear bedsheets rustling on the other end of the line. “Jesus, Hangman. What did you do? Do you need bond money or something?”
Jake rolls his eyes. “I need to come over.”
“Is that how you talk to your hook-ups? Cause if so, I’m still not seeing the appeal.”
“Bradshaw, you know that I would take you up on any opportunity to brag about my bangin’ sex life, but right now, I really need your fucking help,” he sighs, fixing his gaze back to the baby sitting in the carrier, “Can I please come over?”
Bradley lets out a pensive sigh before finally giving Jake the answer he wants. “Sure. I’ll see you in ten.”
Before Jake can thank him repeatedly, Bradley hangs up.
At the sound of the dial tone, Jake pulls up a YouTube video on his phone about how to buckle in a car seat and he’s about eighty percent sure he did it wrong and is one hundred percent sure that he has no fucking idea what he’s doing at all, but he’s sliding into the front seat of his truck and racing down the street and around the corner to Bradley Bradshaw’s childhood home.
He slams the door shut and grabs the baby with lightning speed, his fists banging on the door and almost knocking Bradley dead in the nose as he opens it with an irritated grunt.
“Why are you knocking like the goddamn poli-” Bradley pauses, hand still on the door and eyebrows raised in disbelief, “What the fuck is that?”
Jake rolls his eyes before pushing past the sandy-haired pilot and plopping down on his living room couch, the baby carrier taking a seat next to him.
“It’s a baby, Bradshaw,” he rolls his eyes, “God, I thought you were smarter than this.”
Bradley scoffs before closing the door and leaning on the wall in front of his living room. “Well I thought you were smarter than having raw sex with all your random hook-ups, but clearly I’m seeing evidence that you’re not.”
Jake shakes his head and rakes his hands through his hair. ‘That’s so not the poin- I’m screwed here, Bradshaw!”
Bradley lets out a slight laugh that he didn’t know he was holding in. “I mean, yeah. But you came to the right place. I love babies.”
He makes his way over to the blond sitting on his couch and touches the car seat holding the baby and before he can move his hands down to the black plastic securing her chest, Jake slaps his hands away.
“My baby,” he says and Bradley rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, but my house,” he retorts.
“But my baby,” Jake reiterates and a purple binky is spit out and a loud wail fills the space of Rooster’s living room; her little voice so loud that it echoes.
“Jesus, she’s definitely your kid,” Bradley jokes, “Loud as hell and doesn’t have any interest in shutting up just like her dad.”
Jake takes her out of the carrier and cradles her to his chest, his finger holding the silicone pacifier to her lips before she takes it out of his grasp and continues sucking on it.
Bradley watches in awe because in the past three days, he’s seen more character development in Hangman than he has in the past twelve years of knowing him. Bradley and Jake are snapped out of their own respective worlds at the sound of a knock on his door.
“Who the hell did you invite over to my home?” he asks and Jake shrugs.
“Well, I did text a few people about coming over here because I had news.”
Bradley sighs before opening his front door to see the entire Dagger Squad before him and stepping aside to let them in without a greeting.
“What the fuck!” they all yell in unison, and Jake doesn’t even look up because he’s too busy staring into the eyes of a little girl whom he had fallen in love with in only fifteen minutes.
Jake Seresin was certainly not ready to be a dad when he woke up this morning, but he feels more than ready now.
#hangman top gun#hangman#hangman x you#hangman x reader#top gun#top gun maverick#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x you#hangman fanfiction#hangman fanfic#hangman fic#glen powell#gp#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x reader#writes
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Time-Turners and Troubles.
Fluff, Dad!Draco x Mum!fem!Potter!reader
Warnings: Arguing and cringeworthy writing.
Summary : The Malfoy kids accidentally travel in time and watch their parents fall in love with each other.
Y/n - Your name.
Y/h/c- Your hair colour.
Y/e/c - Your eye colour.
Do not plagiarize.
© 2023 lazydreamer19. All rights reserved.
This was inspired from a fic written by @drqcos / @drayslove , this
Hers is with smut and is even better than mine, so please give it a read. She's amazing!
Masterlist
---------------------------------------
"Darling, are you ready yet?" Yelled out the man of the house to his wife as he spritzed on some expensive cologne to his neck.
"Yes,but can you help me put on this necklace first?" Y/n came down to the hall clad in an elegant dress looking every bit like the Queen she is. Draco's jaw fell wide open as she descended down the stairs. She looked even more beautiful day by day and her beauty wasn't fading anytime soon. She's eternally beautiful! Draco thought to himself.
"You don't need a necklace, you already look so beautiful! I mean,you can wear a rag and still look stunning!"
"Oh stop it!" She playfully hit his chest lightly as she hid her face in it while he embraced her. Taking the necklace from her hand,he turned her around and put it on her. Turning her around again to face him, he pressed his lips onto hers and captured her into a passionate kiss.
"Happy Anniversary, Mrs.Malfoy."
"Happy Anniversary to you too Mr.Malfoy." Getting hypnotized in each other's eyes,they got busy kissing each other again, before they even realized it.
"Ewwww,gross!"
Their children, Scorpius and Lyra yelled out loud from the kitchen as soon as they saw their parents lip-locking. Rolling his eyes at them, he went towards the kitchen and picked up the pouty toddler and placed a kiss on her forehead, knowing that she was mad at her Father for kissing her mother.
"Are you happy now?"
"No! Bad Daddy! You kissed mommy befowe me!"
"Sorry Princess, I will get you ice-cream when we come back. Is that okay?"
"Okay Daddy!" She hugged him.
"Scorpius, remember, do not give trouble to Grandma and make sure that Lyra doesn't do the same too, got that?" Y/n instructed him with a concerned tone.
"Yes mum, uhh..Mum?"
"Yes baby?
"When will you both be back?"
"We'll try to return as soon as possible! We promise!"
A knock on the door and Narcissa entered with Lucius trailing behind her. "Happy Anniversary you two! Oh look at the little darlings! How much they have grown up!"
"Mother, you just saw them a month ago." Draco deadpanned, landing a nudge from his wife.
"Thank you so much Narcissa and Lucius for being here! I was so worried when no one was available tonight to babysit them!"
"Hey! I am not a baby!" Scorpius threw a fit.
"No you're not dear. You're a strong man who listens to his elders and respects them, aren't you?" Y/n asked while picking him up in her arms and placing a kiss on his forehead.
"Mhmm, I am."
"Don't worry Y/n, we were just returning from the ministry to submit these items. We weren't able to submit all of them as they were checking each and every item." Narcissa told them.
"Okay,just keep them away from the reach of the kids, it'll cause disaster if they do." Draco warned.
"You don't have to worry about that son, you go and enjoy your dinner." Lucius spoke in a tired and exhausted voice.
"We need to leave now. We'll be back home soon. Listen to your grandparents and don't misbehave."
"Alright,mum."
___________________________________________
"So, have you both had your dinner yet?"
"Yes! And Daddy pwomised us ice-cweam!" Lyra babbled.
"Granny, grandpa ,we want to play hide and seek!" Scorpius urged.
"Okay,but don't hide too far."
"Okay granny! Come on Lyra, let's hide somewhere! Granny, Grandpa, you start counting!"
Taking Lyra's hand, they both paddled out of the kitchen to some corner in the guest room where Narcissa and Lucius sat a few moments ago. Giggling all the way, they crouched underneath the sofas.
"Shhh! Lyra, they will find us out if we don't stay quiet!" He whispered to the still giggling toddler.
"Bubby! Look bag! I want that!" Now, being the apple of her Daddy's eyes, Lyra was spoiled to death,something which wasn't enjoyed by Y/n. Draco spoiled Scorpius too, but with Lyra,he didn't have any limits. Scorpius was more clingy towards his mother. He would cry endlessly when he was of Lyra's age, whenever Y/n was out of his sight or had to leave for her work.
Knowing that if he didn't give Lyra the bag then she would throw a huge tantrum, Scorpius silently got out of his hide-out and grabbed the bag quickly, returning back to where he hid at the speed of light. The bag contained a number of boxes which were locked with Charms and spells.
"Look at this!" Lyra whispered excitedly, as she pulled out a gold chain from a glass box which was not sealed and could be easily opened.
"Lyra, don't touch it! Mum and Dad told us to stay away from touching this bag!" Scorpius was now worried. He tried to pull the chain away from her tiny hands but she was strong enough to not let it go and grimaced when he attempted to.
"No, this is mine!"
"Lyra don't do this!"
Lyra then caught hold of the hourglass pendant ,dangling in the centre of the chain and started playing it. Before Scorpius could stop her from doing so, Lyra had already turned the hourglass quite a number of times. The surroundings around them started to change at a blinding speed. Within seconds the sofa was gone and was replaced by an empty home but that didn't stay for long too as all of a sudden the kids got swapped to somewhere else. Feeling terrified, they both clutched on to each other and shut their eyes tight as they continued screaming and crying at the top of their lungs.
___________________________________________
"Let them hide for sometime, I'll bake some treats for them in the meantime. Why don't you go and play with them?" Narcissa waved her wand to collect all the ingredients for making cupcakes for the two children.
"No, I refuse to partake in childish games and make a fool out of myself. I'd rather read them stories at bedtime."
"What are you going to do till then?"
"I am going to take a nap,I am utterly exhausted. Now,if you will excuse me."
___________________________________________
Finally coming to the realization that the world around them is not spinning anymore, Scorpius pried one eye open . Stony walls of an ancient castle came into his view, they were leaning against a pillar in a forlorn corridor. Lyra was clutching onto his shirt for her dear life and hid her face on it.
"Lyra, look we are safe."
"Bubby,where are we?"
"I don't know, we have to find granny and grandpa."
"I want Daddy! I want Mommy!"
"Shh, I'll get Mommy and Daddy for you, just stay quiet and listen to me."
Tears stained Lyra's rosy cheeks which got Scorpius worried. If Lyra starts a tantrum here,then it will cause a huge ruckus.
Very soon they heard giggles,a very familiar one, one that made Lyra perk up and say "Mommy?"
Two figures entered from a hallway on the left at the end of the pathway. One was a man and the other one was a woman. The man had features, exact to Scorpius'. But, that was funny because Scorpius was the literal younger clone of his Father in terms of his physical appearance. The smiling woman next to him wasn't very hard for Scorpius to identify as his Mother ,being the 'Mama's boy' he was.
Being the Genius he was,and through his extensive time spent with his mother reading books, he quickly realized that the pendant was actually a time-turner and they had traveled back to when their parents were students. He remembered Y/n telling him, when she was in her second year ,about how Aunt Mione had to use it because she had taken all the subjects in that year. The laughter of the two died down as Draco held Y/n's hand gently and looked into her eyes with the same look he always had on his face whenever he saw her even till the present day in which Scorpius and Lyra lived.
"Y/n, look I really enjoyed our date today and….."
"And?"
Draco averted his gaze towards the floor bashfully. His cheeks had turned a bright pink and he was struggling to look into the mesmerizing (Y/e/c)eyes of hers.
"And I have had feelings for you since a very long time……so erm…would you like to be my
girlfriend?"
The shocked look on his mother's face wasn't missed by Scorpius, she stared at him blankly for a total of five seconds and then pulled him down by his black tie,crashing her lips onto his. Draco's eyes widened with disbelief but then he closed his eyes and sunk into the feeling of her lips on his.
Scorpius fake gagged at this,but then he remembered that he had to turn the turner back. He checked for the turner which must have been in Lyra's hands,only to find, to his horror, that Lyra was not with him. Fortunately, she was not very far. Spotting a bunch of kricowls,she thought that it would be fun to chase them. The time-turner dangling carelessly in a hand. In a panicked way, he immediately rushed and grabbed his sister and before the toddler could let out a whine of disagreement, he snatched the time-turner and had already given it a few turns in reverse.
They stayed at the same place,but everything around them changed at a fast pace as they observed people making an appearance and leaving within the blink of an eye. It was mostly Draco and Y/n rather than other people. Then they stopped.
The place hasn't changed a bit, and everything looked just the same as it was when they first arrived. The only change being the addition of someone yelling at the same place back where they saw their parents. Someone was arguing and again the voice felt familiar.
Peeping out of the pillar to see what was going on, both of them saw someone with raven black hair with his back turned towards them, yelling and pointing a finger at Y/n who had her face hidden under her palms and crying.
"How could you Y/n? So he is more important to you than your own brother? I can't believe this!"
"Don't yell at her Potter!" Draco butted in, holding Y/n gently and patting her back,he sent a glare towards Harry.
"You seduced her! She could never fall in love with you in her right sen-"
"Enough Harry! He is not what you think! Just listen to me!"
"He calls Hermione that, he insults the Weasleys and he even insulted you! How foolish could you be?! This is all a trap,snap out of it!"
"Don't you dare question my love for her! I care about your sister, no matter what!"
"You shut up! You are a foul git! Your entire family consists of a bunch of bigots!"
At this Draco immediately snapped and punched Harry, which Harry retaliated by punching him back and very soon both of them got into a fist fight. Y/n was a crying mess as she screamed at them to stop,she fell on her knees and cried profusely. Scorpius was highly disturbed by this scenario. As far as he remembered, Uncle Harry and his Father always got along well ,even with Uncle Ron and aunty Hermione.
Lyra,not being able to see her mother in distress, freed herself from Scorpius' grip and ran up to her mother to give her a hug.
"Mommy!" She ran up and hugged Y/n out of the blue. This stopped all three from their actions. Y/n was extremely shocked ,she was not able to comprehend what just happened. Lyra then freed herself from her mother, went up to her beloved Father and pulled his trousers.
"Bad Daddy! Bad Uncle Harry! You made Mommy cwy!"
"Sweetie, what's your name?" Y/n asked softly.
"Lywa, Lywa Malfoy." She puffed her chest and spoke proudly. Clearly her Daddy's daughter.
"Lyra,come back here!" Scorpius ran up to her and picked her up in his arms.
Draco stopped breathing completely at the sight of a miniature 'him' right in front of his eyes.
"Uhh, hi Mum ,hi Dad, hi Uncle…" Scorpius greeted them nervously. An awkward silence prevailed among them as Lyra clung on to the younger version of her mother.
"Wait,what's happening here,I'm confused?" Y/n broke the silence
Then noticing the hourglass shaped pendant, the pieces of the puzzle came together and she finally solved it. Heaving a sigh, she rubbed her forehead.
"Did you two use that?"
"Yes,we did."
"Now it makes sense. Wait, are you Draco's and my children?"
"Yes."
"So this means we got married?" Draco asked with a surprised but joyous tone.
"Yes."
"And I agreed to that?" Harry was flabbergasted.
"Yes again and this is the first time, we are seeing you two fight."
"WHAT?"Both Draco and Harry yelled.
"Stop shouting, will you ? She has fallen asleep." Y/n whisper-shouted , as she gently held Lyra in her lap while the toddler slept peacefully as she sucked on her thumb.
Picking her up gently in her arms, she handed her over to Draco, who was mesmerized by the sight of his girlfriend taking care of a miniature Y/n ,who turns out to be his daughter from the future. The affirmation of marrying the girl of his dreams, made him emotional, tears welled up in his eyes,threatening to fall and show his vulnerability. But,his expression was enough to let everyone know how he truly felt.
Y/n knew that Draco needed to feel the little toddler in his arms for once so as to make him believe that this was not a dream. Harry was completely speechless. The idea of being an uncle overwhelmed his senses as he looked at the two children, one being the carbon copy of Y/n when she was three and the other looking like Draco when he was seven.
Y/n reached out to Scorpius and placed her palm on his cheeks gently as she looked into his eyes with a feeling very foreign to her but was very welcome. Is this how a mother feels? Instinctively, she pulled him for a hug, relishing the feeling of her future son in her arms. Meanwhile, Draco was overjoyed to be able to hold his future daughter in his arms. He was now more than ever firm in his dream of marrying Y/n and fighting for her.
"How do Draco and I get along?" Harry asked Scorpius all of a sudden.
"You both get along quite well, in fact you both and Uncle Ron go to fight bad guys together all the time!"
"So, I am an Auror?"
"Maybe, I don't know what it's called,but you three are my heroes!" A knowing smile appeared on Y/n's lips at this.
"There are you two!" Y/n's voice echoed from the other side of the corridor. All four of them looked up to find a panting older Y/n followed by an older Draco in the same state with another time-turner in his hand.
"Mum,Dad, I am so sorry! It was Lyra,she started playing with the time-turner and I didn't know-"
"Sweetheart,it's alright. We'll talk about this when we get home. Don't worry,no one's scolding you. I am just glad that you both are safe." Y/n spoke as she tightly hugged Scorpius. Looking at the younger Draco, Draco said, "don't worry, it's going to be a tough fight,but it'll be worth everything." He nodded back in affirmation as he handed over Lyra to the arms of his older self.
Draco didn't need any explanation, he knew what his older self meant. Each and every word. The feeling of carrying his children in his arms and the thought of making Y/n his wife got imprinted in his soul and he would give up everything to have that.
"Okay, this was a very heartwarming meeting,but I'm afraid that we'll have to obliviate you three. Oh hi Harry!"
"You're really going to obliviate us? I don't want to forget this."
"We understand Y/n, but trust me,you'll have all of this very soon. Sooner than you can think."
With this, they drew out their wands and carefully obliviated all three of them from this particular incident. But,before leaving, Draco made sure to leave a note inside younger Draco's pocket and with that they left.
___________________________________________
"Oh my goodness, I was so worried! Y/n, Draco, I am so sorry for losing them!"
"Don't be Narcissa, it's not your fault."
"Father, I'd like to know,why were you even carrying these objects which may contain dark magic in just a simple bag?" Even though Draco asked this calmly, the anger in his tone was not missed at all.
"The box in which these were kept,absorbed some dark magic and itself became lethal too, which is why we were instructed to keep these in a bag ,even though all the objects have been checked and these are not containing any form of dark magic." Lucius informed monotonously,clearly still very tired and wishing nothing more than to return to his 'humble' Manor.
"Draco, it's late, we should go take some rest now. Would you like to spend the night here?"
"No dear, we are on our way, we have given enough trouble to you both, Goodnight!" Narcissa bid them.
"Don't say that, you didn't give us much trouble. It was because of these troublemakers, but it's alright,the problem is solved now. So……..Goodnight!"
___________________________________________
"What just happened to us?" Y/n asked ,still in a daze and trying to figure out badly about the situation they are in.
"I don't know, I am just as clueless as you are." Harry replied.
"Yeah,me too." Draco agreed with Harry.
"You know what Malfoy, you break her heart, I'll break your bones!" At this Y/n squealed and hugged Harry thanking him.
"I'd rather kill myself than ever hurt her." Draco replied.
___________________________________________
Later on when he was alone inside his dorm,he felt something inside his pocket. Sliding his hand inside it,he found a note. A huge smile appeared on his face as he read it :
" Dear Draco,
She's worth everything, don't ever lose her. Always fight for her,because she will become your everything. "
Draco smiled at the last sentence, because Y/n had already become his everything and he would fight till death to make her happy.
-------------------------------------------------------
A/n: This is the first time that I posted my work publicly. I know that this wasn't quite good enough, but I promise to be a better writer and work on my skills in the days to come. Thanks to Chloe (@drayslove) again for this beautiful idea! Thank you for reading! Have a nice day!💕
Taglist(my lovely mutuals): @mysteriousteaposts ,@thehalfbloodedwitch , @miss-celestial-being ,@blackthunder137 ,@slytherin-princess247 ,@n0agranger ,@drayslove ,@my-my-only-angel ,@jexnrey, @lily-the-ravenclaw, @natti-ice , @siriusblackstwin,@dr4cosimp, @bazizinga,@unmadana ,@kaurava-apologist ,@budugu ,@browsing-my-favourite-fandoms ,@writingwitch007 ,@millesawaybb .
#draco lucius malfoy#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco fluff#draco fanfiction#draco malfoy#draco fic#draco imagine#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader#draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader#draco malfoy x gryffindor#draco malfoy x you#dracotok#draco malfoy x slytherin!reader#time turner#time travel#sea's works.｡*♡
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Bucky Barnes: Wedding Cop
Summary: It’s Bucky’s best friend’s wedding. Well too bad that this particular best friend was Steve Rogers, who seemed to be a nervous wreck, wanting everything to go off without a hitch. So what does he do? Force Bucky into patrolling duty. Lucky for him, one of Natasha’s gorgeous bridesmaids, who looked like she had been assigned to babysitting duty, makes his rounds around the garden estate a lot more interesting.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
no powers au | first meets
*****
Bucky grumbled as he yanked at the tie that was pulling on his neck, courtesy of his best friend.
”All right Buck, I put my full faith in you. Everything better go perfectly from here on out,” Steve fumbled, trying to hide his worries with a casual fix of his best buddy’s tie. “ Remember, Tony is not allowed to dance on the tables again. And don’t let anyone else get too drunk and weird. Nothing is allowed to ruin Natasha’s big night.”
“It’s your big night too, Steve.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Stop worrying and go find your wife.”
“C’mon, Buck,” Steve pleaded. “You already know that her parents don’t like me that much. If something goes wrong on their daughter’s wedding night, they’ll literally hate me forever.”
“I think they already hate you for not being Russian.”
“You’re not funny.” Steve furrowed his eyebrows.
“Look, Stevie,” Bucky pushed his friend’s hands away from his tie that was starting to choke him a tad. “You got married to Natasha, not to her parents. Her love for you is absolutely crazy, and nothing’s gonna change that, even if her parents aren’t that fond of you. Which by the way means that something is totally wrong with them.”
Steve cracked a smile.
“Stop worrying about them, punk,” Bucky continued. “You're wasting your time here stressing out when you could be dancing with Natasha, just enjoying your life. Your married, for fuck’s sake. At least act like you like it.”
“Jerk.” Steve shoved Bucky’s shoulder with a grin.
“So that means I’m off security duty?”
“You wish.”
Bucky’s cheeky grin dropped.
“What’re you waiting for?” Steve smirked. “I think you’re a bit too old for me to sign you off for some volunteer hours.”
Bucky lazily scanned the garden, watching people chat, laugh, and dance (and basically everything he wished he were doing other than playing cop).
The garden itself was beautifully landscaped, featuring carefully manicured flower beds bursting with a riot of colors. Roses, peonies, and daisies created a tapestry of blooms, their sweet fragrance filling the air and scent mingling with the soft, gentle breeze.
Bucky’s eyes caught Steve and Natasha talking quietly in each other’s ears in the corner, pure love evident on both their faces, hiding from the crowd to get a second to themselves.
A smile pulled on Bucky’s face, his heart melting at the sight. However, he was more than happy to point somebody’s grandma in the direction of the newlyweds after she had tugged on his sleeve and asked if he knew where they were, wanting to talk to the couple.
Bucky silently cursed at his best friend as he watched the old lady slowly make her way over to them. That’s what you get, you bastard.
He continued walking aimlessly around the garden, and as Bucky neared the large oak tree where he first started his lap, he saw a large group of young kids laughing hysterically and running in circles around someone.
Bucky peered past the children, trying to catch a glimpse of the poor person in the middle, wanting to get a quick laugh before he had to go back to his job.
He spotted you in the center of the game of Ring around the Rosie on crack, wearing a beautiful pastel pink bridesmaid dress, frantically trying to calm the kids down before they received even more attention from the guests.
He remembered seeing you earlier in the lineup of bridesmaids during the wedding, standing between Yelena and Wanda, but he didn’t get a good look through his teary eyes as he watched his best friend cry with joy throughout the ceremony.
He slowed his walk down to a halt, chuckling at the sight of you trying to bribe the kids with a pack of gum to get them to stop.
Before he could do anything else though, he accidentally made eye-contact with Sam, who was enjoying watching Bucky walk around in circles a little too much.
“Keep walking, bitch,” Sam mouthed at Bucky, making a circling motion with his finger. “Or else I’m telling Steve that you ain’t doing your job.”
Bucky flipped Sam off with a sneer, earning an obnoxious laugh from the latter.
However, wanting to satisfy his best friend’s wishes, Bucky continued his lap. He decided to walk as fast as he possibly could around the garden, trying to get back to you, sending a charming smile at a couple of guests that he accidentally bumped into in his rush.
Bucky drastically slowed down once he heard the group of kids again, cursing at himself for making it so obvious. This time, they were all chewing gum obnoxiously while you were shoving an empty packet of trident gum into a nearby trash can.
(So that’s exactly what Bucky planned to do on repeat: walk around the garden like his ass was on fire until he reached you, where he would slow down and stare like a creep.
Great plan, right?)
On the third round, you were laughing with a little boy who seemed to be unsuccessfully trying to blow bubbles with his gum.
On the fourth round, you were being pulled in opposite directions by two little girls who seemed to be fighting over you.
On the fifth round, all the girls were gently braiding white peonies from a nearby bush into your hair while you held a giant rock-paper-scissors tournament with the boys.
During the frenzy of the game, Bucky somehow managed to beckon Cass, Sam’s younger nephew, over.
“Hey, buddy.” Bucky knelt down on one knee to match the boy’s height. “Having fun?”
“Uncle Bucky, if you’re trying to get me to play matchmaker for you, I’ll have you know that I’m a little too busy right now to be playing cupid for a grown man.”
Bucky stared at the little boy. Why did he have to be so damn smart. “C’mon, Cass,” Bucky didn’t even try to create a cover story. “Just tell me her name.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Cass stuck his tongue. “It’s sad that your love life needs help from a six year old.”
“Ouch.” Bucky watched Cass run back to the group, getting up back to his feet before looking over at you again.
You looked like a fucking goddess with the flowers weaved into your hair and the soft glow from the fairy lights that were strung around leaving an angelic gleam on your smiling face.
However, before Bucky could stare for too long, Sam was urging him to keep walking.
On the sixth round, you were playing a huge game of concentration with all the kids.
On the seventh round, it was just you and Morgan Stark left in the game, and Bucky watched as you purposefully hesitated to let the little girl win. You laughed as she danced around you, repeatedly chanting “I win, you lose, I win, you lose”.
Damn Starks and their egos.
In the middle of the eighth round, while Bucky was rushing to get back to your group, a familiar hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Woah, Buck,” Steve laughed. “I’m glad that you’re so determined to make sure nothing goes wrong, but I just meant keep an eye on everyone. Like from wherever you were standing. Not walk around aggressively in circles.”
Bucky shrugged nervously. “Um, what can I say? It’s my duty to make sure everything’s perfect. Plus, I- uh, love walking.”
Steve looked suspicious. “Yeah, whatever. C’mon, let’s go to the dance floor. Becca’s looking for you.”
“Uh yeah, lemme just finish my final lap. There were a couple of tipsy looking men over there. Think they’re Alexei’s friends or something,” Bucky lied, gesturing in the general direction where he last saw you guys sitting. “I’ll just make sure they’re not too drunk and then I’ll join you guys.”
“You don’t have to, Buck,” Steve clapped his friend’s shoulder. “But thank you.”
Bucky nodded curtly, promptly speed-walking back to you and the kids. Once he finally made it to the familiar tree, he was stopped in his tracks. You weren’t there.
Bucky finally noticed that all the kids were back with their parents; some being forced to eat, some dancing around with their dads, and some sitting, exhausted, in their mom’s lap.
He looked around for your familiar pink dress and white flowers hanging on by the thread in your hair, but he couldn’t spot you anywhere.
However, before he could find Cass and bribe him into telling Bucky where you went, a finger tapped on his shoulder.
It was Yelena, looking weirdly amused.
“Can I help you?” Bucky was a bit annoyed by the interruption during his frantic search for you.
“Actually, I think I can help you.” Her smug voice was coated in a thick Russian accent.
Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at her.
“Come on, lover boy, you can’t hide anything from me. I saw the way you were looking at her.”
“No clue what you’re talking about.” Bucky tried to look as bored as possible, but his heart skipped a beat.
“Just admit it, Barnes. Or else I’ll tell your mother, and then she'll take matters into her own hands.”
Bucky’s head whipped towards Winnifred Barnes, who was across the garden, and was laughing at something Sam had said. Of course, Bucky loved his mother dearly, but Yelena probably would be a better matchmaker.
“Fine,” He mumbled. “You win.”
“Of course. I always do.” She pushed him, not so gently, in the direction of the bar. “Go get her, Casanova. She’s over there.”
“Couldn’t have done that any softer?” Bucky grumbled, steading himself from the shove.
“Nope.” She smiled sweetly.
Once Bucky was a couple yards out, she called out after him. “Don’t forget to use protection!”
“Fuck. You.” Bucky mouthed at her, earning a witch-like cackle from Yelena, but not before he checked to make sure not too many people were staring.
As Bucky approached the bar, he wiped his clammy hands onto his suit, surprised at his own nervousness.
Where the hell did all this sweat come from?
Bucky cleared his throat, taking a seat in the empty stool next to you, trying to figure out how to start the conversation.
C’mon, Bucky. You’ve done this plenty of times before. Stop worrying. You’re becoming Steve. Just go for it. Say something. Anything-
“You’re Steve’s best man, right?” A gentle voice interrupted his frantic train of thought. “I remember seeing you power-walk in circles from across the garden earlier. Kinda reminded me of my grandma.”
Bucky laughed, his nerves melting away as he shot a sweet grin at you. “I bet your grandma’s got nothing on me. You see how fast I was going?”
“I certainly did. But I’m still wondering why, though.”
“What if I said that I was training for the Olympics?”
You giggled, and Bucky almost melted into a puddle at the sound. “Well then I would say that you wouldn’t last a minute there. Have you ever seen professional race-walking? It’s intense, man.”
“You saying I’m not good enough to compete?” Bucky nudged your shoulder with his own, his usual wave of confidence rippling back through him. “I’d like to see you try to beat me.”
“Give me the date and time,” You nudged him back. “You’re on.”
“Okay, okay, I see how it is.” Bucky clicked his tongue. “But, personally, I prefer to know my opponent’s name before we race to the death.”
“Well, personally,” You mocked, giving Bucky a sly grin. “I don’t like giving out private information to the enemy.”
“Fine, be that way. But since I, for one, am a good sport, I’ll start.” He dramatically stuck his hand out. “Hey there, I’m Bucky.”
You took his hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Bucky arched an eyebrow at you. “Y’know, usually when someone introduces themselves to you, you’re supposed to introduce yourself back.”
“Oh really?” You slowly pulled your hand back, and he already missed the warmth of it. “Well thank you for the words of wisdom, Bucky. I’ll be sure to try it next time.” You stretched out his name with a smirk, and Bucky turned red.
Since when was the name ‘Bucky’ this erotic?
He chuckled and looked out to the dance floor, not wanting to give away the blush adorning his cheeks. He spotted Natasha and Steve, who were dancing slowly together in the middle, staring softly into each other’s eyes without a care in the world.
“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” You followed Bucky’s gaze to the couple, resting your chin in one hand and letting out a happy sigh.
Not as adorable as you, thou-
Bucky heard his name being called out, along with someone else’s he didn’t recognize.
Yelena squeezed in between you both, swinging an arm around each of you. She winked at Bucky. “I see you two have met.”
Bucky looked over at you with a smirk. "So that's your name, huh?" He repeated it with a long and dramatic stretch, just like you had with his. You hit his foot with your own.
“Whoa, no need to get violent,” Yelena jokingly slapped the back of your head before returning her arm onto your shoulder.
“Says you.” Bucky snorted.
“Yeah, Barnes. Says me.” Yelena slapped Bucky’s head next. “Anyways, everyone’s looking for you guys. Let’s go dance.”
Before either of you could protest, Yelena was already dragging you both by the hand up onto your feet and to the crowd in the middle of the estate. She shoved Bucky’s hands onto your waist and yours onto his shoulders before hurriedly walking away. “Have fun! I’m going to go find a dance partner.”
“Um, sorry about that.” You looked down at your feet, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Nothing to be sorry about, doll.” Bucky nudged your foot with his own. “So, you wanna dance?”
“If we didn’t, Yelena probably would kill us.” You leaned forward a bit as you laughed, and Bucky caught a whiff of the flowers in your hair. “But I’m definitely gonna step on your feet, so I apologize in advance.”
“Don’t you worry, doll. You’ll do great.” He started moving his feet to the music, urging you to sway along with him.
After a couple of laughs and bruises on Bucky’s toes, you had finally nailed it.
“See, you’re doing fabulous. I’m so proud of you.” Bucky smiled.
“Mhm, you can say that after I step on your foot again.”
“Oh c’mon, that’s not gonna happen. You’ve got this shit down.” Bucky winked at you. “That’s what happens when you get a great teacher like me.”
“Keep bragging and I’ll step on your foot on purpose this time.” You threatened. However, your mocking glare quickly turned into a sweet smile as spotted Morgan, who was dancing with her dad a few feet away.
Bucky watched as you two took turns sticking your tongues out at each other, the battle finally ending once Tony and Morgan danced away over to Pepper.
The crowd slowly dwindled down, leaving you and Bucky on the dance floor along with a few other couples.
Your dress twirled around you, the fabric flowing and whispering as you moved. Bucky’s hand rested on the small of your back, and the smooth wooden floor beneath them seemed to sway along in rhythm.
“You’re great with kids,” Bucky pointed out when you turned back to face him. “I saw you with 'em earlier too.”
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled at him, flashing your teeth. “I was convinced into babysitting for the night. Luckily the kids didn’t get too crazy. Probably shouldn't have given all of them gum though.”
Bucky laughed. “I feel you. I was forced into security duty by Steve.”
“Unpaid workers unite!” You stuck your hand up for a high-five, and Bucky gladly accepted with a hearty laugh. “So you’re pretty close to Steve, huh?”
“Yeah. We grew up together in Brooklyn. Been friends for as long as I can remember. He’s always been there for me.” Bucky looked over at his best friend, who was standing with Winnie and Sam, his arm draped across Natasha’s waist, pulling her close into him. “I’m really happy for him. He deserves all of this.”
You nodded, smiling up at Bucky with sparkling eyes. “You sound like an amazing friend,” You said softly, matching the gentle music playing in the background.
And in that moment, Bucky wanted to know everything about you- your hopes, your dreams, your fears, and the stories that danced behind your eyes. Time seemed to slow down as Bucky absorbed every detail of your presence- everything from your mischievous eyes down to your delicate lips that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.
The sheer sight of your twinkling smile stirred emotions deep in him, and he wanted nothing more than to see that smile over and over again for the rest of his life. His mind scrambled to find the right words to describe the mixture of delight and nervousness he felt in his veins that created some sort of magnetic force that tugged you closer to him.
You were just a few inches away. Bucky’s breath caught in his chest.
“Central park. Tomorrow at noon. I’ll pick you up,” He whispered.
“You taking me on a date tomorrow, Barnes?” Your eyes flickered to his lips.
“Nah, doll.” Bucky inched closer. “We’re gonna race.”
And then he closed the distance with a lingering kiss.
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