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#now go sit in the corner and think about what you did
b14augrana · 1 day
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Hi, would you write a reader x Alessia Russo where reader is pregnant?
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‘Little Ladybug’
Before the biggest match of her career, the only thing Alessia needs is to see you.
Alessia Russo x reader
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masterlist
Warnings: fluff 💝💝, pretty short but still cute!!
A/N: yeah guys not my best fic that’s for sure x hope u enjoy anyways 😇
“Less,” you whisper-shouted, creeping into the England locker room. You peered around carefully, still a bit scared of getting caught despite knowing you had permission to be there.
You turned the corner into the wide room and saw the blonde sitting in front of her cubby, wrapping tape just below her shin guards. She looked up at the sound of your voice.
“Ella said you wanted to see me?” you added. Alessia nodded, smiling a little bit and patting the seat beside her. You sat down, and the blonde wrapped an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder gently.
The stadium was loud, and reasonably so. Alessia had been looking forward to the final for ages, but you knew how anxious she was about it at the same time. Spain was a tough team, she knew that. You didn’t know much about football, but you tried for Lessi.
“How is she?” Alessia whispered, rubbing your stomach gently.
“She’s good. I think she knows what’s happening, because she’s been kicking a bit,” you replied, laughing quietly. Alessia smiled and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up.
“I’ll see you after the match. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, I promise I’ll make it up to you later on,” she continued, and you shook your head.
“Hey, don’t worry about it Less. I’m fine.”
You stood up as well, giving her one last smile and squeezing her hand hopefully before walking out of the locker room. You could hear her following behind you, and as you went to take your seat in the stands, your eyes scanned for your girlfriend’s presence on the pitch.
Your daughter kicked against the walls of your stomach again and you put a hand over the bump, smiling gently. Even she was excited for her mama, and you couldn’t wait to tell Lessi just that.
When the final whistle blew, you couldn’t explain how gutted you were for Alessia and the other Lionesses. They were so close, but not close enough.
You knew how much this tournament meant to Alessia. To all the Lionesses, in fact. Everyone could see just how badly they wanted it through the tears in their eyes.
You found Alessia about ten minutes later getting interviewed by reporters. Her cheeks were flushed red and tear-stained, but her sweet smile remained.
“There has to be a loser in every game. We fell short today, but it’s a learning curve. All we can do now is regroup, focus on future tournaments and come back stronger than ever when the time comes,” Alessia commented, sniffling a couple times between words, “I’m proud of myself and this team for getting this far. You know, we gave it our all but at the end of the day, they just had more to give. We did the most we could.”
You stood to the side, away from all the cameras and microphones. When Alessia walked away, she beelined to you quickly and threw her arms around you. With her head buried in the crook of your neck, you hugged her back as tight as you could.
She pulled away, her eyes still bloodshot. “I’m proud of you, Lessi,” you said, holding her face in your hands. She sniffled once more, smiling sadly but whispering a ‘thank you’ under her breath.
“Come on, let’s go grab my stuff and head back to the hotel so I can run you a bath. You and our little ladybug must be freezing,” Alessia said, rubbing your bump and wrapping an arm around your waist, walking you to the locker room.
She drove you all the way back to the hotel and almost immediately after you crossed the threshold of your hotel room, she ran to the bathroom and filled up the bathtub with warm water for you. She took a shower but made it quick so she could make the bed and lay some clothes out for you.
After the bath, you got changed and slumped into bed. Lessi was already there, fighting off exhaustion. “Go to sleep Less. You need it,” you spoke, pulling her hair out of her face.
“Okay,” she muttered. Her hand drifted down the sheets, looking for yours; her grip was gentle, she was barely holding on but still touching you.
Within minutes she was asleep, her soft breathing filling the room. You watched her with a content smile, and her hand moved up to your stomach, ghosting over the skin.
At that moment, your daughter kicked once again. The remnants of a smile played across Alessia’s face, and you could tell she felt the love from her little ladybug.
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weneeya · 2 days
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Can I request Sakusa or Atsumu accidentally revealing they have an s/o during an interview or something.
Like they’ve been in a relationship for quite a while, but both of them want to keep things private. But during an interview the question leads to a slip-up where they reveal they have an s/o. And they feel really bad for that, but in the end their s/o isn’t really mad about it
secret revealed w/ atsumu, sakusa, hinata, bokuto m.list | rules
note. omg thank you for your request i love the idea so much!! as i really wanted to do both sakusa and atsumu, i decided to do it with the msby quatuor, hope you don't mind <3 please don't hesitate to request!
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Miya Atsumu
If it would have been him alone, Atsumu would never have you hidden from the cameras. Not that he wanted you to be known by everyone especially ; but he was a proud man and he wanted to show you off to the world. You were amazing and he loved absolutely everything about you. But you wanted to keep it low, so he respected this. Doing anything that would make you uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted ever. 
It was a simple interview, nothing different from the usual. He was used to their questions, especially those about his private life. Atsmu was good at lying so acting like you didn’t exist was not something so difficult for him ; even if he hated it. He was sitting next to one of his teammates, when he glanced at the backstages, thinking about his answer. 
And what he saw ruined every plan he had in mind. He saw you there, waiting for him like you did it from time to time. But what was weird was that you were generally waiting outside to avoid the questions. Except that today, you were inside, and this guy from the sound was clearly hitting on you. Atsumu trusted you, obviously, but it still made him react almost right now. 
He turned his head to look at the journalist, and a bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I have a girlfriend, yeah. She’s right here yer know, waiting for me.” He said before glancing back at you, waving at little. It caught you off guard, and you looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes. The poor guy who was trying something previously felt terribly stupid, and he quickly moved away from you, understanding the message. 
After the interview, you were walking outside, arms crossed and not answering the poor Atsumu who was almost begging you to look at him. “I’m sorry, please!” He was almost falling on your back, trying to force you to acknowledge his presence. You glanced at him and he had this adorable pout over his lips. You rolled your eyes, before a sigh left your lips. 
“You’re an idiot,” you started, and a smirk appeared on his face at the sound of your voice. “Yer idiot.” He left a kiss on your cheek and you couldn’t restrain the smile that got on the corner of your lips. Surely he was your idiot, yes.
Sakusa Kiyoomi
Sakusa Kiyoomi was a discrete man, especially when it came to his private life. He didn’t like to talk about himself in general, but when it came to you, the one he loved, it was even worse. He knew how people could be when they were a fan of someone, and seeing you hurt because of this was the last thing he wanted. So after talking about it together, you decided to not announce anything officially and to be careful. 
He was supposed to spend today with you but there was a sudden change of schedule and he had to go to an interview. Not only was he annoyed because he hated interviews, but even more because he had to cancel his peaceful day with you. He sat there, and everyone could understand that Sakusa was in a bad mood. 
The interview got on, and the questions about his private life quickly arrived. Soon or later, the journalist was asking him about his lovelife more particularly. Even if Sakusa was usually so cautious about it, today was different because he couldn’t see you as much as he wanted, so the words slipped out of his mouth. “Yes, I have someone in my life. And if it wasn’t for this, I would have been with her right now.” 
His tone was harsh and cold, and it quickly ended all the discussions about his private life. When he left the building, he simply got back to your place in no time. A long sigh left his lips when he finally got rid of his shoes, joining the kitchen where he saw the light. You turned around to look at him, and the smile he saw on your lips eased his heart so easily. 
“I may have made a mistake,” he started, and it made your eyebrows rise slowly. He explained to you, and your only reaction was to chuckle gently. It caught him off guard, because he didn’t expect such a reaction. Weren’t you angry that he revealed your secret? You looked back at his eyes, smiling once again. “People needed to know one day, so it’s fine.” 
Sakusa nodded slowly, leaving a soft kiss against your temple. You were right, you couldn’t keep it to yourself forever. He would have wanted to show you to the world differently, because you deserved better, but at least he wouldn’t have to hide anymore.
Hinata Shouyou
You didn’t really care about being known as Hinata’s girlfriend, but the boy was less enthusiastic than you. Knowing that he met you during his time in Brazil, and knowing how his country was, he was just scared that people would say anything bad about you. Even if he was a real sunshine, he would never accept any bad remarks towards the person he loved the most in his entire life. This is why both of you decided to keep your relationship private. 
But Hinata Shouyou was not really good at hiding things, especially not when you were making him so happy. It wasn’t his own interview ; actually it was Kageyama who was getting interviewed after their match against Hinata’s team. He was answering some questions with his usual awkwardness when a voice came from behind. It was Hinata yelling at him. 
“Hey, Kageyama! Look, she’s here!” Hinata pointed at you before waving with a huge smile, and Kageyama simply offered you a little wave. Obviously, the interviewer asked about who you were, and Tobio was as much of an idiot as Hinata, so he simply told the truth. “It’s his girlfriend,” he said, and Hinata quickly arrived behind him, giggling like it was nothing. “Isn’t she pretty?” 
You saw the camera turning in your direction, and you quickly ran away from it. You didn’t care, but you wanted to respect your boyfriend’s choice. Except that you wouldn’t run too far, Hinata grabbing you during your escape to hold you tight. This is how the whole volleyball world knew about Ninja Shouyou’s girlfriend. 
“I thought you didn’t want people to know,” you said to him while you were walking to your apartment. He giggled like only he could do it, rubbing his nose against your cheek. “I don’t care, I’ll protect you from anything.” He looked back at you with his adorable smile, and you swore you heard your heart stopping in your chest. It wasn’t even surprising anymore with Hinata.
Bokuto Koutarou
He wasn’t the type to be careful about a lot of things, except for people he loved the most. And you were probably the person he cared the most about in his whole life. You were able to keep up with his mood swings without being annoyed or anything, and he simply loved you so much. So he wanted to keep you all for himself, and as you weren’t a fan of celebrity, both of you came to the arrangement that you should keep your relationship private. 
It wasn’t a problem, and it didn’t become one until this interview. It was at the end of a match they just won, and Bokuto was over excited by the victory. He was smiling like crazy, running everywhere ; it was almost too difficult to keep him in place for the interview. So when the question about someone sharing his life arrived, he didn’t think twice. 
“I have my beautiful girlfriend waiting for me! She’s the best!” He almost yelled in the microphone, leaving everyone in shock, especially you behind your screen at home. His teammates had to calm him down before he let out too much about you, knowing well that it was supposed to be a secret. And after the interview, they had to remind Bokuto what he said. 
When he entered your apartment, he was completely down. The victory was nothing next to the idea of him disappointing you like this. He slowly walked to the couch, sitting next to you, his head almost immediately falling on your lap. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have.” 
Your fingers slowly moved to his hair, trying to ease his heart a little. How could you blame him? You knew how he was, so you were expecting this to happen one day. You smiled softly, leaving a kiss against his cheek. “It’s okay Kou, it’s fine. I’m good,” you told him, and he quickly sat back. He looked at you, eyes wide and bright. 
“Really? You’re not mad?” You chuckled slightly, before slowly shaking your head from left to right. “Of course not.” You reassure him, and in a second, Bokuto’s excitement came back like before. You would never get mad at him, and especially not for him loving you so much.
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thank you!!
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grind-pantera · 2 days
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I SO badly need a part 2 to Customary with Noa x reader 😭 pretty please!!!
I'M ON THE WAY DEARIE. I am so sorry it's so long but pls enjoy! Reblogs/Likes always appreciated. Maybe I make part three if anyone is interested! Thanks!
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Title: Gone Hunting. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of blood, hunting game animals, animal mating. ) Words: 5.9K+ Pairing: Implied - Noa x Human! Reader. Summary: A week has subsided since you told Noa about the nature of romantic love. You wanted to avoid it, avoid him, but you had previously promised to go with him on a hunting trip. Was it a rouse for him to get you alone? Part ONE: Customary.
** Does Contain Mild Spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.
-- -- --
It had been a week since your last in-depth conversation and you still found that you were unable to look him in the eye. Noa seemed to not notice, or maybe he did and just didn't care enough to do anything about it. After all, the seriousness of the conversation, the floating vibration that still cramped your fingertips when you thought about touching him, the hardness that found its way to your throat when you attempted any sort of conversation with him… It was disheartening to think, but you figured he just didn't care enough personally to pressure.
-- -- --
“Love doesn’t need to be understood,” You were talking to him in such a hushed tone of voice, something that wasn’t frequent with you and Noa turned his head to the side ever so slightly at the sound of it. Breathy, he would say it was… And very, very different from the self-assurance you often carried yourself with. Wavering around the corner of words as if you were unsure of what you were saying. You were avoiding eye contact again, Noa mused, half tempted to look over his shoulder at what you had locked your gaze on. Probably something off in the distance, a tree fluttering with the slight breeze that shuffled the fur on his body and the hair on your head. An Eagle maybe? Noa was consciously aware that his own feathery friend was sitting behind the two of you, unwavering in their loyalty to him. He wanted to be jealous of something you were looking at, but Noa found himself locked on to you, baited anticipation to hear that voice again, the way it was speaking to him. So soft, so gentle, so… so… Personal.
“Love just needs to be embraced.”
Noa had his hand up to sign but you had turned to the side already, shuffling as quietly as you could. Quiet, but it was deafening to Noa. Every fall of your foot, every breath you were taking deep into your lungs and releasing quickly, tucking your hair behind your ear, the mere friction of that… All sounds were beating down on him like the fists of another Ape. Had he… Done something wrong? Asked something wrong? It was now very obvious that you were done talking, pushed against the wall metaphorically and had nothing else to say to him.
He’d encountered this countless times in the few months that you had been here. But, your inability to go on and explain further left Noa understandably frustrated this time around. Not at you, never at you… He curled his fingers at his side and sat back on his legs, almost burning a hole into the back of your head with his eyes. You were now moving to get the horse you came on prepped for the small journey back to the village. Not that you needed to, it was just something to keep yourself occupied, away from the thought that he was perceiving your words in the way he wanted to. You left it vague enough to leave it up to interpretation, by all means.
Turning his head to the side, he looked at his Eagle and pressed a curled pointer finger to their beak. It was not too far of a trek back, you didn't need to adjust anything with the horse…But it was far enough away that you felt comfortable to talk to him openly. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t with others around, he figured that Echo’s arrogance would run wild and you would want to boast to the Apes about how things were. How things were better for Echo’s than Apes but you never did that. He also heard another concept about Echo’s and that was privacy. And out of all things, Noa knew that privacy in conversations was important. He never understood why; Apes were social creatures and most likely knew everything ( or close to everything ) about their neighbors without plight.
Maybe that was why Noa was so drawn to… He stopped his thought process there and shook his head. He was quick to rationalize. No, there was no reason to be drawn to any of this, but he didn't want it to stop. Noa was even quicker to give into selfish ideology. He was holding his hand out there in the deep dark, hoping to the highest heavens that your hand would reach his.
-- -- --
Tilting your head to the side, a deep sigh left your parted lips. That wasn’t like Noa, though… He wouldn’t adversely reach out to you unless you were willing to reach out first. That’s how it’s been since the beginning and that’s how it remained, you never wanted to change it because it made you feel wanted… Wanted by him…
Your legs felt like they were going to fall off and that derailed your train of previous melancholy. There was a nice river he knew about, about three clicks away and Noa used the excuse of going hunting to drag you with him. You didn't necessarily want to go, you feared being alone with him for prolonged periods of time but surprisingly… It was a pleasant enough ride there on the back of your loaned horse. You believed it to be Soona’s, and you were fortunate that she let you use it occasionally. Not much was spoken, a few phrases here and there spotted between actually talking and Noa signing at you one handed as he kept another hand on the reins of his horse.
The sun was high in the sky, almost midday you figured, peering up at it through the thick branches of the trees. There was a thick smell of condensation clinging to the leaves of said trees; it had rained the night before and deliciously drenched everything. Ironically though, as that thought escaped your brain, your mouth went slightly dry as you looked ahead, only a few feet away from the rider in front of you. He seemed to enjoy the wistful silence that fell around the two of you, his eyes shutting for a brief second as he enjoyed the sensation of the sun peaking through the trees, blotching his body. You noted that his fur seemingly changed color at that. From a dark brown to an almost honey brown. What you would have given in that moment to see him fully bathe in the sun.
Grasping the reins tightly, you beckoned your horse a bit faster. There was a subconscious desire to be near him despite what happened. Hell, you thought to yourself and let a small blush take over your cheeks, you’d have ridden on the back of his horse if he had asked you. Of course, if he turned to face you and noticed your expression, you had a quick response. It was chillier than most days, and that was the smoking gun. You’d blame it on the cold hitting your cheeks. Simple.
But, with yourself already tangled in the thoughts, you proceeded on. You imagined that idea… Sitting so close to him, your chest to his back, heart beating quicker than you cared to admit. Your face resting against his shoulder to look forward, almost the same perspective as Noa himself… You desperately found yourself clinging to that aspect. To see what he saw, to know what he knew, to… To feel what he felt. Now, as you had gotten closer, you could see the evident water droplets lining along his broad shoulders. He must have bumped into a low sitting tree, maybe a bush, that distributed its lovely rain water against him. You could smell in your vivid imagination, how he must smell… Deeply ingrained dirt under fingernails, the Earth below your feet, toes curling into the sand, the brisk whisk of a hazy morning standing in a field of wheat by yourself, the allotment of sun brushing against delicate skin… That prospect alone left you feeling incredibly heady.
‘Here,’ He signed quickly, simultaneously slipping off his horse as he communicated. You were jealous of his ability to multitask like that, it was never your forte. But, Noa must have been doing it his entire life. He was taught to do that, taught from those around him… Observation was a good thing, you learned that from him. You knew that he liked to fidget things in his hands, but he was seamlessly able to sign in between that and not lose track of what his hands were doing before. You swallowed softly, being snapped viciously out of your fantasy.
Giving him a slight nod, you intently watched as he rounded his own horse and glanced up at you with those soft green eyes. Your interest was raised surely, but it was haltered when you got a full glance at him. He had his usual garb on; the cross-body sack, a few empty walnut shells tied near his shoulder with twine that would tickle his cheek if he looked over that twine encasing what appeared to be a leather band, worn from frequent use. He had it just in case he found something of interest to take back to the village, the band on his arm, yellow and orange in nature with a soft accent of tan, with adjacent and colorfully complementing feathers to show his status. They were strikingly blue and vibrant against the brown fur on his bicep, tightening anytime he would move his arm.
The band alone caused you to pause. Noa was large, larger than you by far. Not necessarily taller than any other Ape, but broad and encapsulating, and you found your eyes following him if you were in the company of others. He was the leader, and that band on his arm was more than a slap in the face at times. You remembered in most Ape clans it would be considered a luxury that he was the one personally taking you to go hunt. From the throes of hierarchy itself it was a privilege.
Noa’s eyes momentarily caught the sunlight, appearing more gold around his pupil before shifting back to their regular green as he pushed himself up to stand bi-pedal. They were gorgeous, even without the light hitting them.
‘Been here many times, with Soona and Anaya.’ Noa smiled fondly at that, letting his eyes shift away from yours to take in his surroundings. Wishing to do the same, you found yourself staring at him a moment too long before catching on that you needed to dismount your horse, needed to get your things together from the sack on the back of your horse. There was an assortment of berry bushes to your side, some appearing much more ripe than others. Black berries were sorely abundant and your eyes traced the light shapes of them against the green leaves that they were almost camouflage in. It was just now the beginning of spring, it made sense that some were ready and some were not. But, by your powers of deduction, you gathered that you were not berry hunting. ‘Easy hunting for an Echo.’
His silent words made you feel a swell in your chest. He was being… You didn't dare say considerate, but that’s what it felt like. Perhaps, more accommodating than anything else. After all, you were just a human to him, and he had nothing to gain from being considerate, but had much to gain by gaining your trust so he was more accommodating by nature. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you rested your hands on the base of the horse's shoulders, giving a sharp breath in as you hiked your legs over the side. If you were paying any attention to your surroundings instead of intensely focusing on not slipping, on not looking like a fool, you would feel a set of burning eyes watching. Observing… Obsessing…
Noa tilted his head with a gruff sound, too deep in his throat for it to be caught by your ears from the distance he held himself. Specked, almost amber-like gaze caught hold of your hands, how dainty they appeared to be compared to his own, your legs, how agile you were being, surprising for an Echo, he chuffed to himself. You were usually not like this, not balanced. He had once seen you slip on ice, which replaying inside of his mind was mildly amusing. He didn't help you up that time, and simply watched as you stumbled, trying to sign in between your slips. You could have asked for help, but you didn't. He wondered why from time to time until you explained to him embarrassment. Then it made more sense.
And ever since, he tried to keep a more mindful eye on you, on your movements; Of course, to make sure you didn't fall. He heard that Echo’s were not durable, not strong like Apes and a fall in the wrong way could cause intense problems. That’s just what he told himself though. If he were being more transparent, which he was not being, he’d have to succumb to the act that he needed to keep you protected out of his selfishness.
“Need help?” He verbalized, your feet dangling for a split second before you finally landed on the ground. A grunt left your lips with the action, your knees burning ever so slightly as weight was put back on them. Brushing your fingers along the side of the horse to calm them, you glanced over your shoulder at Noa, triumphant enough to gloat that you didn't need any assistance. “Just like Ape.” His signing was languid as if he were truly unsure if he was okay to make a comment like that towards you.
You grinned to yourself as you turned back towards the horse, shuffling to the side to get to your bag which was easy enough. Trying to ignore that sufficient pride that hit you like a moving horse due to Noa’s simple words, you dallied for a second longer than you really needed to, painting your fingers along the rough sew of your bag. He was just trying to get you to feel comfortable, it was nothing more than that. I mean… You thought to yourself with a snide chuckle. Was… Was flirting even a concept he was familiar with? Surely, they had to have some sort of form. You knew that grooming had to be a heavy part, it was a personal and intimate detail that often got overlooked when human’s thought about Apes and their threshold to be incredibly social with each other. You had seen it first hand, along with those tender moments of foreheads touching one another. Brow to brow, usually hands on the heads to keep each other near as possible, eyes closing as two slowly became one and---
You tucked your shoulders into your bag, more aggressive than you needed to and allowed the added weight to anchor you as you twisted to follow whichever way Noa deemed worthy. You also knew that they were quite sarcastic when they wanted to be, and you found it endearing at times. Especially when it was Anaya. In your head, you had dubbed him as the sarcastic one, Soona as the caring one, Dar as the motherly one, and Noa… was just Noa. No immediate words came to your mind when you tried to think about it. Maybe that was a good thing! Maybe, what was happening, what had been said, was just a crush and you were finally trying to blow past it.
He was staying on his legs for you, not wanting to move onto all fours as his pace would be too fast. Another accommodation, not a consideration. There was his heavy spear splayed across his back, being held by the strap of his bag. It swayed with his movement. Subtle, his shoulders would move ever so slightly as he walked. Following suit, it felt like you were playing a game as you grasped your own spear from your horse. It was smaller than Noa’s but just as effective and hunched it over your shoulder, holding it loosely as you took pace to match his speed. Noa was only a meter or two in front of you, leading, but you wanted to be right by his side. He looked back at you and you found your feet coming to a small stop before picking back up, a silent agreement being made there at that moment. You wouldn’t use words. You would only sign as to not scare away any potential kills.
-- -- --
“I don’t understand,” You muttered to him, your shoulders fraught with confusion. Noa’s green eyes swept from his hands over to you and longed to have it reciprocated. There was nothing though, you were pretty focused on the kill. He was holding a small rabbit who had no idea their demise had come at the hands of the Ape in front of you. It was roughly tied at the feet, binding it so he could keep it stored properly for the ride back to the Village. It was ignorant bliss that the rabbit truly lived in and now it was gone. You were envious of that - the ignorant part. Swallowing softly, you shifted your gaze to the side and pretended to be amused by the fire. He had been studying you, trying to gauge what your words were going to be. Hard, mean? Assuming something you shouldn’t have? You liked to do that and Noa liked to prove you wrong just as much. But, without any eye contact, Noa could not read you. Could not see your face, and could not make any judgments towards you as you asked him, “You--- you hunt?”
Noa knew you knew the answer to that but he obliged it anyway, “Small prey. Rabbit, usually.”
Simple enough answer, and you left it at that. And deep down, Noa’s accusation was correct. You’ve eaten fish frequently enough with the Clan. And as the sun began setting and dinner time rose, you sat quietly perched between Anaya and Soona, both talking over each other about mindless chatter and watched Noa eating a fish, dissecting it almost like he were a scientist of some sort, navigating around the small bones with ease and some sickening form of elegance. He had caught eyes with you then, a piece of fish sliding between his lips as he chewed it tentatively. The beam of the firelight in front of you was able to mask the disappointed look on your face as you realized that he was only looking at you because he sat across from you. Nothing more. Looking away quickly, you put much focus on your own fish, roasted to a tender crisp. Suddenly, Noa’s eyes were watching your moves instead of sinking into your gaze.
The way your fingers swept along the length of the fish, the way you muttered under your breath trying to get a mouthful of fish instead of bone, you felt too self-conscious to eat. You sat it down on a leaf in front of you. Another set of eyes were on you and before you could open your mouth to say something to the Ape leader in front of you, Anaya was signing, asking if he could have your remaining fish. You said yes, hastily looking away from Anaya after the confirmation but Noa was not looking at you anymore, preoccupying himself in conversation with his mother.
That same night as everyone was preparing to return to their own nests, Noa had found you. If he was seeking, you often left yourself open like a book if he wanted to come see you. It was very rarely at night though, and you took it in. Eyes glazed from the sky above, littered with all its tiny self-sufficient lights, boasted tonight by the moonlight, into green eyes that were almost too dark for their own good. You could have sworn there was something mischievous there but-- You pinned it on it being almost pitch black, a trick of the eyes. Of course, his pupils were dilated, there was no denying yours weren’t as well but you weren’t sure if you could justify yours being from the lack of light. He was on all fours as he approached you, your hands setting down the soft pelt that you had dubbed your favorite to use in your make-shift nest.
Nothing to write home about, a tanglement of tightly sprung together branches, padded by a few animal pelts. Off to the side,and tucked away safely, were your clothes. Only enough sets to keep you going. Two pairs of pants, three shirts, some undergarments… You could hear Noa and Anaya in your head at that thought. The day you were caught washing your clothes in the river, the curiosity they both had at that as Noa observed you wringing out the cloth between your hands. ‘Echo weird.’ Anaya signed to Noa as they let you be, turning to go down the river and fish. If you were observant enough, you’d have seen Noa turn back towards you, only for a split second before deciding to leave you to your duty. Which, Noa still didn't understand.
It was enough of a bed that it was comfortable and didn't leave you feeling like a wilted flower the next day. You wondered for a brief time what Noa’s must have been like and felt your shoulders dip in. You were ashamed of how yours must have looked compared to what was the norm. Was Noa’s nest comfortable? Was it warm? Could he look out and see the sky when he wanted to? You knew vaguely that his nest was perched above the rest, a right of passage that was torn between his mother and himself at the moment of his fathers death, at least until he found a mate and then it would ultimately become just theirs. You didn't even realize you were clenching your fists so tightly that your knuckles were turning mildly white.
“You want to go?” He asked, not putting in any context. He must have realized that, picking the conversation apart from earlier, before dinner. “Hunting with me.” He gestured towards himself with a hand in the natural form of a ‘C’. It pressed against his chest gently. He was gesturing to himself which made sense as he continued, “Usually go with Anaya and Soona but can take you alone. The season change, rabbits are more---”
He was murmuring which came to a slow stop, deep in his chest, it faded to the sound of an animalistic growl when you finally turned fully towards him. He was coming up with some way to get you to go with him, to be alone with him, you hadn’t given him barely the light of day since your conversation only a few days ago. Some pathetic attempt it was, Noa shouted in his head and dipped his head when you looked away from him. You knew how to hunt--- You wondered if Noa knew that. There were many times, especially recently as you had gotten disconnected from your fellow group of Humans, that you were forced to hunt. It was needed but not really your favorite thing. You learned quickly though with the Apes that often Females were left to forage for berries, vegetables, seeds and roots and Males were left to hunt actual game. Fishing was done communally, including the young as it was often their introduction to the world and concepts of hunting.
‘I’d just be in the way.’ You signed to him quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up with your tone. Noa huffed at that and tilted his head upwards towards you again. He was still on all fours, it looked like an almost defensive position like he wasn’t opening up to you completely. Bringing you bottom lip in, Noa once again as he so often enjoyed doing, watched. You nibbled once, then again this time harder than before. ‘Not very good.’
‘Better than Anaya, got scared of butterflies once.’ Noa joked, shifting towards you slightly. He looked at the pelt you had so delicately placed in front of you and for less than a split second, he lost control. Pull you towards him, push you down on that pelt and absolutely---
‘Maybe,’ You finally caved, snapping Noa back into reality with your hand moving. Hard. He kept himself grounded, hands resting roughly into the dirt below him. ‘When?’
He had just been hunting today. There was no logical way for him to explain that he wanted to go again to anyone around him. ‘Few days from now.’ He signed slowly.
-- -- --
A few days ended up being closer to eight, and you were left stuck. You had already promised to go hunting, but then the dreaded conversation seven days ago left you dispelled and not as eager to go. Crouched rather uncomfortably next to Noa, you watched him idly tie a knot around his spear. You could tell it got much use and that it was his favorite, though there were many other weapons the Clan could provide. As if he were controlled by another, he raised his arm without looking up. The eagle appeared without a sound, looking at Noa with small beady eyes that you couldn’t read anything from. But, from his reaction as he nodded to himself, raising his arm once again to dispatch his eagle brethren, he must have gotten information. It never ceased to cause you amazement that he was able to do that.
‘Close.’ He signed, drawing you back out of your almost hypnotic state. ‘Den nearby. Finished mating season,’ Noa didn't look at you with that sign, but it was different than his usual language. He was mildly stiff, shoulders drawing in together. You dared to say it was rigid, like he was unsure that it was the phrase he wanted to use. ‘Now many rabbits.’
Lips parting at that, you moved your feet to sort them away from turning numb. The crouching position was more comfortable for Noa, you decided. His spine was curved to sit like this for more extended periods of time, eyes gently grazing over his posture at that moment. He was surely comfortable as could be, shoulders hunching inwards ever so gently. There was a meager temptation from your part to move so you could be face to face with him but you doubted that he wanted that. You were fine next to him, you reassured yourself and swallowed hard. It was a sound that Noa noticed but didn't turn his attention to. Unwanted attention on you, in the past, has caused you to only run or flee from him. He figured he’d bid his time, patiently waiting for you. Your knees felt like they were on fire, calves were absolutely going to cause problems for you tomorrow. from sitting in the squat position for too long. You only lingered on that for a second though as his words finally hit you. ‘Babies?’
‘No,’ He was quick to respond, somehow knowing that his answer was going to calm you down. ‘Mature now, born few months ago. Fast development. Best age to hunt for them. Good meat.’
You nodded and processed what he was telling you. He was incredibly knowledgeable about this, showing off his skills at hunting with just words. How else would he know these things without actively doing it on a habitual basis? You swelled at that thought. That Noa was indeed a provider, a show off at times, but a provider none-the-less. Whomever he ended up with was going to be lucky to have that unwavering dedication which spurred your next inquiry. ‘Mate for life?’
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him when you signed that. Last time the conversation about mating happened, you ended up not speaking to each other for seven days. He was piqued in it regardless. Were you asking just to converse with him, or did you truly not know the answer? Either way, he considered himself invested and shut his eyes in thought. Tilting his head to the side, he sat his spear in front of him quietly, only cluttering as it shifted against the rock you two were perched on. You were just making a light conversation piece, Noa decided and he wanted to provide an honest answer.
‘No, many partners over time.’ He was using both hands to sign before he dropped his green orbs to rest on you. Not just on you, but it felt like he was crawling inside of your skin with his next set of words. ‘Not like Ape or Echo.’ Obviously, he meant it in the broadened terms. All Apes and all Echo’s. Not just the two of you. Shaking that idea out of your head, you nodded your head in understanding.
‘Mating is fast for them,’ Noa went on, just desperate at this point to continue on the path of conversing. He knew it was making you nervous, he could hear your heart beating, he could smell the sweat build up on your forehead, on your palms. One part of him deceivingly liked it, the knowledge that he could get you like this, but then there was the other oblivious side of him that didn't counteract his thoughts and he found himself continuing. ‘Have seen it. Only seconds. Female…’ Noa only spared you a slight glance.
Just as quickly as his eyes met yours, they were gone and he was looking out into the dense forest. Not at anything in particular, but he was surely searching. If you didn't know Noa already, know the nature of his personality, you would almost wager that he finally picked up on the validity of the conversation and he was turning back into his usually reserved self. This was not a topic he’d have chosen to talk about with you. The mating rituals of a… rabbit. He couldn’t stop himself though. He wanted this, wanted you to know this. Maybe if he kept going, you’d ask another question and he’d give you another answer. It was rare when the conversations took a turn and Noa got to tell you about his own knowledge, he thoroughly enjoyed listening to you. But… This moment you found yourself in, you were carefully processing what he was telling you like you life depended on it. Like… You depended on him.
‘Female will sit and take it. Many times to ensure conception.’ You nodded again and felt a tingle run down your spine. You attributed it to being crouched still. ‘Male will fall off after. Anaya thinks from being tired.’
Biting your tongue to keep yourself from snorting, you found it comfortable enough to joke around a bit, ‘Male humans are the same way. One, two maybe three good thrusts then,’ You paused and weren’t sure how to conclude. ‘We don’t mate for life anymore.’
‘For what then?’
It was a legitimate question and it left you wondering if Noa would understand the reason, if he would be accepting of the reason. As a whole, he was still incredibly on the fence about humans and you knew that. You were careful in your answers when he wanted to know something, a meager fear that saying something too outlandish would cause him to go quiet without understanding the human element and he never pressed your answers when they were not something he wanted to hear. He’d sit, reflect and come back if he had any remaining questions. He deserved your honesty though, he would brashly give you the same without any hesitation. You sighed and flexed your back, trying to figure out a delicate way to put your answer.
‘Pleasure?’ Noa’s fingers moved fast. Your mouth popped open at his absolute audacity. You had to remind yourself that he had no clue that this was a very deeply private thing to talk about. You had explained to him privacy here and there, and while he accommodated it in most aspects like giving you your own small nest, giving you space to bathe, giving you space with him to talk, there were just some things that pushed the boundaries of what you wanted to tell him. And surely sex, mating like that, like he was implying, was pushing that and you were right up against it. Noa must have recognized that he fumbled asking you that, or at least, phrasing it so… so primally. He raised his hand to sign an apology, but you were faster than him.
‘Hardly,’ You signed that hastily, hands now resting on your kneecaps. You rubbed there, almost relishing in the way it felt. ‘Not many can have children. We do it out of survival.’
Noa’s face dropped at that, eyes flicking between the side of your face and your body language, trying to read the expression you had but he was having a hard time. Has he… Has he seen you make this face before? He racked his brain but nothing came immediately to mind. You looked like someone just told you terrible news. Your face was long with something Noa didn't understand. Your eyes were hooded, looking at the ground. Pressing your arms around your body, Noa recognized that as a defensive tactic. He pushed it. Foolishly. You weren’t going to talk to him anymore about it, about how it was for you before he found you, if you had… Had ever mated.
But, maybe that was for the best! Quash it before he knew the answer, before his curiosity got the best of him. It was for the best, he kept repeating inside of his head, that he didn't know. That you didn't tell him someone else laid claim to you already. Running his teeth along his sharp canines, Noa turned with thought. He had done it without care. Asking you such a stupid, pointless, meaningless question as if he himself knew pleasure like that. He didn't even know what he was talking about when he asked! He didn't…Even…. Know… Would he ever? He had to wonder. Know what he was talking about, the implications of what he suggested?
His stare rested on you, the side of your face as you were trying to process everything that just transpired. You were avoiding eye contact, a tell-tale sign to the Ape that you were done chatting. A soft breeze hit the air around you, Noa diving almost face first into the smell that wafted off you, the bouncing of the small baby hairs on the top of your head, not as long as the rest but trying to get there and the picking of your fingers at the fabric that had bunched around your knees. It was asinine to think that he would ever know with you. And he was even more so to think about asking let alone actually doing it.
What was he expecting? An answer? You so flatteringly telling him you had never been with anyone, that you opened your arms to him to lay claim? An Ape of all creatures. He chuffed at that and broadened his shoulders. But, the thought of you with another, any other, made him feel a surge of aggression, resting too uncomfortably at the back of his head like he had been crouching his head down to look at something for too long. Quicker than lightning, Noa bared his teeth and picked up his spear. With a free hand, he gave you only one command.
‘Let’s go hunting.’
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 days
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I’ve been rereading you Royal Consort au and haven’t stopped thinking about it. I just know social media during that entire au was fucking insane
Dash Baxter opened his phone one school morning in his senior year after oversleeping for an hour—he may have worked out a little too hard, or he really did have a cold, like his mother claims—and was overwhelmed with messages from his friends.
They all say the same thing.
Have you seen this!?
Is it true?!
I can't believe this is happening!
Will we go to jail? I can't go to jail!
He scrolls through them with heavy confusion until, eventually, he clicks on the link Kwan sent him since the mention of jail seemed like a higher level of importance than whatever new gossip was going about.
Someone was likely pregnant. That was always what Pauline gossip the most about.
His best friend tended to catastrophize, so he figured it was better to help him calm down first.
The link takes him to a news clip showing a crowd of people surrounding a very familiar house. It wasn't the first time the Fentons had been on the news, but they were usually covered by local stations, and it was generally due to the damage the inventors had caused.
Dash knew they were only talked about when things were slow and a fluff story needed to be thrown in. Oh, back in freshman year, when ghosts first appeared, the Fentons were much more important, but now ghosts are a part of everyday life, and sometimes Dash forgot other cities didn't have the same issue.
Nothing the Fentons did was noteworthy, especially to have the Lois Lane covering their story. Yet, here in the palm of his hands, on the morning of a regular school day, he watched as Lois Lane did just that.
"Reporting live from Amity Park outside the residence of the Royal Consort to the Infinite Realms, I'm Lois Lane. Only a few minutes ago, the Justice League members- Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman- had entered the building hoping to speak to the Consort on a diplomatic mission. The tension between humans and the Realms has been at an all-time high since the Anti-Ecto Acts were passed. Although they were overturned in the last United Nations session, there has still been no comment from King Phantom and no guarantee that a war is not on the horizon." The woman says, holding her mic close to her face while the cameraman pans over the crowd of people outside of Fenton Works.
Dash feels like someone dumped iced water on him and then slapped him with a rubber fish. He is scared, confused, and a little offended. Still, the video continues as Ms. Lane explains the Realms, the political backlash the USA put the rest of the world in, and a brief overview of the humans' chances of winning if a war did break out (not high).
She then admits that their team had gotten a tip, claiming that the Consort has been married to King Phantom for the last three years, and despite not publicly announcing his title, he had all the power of his status.
He.
There were only two "he"s in the Fenton household and Dash knew for a fact Mr. Fenton would never cheat on his wife. Which left only one.
Oh gods.
As Ms.Lane speaks, the door to the house opens behind her, and the three high heroes of Earth outstep.
Along with Danny Fenton, who is squished between Wonder Woman and Superman with a flabbergasted expression, the crowd goes wild as Ms. Lane loudly shouts, "The Royal Consort, Daniel Fenton, husband to King Phantom, is being escorted by some of the most important members of the Justice League to a secondary location for peace negotiations. There is hope for humanity yet."
The clip ends with a close-up of Fenton's wide-eyed stare, which shows him looking terrified—the same expression he used whenever Dash cornered him to vent some of his frustrations.
Dash is left sitting in utter silence and rapidly growing horror. He had been mocking a royal, physically harming a royal, and, worst of all, he had been attacking Danny Phantom's husband, the same being who had been his personal hero for the last three years.
"I'm going to jail." He whispers "I'm so going to jail. Or I'm going to be executed. That happens to people who almost start wars right? Oh, gods."
The rest of the A-listers are panicking all over the city but not nearly as Dash Baxter, who was wondering how much time Fenton would give him for a head start.
It didn't help that Wes messaged Everyone on the basketball team with a gif of a dancing cat wearing sunglasses and the words "I TOLD YOU" in bright, bold colors.
He had repeatedly told them to leave Fenton alone. If they didn't, Phantom would retaliate, but no one had taken his word for it since the boy had originally claimed Phantom and Fenton were the same person.
Dash put his phone down and stared at the wall of his room. He liked that wall. It was covered in posters, pictures of his friends, memories of his best games, and now, with the floating shelves, his teddy bear collections.
He would likely never see it again.
"Oh gods"
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foreseersgaze · 3 days
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— On this note, I love Zayne's medical talk sooo much 🥺
— Every time Zayne talks about something nerdy he read in the library, or whenever he just randomly brings up facts about the heart or heart surgery I just have the worst urge to suck him off, so here's a little drabble about doing just that.
— 18+ only! MDNI!!!
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It's a lazy Sunday morning—one of those rare days where Zayne isn't working his ass off in the hospital, but of course, he chooses to spend his time reading up on one of his books specializing in knowledge of the heart while you sit next to him playing video games.
You hear a casual hmm, coming from him, and, curiously, you press the pause button on your controller and look over at him, peering over the pages of his book, wondering what he's so interested in.
Zayne flicks his gaze over to you, looking over the rims of his silver-lined glasses when you lean in so closely and he raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugs on the corners of his lips before closing his book, which makes you huff.
"You know you can ask what I'm reading instead of putting your nose quite literally into my book, right?" He quips, and you roll your eyes at his smart remark. You roll over onto your stomach and your legs move to dangle into the air while listening to him.
"Yeah, yeah... sorry for taking interest," you mutter before looking over at the cover of his book, which looks very familiar. You squint your eyes at the cover, recognizing that he's definitely read this book before. Now it's your turn to poke fun at him. "Besides, haven't you read this book already?" You retort, a small grin forming on your lips when you see him take off his glasses with an amused sigh.
"I have, actually. I'm just refreshing my mind on a few heart cancer facts," he replies, folding his glasses and hanging them over the collar of his shirt.
Your eyebrows raise at this; your interest is immediately piqued. You look up at him with wide eyes and you rest your chin on the palms of your hands while dangling your feet into the air, already wanting to listen intently.
"Oh? Do share them with me, Dr. Zayne." You smirk, and you can feel a rush of warmth going to the apples of your cheeks when Zayne begins to talk about a few facts that he knows that might interest you.
"Well, did you know that heart cancer is extremely rare? In fact, it's so rare that we at the Asko Hospital see a case of heart cancer once per year..."
You continue to listen to Zayne talk, watching his every move. His eyes avoid yours, just staring at the TV, looking at the paused video game screen while he talks, and every now and then, his gaze will shift back to yours to see if you're still listening to him, which, of course you are. You can't help but not listen, always finding his vast knowledge of the heart extremely sexy.
While he talks, one of your hands mindlessly begins to wander up and down his thigh, just keeping your eyes on him. He feels this, so his gaze turns to yours and he raises an eyebrow, figuring you're up to something, but he's not sure what. He pauses.
"...What do you think you're doing?" He asks, his eyes narrowing on your hand before his green eyes flick over to your eyes, trying to read your mind. He has a good guess on what you're trying to do, but, he's not quite sure since you're clearly still showing interest in his heart knowledge.
You can't help but giggle in reply. "Nothing. Just keep talking."
Zayne hesitates for a moment, but he goes on anyway. "...Right. So, anyway, still, other cancers can spread to your heart, but..." He resumes talking, and your gaze is still focused on his lips, listening eagerly to every single word he says while your hand slowly slides up his thigh, and starts palming at the growing erection in his pajama bottoms, which quickly makes him stop talking as he lets out a groan and heavy breath.
"W-What... what are you..." He groans again, and he looks down at your hand as you palm him through his clothes. He wants to capture your wrist and turn the tide on you, but as waves of pleasure fill him, he realizes why exactly you're doing this.
"Keep talking, Zayne," you say, looking up at him with those sweet, pretty eyes of yours, blinking innocently as if your hand is still underneath your chin and not palming his hard dick through his pajamas.
He huffs, his nose turning a slight pink and a slight grin appears on his face.
"Really? You want me to keep talking?" Amusement is thick in his voice when he notices his realization is correct. "It seems you truly are interested in what I have to say," he says lowly, as he brings a hand down to cup your face gently, a calloused thumb swipes over your bottom lip which makes you immediately heat up.
You nod slowly, and, moving away from his hand, you climb over to lay between Zayne's legs and gently pull on the drawstrings of his pajama bottoms so you can pull them down. You grin when you see the hard imprint of his dick in his underwear—knowing your touches worked while he was talking—so you gently pull his underwear down too and let out an amused hum when he's fully erect in front of you, long and thick, with veins at the base of his dick that make your mouth water.
"Yes, yes, now keep talking," you urge while taking him in your hand, wanting him to keep talking not only because you genuinely find it so interesting, but also because for some reason, it makes you so fucking horny to hear him talk about this.
Zayne huffs at this, wanting to engage in having sex with you and be present in this, but, since you keep insisting, he gives in since you clearly love it so much.
"Fine..." He sighs, continuing from earlier. "...Other cancers can... fuck." His breath escapes lowly from his throat when you suddenly surprise him by gently sucking on his tip, just hardly suckling on it while your tongue flicks on it gently.
You look up at him while sucking on it, keeping those wide eyes of interest on him, making him realize that he needs to continue to keep your mouth on him.
"O-Other cancers can metastasize, or spread, to your heart, but cancer doesn't usually form within the heart itself..." He gets more breathy as you suck harder with every word, and a deft hand goes to grip your hair, wanting to guide you down his cock, but he lets you suck him off how you want, keeping his hand still and firm in your hair. "...A-And treatments like chemotherapy that look for... ah, damn." He grunts when he feels you suddenly suck harder on his tip.
He takes in a sharp inhale, hating how good you are with your mouth, because he's feeling close already. He swallows thickly, continuing.
"...For malignancies that can damage the heart's tissue..." He groans, and his long fingers grip your hair even tighter which makes you hum against his tip, focusing more on the underside of that sensitive spot, making him grunt. "...You know, if you keep this up, you're going to make me cum," he says almost bluntly before groaning again when you hallow your cheeks around him.
"Damn... I... and, heart cancer results from the tumor angiosarcoma..." He continues to get more breathy and he grunts, gripping your hair tightly when you finally move that tongue of yours on his sensitive tip, making him throb and quickly release ropes of his hot, white cum into your mouth. He takes deep breaths when he finishes, his head falling back against the headboard of the bed, and you pull away, grinning once you swallow all of his cum.
He's silent for a bit, trying to catch his breath before he looks over at you with a grin.
"Did you know studies also show that men who have sex twice a week or more are less likely to develop heart disease?"
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starsofang · 2 days
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Headbanger
Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Summary: John loves his goth girlfriend. TW: NSFW, MDNI, oral sex, dirty talk, p in v sex, this is honestly freaky nasty Collab with @141wh0re!! <3 Will link her version when it's posted! A/N: collab with the lovely skelly, who loves the idea of john with a goth girlfriend just as much as me that we decided to collab on it and write about it :p i do plan on writing another version of this with a dom goth girlfriend bc that idea has me going insane, but for now, i hope you enjoy this because it's a doozy. title inspired by babymetal bc i love them
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You threw John into a complete whirlwind when you first came into his life. It was totally unexpected, meeting you, but what was more unexpected was how attracted he was from the very beginning. You were like nothing he’d ever seen before, painted in heavy-set makeup with thickly layered eyeliner, fluttering lashes, and that black lipstick that had him holding on to the last bit of his sanity.
Now, whenever he’d seen pretty women like you who had a love for unique clothing and makeup, always adorned in various accessories and clothing that would cause heads to turn, he often brushed it to the back of his mind because really, what would a boring, old military man like him be doing with lovely goddesses like those?
The two of you clicked though, the dynamic quickly blossoming into a relationship that had John feeling alive again. Sure, he wasn’t an old man (as much as his task force loved to label him as one), but you had a youthful spirit that seemed to smooth out the stress lines on his face from years of grueling battles and hard-earned wins. It was like you were reminding him of how to live life again, rather than let it smother him until he couldn’t breathe.
You were also teaching him that he still had it in him to pop a boner every time he was remotely in your vicinity.
You were cooking up a meal in the kitchen? Hard.
You were lounging on the couch with your feet propped up in his lap? Hard.
You were sitting in front of the mirror, humming along to a song playing from your phone while you did your makeup? Painfully fucking hard.
It was the most mundane things you did that had him nearly pouncing on you like a dog in heat, but who could blame him, really? Besides, it’s not like you minded. You were just as bad as him.
Oftentimes, you’d wear something that you knew would get him riled up. You found that his particular favorite was when you’d strap on a tight corset around your waist, especially the ones that had dainty chains hanging loosely from it. Or, when you’d wear a choker, the thick leather strapped to your neck like a dog collar. John was barely able to restrain himself when you did yourself up like that.
Just like today, you could already see him out of the corner of your eye, silently watching you with tense fists resting in his lap while you finished up in the mirror. His eyes never left you, tracing over the sight of your steady hands carving out the shape of your lips with black lipstick, nor did they leave you when you stood up to enter the closet, tugging out a few clothing options to garner his opinion.
Holding up one of the dresses in your hold to show it off to him, you pretended to ignore the way his expression darkened into something more hungry.
“You think this one will look alright for tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in question as you gauged his response.
John decided it was time for you to meet his boys as he called them, the ones who kept him upright when he’d leave for an extended period of time on a mission, and you wanted to look your best. After all, impressions mattered, even more so when your style didn’t necessarily appeal to all societal standards – though, John wanted you to go as you are, unashamed of the way he could flaunt his goth-loving girlfriend like a trophy on a shelf.
John’s eyes fluttered over to the dress you held up before flicking back to you. “Mm. I like that one.”
You hummed in response, feigning ignorance to the way his voice seemed a bit more sultry, more strangled. He watched as you flipped up another dress option, silently asking for a second opinion, and the way his eyes narrowed didn’t go unnoticed. Of course, the second dress was one of his favorites, with the way it hugged your body while simultaneously cascading a nice flow of fabric that made you look even more entrancing to him. Like a goddess on Earth, and him a mere mortal who was starstruck.
“Playin’ a dangerous game here, love,” he gritted out, and you grinned at him, cocking your head.
“Your opinions are important to me, John.”
John released a breath, glancing back over to the dress, silently thinking. “That one,” he announced, jabbing his head in the direction of the second option. “So long as I can take it off of you by the end of the night.”
You raised an eyebrow at his implications, stalking over to where he sat on the bed to place the mesh of fabric down beside him. “Well, that’s always in the cards,” you mused. “Or you could be a doll and help me put it on for now.”
John groaned low under his breath, leaning back on his hands as they pressed into the soft foam of the mattress. He stared up at you with a look of adoration mixed with starved famish, and it sent heat waves through your entire body. He looked at you like you were his favorite meal while also as if you were the heavens above.
“What’s the use in puttin’ it on when I prefer you with it off?” he grumbled, hands coming up to grab hold of your hips now that you stood in front of him. He gently tugged you forward, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, fingers carding through his hair.
“Because your boys are expecting us. Your plans, by the way,” you teased, your long fingernails gently scratching at the back of his head, eliciting a low moan under his breath.
“M’sure they won’t mind waitin’ a bit,” he grumbled. You snickered in amusement, lightly gripping his hair to tilt his head back, peering down at him with a spark of interest. He smiled up at you, hands slipping off of your hips to instead wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap. “Too pretty of a woman to not want to ruin anyway.”
“I just did my makeup,” you protest, only for him to grin wider.
“That’s the whole point, sweetheart.” John leaned his head into your neck, tickling you with his beard and tracing his lips over your soft skin, pressing longing kisses along the column. You breathed out through your nose at the sensation. “Fuckin’ love the way you do it. Seeing you get all dolled up, god, makes me want to devour you. Such a pretty girl, you are.”
You let out a low hum, eyes fluttering shut as you tilted your head to grant him more access to your neck. His lips trailed along the snug leather that was seated along your neck, his hand coming up to tuck two fingers underneath it and pull you impossibly closer to him.
Chokers were one of his favorites specifically because of its uses. He’d play a game of tug of war with himself, taking advantage of the smooth collar to guide you in ways he wanted you. More importantly, he loved having it live up to the name in effortlessly choking you on occasion.
“Don’t know what a geezer like me did to settle with a woman like you,” he murmured against your skin before promptly pulling back to gaze up at you, eyes heavy with lustful desire.
John’s words sent warmth right down to your core, his praise turning you into an easy puddle of mush. You couldn’t help but shift on his lap in uncontained eagerness, lips parting as you stared at him. His eyes flickered down before leaning forward to take your bottom lip between both of his, giving a teasing suck before pulling back with a grin.
“Goin’ to let me take you, sweetheart?” His voice was hushed and alluring, breath fanning over your face. “Hm? Ruin that pretty makeup of yours just how you always like it?”
Your breath hitched and you were unable to pry your eyes away from his. His gaze was like a scorching burn that singed every inch of your skin.
“I’ll have to redo it if you do that,” you weakly argued, but he could see right through you.
“Never cared about it before,” he retorted right back, and you silently cursed him. John knew just how to rile you up and make you pliant, and unfortunately for you, it was working once again.
As if to persuade you further, he returned to his previous torment on your neck, dipping down to place them along the skin of your chest that peeked out beneath your sleep shirt you had yet to change out of. After all, it wasn’t like he had allowed you the chance to dress properly – yet.
John’s hands trailed up your sides and to your breasts, lightly groping them through the fabric of your shirt. You were a goner just from that, and there was no possible way you were going to deny his request, even if it meant being late to meeting his task force.
A protesting whine was on the tip of your tongue when he let go of them, sliding his hands back down your bottom and instead resting back on your hips, index fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips brushed along your skin, sending a shiver down your spine and an ache to form between your legs.
“Maybe just a quick one won’t hurt,” you reasoned, resulting in a hearty chuckle from him.
“Just a quick one,” he agreed before finally grasping the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. With your tits now free, he wasted no time in returning to circling his palms around the fat of them, head dipping down to take one of your nipples in between his lips. Upon contact, he let out a satisfied groan, sending muted vibrations through your body and causing you to whimper softly.
One of your hands tangled itself back into his hair, eagerly pressing him further into your breast, holding him there. He continued to suck greedily, occasionally taking you in between his teeth to lightly bite down, sending flutters in your stomach.
With one of his large hands keeping your breast firmly in place so he could continue his attack with his mouth, the other brushed down your nude sides, calloused fingers rough against the smoothness of your skin. They continued downward until reaching the waistline of your pants, some cute pajamas he’d given you a while back adorned with skulls (because they reminded him of you, of course).
He teased you, barely slipping his fingertips beneath the elastic band.
“John,” you whined. He pulled off of your breast with a small pop, giving you a smug look. “You said it would be a quick one.”
“Did I say that?” he hummed, pressing sloppy kisses along your chest, purposefully avoiding your perk nipples. “Sorry, sweetheart. Tend to lose a bit of my memory when I catch a glimpse of you.”
You snorted at his obvious teasing, opening your mouth to retort before you were promptly cut off by his fingers finally sliding into your waistband, eager to cup your cunt and slip up along your slit. A surprised gasp escaped you, and he grinned against your skin.
“Mm,” he groaned quietly, fingers delving underneath your panties so he could get a feel of the wetness coating them. “Don’t know how you expect me to be quick when you’re this fuckin’ wet. Makes me want to take my time with you.”
His middle finger felt through the warm slick before fixating on your clit, giving it an experimental roll. It caused your mouth to drop open, eyes fluttering. Instant heat flooded from your cunt, pulsating you with an aching burn. His ring finger joined his middle, circling your clit with a skilled routine.
“M’sure you want me to take my time, too, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked mockingly. You gazed at him through hooded eyelids before nodding dumbly, already tipsy off of his mere touch. “Thought so.”
His pace on your clit was steady and slow. Agonizing, unfulfilling, just enough to keep you on the edge of a crumbling cliff, but not enough to have you free falling. He loved working you into a messy turmoil, slowly breaking you until you were pleading for more. Ruining you.
All thoughts of having to get proper for meeting the boys were thrown out of the window the moment he swirled your clit in delicious ways, having you squirming for more in his lap, attempting to grind down on his hand. The whole time, he wore a devilish grin, taking in the way your mouth filtered out pleased sighs and gasps, the black lipstick staining your lips only adding fuel to the fire.
He wanted to see it smeared and messy, glossed over with your spit, wanted to see it smothering his body. It was an ache he needed to relieve.
“Y’know what I really want, sweetheart?” John asked, and you hummed in acknowledgement. “To see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
You moaned breathlessly, your hips lazily grinding down on his fingers as they tormented your clit. “It’s gonna stain.”
“Good.”
Much to your dismay, he removed his fingers from your pants, giving your hip a soft pat before you found yourself kneeling in front of him, his thighs spread, cock uncomfortably tight in his trousers. He leaned back, resting on his hands, staring down at your position with red hot desire. There was no mistaking his arousal from how he looked at you like you were his holy grail. He’d get on his own knees and pray to you if he could.
You eagerly fumbled with the buckle of his belt, working nimble fingers on his button and zipper. He watched with intensity, eyes focused on the black color that coated your nails with red and white designs as decoration. They were ones he paid for you to get done himself, with the exception of his initial painted on one of your fingers.
Your eyes shifted up to look at him while he lifted his hips so you could tug his pants down enough to tug him out of his boxers, and he nearly finished at the sight of you, long, fake eyelashes fluttering up at him. You were like an enticing siren, luring him into deep pools of black, dragging him down the bottomless pit. He’d happily let you, too.
John’s hand reached out to cup the back of your head, gently guiding you forward. You took in the sight of his cock, hard and thick, the tip flushed an angry red with a bead of precum pebbling at the slit. It was a mouthwatering sight.
You instinctively parted your lips to dart your tongue out, taking in the bitter sweetness of his preseed, enticing a groan from him. His fingers tightened in your hair, keeping you in a firm grip. It encouraged you to take him fully in your mouth, suckling lightly on the tip.
Allowing saliva to pool in your mouth for an easier glide, you slipped further down his cock, taking him halfway before pulling back up and releasing him. The tint of his skin was faintly colored by the lipstick you wore, but you knew John wanted more, wanted to see himself completely ruined by it.
John’s eyes fluttered down to take a look at his cock, his hand remaining in your hair. He let out a hum of approval. “Go on. Make a mess of my cock, hm?”
The tone of his voice was pure sin, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrapped your hand fully around his cock, keeping him steady to feed him back into your mouth. The taste of him burst on your tastebuds, and you found yourself seeking more of it, the mix of musk and soap from the shower he’d taken not too long ago.
Dipping your head deeper, you took as much as him as you could in your mouth before setting an easy pace. You let the hand in your hair tug you up and down, making sure to relax your throat when his hips began to shallowly buck into the sensation of your warmth.
“Fuck, look at you,” he cooed, voice raspy and heavenly. “Such a pretty girl, takin’ it so well.”
You hummed around him, and the feeling made him groan, head falling back.
The more you went down on him, the more drool pooled around your lips, dribbling down your chin. It was a messy work of art, your lipstick smudging around his cock as well as the corners of your mouth, just like he wanted. It coated him with smeared black, leaving streaks behind with every bob of your head.
His groans and grunts filled your ears like sweet melodies, becoming more strangled and raspy ghe more he succumbed to your notions. Eager to hear more, you slid further down until your nose tickled along the pubes that lined his pelvis, throat relaxing around him enough to allow him the intrusion.
“Fuck,” he moaned, gripping your hair tighter and pressing you into him impossibly closer, bucking up into you and causing you to gag. His eyes found yours from where you were swallowed around his dick, darkened with heated want. “That’s it. Take all of it.”
You were eager to please, so you continued, pulling back to suckle the tip just to fall back down to the base. His hips began thrusting up to match your pace, fucking your face while maintaining gentleness as not to hurt you (though, you wouldn’t mind that either, nor would it be the first time he did it).
You could tell from the way his thighs tensed and flexed, and the way his hand tangled your hair in a vice, that he was beginning to unravel. Heat pooled into his abdomen, his cock twitching in your mouth.
Your eyes locked with his, eyelashes fanning up prettily. Your lipstick was ruined, plastering all around his dick like a drunken painting, stalking a claim on him.
John let out a shuddered groan, hips bucking up one last time before his cum spilled down your throat, forcing you to swallow it down. It was a bitter taste that you couldn’t get enough of, greedily taking it for yourself.
You only pulled away when it became too stimulating for him, his hand guiding you off and loosening its grasp. You waited patiently for him to catch his breath, planting a sloppy kiss on his muscled thigh, tattooing a lipstick mark on it to match his cock.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he gasped out, staring down at you with a dazed smile. His hand reached out to brush his thumb along your glossy bottom lip, smudging a bit of the lipstick further, or at least what remained of it. “C’mon, it’s your turn, yeah? God, just want to ruin you.”
You sucked in a sharp breath when he helped you stand from your knees and to your feet, only to press you right down on the mattress, bent over with your ass perked up for him.
His fingers slipped under the waistline of your pants and shimmied you out of them, leaving you bare and exposed. The sight of you caused him to sigh blissfully, a large hand groping one of your asscheeks and spreading you apart to see the glistening wetness waiting for him.
“Fuckin’ wet, aren’t you, doll? Bet you don’t even need any prep, think you can take me now?”
You whined pathetically, arching a bit more for him to admire the display, head resting comfortably on your crossed arms. You gave him a lazy nod in response, wiggling a bit more.
The pads of his fingers slid through your slick, spreading it along your puffy lips, creating an even bigger mess than before.
They didn’t linger for long before you felt the head of his cock slip through, lubing himself up with your own wetness, occasionally catching on to your clit and causing you to gasp and squirm. A firm hand smacked across your ass, drawing a whimper from you.
“Sit still. Got to make it quick, remember, sweetheart?”
You couldn’t care less about being late to meeting his force. Now that you were desperate to feel the fullness of him inside your weeping walls, it was the last thing on your mind.
Finally, the head of his cock pressed past your first ring of muscle, making your mouth drop open and the breath to get caught in your throat. He pressed more and more, filling you up until it was nearly too much, his hips rested against your ass.
“Fuck, there we go. Such a pretty thing,” he cooed, pulling his hips back just to press back into you with a shallow thrust. It was too much, while not enough. “Sorry ‘bout the makeup, sweetheart.”
You opened your mouth to reply before the words were forced back in when he snapped his hips at a more brutal pace, leaving you speechless and cockdrunk.
John took no mercy on you, meaning it when he said he’d make it quick. He fucked into you with a grueling burn of desire, jolting your body with every thrust, surging you further up the bed. When he felt you slipping away from you, he dipped two fingers under the choker around your neck from behind, tugging you back and holding you up for him to use freely, the leather digging into your throat deliciously.
You released whiny, strangled moans, filling the room with intoxicating noise that filtered through his ears and lit up a fire in his body. Tears began to form along your lash line, dripping down your cheeks and streaking your makeup in a messy trail of black eyeliner and mascara.
You looked absolutely wrecked.
“Good fuckin’ girl, look at you,” he praised, keeping his fingers around your choker but leaning over your backside so he could get a view of your face, grinning devilishly at the sight. “Beautiful.”
“John,” you gasped out, voice broken and shaky, resulting in a smug snicker on his end.
“Yeah, sweetheart? Like bein’ ruined by me, hm?”
You nodded dumbly, mind completely blank of anything other than his cock as it plunged in and out, knocking the wind out of you.
He chuckled again, tightening his grip on the choker and forcing you to arch impossibly more, slapping his hips into the plush of your ass and feeding into the red hot need you’re seeking.
The muscles in your stomach tightened, threatening to snap at any moment. It felt good, so good it had you moaning out his name without so much of a care at how loud you were being.
It only egged him on, releasing his own raspy moans and grunts. Sweat beaded his eyebrow, dripping down the side of his face as he focused on giving you all of him and more.
Simmering heat built into a bushfire, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long. You were teetering on the edge, and as if he knew it, he picked up the pace, causing you to clench around him, sucking him in with a tight grip.
“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, smoothing his hand that wasn’t gripping your choker up your back and worming its way to your front, plucking one of your nipples between his fingertips. It sent a jolt through you, even more so when that same hand dipped down to circle your clit with his cock rutting into you.
Your orgasm hit you like a truck, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your cunt squeezed around him, his hips stuttering and pace becoming sloppy at the sensation, before a long moan left his lips. Warmth flooded inside of your cunt, painting your walls white and leaving you full.
Heavy breaths left both of you, gasping for air. John slowly pulled out of you, brushing his thumb against your cunt and marveling at the white cum that threatened to seep out.
“Think we’ll still be late?” he asked cheekily, and you let out a breathy laugh, reaching an arm back to gently push him away.
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You were, in fact, late. Having to redo your makeup and throw together an outfit, decorating your look with your normal display of jewelry and accessories, you ended up at the bar roughly twenty minutes after the original meeting time.
John tugged you inside, seemingly unbothered by your shared carelessness, introducing you to his boys with a proud smile. He didn’t hesitate to drag you along to the bar for some drinks after a brief conversation, hand resting on your lower back in a show of possession.
“Didn’t know Cap was into goth chicks,” Gaz muttered in disbelief, eyes staring the two of you down and taking in your unique clothing and otherworldly makeup choice.
“Shit, I might have to hop on the fuckin’ train,” Soap murmured in awe, earning a sharp kick to his shin from Ghost beneath the table.
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myfeetrcolddd · 1 day
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Boundaries? Never heard of them.
Growing up with Theo had desensitized you to things, like how he was always holding your hand, or how he insisted on cuddling anytime you were to sit down on a couch together, or how he would kiss you on the cheek hello or goodbye, except the kiss was hardly on your cheek and right at the corner of your mouth.
Sure, you were aware how the relationship between the two of you was not the average one of two best friends, but you didn't really mind it. You had gotten used to it, it felt weird to even think about things between the both of you being any different.
It was only when Theo got a girlfriend did you realize things would have to change, much to your dismay, and to Theo's too apparently.
"What'd you mean I can't hold your hand anymore?" Theodore looked taken nearly offended as he said those words, his face twisting in confusion and distaste.
"Theo, you have a girlfriend now." You say, wrapping your arms around your middle uncomfortably. "We can't just hold hands all the time, or at all."
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Next thing I know you're going to tell me we can't cuddle during movie nights or when I sleep over."
"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you!" You exclaim, tired from having to reiterate the same thing over and over. "And from now on we shouldn't even be sleeping in the same bed at sleep overs, if your girlfriend would even be comfortable with us having sleepovers"
"You're being ridiculous, Angel, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
"I'm being serious, Theo, I'm setting boundaries now that you've got a girlfriend, and another thing on that list is calling me Angel." Theodore frowned harder(if that was even possible) looking taken aback by your words and down right offended.
"Boundaries? Not calling you a name I've called you since we were kids?" Theo took a step closer, which was really a problem since he had already been to close to begin with. Now he towered over you more than usual, bringing his hands up he rested them on your neck, his thumbs coming up over your jaw as he held your face close to his. His eyes were narrowed and scanning your face as though looking for something, "Has someone casted a charm on you? Maybe some potion. Either way, you're being weird and I don't like it."
"I'm being weird?! I'm not being weird!" You insisted, and you knew you should shove his hands off you, push him away or take a step back...but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You'd always liked his touch much more than a friend should. "Y-you're the weird one! Thinking we could continue as we are while you have a girlfriend."
"Why would we change anything?" He asked, as though he was truly confused. "I like the way things are between us."
"Well I can't imagine your girlfriend likes the way things are. I'm sure that if I had a boyfriend he wouldn't like how things are." You had mumbled the last part under your breath, an after thought to your previous sentence, still Theo heard it and his confusion and annoyance turned to something darker.
"Boyfriend?" He questioned, his voice low and more gravely that usual. "What's you having a boyfriend got to do with anything? You, you don't have one do you? No boy here is good enough for you, and I wouldn't change my ways for some sleaze like him."
Theos words had been harsh, a sharp edge to them as he spoke, he'd never spoken like that before, at least not to you. It was odd, he seemed mad at the thought of you having a boyfriend, outraged even, the emotions just simmering beneath the surface.
"No, Theo, I don't have a boyfriend," He looked to deflate a little at this, relaxing slightly, "It's not like I could have gotten one anyway, everyone thought we were dating from the way we acted, and it didn't help that you practically growled at any guy that would try to come up to me." You scoff, annoyed but Theo seemed the opposite, his lips quirking up in a small smirk.
"Was that so bad though? It's not like any of them were good enough for your attention anyways." His hands slid from your neck down to your waist as he seemed to pull you closer.
"Look, we're getting off track. We need to set some boundaries." You press your hands against his chest and push him off you gently, he seems to allow this and walks back a few steps before taking a seat on the edge of your bed and staring up at you. You blushed slightly from the way he was looking at you.
Theo groaned and rolled his eyes, "I still don't see why we need those."
"Because you have a girlfriend for crying out loud!" You say, exasperated form having to repeat yourself, "How would you feel if your girlfriend, the girl you like, had a friend that was overly touchy and clingy and borderline cheating on you with him?"
This seemed to stump him, "The girl I like?" He muttered to himself, then his eyes trailed back to you and his jaw clenched. "No...no I wouldn't like that at all."
"See! That's what I mean. That's likely what your girlfriend is feeling about how we are with each other." But Theo didn't seem like he was really listening at this point.
Inside his head, a switch had flipped for him and he realized something. His eyes widening, lips parting, and cheeks heating up slightly and he turned to look up at you through his eye lashes.
"Shit." He murmured, staring at you and his pupils seemed to dilate. It was like he was seeing you in a whole new light, you were as beautiful as you ever were, the same angel he thought you were all those years ago, but now he realized it was so much more than looked with you. And he was stupid to think this was how best friends were with each other.
Really, could he be any more daft? Standing up, he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting it's prey. He didn't stop until he was closer than before, his hands cradling your head on each side and pulling you close.
His face was right above yours, your noses nearly touching and your breaths mingling. "I'm an idiot." He muttered, his eyes getting lost in yours. "A stupid and blind idiot." His forehead dropped down to yours and he closed his eyes. "And I'm sorry."
Before you could register what was going on his lips were on yours, his hands holding your head tightly against his as he kissed you. You had tried your best not to give in, but you couldn't help yourself because it was the one boy you had liked all your life, finally kissing you, and like his life depended on it at that.
So, you kissed him back, arms twining around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer. One of your hands threaded through the hair on the back of his head and you gripped it tightly and he groaned before kissing you harder.
Then, as fast as it had begun, it ended. He pulled away, cheeks blotchy and red and pupils so big you could hardly see the blue green color of his eyes. "I'm going to fix this. Then I'll be right back." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, "Don't leave." And then another kiss and then he was gone, your dorm door slamming shut behind him as you stood in stunned silence.
A hand lifted to your face and I gently touched your lips, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and your mind was reeling. That wasn't how things were supposed to go...at all.
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petew21-blog · 1 day
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Bad dog
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"No! Bad! Bad dog... bad boy!" jesus, now he's drinking water from the puddle. If anybody sees this I don't know how I'm gonna be explaining this
You see. The guy drinking from the puddle is... my bestfriend Finn. We have been the best mates since forever. I have been in love with him platonically, but he was definitely straight. I think he knows about me being gay, but he never asked and I never had the guts to tell him.
Today we went to the park. He brought along his dog, Max. Max is the cutest Dobrman I know. Most of the time his is cautious, alert and protecting Finn, but when he is with us, he is enjoying the attention I give him. I always rub him behind his ear, but what he loves the most are belly rubs.
We were just sitting on the ground at the edge of the park. No one in sight. Finn was shirtless, just in his shorts. I was a bit suspicious that he was commando, by the visibility of his bulge. Not like it would mean anything to me. Max was happy as always. Finn was pensive and then kept talking about his new girl crush which I didn't really pay much attention too. Not like he does pay attention to anything I say. He noticed me, not listening and said:"You might as well spend time just with him. You're completely ignoring me today."
"Max here is actually appreciating me and being a great friend. Maybe you two should exchange places." I said jokingly
But out of nowhere. Max dropped down growled and started barking at the two of us. He never did that. I was a bit scared to be honest, but he didn't seem like he would attack us. At the corner of my eye, I also noticed Finn running away from us, dropping down his shorts.
"Where the fuck are you going?! Finn!!! Come back"
He was running around. Completely naked. I looked around, but there were still no people in sight, thankfully. What would they think if they saw him now. What has gotten into him?
Now he got on the ground and grabbed a branch. With his teeth. Has he gone completely mental? Then I realised. That's not possible. I said that as a joke. But when I look at Max, who was now nodding his head, I froze. No way. The really exchanges bodies.
Finn now headed towards the puddle to drink from it. It was funny to see my bestfriend act like a dog, but if I let him keep going, he would hurt his owner's body.
"Bad! Bad dog... bad boy! Stop it!" he stopped, looked at me and ran away from the puddle and headed back to the tree where we sat originally. He must be slowly figuring it out that he is human now. Because he started using his hands as a human would. Swinging from branches and so on. Not like feet.
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I ran to him. Grabbed the shorts he took of and tried to get them on him. The best I could do was to get them just above his ankles. He sat down and sticked out his tongue and started hyperventilating. Some manners are harder to let go off, I guess.
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"Ok, Max. I know that's you. Do you understand me? Please try to say yes"
"A bark-like noise came out of his throat."
"No, Max. You have to use your voice now. You're a human. Say yes or no. Do you understand?"
After some bad attemps he managed to say:"yy..... yes"
"Good boy. Now. I need you to stop running ok? You are Finn now and Finn wouldn't do that. You have to act like a human now. Ok?"
"No" he answered, but sounded more confident now. He stopped hyperventilating and sat up
"Max. Please don't make this hard for me." as I spoke to Max, I also noticed that Finn has disapeared. Fuck, another problem to solve.
He hesitated and then started speaking:"You want Max. Not Finn. I Finn now"
"No Max. I like both of you. You are his very good dog and he is my very good friend. I love you both and I want you two to be ok."
"I am both now. Good dog and good Finn"
"Max... It's not like that"
"You can rub me like before. On the belly. Please"
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Fuck. What the hell do I do? I am horny as fuck to have any experience with Finn, but this feels wrong. So wrong that I was now watching my own body getting closer to Max and rubbing his abs. And by the look in his eyes and now even a smile, I think he likes it. As I was slowly enyoing his well sculpted abs, his dick was getting hard. He definitely noticed, bcause he now tried to get over my leg to hump me.
"No, Max. Stop. Humans do this diferently than dogs. You're human now"
"I saw Finn with a girl many times. I'll do what she did to him." he got over me and unzipped my pants. How the fuck did he get the hang of being a human so soon? He licked his lips and took out my hard dick. I can't believe my wildest dreams are about to become real. He put his lips over the head of my cock and got down. His hand gripping the base of my dick. His other hand got my hand and he squeezed it. Did he just think about that or was this inside Finn's mind? Like some sort of muscle memory. This is amazing. I shot my load really quickly inside of his mouth. I wasn't used to being blowed. Like... ever
He got back on his back and said:"Do me now." I didn't take a second to think about it. I kissed his pecks, my left hand grpping his dick and jerking it. My right carefully protecting his abs form being alone without my touch. I smelled his armpits. He smelled just the way I was used to. I loved his smell. And I could now smell and even lick his hairy armpits. He was welcoming me to do that. Fucking amazing
I started sucking him off. He worked his ass like a pro and kept thrusting into my mouth, his hand in my hair, gripping it. Fucking amazing I tell you. He shot the cum in my mouth and I swallowed it entirely.
I just gave blow job to Finn. I was mesmerized that I looked at Finn and started making ouit with him. He returned the favour and kiss me back. Very passionately.
We were interrupted by the park guard, holding the leash with Max on the other end.
Ok, so we might have a lifelong ban to enter the park, but this day brought us some new experiences. First of all, I got to suck the man of my dreams and now it seems we'll be doing way. Second, Finn probably remembers being a human, but sometimes his animal urges take over. On the way back home he even tried to run after a squirrel. Crazy right?
And third of all, Max really enjoys being human. He really got the hang of it and now is doing an amazing job being Finn. And he is a very romantic boyfriend.
What is weird is his afinity for the Dobrman's. Like today he said he borught one of his friends he knows from the park. He spoke to the dog whole afternoon. But as long as I get to have my new boyfriend, I don't really care
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Wait? Do you think they might think about swapping the other dog with someone too? That would be cool, having two great ex-dog friends. Well, depends on who are they gonna choose as the next person.
"Oh, hey Max. What are you...?" and then darkness
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endelineinwonderland · 12 hours
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Let The Light In: Part 8
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
Words: 2.5K
Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn
A/N: One step forward, ten steps back! :)
Even though you’d been stuck in a shoot today you had heard that it had been a beautiful day for February in Connecticut, a time when the skies are usually grey, and the streets are usually blanketed in a heavy layer of snow. The unexpected warmth, you decide, likely explained why the local ice cream parlor was bustling with people, their laughter and chatter spilling out onto the streets.
People were out in droves, couples, families, and groups of friends taking advantage of the unseasonable warmth. You sit in the car next to Paige, the both of you watching the scene unfold with matching expressions of confusion. 
“Now probably isn’t the best time for Paige Bueckers to show up, huh?”
Paige shrugs, a small smile playing at her lips. "I mean, it’ll probably be fine. It’s not like I’m with the whole team or anything. I might get stopped once, but I doubt it." She sounds confident, but you notice the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers tap restlessly on the steering wheel.
You glance nervously forward, watching as a group of girls enter the store, shedding off their coats to reveal that at least 3 of them had t-shirts emblazoned with the 'UConn WBB' logo just as Paige finished speaking. Almost as if they’d been summoned by the sound of her voice, and you let out a dry chuckle and tried to suppress immediate feelings of déjà vu from the conversation you had at the café a few months ago. When everything had truly fallen apart.
"Well, there goes that plan," your eyes flicking between the group and Paige. You silently prayed that none of them would glance over and discover the star player sitting right outside.
With a resigned sigh, the blonde leans back against the driver's seat. Her shoulder brushing against yours in the cramped space, she reaches into the pocket of her jeans and pulls out her wallet, fishing out her credit card and handing it to you, disappointment written all over her face. “We can still get ice cream if you want to run in for us. We might just be stuck eating it in the car.” 
You accepted the card (despite having no intention of using it), taking it from Paige's extended hand with a small nod. "The usual for you?" Paige rolls her eyes in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Duh.”
The moment you return to the car, clutching two plastic cups filled with two generous scoops of ice cream, Paige quickly springs out to open the passenger door for you. Taking her order and the unused credit card from your outstretched hand, settling back into the car with a smile.
Without even thinking about it, she automatically digs her spoon into your cup before taking a bite of her own. As the spoon left her mouth, her brow furrows in confusion. 
"Wait, I think they gave you two strawberry’s by mistake," she said, reaching for your cup. "It's okay, though. I can go back in and ask them to fix it."
Your hand gently grabbed at hers to stop it, taking the ice-cream bowl back. "No, it's fine. I requested that they put a scoop of cherry and a scoop of strawberry in each cup," you explain, starting to mix the two flavors together and taking a mouthful. 
"Oh. Why did you do that?" Paige asked with a slight strain to her voice, brow furrowing further as she fixated on the spoon stuck between your lips. 
Noticing her sudden change in behavior you tried to explain what you thought had been remarkably clever, panicking slightly as you spoke. "I thought it was a good idea," you began, your voice filled with slight confusion. "You know, this way we each have our own, and we don’t have to keep reaching for each other's ice cream all the time and we won’t make a mess of your car. And don’t worry, you can still have my extra if that’s what you’re worried about. Plus," you forced out a nervous chuckle, "there will be even more now since we each have a full-sized scoop."
Her expression dropped suddenly, and she quickly abandoned her barely touched ice cream on the center console. 
You called out her name, your voice laced with concern, and carefully placed your ice cream next to hers before placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Paige, what's wrong? Did I do something?” 
Paige shook her head, hands going to briefly cover her face. "It's okay, you didn't do anything," she muttered, her voice muffled, "I just... fuck, I'm sorry, it’s nothing I’m just being stupid." She dropped her hands from her face as she turned to look at you, her expression briefly meeting yours before turning away to focus on the console. "Which one's mine, again?" she asked, her tone still tense. 
You withdrew the hand that had been resting on her shoulder as you leaned down to examine the two cups on the center console. "Uh, this one I think," you nodded, pushing one of them to towards her. The temperature of the ice cream sent a chill through you, its coolness in sharp contrast to the warmth that had coursed through you when you touched her.
She reaches for it wordlessly, hastily grabbing another bite, refusing to meet your gaze.
You’ve never seen someone eat ice cream angrily you think. 
"Paige?" you asked again, softer this time, your concern growing as you watched her ignore you. "Hey, talk to me. What's going on?"
She let out a shaky breath, her spoon stilling in the cup of ice cream. "It's just... it's been a lot, you know?" she said, finally looking up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
"I mean – I thought I'd lost you for good. And I know now we're trying to fix things, but every little thing makes me worry that it's all going to fall apart again. Like, every time we’ve been near each other I’m so afraid of messing it up and then whenever we’re apart I feel like that’s part of the problem too, but I scare myself to bad and I never reach out or anything and it’s all just so stupid." her voice strained. "It's just... I don’t know. This was supposed to be simple. "
Feeling like your heart is going to give out on you every time you hear her speak is beginning to become all too familiar. 
“Hey, we’re gonna be okay. It’s just gonna take some time clearly,” you say, your attempts to be reassuring as much for you as they are for her. 
She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. "I just... I wanted today to be good. And when you changed the order, it felt like maybe things weren’t okay between us after all.” She takes a deep breath, turning to you. “I know it’s so stupid, but I feel like I have to constantly over analyze everything between us now."
“Oh P, no, that’s not what I meant to do at all.” You murmur, your eyes filing up with tears of your own. Reaching over to grab her bowl from her now shaking hands, you place it on the dashboard, grabbing yours next so you can reach over to her without the obstruction.  Her hands grip your forearm as you wrap yourself around her shoulders, leaning your head back to kiss the side of her head. “This has been hard, and I’ve been so scared to mess up too and I’m sorry that I just did.” you choke out. 
“You didn’t mess up I’m just being dramatic, it’s just I feel like it isn’t supposed to be this hard though” Paige let’s out a sob, “I don’t know why I thought that, but I really thought everything would be back to normal, I just, I don’t get what’s happening with us at all and I don’t get why I don’t get it.” 
The tears that had flooded your eyes are now making their way down your cheeks. “I hurt you, I hurt you in ways that aren’t forgivable, and I won’t be mad at you if it takes you a while to get there, or if you never do.” 
This was supposed to be light, this was supposed to be easy, a step in the right direction, but all you can feel is yourself being dragged down, deeper and deeper when you thought you were already on the ground.
She vehemently shakes her head, “no, no, just stop. Stop being so shitty to yourself, I’ve already forgiven you.” Her fingers tighten around your arms to the point that it’s painful but you stay still, “I'm the one who's been awful. I’ve been avoiding you like the damn plague, you’ve been trying so hard and I didn’t mean to.  I’ve been making your life so much harder for so long and I didn’t realize until I kicked you out of my room that night, I still don’t know why I did that but I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She repeats the apology, praying you understand it as she becomes almost completely incoherent, the words and sobs falling out of her mouth simultaneously. 
You pull her closer, holding her as tightly as you can, sitting awkwardly on your side in the passenger seat. “We’re gonna figure this out,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “This is on both of us, and we are both going to fix it, alright love?”
Paige nodded against your shoulder, her sobs slowly subsiding. “I want that,” she whispered back. “I really want that.” 
The two of you stay intertwined, listening to the quiet hum of the radio, both too afraid to speak up and say something else potentially ruinous when you’ve just started making progress again. Eventually, however, you have to move. The ice cream has melted, leaving a sticky mess all over Paige’s dashboard and the lights shut off in the ice cream parlor, the employee giving the two of you a strange glance as she locks up. 
You must be feeling unusually brave, or maybe just desperate to keep her near you, probably the latter you decide as the words seem to tumble out of your mouth before you can think twice. “Do you want to come back to mine?” You can't help but thank god when she nods.  
The silence continues as you drive back to your place. The streetlights flash by, casting fleeting shadows inside the car, the light occasionally falling on your hand, intertwined tightly with Paige’s. You both let yourself cling to the other until she has to park the car, reluctantly letting you go.
"Wanna head in?" you say, breaking the silence once the cars settled to a stop. She nods, reaching for the handle the second you say it, like she’d been waiting for your permission.
The two of you step out of the car, and the crisp night air hits your skin. You walk side by side to the front door, and for a moment, everything feels like it used to—easy, natural. Once inside, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow over the familiar surroundings. "Make yourself at home," you say, gesturing towards the living room.
She sits, looking around your place as if seeing it for the first time. "It's been a while since I've been here," she says softly. "Yeah," you agree, the words are left hanging in the air as she fails to come up with a response that wouldn’t bring up any of the laundry list of things you’re both still avoiding. Paige's fingers fidget with the pillow she had moved to rest on her lap, her eyes focused on the floor.
"How about we watch a movie?" you suggest, unsure what to do in this uncharted territory.
She gives you a slight nod, reaching for the remote, opening Netflix and pressing play on some action movie that could not interest you less but for her, you’ll tolerate it. 
The movie flickers on the screen, but your attention is fixed on Paige. Her head rests gently on your shoulder, her breathing slow and steady as she drifts into sleep. The soft glow from the TV casts a gentle light across her face, highlighting her delicate features. You marvel at the way her eyelashes create shadows on her cheeks, the slight part of her lips as she breathes. She looks so peaceful, and you’re absolutely positive that no one could ever be more beautiful than she is in this moment, the thought both captivates and torments you.
You swallow hard, feeling a lump forming in your throat. ‘Why does she think I deserve her?’ The question echoes in your mind, each repetition tightening the knot in your stomach. She’s perfect, and here she is, trusting you enough to fall asleep in your arms. But the gentle sound of her breathing is drowned out by the echos of your cameras shutter and her cries pounding in your ears, each one a piercing through you, a guilt filled arrow. You shift slightly, trying to ease the discomfort, but it only intensifies.
You glance at the TV, trying to distract yourself, but the images blur together, meaningless against the backdrop of your spiraling thoughts. Your hand moves to stroke her hair, a gentle, almost involuntary motion. Her hair is soft, slipping through your fingers like silk. You want to focus on that sensation, to ground yourself, but the flood of insecurities keeps rising. ‘What if I hurt her again? What if I can’t be the person she needs?’ Each question is a weight pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.
When the credits finally roll, Paige stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She looks up at you with a sleepy, tender smile. "I'm too tired to drive home. Can I stay here tonight?" Her voice is a soft whisper.
"Of course," you say, but the words feel thick, stuck in your throat. A part of you longs to hold her close, to find comfort in her presence. But another part of you recoils, terrified of the thoughts that come with her nearness. 
‘I can’t do this.’
She shifts again, laying her head on your chest and curling up against you. Her warmth practically seeps into you, a soothing balm against the cold dread that has filled you to the brim. "I love you," she mutters, half-asleep, and her words are like a knife twisting in your heart. 
‘She shouldn't love me.'
You lie there, your heart pounding in your chest. The panic is a living thing, clawing at your insides, making it impossible to relax. You replay every mistake, every hurtful word, each one a confirmation of your unworthiness. She’s so peaceful, so trusting, and it only heightens your anxiety. 
You’ve changed a lot over the course of the past year, hell, the past months. Maybe, just maybe, the reason it’s been so hard to go back to how you were is because now you’re too different, you’re not the same as you were, it’s not the same as it was. 
‘Maybe she’s in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist anymore.’
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captain039 · 2 days
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PART 2 Predator grounds (Cooper Howard)
Alpha!Cooper Howard (pre-war)x omega!reader
Warnings: AOB dynamics, vault tech things, forced heats/ruts, eventual smut, age gap, angst? Experiments, needles, drugs, talks of pregnancy, first times, anxiety attacks, anxiety, forced claiming
Previous part <-
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Has it even been a day down here? You remember falling in and out of sleep on the edge of the bed, almost falling off at one point. You know the lights went dim twice so far and the music stopped when it did. You wish you could put those damn speakers up the vaults overseers ass if he was even around. Hell the only person you saw was the man bringing the food everyday. His overly cheery voice making you want to reach through the food slot and choke him. You think you’ve used too much water considering you’ve had five showers now, well you weren’t really washing yourself more like sitting on the floor in despair trying to relieve yourself quietly so the alpha outside didn’t hear. He hasn’t said a word, he’s been quietly brooding in the corner for the last few days. You’re worried about him, he always looks tense, you swear he never sleeps and he’s always twitching at every sound he hears. You feel sorry for him, feel sorry that he isn’t with the one person he married even if they did seperate he deserves that familiarity. He wouldn’t be in this harsh rut too, someone to take the ease off. God you’ve imagined too many times about how he could take you in every single inch of this vault room. He’s moved the couch to the corner, pushed the TV out of the way, he moved it while you were in the shower the second time.
You haven’t drawn the curtains back so you can’t see out into the hall way, hell you don’t want to, that couple across from you probably still going at it. You sit on the floor on pillows and a towel reading a crappy book they supplied on the book shelf. You haven’t explored all the shelves and cupboard, hell you probably wouldn’t mind watching a movie but it’s on his side of the room. You’ve never seen Mr Howard like this, so tense and caught up in his head, he’s usually a care free, kind, charcmismic man. Guess being frozen for 200 years will do that to a man. You glance at him hesitantly and gulp a little.
“Mr Howard?” You finally speak and he hums looking to you. His stare makes you falter and you nervously glance at the wall behind him before focusing back on his eyes.
“Are you- are you doing ok? Do you want a book? I think the Video tapes are on the bottom shelf too” you gesture to the light brown shelf filled with books and tape holders.
“I’m ok, sweetheart” he says his lips twitching slightly and you just nod a little saddened. You say against the wall head leaning on the mattress cursing the ache in your lower stomach.
“Room 236” a woman’s voice calls over and you frown.
“You’re not completing your functions!” She says cheerily and you raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah? Go fuck yourself and do it yourself asshole” Cooper yells and you flinch a bit at the tone but smile to yourself.
“If this continues we will seperate you to more appropriate partners! We want to save the America and you can help!” Coopers statement goes ignored and her words make your whole body tense and into a panic. You can’t go to someone else, you can’t be with someone else you’ve never done this, what the hell? They can’t just move you to get impregnated. You don’t want kids, the thought of a baby terrifies you.
“Sweetie look at me” you can hear Coopers voice briefly but your heart is pounding in your ears. He yells your name and you flinch and look at him.
“You’re alright, they’re not gonna take you from this room ok, I promise” he says so sincerely but he can’t control them, can’t control if they do take you, they’re in control here.
The lights dim signalling night time and you’re curled up hiding under the covers like it’d save you. The speakers words scare you to death, this whole situation seems to be dawning on you. Tears roll down your face silently and you suck in a small breath. You don’t hear the footsteps till you feel the bed dip and your heart rate rockets into panic.
“It’s me” Cooper mutters and you let out the breath in a shudder that you were holding.
“I keep my promises you know this” he speaks softly in the darkness and you nod your head despite him not being able to see.
“I know” you croak cursing yourself silently. He always did, he was that kind of man.
“Get some sleep” he mutters after some silence and walks back to his side of the room.
Morning comes, the lights turning on brightly making you wince. You didn’t sleep well at all last night, tossing and turning, fleeting nightmares. Alarms blare and you’re suddenly wide awake and standing up by the bed on wobbly feet. Your door is opening, Cooper is up quickly as well. You see two men in hazard suits and two people behind them with guns. You tense realising they were here to take you away. You see a scared woman being held behind the four people, she’s cuffed and held by two others in hazard suits.
“You aren’t fulfilling your duties in room 236, we are to remove the omega and replace her” his words sound automated and suddenly you’re wrapped up in strong arms.
“You won’t take her” Coopers voice is low, his breathing is coming out almost in a harsh snarl, he’s got one arm across your upper chest the other over your stomach.
“Sir, let the omega go” the people in the hazard suits are unbothered by the smells and tone he’s using.
“You. Won’t. Take. Her” he breathes harshly between each word and you swear he’s a man possessed.
“I’m so sorry” he whispers softly in your ear and suddenly there’s like an electric shock of pleasure going through your body as blunt teeth clamp on your shoulder. You let out a strangled noise as a mating bond clicks into place, you’re flooded by him and feelings making you stagger but not fall in his embrace.
“You won’t take my mate away” he challenges after he stops biting and you’re in a daze. They halt there advances, a mate bond is strong, he won’t touch another omega now. They step back hands up and the door slides shut. You breathe deeply, having held your breath majority of that time as you finally process everything that happened. You place a hand on your neck feeling where he bit and stutter. You hear him apologising feel him move in front of you but you’re in overload right now. You don’t look at him, you turn, grab a chair and head to the bathroom. You force the chair against the door and collapse to the floor in a heap. What just happened?
NOTES:
To continue Wasteland heat I gotta watch the episodes again I think I got like episode five? While writing and then had this idea xD but I’ll continue Wasteland heat after xD
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songbirdseung · 1 day
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you flew right by, love / park sunghoon
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synopsis: the only love you've ever known, says goodbye
pairing: sunghoon x reader
warnings: heartbreak, death, grief, angst, sorry in advance, i cried too
wc: 1.3k
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The sky is a heavy gray, the kind that promises rain but never quite delivers, leaving the air thick and suffocating. You stand amidst a sea of black, the color of mourning, as the world seems to have lost its vibrancy. The sun is absent, hidden behind the oppressive clouds, as if it, too, is in mourning.
You find yourself at the edge of the crowd, your feet rooted to the ground, unable to move. The smell of damp earth fills your nostrils as you grip the single white lily in your hand, its petals trembling with the same grief that shakes your core. Each step you take towards the casket feels like walking through quicksand, pulling you further into despair.
As you reach the casket, you pause, looking down at Sunghoon's peaceful face. His eyes are closed, a stark contrast to the lively spark you had come to love. Tears blur your vision, spilling over and tracing silent paths down your cheeks. You wonder, what if it were you instead? What if you could trade places and lie in that wooden box, so he could continue living?
"I'd give anything to be in there instead of you," you whisper, your voice breaking. The lily slips from your fingers, landing softly on the polished wood.
A flashback hits you with the force of a tidal wave, pulling you back to a time when Sunghoon's arms wrapped around you on the couch, his warmth seeping into your bones. You can almost hear his laughter, feel the vibration of his chest as he speaks.
"I want to grow old with you," he had said, his voice a soothing melody. "We'll have a little house with a garden, and maybe a dog. We'll sit on the porch and watch the sunset every evening."
You had snuggled closer, your heart swelling with love and the promise of forever. "I can't wait for that," you had replied, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Growing old with you sounds perfect."
The memory fades, and you're jolted back to the present, to the harsh reality of the funeral. The first clumps of dirt hit the casket with a dull thud, and you turn away, unable to bear the sound. It feels like each impact is driving a nail deeper into your heart. People around you try to offer comfort—soft words, gentle touches—but it all feels distant, unreal. All you can think about is the life stolen from you, the future that will never be.
"Why did you have to leave?" you mutter under your breath, anger and sorrow intertwining. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."
Another flashback overtakes you, a moment of pure happiness. You and Sunghoon are at the beach, the sun setting behind you, casting everything in a golden glow. He's chasing you through the surf, laughter bubbling up from both of you as the waves lap at your ankles. When he catches you, he lifts you up and spins you around, his joy infectious.
"Gotcha!" he exclaims, pulling you close for a kiss. "I love you more than anything, YN."
"I love you too, Sunghoon," you had replied, your heart bursting with happiness. "Forever and always."
The memory is like a dagger, a reminder of what you've lost. The sound of dirt hitting the casket continues, a cruel punctuation to your pain. You close your eyes, wishing you could hold onto those memories forever, wishing you could bring Sunghoon back, if only for a moment.
As the funeral comes to a close, you feel a hollow emptiness settle in your chest. The crowd begins to disperse, but you remain by the grave, your heart unwilling to let go. You take a deep breath, trying to summon the strength to move forward, knowing that Sunghoon would want you to find a way to live, even without him.
But for now, all you can do is grieve, and remember the love that was taken too soon.
The days that follow are a blur, filled with an endless parade of condolences and casseroles. Your apartment feels emptier than ever, every corner haunted by memories of Sunghoon. His things are everywhere—his favorite mug on the kitchen counter, the book he was reading on the nightstand, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Each object is a reminder of the life you were supposed to share.
You find yourself retreating into your mind, clinging to memories like a lifeline. It's in one of these moments, late at night, when you find yourself on the couch, clutching a pillow to your chest. The silence is deafening, and you close your eyes, willing a memory to take you away from the pain.
A new flashback emerges, vivid and clear. You're in your kitchen, and Sunghoon is attempting to cook dinner. He's wearing an apron that reads "Kiss the Cook," and you can't help but laugh at how serious he looks, concentrating on the recipe in front of him.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" you tease, leaning against the counter.
He looks up with a mock-offended expression. "Of course I do! I'm a master chef in disguise."
You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Oh really? Prove it."
With a playful grin, he steps closer, pulling you into his arms. "How about I start with dessert?" he murmurs, before kissing you deeply.
The memory brings a bittersweet smile to your lips, but it's quickly overshadowed by the crushing reality of his absence. You open your eyes, the darkness of your apartment pressing in on you. The weight of your grief feels unbearable, a constant ache that doesn't seem to lessen.
One evening, unable to stand the quiet any longer, you decide to visit a nearby park, a place where you and Sunghoon spent many happy afternoons. The park is almost empty, the chill of the evening keeping most people indoors. You find the bench where you used to sit together, overlooking a small pond.
As you sit there, staring at the water, you hear footsteps approaching. You turn to see an elderly woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile. She sits down beside you, not saying a word for a long time. Finally, she speaks.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" she says softly.
You nod, unable to find your voice.
"I lost my husband many years ago," she continues, her voice filled with a quiet strength. "The pain never really goes away, but you learn to carry it. You find ways to honor their memory and keep them alive in your heart."
Her words resonate with you, and for the first time in days, you feel a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to live with the pain. To remember Sunghoon not with overwhelming sorrow, but with the love and joy he brought into your life.
As the days turn into weeks, you begin to take small steps forward. You start journaling, writing letters to Sunghoon, pouring out your thoughts and feelings onto the pages. It becomes a way to feel connected to him, to keep his memory alive. You also reach out to friends and family, allowing them to support you, to share their own memories of Sunghoon.
One day, as you're sorting through Sunghoon's things, you come across a small, wrapped package with your name on it. Your hands tremble as you open it, revealing a beautiful locket inside. There's a note in Sunghoon's handwriting:
"YN, I saw this and thought of you. I hope it brings you as much joy as you bring me every day. Love, Sunghoon."
Tears stream down your face as you clasp the locket around your neck, feeling a sense of peace for the first time in a long while. Sunghoon's love is still with you, a guiding light in the darkness.
As you move forward, you hold onto the memories, the love, and the lessons Sunghoon taught you. Life without him is not what you had planned, but you find strength in knowing that he will always be a part of you, living on in your heart and in the life you continue to build.
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Just a little bit where Lee punishes you after a party.
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Pairing -> Boyfriend!Lee Bodecker x Girlfriend!Reader
Warnings -> 18+, Minors DNI, d/s relationship, dom!Lee, sub!Reader, drunk!Reader, daddy kink, punishment, ass slapping, fluff
A/N -> @lanabuckybarnes you asked for some Lee punishment, so here you are babygirl.😏🤭
You just come home from your party, drunk and giggling when you open the door to your shared apartment. Lee is sitting on the couch, his eyes immediately on you when you open the door but there is not the usual smile on his lips when he looks at you.
“Dadddyyyyy,” you say, giggling even more when you make your way through the floor to get to Lee. You’re not even walking straight but you find that even funnier. Lee raises his eyebrow, not saying anything. “You’re sooooo boring, come dance with me, dadddyyyyy.”
Lee grumbles, holding his hand out and you immediately grasp it, wanting to pull him up from the couch. But instead of getting off the couch he pulls you closer and places you with one smooth movement over his legs. You groan when his legs press into your stomach.
“Think ya funny, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice rough and you think also darker. His big hand slides over your bare thighs, pushing your skirt up and revealing your panties to him. He chuckles when you squirm, his other hand pressing on your back to hold you on his legs.
“Daddy—“ you pout, getting interrupted when Lees hand lands with a harsh slap on your bare ass. You help, eyes widen and you try to wiggle away but your boyfriend holds you in place and another harsh slap lands on your cheek. “No fair.”
“Not fair, sweetheart? Ya know what’s not fair? Goin’ out and not answerin’ daddy messages once,” he says, his hand rubbing softly over your already red ass cheeks before he lifts his hand again and brings it back down again. “Bein’ drunk, and thinkin’ daddy’s not gonna punish ya for that?”
Tears well up in your eyes, not only because your ass feels sore but also because you disappointed Lee and now he is mad. Your feelings and the alcohol make the best combination — not — and you just start crying while Lee slaps your ass a few more times.
“D—Daddy, I’m sorry,” you hiccup. Your fingers dig into the soft skin of his leg. Your tears fall down your cheeks and you sob, while your boyfriend just rubs softly over your sore ass by now.
You open your mouth, ready to apologise again but he shushes you when he helps you to get off his legs. “Come here, sit on daddy’s lap, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, sitting on his lap, your sore ass is causing a soft pain when it rubs over the fabric of his jeans. Your legs dangling on both sides of his, and you let yourself fall forward and against him. Your head rests against his shoulder while Lee caress your back softly, calming you down when he pushes you closer against him. Your hands are between your bodies and you feel his soft belly pressing against your hands.
You place yours hands on his stomach, massaging the soft flesh under the thin fabric of his shirt, making you sigh. Something that calms you almost immediately is next to your boyfriend in general his soft belly, you can touch it and knead it softly and it’s just so soft and fluffy.
“Do ya know why daddy had to punish ya, babygirl?” Lee asks, smiling softly when he feels your fingers digging into the flesh of his belly. You nod your head but with a soft groan from Lee you know he wants you to use your words.
“Yes, Daddy. Because I didn’t text or call you, because I’m too late at home and caused you to worry. And because I’m drunk,” you mumble, feeling more tears forming in the corner of your eyes. “A—Are you mad? D—Did I disappoint you, daddy?”
“Not mad nor disappointed, just want ya to think about the rules when ya out, sweetheart,” he tells you, his voice soft.
Lee places his hands underneath your sore ass, causing you to hiss. “Is oke, we’re goin’ to clean ya and then we take care of ya sore ass before we go to bed.”
With a soft nod you let Lee carry you through the apartment to the bathroom. “I love you, daddy. An’ I’m sorry for breaking the rules.”
“I love you, too, babygirl. It’s fine, don’t ya worry, sweetheart,” Lee assures you, kissing your forehead, then his lips trail all over your face. He chases you to giggles softly when he kisses the tears with his soft, plump lips away. Then he presses his lips softly against yours, causing you to gasp into the kiss before you place your hands around his neck to pull him even closer.
Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles
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Protect | Sam
A small one to get me back into writing, will be doing one for Dean also! <3
Summary: You attempt to comfort Sam from his most recent break up.
Prompt: "If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?" @promptsbytaurie
If anyone is interested, I have a taglist here! So if you want to be notified any time I post, pls send in a form so I can update it! Been away for a little bit so I’m gonna update it soon if anyone else has applied their interest :)
(Guys pls let me do a part 2 to this pls pls I beg)
Taglist: @girlsforpjm @rowenalovee @amythedoctor
Word count: 1,069
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♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
The ambience in the bunker is quieter than usual. Usually there’s some weird genre of music playing loud enough so you can hear from 4 rooms away or someone furiously tapping away on a keyboard.
Walking down toward the lobby, it’s dead quiet. Assuming no one’s home, you take a gander at the books on the bookshelves, multiple books about monster lore and latin history, demonic possession and even some without a name. They’re worn down from the use they got from when the Men of Letters were around. Without letting either of the Winchesters know about it, you managed to sneak your own normal book collection in there. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, right? Sam especially would go nuts.
Picking out a light blue book with an intricate flower design running around it, the bolder, darker letters stand out in contrast. You scan the pages before taking a seat in the armchair in the corner of the library. The floor lamp next to you is dim, setting the mood perfectly for a quick comforting read.
A cough breaks you out of your gaze, unknowing that anyone was even inside. You peer round the corner and notice a huge man with long, unruly hair. His head sits in the palm of his hand, his long legs spread out underneath the table.
“Jesus Christ,” you whisper to yourself and make yourself known. “Sam?”
He grumbles, barely turning his body around to acknowledge you. “Yeah?” He clears his throat, his voice croaky and weak. You pad your way over to him and stand above him, examining the empty whiskey bottle and a glass that has remnants. His personal phone is left unlocked, a few texts sent to someone but haven’t gone through. You skim read.
7:04AM
Can we please talk?
8:15AM
Please message me, IDK what I did wrong
17:16PM
Sam, leave me alone. I’m done talking with
you. I will block your number
18:08PM
Sorry
MSG NOT SENT. TRY AGAIN
“How are you feeling?” You question, speaking carefully as he has obviously had a few drinks. You pull out a chair and sit beside him, his head remaining in his hands. You stare at him intently, hoping for a good answer. He takes a deep breath and sighs shakily. He rubs his face and he glances at you quickly. His eyes dark, and the tip of his nose crimson. He wipes his nose and takes another swig, too quick for you to even stop him. “What do you think?” He huffs, trying to show a smile but failing. You look down at the floor, unsure of what to say. He reaches over and locks his phone, then rubs his eyes with his fingers. “I don’t know what to do,” He starts, his voice wobbling. You reach for the nape of his neck and gently caress his hair, “What did I do wrong?” He starts, tears forming in his eyes as he looks at you once more, then breaking contact. “It’s okay, Sammy. Let it out.” You say, stroking his hair as he sits back, looking up at the ceiling.
“I look so weak,” He laughs, trying to collect himself. You sigh quietly. “You’re not. If it hurts you, it hurts you. It’s normal to be sad.” You say, trying to make him feel at least a little bit better. He reaches for his glass again and you place your palm over the top of it. “I think you’ve had enough of this as well,” You slide the glass across the table away from Sam. “Listen. Things like this come and go, you’re more than capable to find someone way better than her. I understand it hurts right now but in a couple of weeks time you’ll feel so much better for relying on yourself and the people that love you than the people that don’t. You’re going to be fine, Sam. Trust me.” You give the speech like your life depends on it, but seeing your close friend so heartbroken made you feel like it’s your duty to ensure he hears exactly what he needs to hear. He looks at you with shining eyes, the red in them makes the hazel pop more than usual. His nose still red and cheeks flushed, his usually neat hair is tussled. “I just loved her so much,” He sighs, straightening himself out. “But she wasn’t for me. We were so different.” He explains, his eyes scanning your face. “How so?” You ask, trying not to intrude.
“Well, I’d want to go places with her to eat, drink, whatever and she’d hate it. She’d never want to spend time with me or show me off. I guess she just wanted to use me, I think that’s the thing that hurts the most,” He admits, shedding new light on his now past relationship with this woman… something that felt like rage and sadness for him built up inside of your chest, and he carries on. “When things wouldn’t go her way, she’d get angry with me. So angry,” He pauses, “She’d threaten things but never actually go through with it, thankfully. I could never say anything because I was scared of her reaction or if she’d leave me for standing up for myself.” He finishes, a tear falling down his cheek and nothing stops you from wiping it away. Keeping your hand gently on his face, you stare into his eyes as he does yours.
“If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?” You say, keeping your tone calm and collected, but Sam smirks at the fire that glows within yourself, a passion for protecting the ones you love, or maybe it’s more than that.
“Okay. I will.” He smiles for the first time since this whole interaction started. You slowly start to stand up, shuffling yourself out of the chair. You remove your hand from Sams’ face, but then he unexpectedly takes your hand as you try to turn away, pulling you back. You look at him with concern, and his helpless gaze stares up at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He says, pursing his lips. “Honestly, it’s what I needed. So, thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you, Winchester.” You say, quickly grooming his hair so its somewhat neater. Glancing into his eyes one last time, he shows you a fragile smile.
A delicate smile is still a smile.
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M Werefox (Harcourt) x F reader - 1
➤ Pairing - M werefox x F reader ➤ Wordcount 1.9k
A lovely reader on Patreon liked Harcourt and asked about a Part 2 for this story and of course I said yes! I had to rewrite Part 1 though, so here it is! Part 2 is coming soon as well.
I don't think I've ever posted this to Tumblr because this story was from my glory days on Wattpad before my book got deleted. (If you’re reading this on Wattpad, maybe you remember it? Idk)
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It's your twelfth birthday and the sun is shining and your friends are due to arrive in an hour for your little party. Suddenly you hear your mother yelling outside.
"Shoo! Out, out!"
You scamper into the backyard to see what the fuss is about and find her chasing the scrawniest werefox kit you've ever seen away from the chicken coop. He's got egg yolk clinging to his chin, an undeniable sign of his theft. His black-tipped ears pin to his head as he deftly dodges the dishcloth your mother is wielding and leaps over the backyard fence, disappearing into the brush.
"I've heard all about him from Pansy down the street. She says she's also missing eggs now and then," your mother says, putting her hands on her hips and blowing her hair out of her eyes.
"But Ma!" You wail, "he's hungry! Did you see how thin he was?"
Your mother pats your head. "He's different from us, darling. Those creatures are half wild. I'm sure there's plenty of things in the forest for him to hunt."
"But he's so small," you reply anxiously. "Not much bigger than me. Maybe he can't catch anything."
"How did he even get in?" Your mother murmurs, checking the latch on the coop, and then tutting in dismay as she sees the side of the coop, where the kit has scratched and chewed through the thin wood planks, making a hole to squeeze through.
"Oh dear. This is going to take a while to fix," your mother sighs and peeks into the coop. "And now I'm a few eggs short for your cake. At least he didn't go after the chickens."
You hardly care about your cake now. "If he comes again, can we keep him?"
Your mother purses her lips together in the way she does when you ask her a question she doesn't know how to answer.
"He might be wild, but he's not an animal," your mother finally replies. "He'll grow just as big as you, and you can't keep him as a pet."
"Why not?" You whine. "He doesn't have a mommy or a daddy, does he? He's all alone."
"You don't know that, darling," your mother says.
"Pleaseee?" You hop from one foot to another and stare up at your mother with pleading eyes.
She smiles, but she doesn't say yes. "My soft-hearted girl," she says and hugs you. "Come, let's see if we can still put together something sweet for your birthday."
You pout for the rest of the week, but she doesn't budge, like any sensible mother. The little werefox has to have a den nearby and you hope the next time you see him, you can follow him to it. The next Saturday your mother is visiting the Pansy down the street with some soup for her sick son. You're alone at home, swinging in the backyard and trying to see how high you can go. Your stomach swoops as the swing brings you down, and just then you see a flash of russet through the corner of your eye.
The werefox boy sits down and pries at the planks on the newly repaired coop, bracing one hindfoot on the wall as he begins to pull. He's stronger than he looks, and you hear the wood beginning to splinter. You leap out of the swing and misjudge your timing, crashing onto your knees in the dirt. The noise startles him and he jumps up.
"Wait!" You clamber to your feet.
He hops over the fence and scurries away, darting glances at you over his shoulder. You grab your half-eaten ham sandwich from the porch and race after him. He's fast and agile, darting into the trees and leaping over fallen branches while you straggle behind, still calling for him to wait for you. You lose sight of him when you're forced to stop and catch your breath. The lettuce has fallen out of the sandwich, but you're pretty sure he wouldn't have wanted it anyway. You walk aimlessly in the direction he went, wondering if you'll be able to find him.
You come across a hole between the thick roots of a tree that looks just about big enough. You kneel and look into the hole. The dirt has been scraped away and smoothed down to make a tunnel.
"Hello?" You call down. "Is this your den?"
There's a rustle, and the werefox boy pops his head out, his eyes alert. You sit back on your haunches and look at him.
"Why are you following me?" He asks, his ears constantly twitching as he listens to the forest.
"You can speak?"
"Duh," he replies.
"I brought you this." You hold out the sandwich, which is crumbly now.
His eyes narrow and he leans forward to sniff your hand. He snatches it from you and scarfs it down, his pupils widening as he tastes the ham.
"Is it good?" You ask.
He nods and eyes your greasy hand. He leans forward and presses his muzzle against your hand, licking the taste of ham away.
You giggle. "You're like a really big puppy!"
He pulls back and disappears into his den.
"Better come inside. It's dangerous out there," he mutters.
You clamber happily in with no regard for your safety. His den is like a secret treehouse, but way cooler. The floor is lined with dry, crunchy leaves and soft downy chicken feathers.
"You might get in trouble for killing people's chickens, you know," you say, crossing your legs and getting comfortable.
There's just about enough room for the two of you.
"I'm not," he says. "I gather the loose feathers when I... You know." He looks ashamed.
"Where are your parents?" You ask. "They should be taking care of you so you don't have to steal."
"I don't know," he says, lying down and curling his tail around his thin body. "I ran away."
"Ran away from your home? Why?"
"It wasn't a home, it was a traveling circus." He stares at the dirt ceiling of his den. "We went to so many different places."
You glimpse a scruffy, dirty collar chafing the fur around his neck.
"Was that from the circus? Why are you still wearing it?"
"I can't work the latch," he says.
"Can I help?"
He squirms and shivers, but tilts his head to let you try. In a few seconds, you've removed it. His eyes brighten and he rubs the fur on his neck.
"Thank you," he says shyly.
You nod. "What was the circus like? Did they poke you with sticks like they do with the lions? To get you to do tricks?"
His shoulders quiver and he makes a barking sound that seems equivalent to a human laugh.
"No, I pickpocketed the crowd. I was small and quick, so nobody really noticed me.
"Where the circus people mean to you? Is that why you left?"
He shakes his head. "They were okay. But we were always in the cities when all I wanted to do was be in the forests and look up at the night sky. I couldn't leave because I had a contract, so I just ran away."
"And now you're here."
He nods, idly scratching the matted fur on his neck where the collar was.
"You can't steal any more eggs," you tell him. "I'll bring you food instead."
"Why would you do that?" His gaze follows you as you crawl over to the entrance of his den.
"Because we're friends," you tell him. "I have to go home now, or else my Ma will wonder where I am."
"Okay."
"You never told me your name. Friends need to know each other's names," you tell him.
"At the circus, everyone called me Harcourt, so I guess that's my name."
"So fancy," you giggle and tell him your name in return. "See you tomorrow!"
You keep your promise, showing up the next day with a whole sandwich this time, and a brush. You show him how to use it and help him pick twigs and clumps of dirt out of his fur. He hates the water, but you convince him to try it. Once he's dry, you brush him until he's fluffy and soft, and the sun dances in his fur. He begins to smile, and you never mind how sharp his teeth are. As time passes you grow apart from your old friends, but Harcourt remains close.
Your mother notices that the eggs are never stolen again. One day as you head out for your daily "walk" she packs some extra food and puts it in your hands.
"How long have you known, Ma?"
"Do you think I'd let my girl leave the house almost every day without making sure you're safe?" She says with a twinkle in her eye.
You wrinkle your nose, trying to picture your mother sneaking after you.
"So you don't mind?" You ask. "Harcourt and I are friends now."
"So his name is Harcourt..." She murmurs. "Just make sure to come home before dark, my child."
That's how you made- and kept- your unlikely friend. You spend most of your free time in the forest with Harcourt, eating sandwiches and drinking cool water from the spring nearby. You taught him how to swim and look for shapes in the clouds and in return, he showed you how to forage for berries and edible mushrooms. You brought some blankets out to his den and on cold days you would curl up together inside his den and you would read to him with the light of a lantern.
He began to put on a little muscle and get taller than you. He was also moodier, and would sometimes growl when he was in an extra bad mood. You got testy yourself, and sometimes you would argue and end up storming back to your house in angry tears. You had always told your mother everything and that didn't change. She listened to you, smiled, and sometimes even shed a tear at your woes.
She never complained about your friendship with Harcourt but as puberty hit she got more cautious, often poking around embarrassing subjects, which embarrassed you to no end. You would tell her it wasn't like that and you were just friends, and then you would run to your room and blush angrily into your pillow, wondering why she even had to bring that up.
Eventually, you had to leave for the capital to further your education. You cried the hardest that day, soaking Harcourt's fur with your tears and promising that you wouldn't forget him. You wrote him letters and asked your mother to read them to him. Your dear mother even wrote back for him now and then. Harcourt's letters were filled with stories about fishing, expanding his den, an incident with a badger, and even working in town to make some money. He had learned to read and promised to learn to write as well.
Half a year later he fulfilled that promise. His handwriting was chicken scratch and hard to read, but you stuck each one to your dorm wall and looked at them often. Your roommate got to hear the whole story from you, and would often tease you and tell you that you were definitely in love. After a while, you stopped denying it.
Finally, you completed your last year and graduated. You could hardly contain your excitement as you packed to go home, looking forward to seeing your mother, breathing in the crisp countryside air, and meeting your good friend again. You headed to the train station and before you knew it, you were on the way home.
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soulless-angel25 · 2 days
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Ghost's Romance May, Day 31 Prompt- Future @ghostsfanficevents
It wasn't unusual for Sally and Paul to watch Estelle for them since neither of them were able to be home all the time. Paul because he was a teacher and Sally because of her writing and having to do meetings to help with improving the environment.
And so, when they had asked Percy and Annabeth if they could please watch her today because they'd like to go on a date they had agreed easily. After all, they loved the little girl who beamed so happily, who should never have to worry about her future or the fear of being eaten by monsters so long as she had them to protect her.
So when Estelle had asked if they could go on a walk, they had no reason to say no to her. Percy simply gave her a piggy-back ride as he and Annabeth walked through the city, towards an ice-cream shop that was nice, especially since summer was right around the corner and it had begun to heat up in the city. This was a normal thing for them, whenver Percy and Annabeth had to watch Estelle. Depending on the time of the year they would go out to get ice-cream or go to an aquariam or soemthing else. It was normal.
What was not normal was being stopped by and older lady who remarked on how adorable Estelle was, actually-no, that wasn't the strange part. What was the strange part was her saying "Oh, what a cute daughter you have! Best you treasure these days when they're young. The grow up so quickly, you know?" before walking away. Leaving both Percy and Annabeth a bright shade of red as they looked at each other.
They both tried to brush it off, and they did for a time until on their way back to the apartment after getting ice-cream a man with a camera was offering to take pictures of families, and he called out to them, "You there! Family of three, how would you like to get a picture with your daughter? Immortalize this time?"
The blush came back in full force this time as Percy explained that she wasn't their daughter but his younger sister and they were watching her for the day, the man had remarked on how much they looked like a family but still offered them a picture, "You're still family, aren't you? Parents and child, siblings. Family all the same. Now come, I will give you a picture."
At the insistence they agreed and after being handed the picture made their way back home quick. Paul and Sally were back by then but Percy and Annabeth didn't really acknowledge that outside of handing Estelle back to them before going to sit on the couch.
Neither of them were quite sure how to begin the conversation so Percy just went straight into it, "Do you, ever want to have kids with me, Wise Girl?"
The blush had seemingly become a permanent fixture on both their faces as Annabeth linked their hands together, "One day. I think I'd like to have kids with you. Not now though, not while everything is just beginning to stabilize once more."
He nodded, "I'd like to have kids with you one day too. But before that, I agree. Right now is still too unstable."
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ginabaker1666 · 2 days
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The Very Thought of You
From the Love Letter Series
Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)
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As the highly regarded twenty-fifth mission approaches for Rosie and his crew, he's faced with startling realities that may change the course of his future. While Jo is back home, waiting patiently for his return, she receives news that she wasn't expecting from someone even more unexpected, that 'tests their relationship even more.
Read part 5 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist
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The officers club was, for the first time in a few weeks, filled. The new replacement officers were enjoying the whiskey, music and watching the Red Cross girls as they flitted around the room. Harry and Rosie were tucked away in a corner by the fireplace, nursing their drinks as they watched the fresh faced kids that had just shipped out, eager to join the fight, try and navigate their surroundings. Rosie wondered how they would fare- remembering the first night his crew had been in this very room. The atmosphere had been vastly different, a celebration of Captain Glenn Dye’s twenty-fifth mission. The faces of the original crews that had flown in from Greenland were intimidating. He had panicked so badly upon meeting Major’s Cleven and Egan that he had divulged to them that he and his crew had trained and flown in their skivvies. Pappy still hadn’t let him live it down, and he had a very strong feeling that once he was back stateside, Jo would end up hearing all about it from Croz. 
The irony wasn’t lost on him, sitting there now, his twenty-fifth on the horizon, one of the few people here now, who had been in the room months prior. Of the rest, so many were gone; he would wager that a good deal more men had died in this war, while the rest were being held as POWs in the Stalag. The two Majors, now no longer at Thorpe Abbotts; it was Rosie and Croz who were the old timers, along with James Douglass, Everett Blakely and Jack Kidd. It stirred up a cornucopia of emotions as he tried not to think about the possibility of what the next flight would bring. He was so lost in his own mind he didn’t see the three replacements at the bar, didn’t hear them talking about him specifically, nor did he hear Kidd setting them straight, 
“So, are you going to request Florida or Texas for your assignment?” Croz’s voice brought him out of his own head, eyes finding those of his friend. 
“I’ve already been to Texas, before my tour,” Rosie nodded, thinking back to those hot days of training in Laredo. “Training pilots in Florida just sounds better.”
“What I wouldn’t give to train pilots somewhere sunny after a year in this pea soup.” Croz sighed, leaning back in his chair. 
“Ah, your time will come.”
“But that’s the problem with being kicked up to operations. I hardly get to fly anymore.”
He was about to reply when the red light went on, the men around him sighing in disappointment of a night cut short. Glasses coming to rest on the bar and on tables, Rosie made to move as well, before Croz’s hand came to his shoulder, pushing him back into his seat. 
“Your crew’s on stand down for this one.” 
“Oh…”
“So, Florida huh?  Tell me you’re at least going home for a few days before.”
“Ma would be on the first train down if I didn’t.” He huffed out a laugh. The image of his Jewish mother from Brooklyn pushing her way through officers and The Brass in Florida just to give him a smack on the back of the head for not going home first brought a smile to his face. Mostly because he knew she’d do it too. 
“Just your Ma?”
He feels his cheeks warm instantly at Croz’s indirect mention of Jo, and realizes that it’s quite literally on the horizon. The day’s are trickling down to near zero before he’ll see her again and it makes excitement and nerves bloom in his stomach like the annual floral show at Brooklyn’s Botanical Gardens. The thing’s he’s said to her in writing, moments of bravery shared on paper, those are all quite rapidly approaching reality. He’ll soon be able to hold her in his arms, and finally have her in all the ways he’s dreamed of for so long. 
“When did you hear from her last?” 
“Hmm?”
“Jo. When did you last hear from her?”
“About two weeks ago. Said she was going upstate for a few days with Jean to visit with Brady’s girlfriend, Juliet.”
“Yea, Jean mentioned that in her last letter. I think it’s good for all of them, especially with Brady being stuck where he is…”
“They’re all just stuck there,” Rosie’s mind wandered back to those first three missions, all the esteemed pilots that had come before him, sitting out the war in a German POW camp while he was a hair’s breadth from home. “They’ve got to be going stir crazy.”
“At least they’re together, from what I’ve heard,” Croz pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of his friends. “Brady writes to Juliet, who writes to Olive, who updates all of us.”
“Chain mail,” Rosie chuckled. “Val writes to Jo, who sends things from home in exchange for updates on how we’re both really doing.”
“I think it’s neat that they all talk, indirectly or otherwise.”
He was about to reply when the chair opposite him was suddenly occupied, a bright red smile turned on him and Harry. Valencia grinning at them, her usual French 75 in one hand, a cigarette between two fingers of the other. Settling her drink on the small table to her left, she leaned back in the chair, taking a slow drag of her cigarette. 
“Evening Val,” Harry offered a wave over to her. “You by yourself tonight?”
“Croz,” She returned his greeting before shifting her gaze to Rosie. “Rosie. Not alone, just waiting for Everett to get back. Wanted to say hi.”
“Well, you’re both welcome to join us.” Harry gestured to the empty chair next to Val. 
“Thank you, but I think we’re heading out in a bit,” Val focused back on Rosie before speaking again. “I got a letter, and lipstick, from Jo last week. She’s a real sweetheart Rosenthal. I hope you plan on marrying her once you’re back.”
Rosie couldn’t help laughing at Val’s serious expression; she was known around base as the feisty Red Cross girl, so to see her be so serious was actually quite funny to him. 
“I plan on it, Valencia, I promise.”
“Good; I owe her a letter. I know she mentioned taking a trip upstate with Jean to visit Benny’s girl, I want to hear all about that.”
“Thanks for being a friend to her, Val. I know she enjoys your letters, and I appreciate it. A lot.”
“No need to thank me,” Val stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray next to her drink. “Us Brooklyn girls need to stick together. Jean too, Croz. I owe her a letter as well.” 
“I have a feeling the three of you are going to be thick as thieves once we all get home.” Harry chuckled. 
“We might be already.”
“Are you?”
“I can’t give away all our secrets, Croz.” She winked. 
Draining her drink, she stood, offering both men a wave as she caught up with Ev Blakely and the pair exited the Officers Club together. 
“We’re in trouble…” Harry sighed with a shake of his head, Rosie readily agreeing with him 
—--------------------------------------------------
“Thank you!”
Jo handed the cab driver a few bills, the man placing her suitcase on the sidewalk next to her feet before closing the trunk. He wordlessly got back in his car and pulled away from the curb, leaving her in front of her house. She picked up the suitcase, heels clicking rhythmically on the sidewalk as she ascended the front steps of the house. She made quick work of the front door, the air still carrying a bit of winter’s chill if the sun wasn’t out, and entered the house. She could hear the radio on in the living room, the sound of the nightly news report and her parents talking. 
“Hi! I’m back!”
“We’re in here dear!” Her mother called out to her. 
Leaving her suitcase by the door, Jo quickly shrugged out of her coat, leaving her hat and gloves on the credenza by the door, coat on the hook. The house was warm and sent a cozy shiver up her spine, a feeling of contentment after a day of travel seeping through her bones. Her father was in his chair next to the radio, her mother on the sofa with her needlepoint in her lap as they dutifully listened to news from the frontlines. 
“Josephine, welcome home!” Her father grinned, offering her a smile as she leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. “How was upstate?”
“Oh it was so beautiful,” She took the seat next to her mother on the couch, greeting her the same way she did her father. “So much quieter than the city.”
“How was Juliet? Did she seem okay when you girls were there?”
“She seemed as okay as could be, considering where poor John Brady is.” 
“Poor thing, she must be worried sick.”
“She gets letters from him, though not as frequently as when he was in England. I think she takes comfort that he’s with so many of the men from his squadron and not alone.”
“Well, you and Jean did a nice thing going up there to spend her week off with her.” 
“It was a nice couple of days, and her parents were so welcoming.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Mrs. Harris gave her daughter's hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you hungry? There’s leftovers on the stove for you if you want.”
“Jean and I ate on the train, but I’ll cover it and put it away for you before I go up.”
“Oh, thank you honey. I left your mail on the vanity in your room.”
“Thank you mom,” Standing from the couch, Jo made a quick stop in the kitchen to put the leftovers away, before picking the suitcase up that she’d left by the door. “I’m going up, goodnight!”
“Goodnight Josephine,” Her father called back. “We’re glad you’re back safely.”
With a smile, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, the exhaustion from the day catching up with her. Her smile widened as she thought of the possibility of a letter from Robbie waiting for her in her room, something to read while she curled up under the covers. She liked the idea of his words acting as a bedtime story, and often found herself reading over old letters of his before bed at night; the last thing on her mind every night were his bright blue eyes and the promises that they made to each other. 
Closing the door behind her, she dropped the suitcase to the floor- tomorrow’s problem- and quickly crossed the room to see what was waiting for her on the vanity. She made quick work of changing into her nightgown, resolving to wash her face after reading her mail. She picked up both envelopes, and sat back on the bed, tucking her feet underneath her as she got comfortable. She grinned at Valencia’s elaborate cursive on the front of the first envelope. Her pen pal from Thorpe Abbotts; Val was a Red Cross girl who had become a friend of Robbie’s, and most importantly, a fellow Brooklyn girl.  
“Miss Val, what have you got to tell me today…” Jo murmured under her breath with a grin. 
She could always count on the woman to give her the facts of how Robbie was faring over there, and if he was truly looking after himself. She loved the little stories she would share about nights in the Officers club, or the weekend pass she took with her sweetheart, Ev. Val would send photos along if she could snag them from their friend on base,Joe, who was the regimental photographer. It would give Jo a sense of security, to know he was doing fine, that he had friends there, and a routine. He’d told her that Val brought a taste of home to the base, and he couldn’t wait to introduce them when they all finally came home. 
Sliding her thumb under the seal of the envelope, she quickly pulled the paper from its safe keeping. Unfolding it, she sat down on the bed and began to read. 
Hello Chickie! 
It’s been quite a moment since I’ve gotten to write you, and I hope by now you’re back safely from your adventure with Jean to visit Brady’s sweet Juliet. I want to hear all about how Upstate was. I’ve never gotten up that way myself, I’m a city girl through and through, but if you enjoyed yourself then maybe we should all plan a visit up that way as a group once this war is over and we’ve made it back stateside. I’m pretty sure I could convince Everett to take any vacation after this war! 
I saw your Rosie this evening in the club. He and Croz looked deep in thought when I joined them. Though as of late they’re always deep in thought. I think with Rosie approaching the coveted twenty-five, they’ve allowed themselves a moment to think of the future. I do worry that Harry without Rosie will be difficult on poor Croz; he’s lost so much already with Bubbles being gone, and the rest of the fellas stuck in Germany. But, Rosie should not skip out on the opportunity to get back home. We’re all rooting for him, Jo, and know that he’ll be well on his way back to you sooner than you think. 
I’ll certainly miss him and his crew around base- they brought a new happiness after so many of our fellas went down and were captured. Pappy may fight Croz to be best man at your wedding whenever that happens. Soon I hope! 
Before I forget, thank you for sending along that lipstick! Victory Red is so hard to come by over here these days. The town in East Anglia doesn’t have too many options, and I’m lucky I can get a pair of pantyhose when I need them. Meatball played tug of war with poor Helen’s last good pair a few days ago. The phrase Bad Dog is not one I thought we’d be using so frequently during the war. But boy, does that dog love Rosie. I wouldn’t be surprised if he looks to get a dog for you both once he’s back. 
Looking forward to hearing from you soon, Jo, and hope all is well back home in our favorite borough. I look forward to taking a walk through Brooklyn with you soon, and having a cocktail at the Automat over lunch. Stay well, my friend, and keep that chin up! 
Your friend, 
Val
Jo read the letter over again, chuckling at the thought of Meatball being so attached to Robbie, but also being such a menace of a pup that he destroyed pantyhose thinking it was playtime. She knew his twenty-fifth mission was on the horizon, if not happening imminently, and she was both worried and excited. She’d seen articles in the paper about the Bombers that were being lost and destroyed over German airspace, and knew that Robbie was in the thick of it. It made her sick with worry every time she opened a newspaper or listened to the radio. She knew he was capable, lord did she know, because he was still there. Still in the fight. But until he was home with her, safe, in her arms, she would continue to worry with every passing day. 
Putting the letter back in its envelope, she placed it next to her on the bed before picking up the second piece of mail. It was addressed to her in a handwriting she didn’t recognize, with a US Army Air Force postal stamp over the upper right hand corner. Her stomach immediately dropped, knowing what came in these random envelopes. There was no one else on base who would write to her, at least she assumed so. With a deep breath, and a silent prayer, she slid her finger under the back flap of the envelope, as she did with the first, and carefully slid the paper from its confines. Cautiously, as if it might bite her, she unfolded the paper and began to read what she felt in her gut was bad news. 
Hi Josephine! 
I thought I should introduce myself first. It’s me, Pappy! I’ve heard a lot about you from Rosie and wanted to send along a message because I’m sure by now, you’ve heard the news. 
Tears immediately springing to her eyes, Jo heaved a deep breath, prepared to read the absolute worst. Her Robbie was hurt, or worse… and his co-pilot, bless him, wanted to be the one to break the news himself. 
Please, don’t be too cross with him. He’s only doing what he feels in his heart is right. Rosie’s a fighter through and through with a heart of gold. He sees people being persecuted, and feels this unyielding need to fight for them because they can’t fight for themselves. His words, not mine. He’s good with the words, that one, so I’m sure he’s explained it to you a lot better than I ever could. But, remember, he loves you. We all can see how much, and he’d want nothing more than to be home with you. And he will be, soon I’m sure of it. 
Looking forward to meeting you one day! He’s really talked you up, and I’m sure all of it is true! I think it’s really neat that you’re best friends with Crosby’s wife! He’s a nervous wreck, that guy, but at least he has Rosie, and Rosie has him now that the rest of us are headed home. May have to come down to fisticuffs for the spot of best man when you two tie the knot, though. 
Keep well, Jo. He’ll be back before you know it! 
All the best,
Pappy Lewis 
A letter from Pappy? And to ask her not to be cross? And what hadn’t she heard that apparently Robbie had already told her? She’d resolved to believe that he wasn’t injured, or worse, because Pappy wouldn’t have sounded so enthusiastic in his greeting, however she felt more lost than she had when Robbie had first shipped out. With nothing to go on, she stood from the bed, slipped on her robe and shoved her feet into her slippers, before grabbing both letters and racing down the stairs. 
“Josephine!” Her mother hollered as she flew into the living room, stopping only when she was next to the phone. “Slow down, what’s wrong?”
Before she could respond, her mother noticed the letters crushed into her hand, and the nervous expression on her face, coming to stand next to her. 
“Josephine… what happened?”
“I don’t know! I’ve never gotten mail from Robbie’s co-pilot Pappy, ever, and now he’s sending me a letter telling me not to be upset and Robbie’s only doing what he knows is right… I’m just confused!”
“So he’s not…”
“No, I don’t think so. Pappy said he’d be home before I know it but, it still doesn’t make any sense.”
Picking up the receiver, she dialed the familiar line until the operator connected her call. She waited for the telltale voice on the other end to announce she’d reached the Crosby Residence. For the only person who could talk her down at this hour. 
“Jean…” Her voice wavered, and she tried, oh how she tried to breath through the tears stinging the back of her eyes, the nerves swirling in the pit of her stomach, but the shaky sound of her own voice sounded from her end of the receiver making Jean Crosby think the worst. 
Her friend was at the Harris home in record time, the two women sitting up in the living room, late into the night. Long after Jo’s parents had retired to bed. The tea had gone cold, and the girls had read and reread Pappy’s letter half a dozen times before finally letting it drop to the coffee table. The paper was crumpled from being passed back and forth, and the envelope was nowhere to be found. 
“He’s… I think he’s gone and done something entirely stupid.” Jo breathed, standing from the couch to pull a bottle from the small bar in the corner. 
“If you start drinking now, we’ll never get to the bottom of this.” Jean scolded her softly. 
“What am I getting to the bottom of, though! Pappy didn’t say what he did, just, that I can’t be mad.”
“Which has made you mad.”
“Of course it has! Stupid boy. His mother raised a stupid, stupid boy!”
“Jo, honey; you don’t mean that.”
Sinking down onto the couch, Jo allowed herself for just a moment to think that maybe Jean was right. That maybe Robbie wasn’t a stupid boy, but someone who was just hellbent on always doing the right thing. 
“I don’t know what I mean…”
“I’m sure he’s written to explain it.”
“God, I hope so.”
“He wouldn’t not tell you something important,” Jean soothed, wrapping her friend up in a hug. “He loves you.”
For the first time, Jo let the sob that had been building in her chest out into the quiet of the room. The tears spilling forth as her friend tucked her ever so gently against her shoulder, doing the best she could to help her find comfort in what was still such an unknown situation. 
“Then why does it feel like he’s not coming home…” 
Mrs. Harris found her daughter, and Jean Crosby asleep on the couch when she came down the next morning. Head to foot, they had haphazardly thrown the blanket from the back of the couch over themselves, and fallen into what she imagined was a restless sleep for her daughter. She knew how it felt; when Josephine’s father had been away at war, Josephine only a little girl, she remembered waiting on letters and praying none of them harbored bad news. Now her daughter was doing the same and she prayed for her, and for the sweet boy from down the street who had stolen her heart and taken it to war with him. 
Setting upon making coffee, she left the pot on the stove to percolate before making her way into the living room to wake the two girls. 
“Josephine, dear…” Gently shaking her at the shoulder, she watched as her eyes tightened before fully opening to the light in the room. “Come on now, come have some coffee and a bite to eat.”
“M’not hungry.” She murmured, pressing her face deeper into the couch cushion. 
“You’re turning down coffee?”
“…no?”
“Good, now come on. You slept in your makeup and you’re all over my throw pillows.” 
As Jo moved to sit up, Mrs. Harris gave Jean a light shake, the other woman quickly roused from her light sleep. 
“Oh gosh… I fell asleep on your couch.”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” Mrs. Harris chided her as only a mother could. “Now come on, both of you. Coffee and some breakfast.”
It was a quiet morning at the table, Jo and Jean sat in near silence while Mrs. Harris tried to make small talk with her husband. Neither were ignorant to the fact that Jo was hurting and didn’t have any answers. Both remained grateful for Jean Crosby and the friendship she offered to Jo- the two had found each other in dark times and it was refreshing to see something so lovely in a time of war. 
A knock at the door had all four heads turning at the sound, confusion on their faces as Mr. Harris gestured for them to remain at the table, while he went to see who would be calling so early. Josephine perked up slightly at the sound of Mrs. Rosenthal’s voice floated through the hallway before she was joining them at the table. 
“Mrs. Rosenthal…”
“Sorry to call on you all so early, I wanted to make sure you were alright, dear.”
“You know, I’m not sure, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to be alright with.”
“You haven’t gotten his letter?”
As she was about to reply, her father entered the kitchen, envelope in hand and relief on his face as he handed it over to Josephine. She immediately recognized Rosie’s handwriting scrawled across the front. 
“Where did you find that!’
“It was caught under the rug in the entryway,” He sighed. “Must have gotten stuck when you came in last night.”
“Christ!” She cursed, tearing into the envelope with a ferocity that shocked her mother, and had Jean laughing from her spot next to her. 
Unfolding the paper, Rosie’s familiar writing met her eyes and she sighed with relief. Nerves and fear still swirled low in her stomach, but less so at having his letter in her hands. 
My sweetest Jo, 
I miss you terribly. I know that’s not much of a way to start a letter, but it’s the truth. I miss you more and more each passing day, honey, and long to be back with you. 
This is not an easy letter for me to write, so please, try and understand that I’m not doing this for the wrong reasons. I’ve completed my twenty fifth mission, and I’ve reached the required number of flights to be discharged. I know you’re reading this and wondering what’s so uneasy about all of this. The day that I completed my tour, The Brass raised the number of missions required to complete a tour from twenty five to thirty. We found all of this out, unfortunately, in the Officers Club during what would have been a really nice evening celebrating with the crew and other fellas. 
The crew and I, we’re not required to stay for an additional five, they considered us safe from the new numbers. But sweetheart, it’s so hard for me to watch my friends, and replacement men come in, and have to try and beat higher odds. There’s still a fight to be fought, and a war that’s persecuting people who cannot fight for themselves. How can I just sit by while fresh faced, green, pilots come in and attempt to fly by the seat of their pants. It wouldn’t be right, and it would prolong the fight. You know I don’t like bullies, never have and never will. 
I’ve reenlisted for another tour, and have been promoted to Major. I know, you’re mad. I know Ma will be mad as well, and I understand if you stay mad. But please, I promise I will fight to help end this war so that I can come home to you. I hope you can forgive me for prolonging the start of our life together, and see the reasons for what they are. I just…I want to save the people who cannot save themselves. 
I love you, so terribly, Jo, that every day I find that I love you more than the last. I’m simply existing here, until I can finally take you in my arms and call you mine. I will continue to count down the days, my sweetest girl, and I hope you are too. You’ve got my heart, always, Jo. And I promise to return home, with yours, safely, very soon. 
All of my love, and millions of hugs and kisses.
Robbie 
Jo heaved a deep, ragged breath, before placing the letter down on the kitchen table. She wordlessly slid the paper over to Jean, the other woman looking between Jo and the paper as if the words might have jumped off the page and slapped her into stunned silence. 
“He’s reenlisted.” Jo spoke, the words almost inaudible, her throat thick with what could only be described as sadness. 
The anger that Rosie predicted might come, was not there. Only sadness, that he held such a strong moral compass inside of him, that he couldn’t bear to see the job left unfinished. His need to be there for others, something she knew long before he had even enlisted, had outweighed his longing and desire to come home. To be with his family, to be with her, and make good on all of the promises that he made. 
“Josephine…” 
When she looked up, her mother was no longer sitting to her right, but it was Mrs. Rosenthal. Her parents and Jean had left the room, leaving her alone with the woman she considered as much a mother as her own. Her eyes bore the same sadness that she felt, and when she didn’t think she could stand it anymore, she collapsed against her in tears, and wept. She wept for his mother, his sister, herself, for Robbie, for all the people who continued to suffer and lose during this unforgiving war. For the men who felt such duty to their country that they would remain overseas long after their time had come to go home. For the mothers, sisters, wives and sweethearts who just longed for the missing piece in their life to come home. 
“He’s doing what he thinks is right, dearest.”
“Damn him for being so good.” She cried. The tears trailed hot down her cheeks. “He’s so good! And he’s so, so stupid!”
“I know, sweetheart,” Consoling the girl she already thought part of her family, Mrs. Rosenthal’s tears fell in sync with Jo’s. “I raised a boy I’m proud of, you should be too, but hell if he’s not thick headed sometimes.”
Pulling back, Jo quickly wiped at her eyes, the tears mixed with the previous day's mascara causing black streaks to decorate her face. Eyes bloodshot and nose fire engine red, she nodded furiously in agreement with Rosie’s mother. Of course she was immensely proud of him, he had gone to England and done amazing, brave things, to keep people safe. She’d be a fool not to be proud of him. But the pain of being so close to that dream they both shared, oh that pain ripped through her with the fury of a river wild. Uncontrollable and on a path all its own, with no actual destination and nothing to stop it. It just kept running its course. 
“You know him, Josephine. You know that once Robert gets something in his head, nothing can change his mind.”
“Stubborn…”
“He is very stubborn,” Mrs. Rosenthal chuckled, handing the girl next to her a tissue to clean up with. “But he also worships you, and wants to protect you. So, he continues to fight.”
“I miss him so much, ” She sucked in a ragged breath before continuing. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel.”
“I feel what a mother is supposed to feel. I worry, and I pray, and I repeat the process over again day after day.”
“Then we will worry, and pray for him together. I think if both of us do it, he’ll come back safely.”
“Yes, he will,” Rosie’s mother gave a smile that Jo knew was forced. She gave the same ones when people asked her about Rosie. “And you keep writing to him. Those letters, he looks forward to them more than mine.”
“That can’t be true…”
“A mother knows these things.” 
If what Rosie’s mother said was true, then she should have been able to formulate something, anything to write to him. But as she sat at the desk in her bedroom that night, no tears left to cry and the blank sheet of paper in front of her, she found that the words were not coming as easily as she had hoped. What was she supposed to say? What was he expecting her to say? Did he expect a response from her, or was he banking on her being angry with him? It seemed silly to her to be in a fight, of sorts, when she was here and he was all the way over there. With all her might, she put pen to paper and hoped that she could formulate her thoughts properly, and convey her feelings in a way that might make him understand that she wasn’t angry. Simply put, she was sad. 
My dearest Robbie, 
I must admit, I’m finding it very hard to write this letter. I’ve been trying to find the words to put down on paper all day, and now it’s bedtime and I can’t bring myself to find sleep just yet. It’s no secret that you’re always on my mind, my love, and today has been no exception. I was quite surprised to come home from upstate to a letter from Pappy. I think I was more surprised that his letter was asking me not to be too upset with you. I spent all of last night trying to figure out what it was that I was not supposed to be upset about. When your mother called over at breakfast today, I knew it had to be something serious. My father found your letter in the foyer, stuck under the carpet by the door. It has been, to say the very least, a very exhausting day. 
Robbie, I’ve known you for so long, yet it took your mother to remind me that once you set your mind to something, there is quite literally no talking you out of it. It’s one of the endearing qualities that I love so much about you. Your determination to always do the right thing, and a moral compass that always points in the right direction. Don’t think for one second that I’m not proud of you for completing your twenty fifth mission safely. Please know that I’m proud of you for reenlisting, though it may not be my favorite of your decisions. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, though. But I think I can be proud and sad at the same time- never mad. How could I be mad at you for doing something you feel deep in your bones is the right thing? 
Please, tell me, will Pappy and the boys be staying with you? Have they decided to reenlist as well, or will they be going home? I must admit, you flying without Pappy by your side is such an odd idea to me. I don’t know that I will ever trust someone so entirely to be your right hand man in the sky. The Bald Eagle and the Legal Eagle- yes, I know of your nicknames for each other- are a pair, and should not be separated. As is the case for me and you, we are a pair that should not, and will not be separated. 
I promise you, I will be here waiting for you while you fight for those who cannot stand up and fight for themselves. I find sadness in that we must postpone the start of our future together, and continue to share this love on paper, with an ocean between us. I was looking forward to meeting you at Minton’s darling, and I know that absence makes the heart grow fonder, which can only mean that my heart is so very fond of you Robbie, and my love for you grows every single day. 
I love you so much, Robert Rosenthal. New York feels empty without you. I will be here waiting, counting the days until there are no more keeping us apart. 
Yours forever and always, with all of my love 
Jo 
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rosie was exiting the hut that served as the barber shop on base, the cool English air a welcome change as spring seemed to be settling in at Thorpe Abbotts. Rosie had been making it a point to spend time with each of the Riveter’s crew before they were sent home and today it was Bailey, the navigator keen on getting a haircut before the journey home. Around them, Officers and Enlisted Men passed them on their bikes, each one saluting the newly appointed Major as he walked by. 
“Jeez, you’re the top dog now.” Bailey’s thick Long Island accent broke the silence around them. 
“No, that would be Colonel Bennett,” Rosie rolled his eyes. “I’m just Rosie from Brooklyn who happens to know how to fly a plane.”
“Bullshit,” Bailey laughed, giving him a half hearted shove. “You’re Major Rosenthal now, and your new crew is going to fall at your feet.”
“I don’t want anyone falling at my feet.”
“Nash isn’t here to make the lewd comment so, you’re off the hook.” Bailey shook his head.
The indirect mention of Jo caused Rosie to tense up. He hadn’t heard back from her after sending his letter with what he could only describe as bad news for her. He wouldn’t blame her if she called this thing between them off, no matter how many times his crew tried to convince him she would do no such thing. 
“Still nothing back?”
“Not yet,” He sighed. “Can’t say I'd blame her either. I pretty much threw a wrench in our plans without so much as discussing it.”
“You did what you had to do. What you thought was right.”
“But did I?”
“You’re not second guessing yourself now, are you? It’s a bit too late for that, pal.’
“No, I know staying in the fight is the right thing to do, but isn't going home to her also the right thing to do?”
Bailey was silent a minute,  thoughts of his own wife back home surely moving to the forefront of his mind. Rosie had made it clear to each member of his crew that he didn’t expect them, nor would he blame them, if they took the out and went home after twenty five. They had all earned it as much as he had, and he wanted them to do what was best in their eyes. Pappy had waffled on it for a few days, until ultimately Rosie had decided for him that he should go home and be with his family. So now he would await a new crew, green Airmen who had yet to even see combat, and he prayed every day that he was enough to keep them alive. 
“You are doing the right thing, you know” Bailey spoke up again. “It might feel funny for a bit, but we’re all damn proud to have been on your crew. And we’re damn proud of you for seeing this through.”
“Since when are you the sentimental type?” Rosie turned to look at him, the shorter man trying to hide the emotion on his face. 
“Shut up and take the compliment, alright?”
“Alright, alright, I hear ya.”
“Good, now let's go. Almost chow time.” 
As they made their way to the Officers mess, Pappy was waiting outside the doors for them, a smug smile on his face, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. 
“Why do you look like you just got done having the best time of your life?”
“I hate to agree with him, but you do look entirely too happy for someone about to eat whatever they’re serving for dinner.” Rosie chuckled.
“Oh, no reason,” Pappy smiled, nudging Rosie in the shoulder. “Just delivering the most coveted piece of mail since March to one, Major Rosenthal.” Pappy pulled the envelope from his pocket, and Rosie could hardly believe his eyes as Jo’s cursive adorned the front. 
“How long have you had that!” Rosie swiped it from him, immediately tearing into it. He couldn’t be bothered with privacy or waiting to read it when he was alone. 
“Helen dropped the mail off while you were getting a shave.” Pappy grinned. 
Nodding, Rosie let his eyes fall on the paper, the letter much longer than what he was expecting. He had been expecting a brief note to stop writing, or something along the lines of how much she hated him, and never wanted to see him again. But what he saw on the page was a declaration of love, of how proud she was of him, and one sentence that caused him to stand up straight and fix his co-pilot with the wildest of eyes. 
“Pappy… you didn’t…”
“Don’t worry, I introduced myself properly.” The co-pilot grinned. 
Bailey immediately burst out laughing, knowing just how worried Rosie had been about Jo’s response, and now knowing that the poor girl knew from Pappy before Rosie, he couldn’t contain his laughter as he watched Rosie pull at his normally immaculate curls, blue eyes wild with disbelief. Just as Rosie made to turn on him, they spotted Harry Crosby strolling up to them, his own envelope in his hand and a sour look on his face. 
“Croz?” 
“Jean is mad at me because I didn’t stop you.” 
While one navigator heaved a deep sigh, brows furrowed in confusion at his own wife, the other continued his raucous laughter, the sound echoing around them as they stood outside the mess hall. 
“I’m glad you two are going home. Pains in my neck.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll miss us and you know it!” Pappy chuckled, Bailey’s laughter seemingly contagious. 
“Oh sure, I’ll definitely miss this.” Rosie rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Crosby as they entered the hut, leaving the two laughing Riveter’s outside. After dinner, he’d spend a moment in his hut, and put paper to pen, and talk to his sweetheart. 
My Dearest Jo… 
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know! A big huge thank you to @hephaestn for the stunning new mood board.
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