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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months

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Bee Stings and Butterfly Kisses || SV5

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x wife!reader Summary: Your husband takes nesting to a whole new level with the paradise he’s found to start his family. Warnings: established relationship, pregnant!reader, fluffiness WC: 1.4k

The property Sebastian had chosen to raise his children upon was everything you could have dreamt of and more. There were rolling meadows full of fragrant flowers, forests of conifers and evergreens, and even a lake with an abundance of trout. The house he had designed was built using recycled material and was sustainable to run with the dozens of solar panels on the roof. He had truly future proofed everything to live a life as environmentally friendly as possible.

“Did you know honey is the only food that doesn’t spoil if you store it properly?” Sebastian barely looked up from the old set of drawers he was upcycling into an apiary. “There were pots of honey found in ancient tombs in Egypt, around 3000 years old.”

“I still don't see why we need bees at our home.”

“Because, my love,” he said as he placed his hammer down and pulled you into his arms, “this is our future we are building. Without bees there’s no pollination, with no pollination there’s no flowers, or fruit and vegetables.” His hand splayed across your swollen belly, feeling his son’s kicks against his palm with a smile. “It’s our responsibility to protect our future.”

The outdoor sofa where you were reading was a current favourite place of yours. It was tranquil and warm and allowed you to get off your feet for a little bit while your husband pottered around in the garden. With only a few weeks to your due date everything ached from your neck to your ankles so you kicked your feet up and listened to the birdsong.

The hiss of pain was one you had come to know well recently and it only took a minute for Seb to appear at the edge of the garden, the metal gate squeaking on its rusted hinge. He cupped one hand over his cheek, one eye closed with a wince as he ascended the stairs to the deck.

“You wouldn’t get stung if you used the smoke, love,” you softly reminded him as he took a seat and pulled his hand away. “Oh dear, that’s a big one.”

“We don’t know the long term effect the smoke has on them, it could be poisoning them,” he said as he turned his head so you could use your nails to pull the stinger out without squeezing more toxin into his cheek. “They will recognise me soon and realise I’m not going to hurt them.”

“If you say so.” You loved your husband but you weren’t so sold on the trust building exercise he found himself in. More often than not after going to check the beehive you found yourself in this position, grateful he wasn’t allergic. “How is your queen doing?”

His lips pulled up into a smile and he sat down on the edge of the seat, pulling your feet onto his lap and massaging your swollen ankles. “You tell me, my sweet, how are you doing?”

Emotions swelled in your chest and you cursed as he laughed, leaning closer to wipe away the tear that escaped. “Damn these hormones. You should really stop being so nice so my poor tear ducts can have a break. Can’t you just be a jerk?” His laugh grew and with it the kicks increased. “Yes, yes, daddy’s laughing at me.”

“I would never laugh at your mother,” he chuckled, lifting your shirt to press his lips to your belly. Stretch marks littered the skin and you dared not to think about the other changes that you couldn’t see below the swell, but he still made you feel beautiful. “Everything she is going through is my fault.”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a smile. “Daddy spent a lot of time romancing and seducing me, and now here you are.”

Seb looked up, his long hair hanging in naturally soft waves around his face. “How could I not? You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I could hardly concentrate on the race after seeing you.”

“It couldn't have affected you too much,” you said as you tucked his hair behind his ear, “you still won.”

“I had to make a good impression somehow, since I could barely speak a word when we were introduced,” he admitted as he looked out over the garden he tendered.

You followed his gaze knowing he was going to be a great father considering the care he gave to the garden, and you. “It was your eyes I fell for anyway, they looked sweet and kind.”

The rows of plants were just flowering and you traced them to see the little bursts of yellows that all too soon would become bright red ripe tomatoes. Next were the beans, too many varieties to count, all climbing the trellis Seb had made from the wood of fallen trees in the forest. Further beyond were your favourites, the bushes that were brimming with berries of every flavour. Each morning you would amble your way to them with Seb and a bowl, pointing out the juiciest looking berries for him to pick for your smoothie.

Patting his good cheek, you shuffled to sit up and swing your legs off the couch.

“Where are you going?”

With a groan you pulled yourself to your feet and rubbed the straining skin at your sides. “To get some ice to stop that swelling,” you said as you pointed to his face. “You need to be able to see properly if you are thinking about getting back in a race car this weekend.”

“I can get it, you rest.” He followed you into the house even after catching the roll of your eyes and watched you struggle to bend down to reach the ice tray at the bottom of the freezer. Unable to stop himself, his hands caught your waist and straightened you up before he grabbed the tray. “I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he said with a kiss to your temple.

“I said the same thing, but you still went and got stung.”

“But that’s because I have you to kiss me better.”

You smiled at the softness in his tone and gave him the gentlest of kisses to his swollen cheek, barely the touch of a butterfly's wing. “There, is that better?”

“Yes, I don’t even need this anymore,” he said as he turned to put the tray away until you stopped him with an amused look.

“Nurburgring,” you reminded him, grabbing a tea towel to wrap the ice cubes in.

He had been excited since he got the call from Christian Horner to drive the historic track, and in a car modified to run on eco-friendly fuel no less. He was not going to do anything to miss the opportunity to return to the racetrack, even though he enjoyed retirement and the quiet life he had built in the rural settlement. So, he quietly accepted the ice pack and carefully pressed it to his cheek.

“It’s a dangerous track, Seb,” you murmured as you took over holding it, cradling his other cheek with your palm. “Please be safe and come home in one piece.”

His hands came to rest on your stomach, nearly covering it all as he splayed his fingers apart. “Of course, my love. And you need to stay in one piece until I get home.”

You giggled and felt the strong kick responding to his voice. “I have a feeling your son will take his time. Would you resort to one of those dreadful planes if he decides to come early?”

His lips twitched in amusement, used to your jibing over the consciousness of his carbon footprint. “I could probably drive home faster, with a few speeding tickets along the way, but I might be able to lower myself to boarding a plane for him.”

“Ah, that’s a father’s love,” you giggled. “He doesn’t even know what a sacrifice that would be.”

Sebastian lowered the ice pack so he could dip his head and kiss you. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the two of you.”

“Except get rid of the bees.”

His lips curled against yours in a smile you felt. “Except that.”

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #Sebastian Vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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cherrygenshin · 10 months

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Obey Me! Rut HC's - pt.2

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT. Minors DNI. Again, no special warnings, just breeding.

GN reader.

Satan

His rut is average, lasting up to a week.

He's not too big on nest building, he finds it gets too stuffy in his room with too many items in it (let's be real, it's really cause it won't fit due to all his damn books)

Actually remains kinda the same? Just touchier?

Won't let you leave his room once you enter, if you do leave he won't let you back in, no matter how desperate he gets.

Snaps VERY quickly, but will try his best to keep his cool around you. He's just so worked up, he can't handle the pressure.

In post nut clarity he will be very smoochy to you, thanking you for putting up with him and giving you the best food he can find.

He's not great at regulating his emotions at the best of times, but now instead of 'ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY' his mind is full of 'BREED BREED BREED'.

Enjoys bending you over so he can pound in to you and groan lewdly in your ear.

PLEASE scratch him up, your marks on him means he's fucking you just right, he wants to see them.

Asmodeous

Longest rut out of everyone, tbh he kinda always wants to breed and be bred so it's not that different for him.

He will seek you out the moment he feels it coming. He normally has demons lining up around the block for a chance with him, but he'll choose you over anyone else. Of course, if you're down to enjoy his rut with more people, then he's down for that too.

Prefers being bred over breeding, I HC that he's got both a juicy cunt AND a nice dick. He uses both, but definitely prefers getting his pussy filled.

You think Levi was loud? Try Asmo. He LOVES the sound of his voice, and he knows you love it too. He will moan the house down.

He's ridiculously sensitive and very bratty, will try and push you further in to him/push himself further in to you, he's very needy.

Unlike his brothers, he's actually not very clingy during his rut, and enjoys his personal space, like taking nice long baths before the next wave of horniness overcomes him.

Overall he's very casual about the whole thing. You wanna breed him? Okay. You want him to breed you? Easy done. As long as someone gets to enjoy him, he's happy.

Beelzebub

Another vote for average rut length, lasts about a week.

Enjoys making a lil nest for you and him to spend the week in, takes pride in his nest building abilities.

OKAY so, Beel wants a family. Idc what anyone says, he's a family man through and through.

Being that he wants a family, his rut hits him very hard. His desire to breed completely overwhelms him, he becomes the most animalistic out of all his brothers.

Also, BIG DICK = LOTS OF CUM

He will FOLD you like a deck chair, just to shove his cock as far into you as he possibly can.

Grunts and groans, will also grip you tight enough to leave bruises, he just loves u so much he wants to be as close to you as possible

"Gonna cum in you darling", "gonna make you a parent", "Fuck- you're gonna be so hot carrying my child."

Will literally carry you to impale u on his dick if you get too tired, he is not stopping until you're pregnant.

Belphegor

Lucky ass bitch has the shortest rut, lasting only two or so days.

Probably will sleep through it ngl wet dream city

If he happens to be awake, he won't ask for help directly, he'll just expect it.

He kinda already has a nest in the attic, won't really add much more to it. He'd rather preserve energy to be able to fuck you properly.

Another for 'I don't really want kids but damn nutting in u is kinda nice'

Gets more whiny during his rut, when he's close he'll let out the most angelic soft moans and whines you've ever heard.

Although he isn't super energetic on the best of days, being in his rut really saps all his energy. He's got a cycle of fuck, sleep, fuck, sleep.

Unfortunately you will have to feed him as he really does put his all in to fucking you, he doesn't even have the energy to feed himself afterwards.

Big on show, don't tell. He won't tell you how much he loves you (he's getting better at expressing his emotions, but he's getting better!) But the way he holds you close as he sleeps says more than words ever will.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #satan smut #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus smut #obey me beel smut #beelzebub smut #belphegor avatar of sloth #belphegor smut

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ageingfangirl2 · 5 months

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Size Does Matter! Red Hair Pirates (One Piece)

Part 1 (Never Have I Ever) Red Hair Pirates x Reader (female)

After the eventful never have I ever game the crew are nicer to you, less teasing and pranks because Shanks was right about you knowing secrets because you were kind and trusting until you were crossed.

You walk onto the deck after documenting a recent attack that went in the crew's favour, and like de ja vu the crew were gathered around. The only difference was that it was the middle of the day and they didn't seem drunk. Before you can turn around and head back inside you catch your captain's eye and he motions you over smirking.

You sigh loudly, 'What fresh hell do you have for me this time?'

You stop in your tracks and raise both eyebrows in shock and surprise, 'err why aren't you guys wearing shirts?' you question, only now noticing the bare torsos of the crew. There was never a dull day on this ship.

Shanks clears his throat, 'We need you to judge and tell us who has the best chest because you have no bias.'

You bite your lip and feel your cheeks heat up, 'and what triggered this contest?'

Yasopp slings his arm around your shoulder and it's not lost on you when he flexes, 'Honestly couldn't tell you, but now we need your help.'

You casually remove his arm and shake your head, 'I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.'

Shanks chuckles, 'We won't judge your opinion. How about a top three instead of one?'

'Make it a top five,' Hongo interjects.

You nod, 'okay I think I can do a top five. I'll start with five and work my way up to one.'

Benn snorts, 'That didn't take much convincing doll. You have been looking?'

You shove Benn and pout, 'You guys use any excuse to strip, so yes I've looked. Do you want to be taken out of my top five?'

Benn's grin reaches his eyes, 'So I'm top five, I'm flattered doll.'

Shanks frowns and sticks out his lower lip, 'This is about physique, not friendship, so no favouring smoking buddies.'

You salute your captain, 'Fine no bias, but there's no denying Benn turns heads.'

'Let's get this show on the road,' Lime Juice calls out.

You take a deep breath and try not to laugh when they line up, 'Okay starting with number five...' you pause for dramatic effect, '...Building Snake because whenever he lifts me up I'm impressed.'

Building Snake winks at you, 'I'll take five.'

The rest of the crew stares at you eagerly.

'Number four would have to be Lime Juice because he works really hard,' you say nonchalantly.

Lime Juice and Building Snake fist bump.

You smile, getting into the groove, 'taking my third spot is Hongo because he's more subtle but catches your eye.'

Hongo beams with pride, 'Only two spots left captain, do you think you've made it?'

Shanks glares at Hongo who immediately shuts up.

'My number two chest goes to my smoking buddy, I mean look at him,' you laugh.

Benn salutes you, 'I'll take second.'

You eye up the remaining crew before pointing at Yasopp, 'Yasopp has the best chest, especially when he gives me gun lessons and holds me close.'

Yasopp rushes towards you picks you up around the waist and starts to spin you around, 'for once I beat the mighty Shanks, he didn't even make the list.'

Benn pats Shanks's shoulder, 'Better luck next time captain.'

Yasopp puts you down and you stumble a little, 'do you want to know why I didn't pick you, captain?'

Shanks nods, 'tell me.'

'Because your chest is on show like twenty-four seven and you have a little too much pride that comes across as boastful,' you answer honestly.

Shanks runs at you and you yelp before running away, 'Leave me alone.'

Mischief flashes behind his eyes and you take a step back out of fear, 'I'm going to make you change your mind love. Come here and touch your captain's chest.'

Shanks chases you around the ship while the others leave you two alone knowing how the chase will end, and it ends as everyone expects with the captain catching his prey.

You giggle loudly as Shanks wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest, 'touch my chest and tell me I'm not top five,' Shanks taunts playfully.

You place your hands on his chest admitting to yourself that his chest is equally impressive as the others, 'Top six at best captain, can't show bias towards my captain.'

Shanks growls, 'I'm going to climb your ranks mark my words.'

You pat his chest and smirk, 'Game on captain.'

You knew this wasn't going to be the end of this little competition. Maybe to avoid these situations in the future you should lock yourself in your room more.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 8 months

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Home Is Where The Heart Is.

Synopsis - They say home is where the heart is. Your heart belongs to four guys you call your best friends. Also known as - four important times the boys told you they loved you.

Pairing - Frankie Morales, Will Miller, Santiago Garcia, Benny Miller x Female Reader.

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - is it weird that I have sort of compared each boy to a room in the house? maybe! but we're rolling with it, because it worked in my head. this is the first of a few fics like this, much like Tethered, Time and Tranquility - I have a few different TF boy comparison ideas. love these babies so much. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You follow the laughter floating down the hallway into your backyard. Standing against the doorframe, you watch as the boys double over in amusement while Benny reenacts the time Frankie fell in your pool. Their faces are illuminated by the golden glow of the fairy lights adorning your deck, moonlight shining down.

"And none of you helped me! Hermosa had to come and rescue me! At least I know who loves me the most," Frankie chuckles, tilting back in his chair to catch your eyes.

You make your way over and kiss him on the cheek, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I don't think there was ever any debating that. You've always been my favourite," you coo, ruffling his hair gently.

"Give us a break," Benny teases. "We all know I'm your favourite, sweetheart."

Santiago scoffs and jabs Ben in the ribs, yelping when the younger man elbows him in retaliation.

"Cariño, put them out of their misery. Tell them I'm your favourite."

You catch eyes with Will, who's grinning at you across the table. He doesn't even have to say anything. He raises his eyebrows and winks at you, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. You can't help but smile back.

"I mean, Will is currently very high on the list, because he built this table for me today."

Everyone groans as you and Will laugh, knocking on the table to check his handiwork.

"You did a good job," Frankie praises, kicking at a leg to see if it holds.

"I built your couch!"

"You can't build a couch, Ben."

"He did! It needed assembling!"

Benny blows you a kiss, thanking you for the assist.

"I did most of the painting," Santiago chimes in.

"Until your weak ass knees gave in," Frankie laughs.

Santi shoots daggers at him, both of them chuckling.

"Me and Hermosa tiled her bathroom. That took fucking forever."

"Frankie, I told you that I'd call a guy for that, and you told me you were the guy."

"You can't tell me those tiles aren't gorgeous."

You shrug, squeezing him tight.

"You're right. They are. I admire them everytime I shower."

"Ooo, tell us more," Benny teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Pervert," you and Will say in unison, both shaking your heads.

You settle into the chair next to Frankie, popping the cap off your beer.

"I honestly don't think I'd have any furniture without you guys. This house wouldn't be a home if it wasn't for you."

All of their attention is on you, focusing as if you're the only girl in the world. You feel like it sometimes, when you're all together.

"I can't believe you've been moved in for an entire year," Santi muses. "Feels like only yesterday we were helping you unpack all those boxes."

"Time flies when you're having fun," you beam at him.

As the evening settles and the sun begins its descent, you start to think about just how many parts of the boys live in your house. The furniture, the paint, the lights. At least one of them helped you with basically every single element. You think of all the memories filled with happiness and laughter that have happened here over the last year, and your eyes well with tears. You meant what you said, earlier. Your house wouldn't be a home without them.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Living Room. Benny.

You're tangled with Ben on your newly assembled couch, a cheesy romcom acting as background noise. We have to test it out, he'd said. Just in case.

So here you are, nestled into his side, strong arm slung over your shoulder to pull you closer. You sip your drink, paying virtually no mind to the movie. You're making a mental list of all of the things you still need to do for the house - tile the bathroom, buy a lawnmower, paint literally every room. But the couch is a start.

"I can hear the cogs turning in that brain of yours," he laughs, pinching your side. "We're supposed to be relaxing. You know, really getting a feel for the couch."

"Right, right. Sorry," you chuckle, nudging him with your shoulder in retaliation. "Just thinking about all of the shit I've gotta do."

"Hey, we've got plenty of time. And you've got four guys ready to do whatever needs to be done. There's no rush."

Exhaling loudly, you realise he's right. There is no rush. Yes, you may have a never ending list of things you need to get done, but there's no time limit. You can take each job as it comes.

You turn your attention back to the movie, discovering that it's actually half decent. By the time you're an hour into it, you and Benny are laughing along. It's a sweet coming of age story, two teenagers falling in love for the first time.

You watch as the two characters share a kiss, all clumsy hands and unsure touches. You smile, and start to think.

"This bringing back memories, Ben?" you tease.

"Oh yeah. First time I ever made out with a girl, I couldn't get her bra undone. I was trying to give her a hickey at the same time, and I snapped the clasp against her so hard I made her bleed. Safe to say, we didn't make out again."

Both of you are crying with laughter, vibrating the couch with it.

"I can see the image so clearly. Teenage Ben with his frosted tips and his puka shell necklace. Bet you broke some hearts, huh?"

"Shut up," he chuckles. "I got tonnes of girls back then."

"I'm sure you did," you joke, pinching his cheeks.

He pinches your thigh and pulls you closer, settling back into the cushions.

"You know, I've never had one," you say after a while.

"Had what?"

"A hickey."

Ben pulls away and turns to face you, looking at you incredulously.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Never got one as a teenager. Now I'm a grown ass adult, I always warn my partners not to leave marks. Guess I just missed out on the whole hickey thing."

Ben smiles at you, mischief rife in his eyes.

"You want one?"

You quirk your brow and turn your body towards him, putting some distance between you to look at him properly.

"What game are you playing, Benny Miller?"

He laughs, and the sound makes you smile so wide it's blinding.

"No games, baby."

"No?"

"I believe getting a hickey as a teenager and having to figure out how to cover it up in embarrassment is a rite of passage. And I'm weirdly sad you missed out on it. So, I'm offering to give you that experience."

"Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Exactly. Because I am a kind, selfless, giving guy."

You pause for a moment, watching his face carefully.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "Show me what you've got, makeout king."

He chuckles at the nickname, but grabs your thighs to pull you closer. Benny plants a knee between your legs and leans over you, using a strong hand to hold onto your jaw. You tilt your head to the side, and brace yourself for his lips.

Instead, he takes his time. He noses up your neck, and then traces the path with the tip of his tongue. He blows onto your heated skin, making you shiver. Humming at your reaction, he leans in again, and connects his lips to the spot underneath your ear, kissing it softly.

"Benny," you breathe. "Don't tease."

"Whatever you want, baby."

Benny picks a spot on the side of your neck and sucks. When he's satisfied, he grazes his teeth over the mark, and uses his tongue to soothe the sting. Your eyes roll back, and you cant your hips into his knee between your legs.

You both lose yourself in the moment, chests heaving and breath panting. You separate yourselves to look at one another for a moment, neither of you breaking the gaze.

Suddenly, you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to stop it escaping. Within seconds, Benny joins you. Before you know it, you're both crying tears of joy, sides hurting and abs aching.

"Oh shit," you choke out between giggles. "How the fuck am I gonna cover this up?"

"That's half the fun, baby!"

"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking his side. "You're the worst."

"I love you too," he grins. "You're the best."

And when the rest of the guys ask what happened the next day, you and Benny discover that you make good improv partners. No one questions your elaborate story involving the couch and a runaway screwdriver. Benny winks at you cheekily, and you can't help but smile.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Bathroom. Frankie.

Repeated knocking at your front door breaks you out of your reality TV induced haze. You check your phone for the time. 8:34pm.

You swing it open to be met with the sight of Francisco Morales. He has Ava perched on his hip, fluffy pink backpack held in his other hand.

"Hey, you guys. You okay?"

"Hermosa, I'm so sorry for just dropping in with no warning. I have a favour to ask."

"Anything."

"Can I bathe Ava here? We're having some sort of plumbing emergency in our bathroom, and we can't get a guy out until tomorrow. I want her to have clean hair for when I take her back to her Mom's."

You wink at Ava, who sticks her tongue out at you cheekily. You mimic her and smile, glancing back to her Dad, who looks like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders.

"Of course you can," you assure, reaching over to grab Ava from Frankie's arms. "Come on, baby girl. Let's get you clean!"

Frankie exhales a sigh of relief, and follows the two of you upstairs, locking the door behind him.

"Frank, did you bring shampoo and stuff, or shall we just use mine?"

He unzips the backpack and pulls out a couple of bottles.

"I have shampoo, and conditioner, but no body wash or anything."

You root around in your cabinet, finding a bottle with a label that contains words like sensitive and hypoallergenic.

"Vanilla and chamomile. Is that satisfactory for you, my princess?" you tease, grinning when Ava beams at you at the nickname.

You turn the water on and start to run the bath, trying to ignore the way you can feel Frankie's eyes on you as you bend over the tub.

"Bubbles, or no bubbles?" you ask, already knowing the answer. "Right. Stupid question."

"These tiles are hideous," Frankie says from behind you.

"Thank you, Frank. Appreciate it," you tease. "I'm gonna call a guy about getting it all retiled."

"What?"

"Don't call a guy!"

"Why not?"

"I'll do it."

You look at him in confusion, before realising he's very serious.

"Do you... know how?"

"Hermosa, it's not rocket science. We can figure it out together."

You deliberate for a moment, looking at him carefully.

"Okay. As long as you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't."

You smile at him before leaving and disappearing downstairs for a minute, trusting Frankie to watch the water.

"Where did you go?" he asks on your return.

"I just put a towel in the dryer, so it's warm when she gets out of the tub."

Frankie steps over to you and cradles your face in his hands, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. He's always been good at that - saying so much without saying a word.

"Princesa, you need help?" you ask, laughing as she struggles, head stuck in her shirt.

Soon enough, Ava's sat happily in all the bubbles, splashing around in the warm water. You and Frankie sit on the floor next to the tub, legs tangled and bodies pressed together. You lean in and rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you.

"Thank you for this. Seriously. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"It's no problem, Frankie. I love seeing her. Wish I saw her more."

"Me too," he says quietly.

You look up at him, and grab his chin so he meets your eyes.

"You're a damn good Dad, Francisco Morales."

He goes to protest, but you cut him off.

"You are. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You're doing a good job. I mean, look at her. She's happy, she's healthy, she loves you so much. What more could you ask for?"

Frankie stares at you for a moment.

"You're right."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Shut up," he laughs, dipping his hand into the bath water to splash you. You splash him back, and before you know it, the three of you are completely soaked. Completely happy.

You eventually get around to cleaning Ava's hair, shampooing and conditioning as carefully as you can. She loves the fact she gets to use your body wash, and slathers herself in it, making you both smile.

You wrap her in the dryer warm towel and sit her in your lap on the floor, rocking gently as she snuggles into your chest. Frankie pulls you both against him, wrapping his arms around you tightly. The three of you sit for a while, peaceful and content.

"I know I don't tell you enough," Frankie murmurs. "But I love you."

"You tell me everyday, Frankie."

"I do?"

"You don't always have to say it out loud, but I know. The way you smile at me across a room, the way you always have one eye on me when we're in public, the way you trust me with Ava. You tell me you love me in a million different ways, every single day."

"I love you," he says again, surer this time.

"I love you. Both of you. So much."

When Ava falls asleep in both of your arms, you convince them to stay the night. The next day, she can't stop telling everyone about the best sleepover ever, with her Dad and her best friend.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Kitchen. Santiago.

You're completely in your own world. An upbeat, catchy melody hums from the radio and radiates around the room as you slide across the tiles in your socks. You grab your mixing bowl from the cabinet, picking up the bottle of vanilla extract too.

Your hips are swaying, head nodding, feet tapping along to the beat. The sunlight is beaming through the kitchen window, keeping the room bright and warm. There's flour covering every possible surface, sugar sprinkled over the counters. An array of bowls, cups and spoons litter the worktops - a visual representation of your efforts. You've barely even began baking, only just having measured your ingredients. You've set yourself up for an entire day of preparation, ready for the exciting occasion.

You're humming away to yourself, completely oblivious, when two hands plant themselves on your hips from behind. You shriek and throw your elbow backwards, connecting with the person's ribs. You spin around to face your attacker, only to be met with the sight of Santiago Garcia hunched over.

"Fuck!" he groans, clutching at his side.

"Shit! Santi, fuck. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Welcome home to me, I guess," he laughs breathlessly.

"Are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, Santi. I thought you were an intruder or something. You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow!"

He smirks slowly, before winking at you.

"Surprise."

You finally calm your rapid heartbeat down enough to register what's happening. You grin at him, before running and jumping into his arms, holding onto him as tight as possible.

"I missed you so much," he breathes into your hair. "Four months is too long."

"I've been counting down the days," you whisper into his neck. "We all have."

He finally puts you down to take a good look at you.

"You look good, cariño. This dress is real pretty."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

He knows what.

"Looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?"

He laughs, twinkle in his eye. The sun has kissed his skin while he's been away. He looks tanned, glowy, alive.

"Last time you looked at me like that, we ended up naked in your hot tub."

"Good times, huh?"

"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking him on the arm.

Santi looks around, and takes in the scene before him. Ingredients scattered, bowls full, oven preheated.

"What are you making, cariño?"

You survey the kitchen quickly before answering.

"Nothing."

He smiles, Cheshire cat style.

"Nothing? You've measured everything out. The oven is on."

You're trying to figure out a way to cover this up, to make up a lie as fast as possible, but it's no use. He can see right through you. You might as well be transparent when it comes to the boys.

"I'm making you a cake," you mutter quickly under your breath.

"What was that? Hmm?"

You roll your eyes and scoff, but give him what he wants.

"I'm making you a cake."

He looks genuinely surprised, gentle smile gracing his face.

"You are?"

"Yeah. I wanted to do something special for you coming home. Tomorrow."

"Sorry, cariño. I didn't know I was coming back early. Thought I'd make the most of it and surprise you."

"Well, now your surprise cake and your surprise party aren't a surprise anymore."

"There's a party too?"

"Shit."

The two of you laugh as he slings an arm around your shoulder.

"Thank you, cariño. You didn't have to do all this for me."

"I wanted to. I'm so excited that you're back, Santi. There's so much I've missed doing with you."

"I made a list."

"Of?"

"Of things I wanted to do with you when I got back. It's what kept me going - thinking of going to that lunch spot with the sandwiches we like, our annual road trip to Cali. It kept me sane."

You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You lean up and press your forehead to his, both of you exhaling. You stay tangled together for a long moment, enjoying each others long awaited company.

"You know what was on the top of my list, though?"

"What?"

"Painting your goddamn kitchen."

You laugh, pulling back to look at him incredulously.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly. This colour is fucking awful."

"It's not that bad."

"It's terrible."

"Fine, fine! Whatever you want, Santi. You can paint my kitchen if that's what your heart desires."

"It is," he grins. "I can think of nothing I want more. We'll do it this weekend."

"Okay," you smile. "Now, about this cake..."

"Can I help you?"

"I can think of nothing I want more."

"I love you," he tells you, stroking a thumb across your cheekbone.

"I love you too. So much, Santi."

The two of you spend the afternoon baking Santiago's cake, singing and dancing around the kitchen. You turn a blind eye to him licking the spoon and sticking his fingers in the icing. You're just glad to have him back, annoying you again.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Bedroom. Will.

"Can you pass me that screwdriver please, honey?"

You would, but you can't take your eyes off the man currently kneeling on your bedroom floor. His chest is glistening with sweat, warm in the morning sun. The light illuminates the room in balmy hues of gold, shadows dancing across your faces.

You and Will agreed to dedicate today to building all of your flat pack furniture. You've been sleeping on the floor for weeks, and it's finally taken a toll on your back. So, Will showed up bright and early, ready to tackle your bed, dresser, nightstands, desk, and whatever else presented itself. You were barely awake, still in your pyjamas, sleep heavy in your veins. But the sight of Will, toolbox in hand and smile on his face? That's enough to motivate anyone to assemble furniture all day.

"Honey?"

"Shit, sorry. The green one?"

"Please."

He smirks at you like he's reading your dirty thoughts. He probably is, knowing him. If anyone you knew turned out to be telepathic, it'd be Will. You're convinced he was some sort of psychic in a past life.

"You okay over there?"

"Yeah, I'm good. You need a hand?"

"Come hold this up for me while I screw it in."

You shuffle over to sit next to him, leaning over to hold the piece he's gesturing towards. He's trying desperately not to look down your shirt, and you're trying desperately to ignore the way he smells like heaven.

"C'mere," he murmurs under his breath, scooting backwards so you can get closer to the bed frame. He grabs your hips and pulls you so you're sat between his legs, holding onto the wood steadily. He wraps his arms around you from behind and gets to drilling, placing the screws in perfect rows.

Every now and again, he stops to press a kiss into your hair, or onto your cheek. You smile every single time, heat creeping across your chest. He eventually changes his path, trailing the kisses down onto your neck, shoulders, back. You're breathing so heavily you wonder if you're about to pass out.

"I like this colour," he whispers into your ear.

It takes a moment for your mind to register what he said.

"...Hmm?"

"The colour on your walls. I like it."

"Oh," you murmur. "Santi helped me pick it. He was only gonna do the kitchen, but then we were on a roll, so we ended up painting every room in the house."

He chuckles, tightening his arms around you and encouraging you to relax. You lean back into him, resting your head on his firm shoulder.

"This place is really beautiful, you know," he says lowly. "It's so... you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"The best thing. Beautiful house for a beautiful girl."

"You're a smooth talker, Miller."

"I learned from the best."

The two of you sit intertwined for a while, reveling in the comfort the other person brings. After a while, Will speaks.

"Okay, strong girl, you wanna help me put the mattress onto it?"

You flex your biceps, making you both laugh.

"I mean, I could do it single handedly... but sure, I'll help you."

"That's my girl."

You both make light work of the mattress, picking it up and throwing it onto the frame effortlessly. Will helps you put on your sheets and pillows, standing back to admire his handiwork.

"We did a good job."

"You did a good job, Will. I just sat over there and stared at you the whole time."

"Thought I felt eyes on me," he laughs.

You don't know where it comes from, the sudden honesty. It creeps up your throat out of nowhere, clawing to escape.

"I'm always looking at you."

Will turns to look at you, confusion written across his face.

"No matter where we are, or what we're doing. The most interesting thing in the room is always you."

His features soften, gentle smile tugging at his lips. He strides towards you and cradles your face in his big hands.

"I love you," he tells you so sincerely it makes you want to cry.

"I love you, William Miller. My love for you is just so... overwhelming. Some days I just want to scream it from the rooftops. I don't know what else to do with it."

"Give it to me," he says without missing a beat.

"What?"

"All the love. Don't throw it into the abyss. Give it to me. I want it."

You grin at him, a bright, blinding thing. He reciprocates, before leaning down and smashing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your knees give out from the sheer love he's kissing you with, both of you tumbling to the floor.

You pull his shirt over his head, exposing his gorgeous, sun soaked skin. He's so broad it makes you clench your thighs together. He tugs your shirt off and throws it across the room, paying no mind to where it lands. The two of you don't separate your lips for more than a second.

He's rutting his hips into yours, the friction making you dizzy. You try and push his jeans down, fingers fumbling with the button. He takes pity on you and shoves them down himself, adding them to the pile of clothes scattered across the room.

Will wastes no time, throwing his boxers behind him and pulling your underwear down your legs. He pushes into you with effortless ease, both of you ready and eager. You unanimously groan in relief, panting rapidly. You claw at his shoulders, leaning up to connect your lips.

"I love you," he whispers against your mouth, hips gliding into yours.

"I love you," you gasp, resting your forehead against his. "I love you I love you I love you."

Will slides a hand down your body to rub quick circles between your legs, dipping his tongue into your mouth as he does it. He's swallowing your moans, licking the whines from your lips. He can't get over how sweet they taste.

"Come for me, honey. Give it to me, good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

You back arches off the floor, nails scratching down his back. Your vision goes white, stars clouding your view. Will groans, deep and low, spilling into you. You both ride out your highs while Will murmurs sweet sentiments into your ear, against your skin, into your mouth.

He collapses onto you, smothering you with his weight. You don't mind. Every part of your body is touching a part of his, and it still isn't close enough. It'll never be close enough. You could sew yourself into his ribcage, and you'd still want to be closer to his heart.

The only sounds that can be heard are two sets of heaving lungs. When you've snapped back to reality, you thread your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails across his scalp and smiling when he leans into your touch.

"Will?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Why did you just build me a bed, and then fuck me on the floor?"

He takes a moment to register what you've said, before breaking out into contagious laughter. He's vibrating against you, both of you high on each others company.

"I didn't even think," he wheezes. "Fuck, we're idiots."

"You can say that again," you chuckle. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Will rolls off and lies next to you, linking his fingers with yours.

"You ready to keep building?"

As much as you'd happily stay where you are forever, it would be nice to have actual furniture in your bedroom.

"Let's do it," you say as you sit up.

You scramble around for your clothes, both of you beaming at each other as you get dressed. You walk over and wrap your arms around his neck, looking up at him.

"I can't wait for you to move in."

He grins at you, pecking your lips.

"I can't wait either. Two more months and my lease is up. Then you're stuck with me forever, honey."

"I wouldn't say stuck. More like the luckiest girl in the world."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Shut up," you laugh, grabbing the toolbox. "Let's build our furniture, shall we?"

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"You've made this place really beautiful, you guys."

"Beautiful house for a beautiful girl," Will grins at you across the table.

"Ugh, I hate when they do that," Benny complains.

"Do what?"

"Look at each other like that. It's like they're communicating through their minds, or something."

"We're silently talking about you, dipshit," Will teases, jabbing his brother in the side.

"Before the Millers kill each other, we bought you a present, hermosa. Think of it as a one year housewarming gift."

Frankie hands you a large rectangular parcel, wrapped carefully. You rip open the paper, discovering a large, ornate picture frame. In it, is your favourite picture in the world.

You and Will's first dance.

Frankie had taken the picture, unbeknownst to the two of you. You're both swaying to the music, arms wrapped around your husband's neck, completely lost in each other. Around you, the lights twinkle as your closest friends and family look on in awe.

"Frankie," you breathe. "Thank you. All of you. I love it so much."

"We thought you could hang it above your fireplace," Santiago offers. "In that big empty space."

"It's perfect," Will agrees.

"It's like the final piece of the puzzle," you whisper. "Now our home feels complete."

You trace your fingers over the frame, overwhelmed with adoration for the four boys staring back at you.

"I love you all," you tell them, glancing around the table. "So much."

"Love you, hermosa."

"Love you too, cariño."

"Love ya, baby!"

"I love you, honey."

The chorus makes you beam so bright, you're convinced your smile can be seen from space.

@kmc1989 @modernperplexity @sia2raw @pimosworld

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silly4sillinger · 1 month

Text

18+ MINORS DON'T READ BELOW THE CUT Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy Pairing: Matt Rempe x Fem!reader Warnings: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it)

You walk out onto the back deck and find Matt reading with his cowboy hat on to keep the sun out of his eyes.

"Hey."

He looks up from his book when he hears you.

"Hey you. When did you get back?" He asks.

"Just now." You reply, making your way over to him.

He holds his arms out and you straddle his lap.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too." Matt says, pecking your lips before going back to reading.

You sit there content, taking a second to admire him.

You didn't know what it was about your boyfriend wearing a cowboy hat that turned you on, but it was definitely something.

Matt feels you staring and looks down at you. "Can I help you?"

"Have I ever told you how attractive you are with a cowboy hat on?"

Matt laughs, setting his book aside. "Yes, you have, but I never get tired of hearing it from you."

He leans in and kisses you softly.

You deepen the kiss, rocking your hips against him.

Matt lets out a groan and slides his hands from your waist down to your ass as you run your hands through his hair.

"Fuck, Matt." You mumble against his lips and he roughly squeezes your ass.

You continue to grind against him and can feel him getting hard under you.

Matt's hands move to undo the button on your shorts and he pulls away.

"I need to be inside you."

You nod and stand up to take your shorts off, Matt doing the same with his swim trunks.

As soon as your shorts fall onto the cement, Matt is grabbing your hand and trying to pull you back on top of him.

"Slow your roll." You tell him, straddling his lap once again.

You feel his hard on pressing against you as your hands trace the contours of his chest, stalling because you know it drives him crazy.

"You don't like when I tease you, so don't tease me."

"Who said anything about me trying to tease you?" You ask, trying to act innocent.

"I know all of your little games by now. Quit stalling." He tells you, smacking your ass which causes you to gasp.

You push your underwear to the side and line him up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him.

Matt's hands grip your hips tightly as you start to move.

You pick up the pace, resting your hands on Matt's shoulders as his hands grip your waist tighter.

His breath coming in ragged gasps as you both move in sync the best that you can.

"Holy Fuck." You moan out.

"You're so fucking pretty." He tells you, kissing you roughly.

You can feel the knot in your stomach building as Matt thrusts up from under you.

"I-I'm close."

"Me too."

You grip Matt's shoulders, feeling his muscles tense beneath your fingertips.

His movements become more urgent, more desperate, matching the rhythm of your own body's response.

Matt thrusts up from under you one last time which causes you both to reach your highs.

#matt rempe x you #matt rempe smut #matt rempe #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe x fem!reader #new york rangers

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gretagerwigsmuse · 5 months

Text

can't hardly wait

Summary: in which a guy named bradley likes you back on hinge...

OR a prequel fic with the first hinge messages

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: listen i know i have a picture selected for her, i just wanted to have the ice cream comparison and went with this one. also i have all the pics on bradley's profile if you're curious 💁🏼‍♀️ he's just so goddamn cute! written for @roosterforme 's 'rocktober' event and inspired by the replacements song. don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉 [image template (x)]

Your phone lit up with a notification, buzzing in its spot on your glass desk. You glanced down at it for a moment before going back to your slide deck - until it buzzed again. It was a Hinge notification. You hadn't been particularly active on the app the last couple days, not wanting to get your hopes up yet again. But you'd made one last ditch attempt on Hinge, liking some guys who were way out of your league - before telling Max he had the go-ahead to set you up with his buddy. Leaning back in your desk chair, you swiped up on the notification.

Oh. It was this one - the pretty one. Bradley.

You scrolled back through his profile one more time, reacquainting yourself with the 6'1" brunet. He had a picture cuddling a chunky French Bulldog, one at a Rolling Stones concert, one with an older guy who was probably his dad, and one where his eyes looked like pools of chocolate, in addition to his main photo. Unbidden, a smile crept across your face. He looked kind, sweet. Even if he didn't say where he worked.

Bradley, you tested the name out.

Without further delay, you pulled up his message:

Did you only like me because I also have a picture eating ice cream on my profile? I guess that means you're not lactose intolerant?

You let out a little giggle and twirled around in your desk chair. Oh, he was sweet (and a little nerdy). No, it's because you're unfathomably pretty and I didn't think you'd actually like me back. Trying not to overthink it, you typed out a response:

bold of you to assume it also wasn't the 'stache...and that i'm not just mainlining lactaid

It was cute, a little cheeky. He typed and deleted his response a couple times, leaving you on the edge of your seat.

How far do you have UVA going in MM this year?

You pursed your lips. Hmph. And went back to scrolling his profile. Ah, there it was - he'd also gone to UVA, though a couple years before you. He also drank, didn't smoke, and was vaccinated and bi. You swiped back to the chat.

Your allegiance to UVA in any sporting event wasn't exactly top of mind, so you had to check your March Madness bracket that everyone in the office had been forced to fill out for team building. Just has you were about to say Elite Eight! Bradley messaged back:

Sorry, that was really lame. I’m not used to this.

You smiled. that has to be a line...

His reply was instantaneous. It's not, I promise! Alright give me one more try. How's this?

In the background, your computer pinged with multiple Teams message notifications, but your eyes remained glued to your phone.

Did you know the moon's actually lemon shaped? And that the Milky Way apparently smells like raspberries and rum?

It was such a ridiculous and silly fun fact that it made you smile. Time to put all that barstool trivia knowledge to good use.

no, bradley, i did not know that. do you only specialize in space fun facts or can i get something else out of you...

----------

Turns out all it took was a smattering of the world's silliest fun facts to get you hooked, and after days of texting you were at the Hard Deck. The beachfront dive bar wasn't exactly your ideal first date location, but it seemed like there was a good crowd inside judging by the excessive number of the cars in the parking lot. As it was, your Uber let you out next to a pale blue Bronco. You smoothed your hands over your dress and checked your hair one final time before heading inside.

You didn’t really date. Not in the same sense that your friends Caroline and Darcy or even Alexa and Max did. The last person you’d gone out with for more than three dates had been your ex-boyfriend Jack and even that relationship fizzled after six months.

But there was just something about him - about Bradley - that made you think this could be something? Something about Bradley made you giggle at your phone while you read his texts and buy a new dress and get a wax for your date.

God, please like me. I hope he likes me.

The bell above the door jingled as you entered, suddenly taken aback not only by the amount of people in the bar, but also the Navy paraphernalia doting seemingly every usable surface. Jesus. Did Uncle Sam pay everyone's tab, too?

Scooting out of the way of another group entering behind you, you bit your lip and stretched your neck, looking around the bar for Bradley. What if he wasn't there? What if he saw you get out of your Uber in the parking lot and bailed? No - he wouldn't do that. The Bradley you had gotten to know over the last couple days sent you fun facts and his Wordle score. He asked about your projects at work and what you were having for dinner. He texted with full capitalization and punctuation. At the very worst, you'd hope you'd get an it's not you, it's me text from him.

But your worry was all for naught because when you got closer to the bar, you saw him. And by some sort of miracle he hadn't seen you yet, which gave you ample opportunity to ogle because you seriously needed a minute. God, he was so pretty. His hair looked lighter in person, not as brown, his arms looked so strong even in his unbuttoned light blue oxford, and that mustache? It worked. It really worked.

And he looked nervous? His knee was bouncing and he kept glancing down at the phone propped up on his knee. 7:33pm - you were late. You squared your shoulders and cleared your throat before closing the final few steps.

"Bradley?"

He spun around on his barstool at your voice. The abrupt motion caused him to almost drop his phone, but it made you smile. Once his eyes settled on you it was like everything stopped. The bar got quiet, you didn't notice the girl next to you complaining about her drink, and the hockey game on TV faded into the background - you just noticed Bradley.

A smile crept across his face as he said your name in turn and you nodded. Your stomach was going crazy with butterflies and your heart was pounding so hard, you were convinced Bradley could see the outline through your pink dress. His voice was warm and raspy and had your insides turning into honey.

"It's nice to see you - " He gave you a full hug that was over far too soon. God he smelled so good, too. "- Here, have a seat. Do you want a drink?"

"You too." You took his hand and got on the barstool, placing your clutch on the table and glancing around the bar. "Ummm, what're you having?"

"An old fashioned - sorry," he shook himself and glanced back down at his drink sheepishly, "you just look really pretty."

You cheeks warmed under his stare and you bit your lip. If your knee nudged his underneath the bar-top then that was just an accident. "Thanks, I'll uh - I'll have a margarita?"

Bradley was either really smart or really lucky when he ordered your margarita with your preferred tequila - you only had to pipe up to request salt on the rim.

And then it was just easy. Everything just fell into place. You talked about your time at UVA - he even got you to admit that you were a Tri-Delta after he admitted to being Sigma Chi philanthropy chair -your favorite restaurants and neighborhoods in San Diego, and your job, which Bradley endearingly thought was fascinating - something you wouldn't exactly agree with, but it was flattering all the same.

And it was only because of the easy conversation and banter between the two of you that you finally felt comfortable bringing up your most burning question all evening:

“So, what’s with the bar?” you asked, looking around with a teasing smile on your face. Bradley cocked his head. “I mean, is it just me or is like every naval officer within a forty mile radius here?”

And then the night took a turn...

don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉

a/n: so this was just something small to tide me over before i post my next fic about thanksgiving! hope you all liked it!

#bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley and smart aleck #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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arthenaa · 4 months

Text

ikaw at ikaw (only you) — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: 4 times your team lead chose you and 1 time you chose her.

content: modern!au, office romance, you and mizu are creatives, specifically in the character and concept design department in a very very famous gaming company (take a guess), she is your creative director and lead designer and you are the concept artist, 4+1 format, FLUFF, work relations, dynamic, and position might not be accurate, forgive me, this is basically just me projecting yet again.

a/n: this is requested by @andieperrie18 ! the answer shit isn't letting me edit my answer so ill be @-ing you here. TYSM FOR ENJOYING MY WORKS !! means a lot ... u also chose pasilyo 🥹🥹🥹🥹 sunkissed lola is the best

Being part of the creatives team was a nightmare.

To tell you the truth, the position for a Concept Artist with a specialty in 2D design wasn't actually all that bad. The monthly benefits and wage were something you're quite lucky to receive considering the constant side eye other departments have with the admin's treatment of the artist employees. This was also your dream job—having had to play their games, specifically, VALORANT, left you in awe and gearing to apply once you were ready for an Internship. After your OJT course, you were accepted for a position in Character and Concept Design and are considered one of the team's most beloved artists (Your followers on Twitter reckon so).

In short, the work environment was great. A solid 15/10 experience—I mean how can you beat a company that caters not only to you as an artist but also as a player? Nothing can beat that feeling of satisfaction once you see your work displayed on various monitors all around the world.

It was more of ... the relationships and interactions with that work space environment that left you grasping at a chance to breathe.

People think you're overreacting but you think it's completely reasonable.

"Yes, you are overreacting."

Your face falls at Taigen's words—watching as he plays a round of unrated in the company's leisure space decked with state of the art PC builds that could definitely beat your poor touchscreen fridge with just a move of its mouse. You could hear the familiar voicelines of Jett from VALORANT as he uses the character's abilities to swiftly enter the site and take a hold of the defenders' positions.

Taigen is part of the Gaming Development Department in the VALORANT Team. He often does routine user gameplay checks and one of its perks is that you literally just have to play the game and get paid for it. You think its unfair but then again, its Taigen. He's always unfair.

"I think you're just saying that to be mean," You frowned, eyes trained on his face—the lights reflecting back on his stupid, stupid, clear-skinned face. Taigen rolls his eyes but not an ounce of his focus leaves the game.

"Being honest equals to being mean, got it." Taigen's voice comes out in a sarcastic tone. You kick a speck of dust on the cement floor, twirling in the gaming chair you're seated on.

"I just think its a reasonable thing to complain about!" You throw your hands in the air in an attempt to get him to look at your side of things. "You're completely unfazed because your team lead has the patience of a mother with 7 kids."

You hear the familiar cue of an ACE kill as Taigen hits a headshot on the last player. The game's interface shifts to the winner screen and finally, he turns to you, pulling his headphones off and giving his best deadpan stare.

"You're freaking out over Mizu sighing over your concept design proposal for Neon and overanalyzed even the way she drank her coffee because you're obsessed with her like that." Taigen arches his eyebrow to make the situation all the more ridiculous. Your mouth closes and opens like a fish out of water. "Am I right? Wait no, don't answer that. I know I am."

"What the fuck?" Your voice comes out in a desperate attempt of self-defence but it ultimately just sounds defeated. Taigen chuckles as he turns back to his monitor to take a look at the game stats.

"Look," Taigen tries to be empathetic but you're pretty sure this is just to get you off his back. The queue for competitive is already up and running. "As your friend, I say this with the love that I have for you and your works but please, Mizu is just one woman. If my mind process went like yours, I would've assumed Akemi hated my very existence and this is coming from someone who IS dating Akemi."

You purse your lips in thought as he raises his eyebrows in exaggeration. You're not exactly sure why you approached Taigen with this problem but he was the only familiar face that you saw after walking out of the meeting room in a hurry.

But then the question in this situation is who exactly is Mizu?

Well, there were a lot of things you could associate with the familiar blue-eyed director. Mizu is your boss—the creative director for Concept and Character design for the VALORANT team. She oversees character ideas, map visuals, detailing, and the final approval for character and asset ideation before it's sent for building in the 3D and VFX departments. She is your employer but you can also consider her your friend, albeit a highly respected one (she did the character design for Jett and Yoru).

It's not that you were obsessed—Taigen is wrong, he's always wrong—it was definitely because you respected her very much. Being a Riot Design Lead is basically fucking God. You create and give life to ideas. She's part of the original team that worked on the pre-release of VALORANT during its early stages and got to see the whole thing unfold. Something you wished to see back then but glad that you were able to become part of the journey despite being a few patches late.

You respected her enough to always want to be on her good side. I mean, who wouldn't? She's talented and very... youthful-looking and one of Riot's youngest leads, you honestly think that being worried over her approval like this is just a matter of respect and definitely NOT obsession.

"You're doing that thing where you space out and I have to assume that it's probably because of Mizu, yeah?" Taigen's voice intercepts your reprieve and suddenly, a curl of your eyebrows creates a look of annoyance on your face.

"I am not obssesed with Mizu," You reiterate, but this time with your mouth. "I just... respect her."

Taigen leans back on his gaming chair, nodding as if you just told him that he didn't need to double double-click everything.

"That's the most unbelievable shit I've heard today," Taigen finally replies with a scrunch of his nose. Your jaw falls open.

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too!"

"Do fucking not—Stop it."

Taigen purses his lips, and makes a motion of zipping his mouth and shaking his head. You huff in anger. Taigen was never going to believe you.

Just as you were about to chastise him again for being mistaken, a knock on the glass doors notifies you of a new presence. You turn by instinct and your eyes widen in shock and probably, dread—who knows.

"There you are," Mizu's voice filters through your ears like classical music on a good Friday evening. You stammer slightly as she enters the area, eyes trained on you through those tinted orange specs. Mizu momentarily greets Taigen who only raises his hand in greeting before turning towards the screen (only you can see through your peripheral vision that this motherfucker is laughing). "I've been looking for you."

"You did?" Your voice comes off quiet. Mizu furrows her eyebrows.

"Uh, yeah?" She replies with a confused tone. "I had your concept design for Neon approved, it was more direct compared to Matt's. I wanted to tell you in person since you just bolted from the meeting room."

You fall silent at her words. She looks a bit concerned as you try to make sense of the information.

"You seem in shock—Are you okay?" Mizu asks, eyes glancing towards Taigen who looks at her before shrugging.

You feel your heart speed up. You momentarily calm yourself before finally responding. "Y-Yeah, sorry. Just didn't think that you'd approve it."

Mizu tilts her head like a fucking cat and you're quite sure you would drop dead then and there. "Why not? It's your work."

You're not sure what she means by that but a sudden shiver runs through your veins at her praise and suddenly your cheeks are flushing.

"Ah," You're voice fills in the silence, awkward and quiet. "Thank you?"

There's a pause of silence before Mizu chuckles. She heaves a breath before pulling the glass door open.

"I'll see you at my office, Y/N." She smiles. "Great work."

The silence further pushes you into the void as you and Taigen watch her exit and disappear into another hallway through the glass windows. Just as you were a few minutes ago, you lean forward to slouch over your knees, hands on your face as you meltdown from what just happened. You hear Taigen chuckle beside you.

"Give it a few more months and she'll give you a ring on your finger with a bent knee on the ground."

You sob into your hands as Taigen erupts in heaps of laughter.

Oh my fucking God.

The release for Neon was a hit. An all-time new duelist originating from the Philippines, your concept design took off without a hitch. It's safe to say that your hard work paid off as you stood over the central common room—leisure areas decked with your coworkers trying out and celebrating the release. A sense of satisfaction fills you.

"I hear you spearheaded the design concept for Neon," A voice infiltrates your sense like a lure. You can't help but smile at its familiarity. Akemi wraps her arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder as she continues. "Marketing was thrilled with the positive response. Good job."

You turn around, her arms loosely accommodating you. "Akemi," you coo.

The girl grins wide and pulls you into a hug. You return the affection in a grander gesture of squeezing her tight against you.

Akemi's part of the Marketing Department for Riot. While she often creates publication material for VALORANT, she also has cross work with League of Legends for its various strategic releases (ie. KDA).

"I just want to say that I already predicted Neon would be a sure hit, it's your work after all," Akemi pulls away from the hug with a smug smile. She grabs your hands in hers, swinging them slowly. "Marketing it was like a breeze in the park."

You laugh softly at her enthusiasm. "You give me way too much credit."

Akemi rolls her eyes affectionately. "Humility is a disease—live a little."

You shake your head at her quips, opting to smile in response. A member of your team passes by, eyes widening in recognition of you before giving you a thumbs up. Akemi watches the interaction—eyes trained on that person's figure as they walked towards Mizu who was busy talking to other creative team leads. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at her prolonged silence.

"Who are you—?" Your words trail off as you turn to look at what she's so focused on before turning back at the sight of Mizu. "Nevermind."

Akemi raises her eyebrow with an amused look on her face. "Taigen always has a penchant for exaggerating but I didn't think it was this bad?"

Your face falls at the information. "Taigen told you?"

Akemi gives you a 'duh' look—eyebrows raised and eyes half-lidded. "Taigen's a loose lock if you pry hard enough. He basically can never keep a secret."

You give her a deadpan stare before shifting in your position. Akemi crosses her arms over her chest as she eyes you up and down—filled to the brim with amusement. "I'm fine, stop making a big deal out of it."

"Uh huh," Akemi squints her eyes playfully. You could only glare back in response.

The loud cheering at the front catches your attention as resident workers, interns, and newbies alike begin to tune in at the commotion. Akemi and you move to the sidelines, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you tried to find out what's happening.

"What's happening?" You ask the person to your front. He turns, eyes beaming with excitement.

"The creative director for C&C got pulled in a 1v1. They're playing against Beckham."

Your breath hitches at the information. Akemi nudges you with her elbow, overhearing the conversation. The two of you move to the side, finally getting a glimpse of the two team leads focused on a custom game of VALORANT. Your eyes zone in on familiar raven locks seated on the right monitor.

A live stream of their game is projected on the monitor up front and suddenly you feel sick from the amount of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

She's playing Neon. The character you designed.

Oh God. You watched her take kill after kill, headshot after headshot as she sprinted across the map—zapping characters with Neon's electric abilities. You've never seen someone look so fucking hot playing an FPS game before. It's doing things to your brain.

Just as you expected, the winning banner appears on Mizu's screen and the C&C Team erupts in cheers. You become entranced at the sight—a few of your co-workers patting her on the back before she erupts in smiles and laughs. This is not healthy for your heart.

And just as you think the night couldn't get any better, one of the people from the Marketing departments begins stirring up an interview.

"What made you choose Neon on the character pick? You usually go for Sentinels, no?"

Your eyes meet and suddenly you could feel your heart skip a few beats. Mizu chuckles.

"Wanted to do a duelist around for a spin," Mizu replies. "The design and character visuals for Neon was amazing and I ought to pay the artist who did it a homage."

Suddenly all eyes are on you—some of them even "ooh-ing" for being praised by Mizu. You pale at the attention before doing a hesitant bow in gratitude.

Mizu pulls the headphones off her head and smiles. "Congrats, Y/N. Hope you liked the win."

You feel Akemi stir up beside you, chuckling at the interaction.

You're going to die. You can feel it and its all because of your boss.

Okay, maybe admitting that you were a little bit obsessed and crushing over your employer was a bit overdue. You weren't exactly the type to parade your feelings around the office but if people were to zone in on you acting sheepish and awkward around Mizu, there was a 55% chance that you could tell based on that alone.

It wasn't like your admiration for Mizu started on a whim. As said countless and countless times, it had a foundation of respect until Mizu started trying to get to know and interact with you and those same feelings of admiration started to change. What else were you supposed to do? Mizu is a fucking all-in-one holiday basket—you didn't have it in you to resist the charms.

It also didn't help that over the past few days, Mizu seems to have her undivided attention on you. Showering you with praises, asking if you wanna spearhead a certain project, revel in your work—all that shit. It's messing with your productivity and mindset and that's not a good idea.

The Head Director for the VALORANT Team had decided to call a night out for drinking to reward the team for the positive feedback for the latest patch. You were quite thankful for the opportunity as this was a way for you to get a moment of rest from Mizu's constant attention. Not that you were complaining, it's just a little... too much.

You were seated at the far right booth of the restaurant, keeping to yourself as you watched Ringo and Taigen begin to have a debate about team composition. Akemi grumbles beside you, clearly not enjoying whatever the fuck these two were talking about.

"Look," Taigen holds his hands out in front of him, trying to make a point. "All I'm saying is if you keep putting DPS builds on your team comp, how in the hell will you be able to maximize their kit? Supports are there for a reason."

Ringo rolls his eyes. "It's called enjoying the game, Taigen. So what if I want to put dick 1, dick 2, and dick 3, together?"

Taigen's jaw drops. "Do you know how much skill point dependent they are? I'm even surprised you could bust a skill out." The raven haired man pauses before continuing with a face contorted in disgust. "And stop calling them dick 1,2,3? It's Dan Heng, Blade, and Jing Yuan."

"Of course you'd police that as well. You look like that fucking emoji." Ringo raises his prosthetic hand, imitating pushing up a pair of glasses. "Um, actually—"

"You are as annoying as my grandmother, do you know that?" Taigen snarls, eyes pulled into a glare. Your tall huggable co-worker only grins and bats his eyelashes.

You begin to tune out the two as Akemi excuses herself to take a cigarette break—already having enough of their banter. You eye the glass of beer in front of you, watching as the liquid sloshes around with each twirl of your wrist.

You had hoped to end the night with silence but alas, you can never get everything that you wanted. You feel a pair of eyes on you—direct and unashamed. Already having a feeling on who this was, you looked up and met the reflection of the ocean.

'You okay?' She mouths, concern overflowing her features. It's subtle enough for people to not notice her sudden shift of attention but enough for you to understand her. Your cheeks flush as you nod back with the same softness that she had thrown your way.

She nods in understanding, sending a soft smile your way before turning back towards her conversation with the Head. You hang your head down, wishing that the night would end faster so that you can finally have the moment of peace you have been wanting ever since this morning.

It was as if the world decided to cast hell upon you and revoked you of your rights to peace at the arrival of yet another problem.

"L/N!" The Head Director's voice encompassed the whole area—eyes turning towards him then at you in amusement. "You're one of the star employees and yet you haven't touched a single speck on that glass of yours!"

His hearty laughter follows—giggles and cheering from you co-workers following suite. You sweat drop, eyes darting to Taigen and Ringo who both looked away at your glare before turning towards the window where Akemi sends you a gracious thumbs up, a cigarette hanging from her lips. You groan.

"I-I'm fine," You wave your hand, laughing it off. Your eyes connect with Mizu, an unreadable look on her face as she takes a sip of her chosen beverage.

God decides to punish you more as the team lead beside Mizu chimes in. "Oh c'mon! You're a great asset to the company! I suggest drink up!"

One of your team members passes a full pint of beer as the others begin to urge you to drink up. You hadn't felt the intensity of peer pressure ever since your dance recital on 10th grade and that wasn't even as half bad as this. You weren't feeling on drinking yourself to death as well so trying to down a full pint of beer was a ticket for you to the afterlife (ie. you on your bed with puke all over the floors). The previous pint you had was enough.

You tried to decline as humbly as you could, afraid that this might be the instance that you could finally be fired off from Riot. You knew that if they kept pushing a 3rd more of their attempts that you'd probably give in for the sake of never doing this again but while the need hasn't yet arisen, you'll try fighting off the urge to be a people-pleaser.

Just as you finally begin to decline for the nth time, a hand emerges to your right—pushing the pint of beer in your co-worker's hands. The table falls silent. Your breath falters as the familiar scent of lavender and probably a hint of sunlight begins to seep in from behind you.

"Stop pressuring her like that," Mizu's voice sounds so close —your heart hammering off your chest. Your co-worker gives Mizu a sheepish smile.

"C'mon Mizu, let your team live a little!" The Head laughs once more before leaning forward with a smug smirk. "Unless you'll save this one yet again?"

There's a pause of silence as your co-workers darted between them—back and forth. You feel Mizu sigh behind you before her arms encase you against the table, one arm placed on the beside you each. Your breath hitches.

"Sorry," She mutters as she reaches for the pint. You stammer, turning towards her as you reach out to her wrist by instinct. Mizu blinks with her eyes wide open, suddenly surprised by your actions.

"Y-you don't have to!" You murmured, trying to keep your voice low. Mizu's eyes are unreadable. "You don't drink—!"

The woman chuckles before patting your hand and gently pulling herself off your grasp. "It's okay." She says.

You watch with stammering breath as she gulps the pint in one go, others cheering as she did. The Head claps.

"Didn't expect to see Mizu downing a beer today but here we are," The man bellows in laughter. Mizu chuckles, wiping the residue off her lips. You could only stare at her in shock.

Mizu glances down at you with a smile before patting your head then walking off. Your gaze trails on her and somehow the hammering within you becomes all the more intense.

Oh, Lord.

It was supposed to just be a little game—a past time that the others decided to force you along. You really had no qualms joining games like this but if it concerns the people around you, especially in your work place, somehow you feel the risk of being outed for liking someone in you work space.

"If you guys wanted to date someone in the office, who'd you pick?" Ise leans forward, eyes squinted as she gives you and Akemi a smirk. The three of you were currently lounging in the cafeteria during you lunch break. There weren't many people present due an event going on in one of the building's sectors, so having a conversation like this somehow was less anxiety inducing.

"Taigen, unfortunately," Akemi deadpans. Ise rolls her eyes.

"I mean! Besides him," Ise whispers excitedly. "There's a newbie from marketing that looks cute but kinda quiet, maybe he's nice."

"You mean Takayoshi?" Akemi raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip of her tea. You glance back and forth between them.

"Is that his name?" Ise watches Akemi nod in response. "Well, I'll just have to go get his number then."

Akemi shakes her head at Ise's musings and you had hoped that the conversation would end there, but Ise suddenly turns to you with that mischievous look in her eye.

"What?" You whisper out, eyebrows furrowed in innocence. Akemi side glances you, the corners of her lips upturned in a smile. God, she was enjoying this too.

"What about you, Y/N?" Ise props her arm on the table, placing her cheek on her palm. "Got someone you're interested in?"

You avoid eye contact. "No."

Ise leans forward with a gasp. "You do!"

"I don't!" You reiterate with urgency. You turn to Akemi with a frantic stare. "Tell her I don't."

Ise turns to Akemi who smiles. "She doesn't."

"Bullshit." Ise deadpans. "The moment I'd believe Akemi with a smile on her face is the moment I'd die," Akemi flashes her middle finger at her to which Ise returns generously. Finally, the girl turns to you—chair scooted over to your right as she flashes you her doe eyes. "So? Who is it?"

You Akemi chuckle against her cup as you stammer in front of Ise. "I don't really like someone though?"

"Lies," Ise declares. "We might not be that close but you got that twitch in your eye that already tells me something. Who is it?"

"Ise," You plead, eyes darting around the space. Somehow, saying it out loud meant that you're solidifying the fact that you liked Mizu—an occurrence you'd like to keep to yourself as much as possible. You loved Ise, you really do. You worked with her hand in hand in bringing Neon to life (You worked on her design while she worked on the 3D build) and have become tremendously grateful for her critique and contributions to your work. But this, this was something else. You could feel your heart speed up as she started listing some names.

"Is it Beckham? That piece of shit always too full himself." Ise places a hand on her chin in thought. "Or Ringo? Nah, he's way too focused on content map-building."

There's a pause of silence before an 'aha!' look spreads through her face. You prayed that she would get it wrong but this is Ise we're talking about.

"Is it perhaps," Ise pauses, eyes darting all over your face. "Mizu—"

"What about me?"

The three of you tense, eyes darting behind you as you turn to find the familiar stance of your boss. She leans forward, a hand on the back of your chair as she gives the three of you a curious glance. You hadn't heard her at all, and something about Ise's frantic glance towards you says she didn't expect the same thing as well.

"W-we we're just listing people we found attractive," Ise laughs uncomfortably under Mizu's stare. The creative director glances at Akemi who raises an eyebrow at her. Somehow there was a silent conversation going on between the two that left you confused.

"Really?" Mizu asks, the ends of her words trailing off as she glances back at Ise. "Who said I was attractive?"

"It was Y/—"

"NO ONE!" You exclaimed, cutting Ise off with a jump. You flush under Mizu's wide gazed, surprised at your interference. Somehow, the way you said it implied that no one found her attractive at all, and that was way too wrong so you caught yourself before you delved into a pit of despair. "I mean, w-we haven't started and was just listing people off."

Mizu nods slowly in understanding, eyes examining your face for any slip-ups. You looked away from the intensity.

Ise finally saves your ass. "Yeah. What she said."

"What about you, Director?" Akemi chimes in from your left and both you and Ise turn to her with wide gazes. She simply smiles over her cup, face contorted in a mischievous look. You couldn't read Mizu at all. You had expected Akemi to drop it—after all, she wasn't even joining in on Ise's incessant need to know everything about everyone. "Who do you find the most attractive in this office, hm?"

You can feel Mizu shifting behind you before a chuckle pulls out from her lips. You turn towards her in curiosity as she flashes a smile towards you.

"I'd pick Y/N, of course,"

Huh?

Akemi rolls her eyes, somehow already expecting the answer. Your jaw drops at her response as Mizu turns to Ise who already has a knowing look on her face.

"She's just that reliable," Mizu looks back down towards you, those shades of blue peeking from her tinted glasses. She pinches your cheek in a flash before pulling away. "Cute too."

You turn away, afraid that the flush on your cheeks might've given you away.

"Anyways, I just dropped by to see what's happening outside the event," Mizu sighs, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "I'll see you girls around."

Your interactions always end up one sided somehow. She gives and then leaves—resulting in you malfunctioning from whatever she's left for you to deal with.

Ise turns to you with a mischievous grin when Mizu finally turns the corner. "You and the Director huh?"

"Shut up, oh my God."

"Why do you always do stuff like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're not leaving me any room to process the shit you do?"

Mizu lets out quiet laughs from beside you. 10:47 pm. Normally, work hours in the office end at about 9 but you've learned that staying late is where the good things happen.

"I literally just told you 'good job' the other day and you malfunctioned in front of me," Mizu giggles, leaning forward as she tapped you on the nose with the pen to her digital tablet. "And I heard everything by the way. Quite adorable of you to deny everything."

You flush under her affectionate gaze. "Everyone's so gossipy. You can't blame me."

Mizu turns her chair towards you, arms reach out to take a hold of your own before pulling them close to her side. You lean back at her sudden proximity.

"Well you can't blame me either when you're this adorable," Mizu grins. You furrow your eyebrows, finally leaning close as you cupped her cheeks within your palms.

"You even drank beer," You whisper, tone apologetic. "You don't even like alcohol."

Mizu leans into your touch. "And you don't like being pressured into something you don't want to do. I can sacrifice a little bit of something I don't like just for you."

You melt at her words, eyes darting over her softened features. "Thank you," You whisper, grateful.

"Anything for my girlfriend," Mizu teases. You roll your eyes before pulling her into a soft kiss. She kisses back instantly, hands gripping the arm chair as you take lead of the kiss. After a few pecks and chaste kisses here and there, you finally pull back—reveling in the soft flush across Mizu's cheeks.

"Also," You chime in. Mizu raises an eyebrow. "I was the one who pursued, not you. Correct that when they catch on."

Mizu chuckles at your words. "Right on. Akemi threatened me the other day, saying something like, 'I forbid you from dating Y/N Y/L/N, Mizu Tagawa!' Funniest shit, I've heard. If only she knew."

You pinch her cheeks, giggling at her words. "Of course, she's say that."

There's a pause of silence before Mizu turns to her work, a sketch of VALORANT's newest agent displayed on screen.

"Want to help me with the new guy?" She nudges towards the screen. "Heard he's French."

You turn to her monitor, dozens of details sketched on the edges with a version of her idea of the new agent. You grin, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"You could've just asked me to marry you." You tease. "Also, sure."

You turn towards the table and pulled her tablet towards you. Mizu scoffs as you take over her work.

"And if I actually did?"

"Sure, Mizu, sure."

"I'm serious!"

a/n: hey guys!!! this was so fun to write and honestly i was just inspired to do this request bc ive been drafting an office romance for mizu after the roommate thing. hope yall enjoyed ! if yall arent familiar with valorant, here are the agents mentioned or referenced (neon & chamber (french guy)). also mizu's last name is derived from master eiji's va! cary-hiroyuki tagawa!

#arthenaa #mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu bes #the blue eyed samurai x reader #the blue eyed samurai

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cowboyjen68 · 4 months

Note

Hi Jen, sorry for dumping a big rant in your askbox but your blog has helped me figure out my identity and I don’t have anyone to talk to about this in real life lol. Feel free to delete if this is too weird.

So I’m a 17 y/o butch, and I have been masculine since I was a little kid. I always felt lucky to have a family that was generally okay with my gender nonconformity. They treated it like a cute quirk of mine, and I never felt like I was being judged or that I should change the way I am around them. My dad got a kick out of it. One summer he let me help him build the deck in our backyard. He always took me to baseball games, he dressed me up in his old clothes, basically treated me like I was his son and I loved it.

I feel like as I get older, my masculinity becomes less acceptable. I went to visit my paternal grandmother for the holidays, hadn’t seen her in a few years, and the first thing she said to me was “I thought you would’ve grown out of all that by now” (in reference to my haircut and outfit, I think.) I just don’t know how to react to the way my extended family treats me now. They used to be totally fine with it, but I spent my entire Christmas feeling like I was being judged for every little thing.

Like, what’s changed? Why is it cute and funny when a little girl wears boy’s clothes and wrestles with her cousins, but disgusting when I grow up and settle into my masculinity?

It’s like I’ve crossed the invisible line between being a tomboy and being a dyke, and now no one wants to entertain it anymore.

Again, sorry for the rant haha, I just feel like I’m going crazy because I tried to talk to my sister about it and she said she didn’t notice them acting any different, but I swear my aunt spent half of our Christmas dinner telling me how pretty I would be if I just wore a bit of makeup lmaoo. I’m just wondering if anyone else has experienced this, because I’m feeling pretty lost right now. Thanks, and happy holidays!

It is not weird at all. I hear that young lesbians, particularly butches, do not have older role models to bounce ideas off of or vent or get any perspective on certain experiences. Moms and Dads and straight sisters and cousins, no matter how well meaning, will just not always "get" what is happening. They say things like "we love you no matter what" and "we don't care if you are a lesbian" and they mean it, mostly. But they often don't see the subtle clues (or blatant ones)they toss around that indicates how uncomfortable they are with you being so visible, but just existing as you naturally are.

AND OH MY GOSH yes I have experienced exactly what you are talking about with the deepening judgement as you move from a cute little Tomboy to an adult butch women. It is almost like they hope to "catch it early" when we are in our teens and redirect us away from the "danger" of being a visible lesbian. And a woman who does not, in very overt ways, conform to their idea of how a woman should be and act.

My dad was relatively consistent in treating me pretty much like he would a son and, to his credit, he did so with my straight sister. We were allowed to do just about anything my older brothers did. In part because my sister was pretty strong willed but also a lot like him. I was less strong willed but she had mowed the path.

Mom was the one who was forever concerned about my looks and behavior, both out of worry I would not fit in, and because she had a certain expectation of how her daughter should grow up. Both normal Mom reactions. She understood bullies and knew that sticking out could be difficult. Her solution was not to strengthen my resilience but to attempt to "tone me down". Her efforts increased as I made the jump from kid to teen and into my late teens. She would discourage me from cutting my hair, becoming almost angry when I brought it up. She would tell me how lovely I was in dresses and skirts and say thing like " a little make up would be nice". It got really old. It lead to us not always getting along even though I loved and respected my mom. She was a great mom. But this one thing made us both crazy. She could not cool it and I could not change who I was.

Friends at school saw hints of my liking girls. I stopped wearing cowboy boots and my favorite horse buckle and it their place went with K Mart Tennis shoes and a generic belt that came with my pants, again, from Kmart. I put away the cowboy fringed shirts and flannel and went with simple jeans and sweatshirts, the acceptable attire for boys and girls in my rural high school. I kept my hair long to disguise my "looking like a boy" traits.

I (barf) agreed to date a boy and spent the better part of that time making excuses to not kiss him or spent time with him. I was starting to listen to mom and do my best to hide ME from the world. Anything (with in reason) to throw the world off the scent, the scent of me being a lesbian. Being butch made that one more step difficult.

It is hard to hide the space we take up naturally.

It might seem hard to see it now by your family is slightly well intentioned, knowing that being "seen" easily as a lesbian can be dangerous. But also, they are uncomfortable with your energy and physical presence because it does not coincide with their ideas of what a woman acts, feels and moves like. This is a THEM problem and I can give you words of comfort based on experience.

The more you begin to be you, and dress in what gives you comfort the more your confidence will grow and be evident. People who are emboldened to try and change you for their own comfort tend to back way off when there is no opening for their opinions. They just sort of realize they are wasting time. AND for those that don't, there are always a few, you don't have to give them any air or acknowledgement. You get to let them waste time and energy while you look great in whatever you wish to wear and however you wish to cut your hair. And in a wonderful turn around, you don't have to spend any effort just being you or trying to defend or correct them.

You are fast approaching adulthood and with that will come even more freedom and independence. Don't rush it but also, work towards that.

#butch #lesbian #family #unwanted opinions of family

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astyrial · 6 months

Text

casanova captain bradley bradshaw x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: there's a new pilot in town word count: 1.4k warnings: drinking, c/s = callsign masterlist | requests are open

it's your third day in san diego, well really, on the naval air station north island base. there isn't much you know of the area, let alone the local bars and restaurants. however, a name catches your attention upon hearing so many of your colleagues discuss it during a training activity. the hard deck, a well known bar for many navy officers, seems rather welcoming to newcomers.

so, in an attempt to integrate yourself into the area (despite the anxiety ridding your veins), you decide to make your way down there. in an outfit that doesn't exactly exude 'naval officer', you jump onto your electric bike and ride through the base's gate. the streets are packed for the evening, leaving you to take your time.

you park your bike, buckling your helmet to the seat. the sky is filled with sea salt smells and clouds that roll across the ocean. a soft sigh passes your lips as you look around for a second. the hard deck's parking lot is nearly filled with cars and motorcycles, a few people still packing into the building.

your brain rattles with whether or not you should head inside, however, that little voice telling you to go for it, overrules the common sense. just as another car pulls into the parking lot, you make your way into the building. it's nearly packed full with only a few open spots still at the bar.

in an attempt to grab yourself a drink, you weave through the crowd and make your way to the bar. the bartender is moving back and forth between people and pouring more beer. she has a rather soft and sweet smile on her face despite the rush. you take a seat on one of the stools and grab your wallet.

after freeing herself from hoards of navy officers and college students, she finally catches you across the bar. "you're new here," is the first thing she says, something that you never would've imagined she would know.

"sharp eyes, it's my first week at the base."

"well, aren't you lucky then, because your first drink is on me. i nearly never forget my patrons, so, what'll you have darling?" she- penny, as her name tag suggests, leans against the bar's wood paneling.

you raise your eyebrows in surprise, shrugging your shoulders. drinking was never a huge thing within your family, something you never quite got into, "um, how about you pick your favorite beer, and i will have that! thank you."

penny clearly takes a liking to your short 'thank you', her warm smile becoming a little more genuine. you wait for a minute as she looks over the selection, your eyes looking around nervously at the crowd. a couple of the officers were in your class earlier in the day. meanwhile most of the patrons were completely absent from your memory.

what doesn't help is someone grabbing the free seat beside you, his cologne strong. it wafts through the air until it reaches your nose. you turn away for a second, trying to breathe in a semblance of fresh air. when you turn back, penny is making her way over, two beers in hand.

"one for you and one for the regular," she sets them down, your eyes looking over at the so called 'regular'.

the first thing you notice is the bright hawaiian shirt and the prominent mustache lining his upper lip. he looks over at you as well, however, his eyes return to the bottle in front of him rather quickly. you nod slightly, giving penny a smile to show your thanks. she takes a few steps away to catch another person asking for a drink.

you take a quick drink from the bottle and wonder if coming was the best decision. you have no one to talk to, and you certainly don't know what to do as you awkwardly drink. plus, a lot of people at bars are not exactly people you tend to-

"good beer choice, usually the pretty ladies go for something a little different. are you navy or something?" his whole body turns so that it's facing you.

you finally get a good look at him when you turn as well, your eyebrow raised in surprise. mostly surprise that he suspects you're navy and is still hitting on you in a packed bar. "i am, how about you get rid of the pretty and then we can talk more," his dark eyes staring right back at yours.

he shrugs, taking another drink from his glass, a smile still on his face. there's a bit about him that seems so intriguing to you, and quite attractive as well. his light tan, the clear muscles beneath his shirt, the cocky smile on his face.

"well, i only say things that are true, i can't go around lying now," the man gains a small smile out of you, you bring your drink up to attempt to hide it, "i have a reputation to keep up here."

you tilt your head, your eyes open wide. "right... such a gentleman. so, mr. hawaiian shirt, you navy too? or you just hoping you can get away with hitting on a navy officer in a building full of navy officers?" it's your turn to give a somewhat cocky smile, trying to add to the somewhat playful banter.

"i am, rooster, bradley, at your service," he does a small two-finger wave, giving you his callsign first.

"oh, you're one of the ones who took down that uranium plant a few months ago... my name is c/s, y/n. you're a hell of a pilot, shit at flirting though, i'll say that," your smile suddenly becomes rather wide, your arms crossing in front of your chest.

bradley brings a hand to his chest is fake surprise, his mouth turned into a frown. he leans back some and shakes his head. he closes his eyes as though he's attempting to fight tears, "oh i'm so wounded, i can't believe you would say such a thing. i am absolutely not shit at flirting, trust me."

"i'm the one you are flirting with, and i say you are," you roll your eyes at the well-known pilot, unable to rid yourself of your smile, "plus only one of us is trying to pick up someone at a bar."

"your smile says otherwise..."

"excuse me? my smile says otherwise? sure, rooster, keep thinking that," instantly, you're biting your lips, trying to hide the smile that wouldn't disappear.

bradley shrugs, crinkling his nose, his hand quickly reaching for a small napkin resting on the counter. "well, in case it's not just in my mind, here's my phone number. or perhaps i'll just have to run into you around the base," he slides it towards you, not losing eye contact.

a ring of butterflies cause a sense of nausea in your stomach, unable to know what to say to him. you grab it off of the counter and brush your hand against his. "just taking this to throw it away at home, don't wanna leave it here to be penny's problem. or any other girl's," you stuff the napkin into your back pocket.

"right, i wouldn't want it to be any other girls' problems either..." bradley's eyes stay trained on yours, meanwhile, his hand grabbing his beer for another drink.

before you can say anything else to the casanova captain, someone is walking up to the two of you, swinging his arm over bradley's shoulder. the man is around the same age, a toothpick between his lips, and a badge sits on his shirt with the name 'seresin' imprinted. he looks you up and down, a stupid smile on his lips.

"so this is why you decided to abandon our pool game, slick," the seresin guy holds out his hand for you to grab, looking confident as you've ever seen.

you grab it, being quick to pull your hand away and return it to the counter. he furrows his eyebrows, seemingly confused by your actions to close him off. you can only conclude that this doesn't normally happen to him and that you're a phenomenon in his life.

"well, i should probably get going, i have an early morning. it was nice to meet you bradley, maybe i'll see you around. i personally enjoy a good morning jog," you give him a quick wink, looking up at seresin a moment later, "see you around too, seresin."

it was this moment that really made bradley realize that you were definitely going to be using that number that he gave you.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradsaw x reader #x fem!reader

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windvexer · 5 months

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Cartomancy After 101: Developing your own sets of card meanings that you swap out depending on your needs [concepts & tips]

My hypothesis for this post is that most forms of cartomancy heavily rely on the context of the question or situation being read on.

As context shifts, so do the specific interpretations that readers pluck out of a pool of general meaning.

By leaning into the idea of context and building extremely contextual meaning sets, readers can elevate their skills and more reliably produce very specific readings within contexts they have studied and prepared for.

This is going to be a long one, so I'm making sections for readability.

1. Cartomancy Relies On Context

Most "little white books" that come with tarot and oracle decks, and cartomancy websites and published resources, divide card meanings into the general and contextual.

E.g., a tarot card's general meaning usually includes key words such as heartbreak, betrayal, and backstabbing. Then, contextual meanings might be provided:

Interpersonal relationships: Is a relationship about to end?

Business: Make sure any new business deals won't screw you over.

Spiritual: How can you use your spirituality to help with heartbreak?

While these contextual meanings stem from the base source of the card, they aren't interchangeable. Imagine if a querent asks you about their small business, and you reply, "well, have you tried using your spirituality to deal with interpersonal heartbreak?"

Therefore, a major role of the reader is defining the appropriate context of a question.

In order to practice their skills, many diviners offer to do "blind" readings for others. This means that the reader doesn't want any background information about the question at all - but even so, a reader may still ask for the context of a question.

E.g., a reader may say, "don't even tell me your actual question, but just tell me what kind of question it is - if it's about employment, a relationship, etc. Otherwise I won't know how to frame the answer."

[I don't mean to say that all readers always require context in this manner. Many readers do not, especially very practiced ones. But I don't think that means that context is irrelevant, even to very experienced readers who can obtain context on their own.]

2. Developing Meanings for a Specific Context Results in More Specific Readings

The Complete Lenormand Oracle Handbook by Caitlín Matthews begins by introducing the typical meanings of Lenormand cards. Later, she provides a custom set of meanings she personally developed related to her years spent in live theater.

Because of her time spent performing readings for theater workers, and about theater, she had developed a complex and unique system of meaning for Lenormand which, for the purposes of reading about live theater, was immensely more accurate and specific than the general Lenormand system.

While the general meanings of Lenormand informed her custom system, the custom system was not interchangeable with general meanings and was only applicable to a specific context and its related themes.

I discovered the same phenomenon by accident years ago, when I was frustrated with how general and nonspecific my readings had become.

I wanted to be able to use tarot to read accurately for everyday situations. So, over the course of several months, I worked with my primary divinatory ally to develop my own set of notes for the tarot, specifically for reading everyday, mundane situations.

The meanings given for the cards don't work very well at all for mystical, spiritual, or meditative self-exploratory readings. The meanings are things like, "you're the only one putting energy into this relationship," or, "don't go to the party if you didn't receive an invitation."

I use this set of meanings when I want very plain and straightforward readings on everyday situations, which it's very good at. I got what I wanted: accurate and specific readings on day-to-day questions with the tarot.

The meaning set fails at every other kind of question.

Recently, in my ongoing experiments with a custom oracle mashup of playing cards and tarot, I decided I wanted a meaning set that was useful for troubleshooting creative writing projects.

This deck has general meanings like, air/movement/exchange, water/observation/stagnant, and earth/categories/planning.

I developed contextual meanings like, "the dialogue in this scene is doing what it needs to do," "the character's motivations aren't clearly explained," and "the external goals of the character don't match what's already been explained about them."

By focusing on a specific context, readers can get very good at reading certain types of questions.

3. Exploring Specific Contexts Improves Overall Reading Ability in Any Context

By taking the general meanings of a card and developing them in new, unique ways that are still true to that card's roots, you create a huge learning opportunity to connect more deeply with that card.

Not only can you explore the unique evolutions of each card as it intersects with your interests and life, but your understanding of the deck as a whole can evolve.

When I was working with my original set of "everyday" meanings for the tarot, I discovered that many times I developed card meanings that really overlapped each other, making some cards redundant. When I decided to sort this out, my understanding of - and relationship to - tarot rapidly changed. I'm at a new level of understanding that I hadn't been able to achieve just by using general meanings for the 15 or so years of reading I had been doing before that.

The elements are currently a major part in my practice of witchcraft. As silly or abstract as it may seem, exploring how an oracle card that generally means water/observation/stagnant could apply to a specific type of fiction writing deepened my relationship not only with that experimental deck, but also to my craft as a whole.

As I've explored custom meaning sets in general, my ability to rapidly link abstract symbols has improved. Even if a specific meaning set doesn't apply, just having explored that makes my readings stronger.

For example, if I draw a card and I don't know how to apply it to a certain situation, having different sets of meaning floating around in my head is a little like having three or four helpful aunties shouting suggestions. None of them may be completely accurate, but it's a far better starting place than having no aunties at all.

By investing in very specific sets of meaning that only apply to certain contexts, readers can gain insight and skills that assist them in all types of readings throughout all contexts.

4. Sundry Suggestions for Those Convinced

Here are a handful of tips and tricks I've collected throughout the years. Take or leave them as you desire.

Choose very specific contexts. The more specific, the better!

Well, I'm sure this one is more down to personal preference, but don't be afraid to choose extremely specific contexts.

In my examples above about the creative fiction meaning set, the context wasn't "literary analysis" or "creative writing." The context was, "troubleshooting commercial fiction manuscripts and outlines to be more in line with modern commercial standards."

That isn't great at brainstorming, coming up with story ideas, dealing with literary fiction, grappling with major artistic themes, etc. It does one thing great: helping you workshop a commercial manuscript that you'd like to send to a publisher.

Put thought into what deck(s) you're using.

Even when using general meanings, many readers identify that certain decks are just better at certain kinds of readings. If you have multiple decks, try swapping them out as you experiment and see which ones work best.

Develop not only individual cards, but the deck as a whole.

Depending on your preferences, you may find value in not only developing individual cards, but also groupings of cards.

By taking entire sections of cards (say, all of the wands cards) and linking them to an important concept within your context (say, the behaviors of all the dogs you train), you can make large leaps of progress.

The same could be done for all the kings cards (your mentors in the dog training world), all the #3 cards (they're all going to relate to, say, small change or progress), and you can end up quickly mashing up new meaning sets:

Today's dog training business reading suggests that a Youtuber who's information you rely on is going to release a video about the importance of small behavioral changes.

Assigning broad meanings to different sections of cards is a good way to start exploring specific contexts.

Let card meanings evolve as you explore.

As you take notes, there's no need to settle one one meaning for the card as it is and then avoid changing it.

If your original idea for a card is "stubborn dogs who are not motivated by treats," and you perform multiple readings on it where the card only really makes sense if it means, "this dog will show up super tired and just want to nap," then it's fine to modify notes as you go.

I find that over time, modifications actually end up being multiple possible interpretations, once again deepening my understanding of the card as a whole (this card refers to difficulty inspiring action and engagement).

Often, card meanings come to me very vaguely and are practically stand-ins until I can figure something out for them.

Be mindful of spreads.

I can apply some meaning sets to literally any spread and it'll come out just fine.

Other meaning sets I have don't play great with tons of spreads, and may only work well with small spreads, using signifiers, and so forth.

There's no need to avoid highly contradictory meanings.

If you've got two ideas for a card (the dog is well-adjusted and friendly, or, he's very reactive and dangerous) and you aren't sure which fits, keep both meanings and use a combination of readings and real-world verification to experiment.

Your unique context sets don't need to be congruent with each other.

While I believe it's a good idea to seek fidelity to the original/general meanings of a card, this doesn't imply that the unique contexts you develop have to coincide with each other.

Maybe you have a meaning set specifically for energy work, and a separate one for religious spirit work.

In your energy working set, the wands cards could always relate to fire energy and only ever refer to a spirit if drawn in conjunction with a court card.

But, in your religious spirit work set, the 4/wands might always refer to the spirit of a home, regardless of elemental alignment.

The meanings you develop for one context don't need to adhere to the rules you create for other contexts.

Playing card decks can really simplify the process.

Tarot cards, with their intrusive little pictures, can often impose their own meanings on a context whether you like it or not. Even if horrendous betrayal makes zero sense for your context, sometimes it's impossible to get those ideas of the 3/Swords out of our heads.

If you're finding tarot to be too confining, try experimenting with playing card decks. They're smaller, draw less attention, and most importantly, do away with the art that can anchor our minds to the wrong concepts.

(Split the difference by working with a tarot deck that just uses suit symbols for the pips, but has full art for the major arcana.)

5. Hey! Thanks for reading.

I hope you're having a good day ^-^

#divination #tarot #cartomancy #witchcraft #witchblr #beyond 101 #psychism #readings

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faerytreealtars · 1 year

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⋆｡°✩ Messages from the place your soul calls home ⋆｡°✩

Welcome once again my dear ones to another PAC reading, I would first like to say before we move on any further a huge thank you for the kindness and love you have shared with me through my first pac reading! I appreciate it all so much ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

Now then shall we move along to the reading. This time the stars, galaxies, light beings, and old souls clamored at me to join in with the fun and send their messages of support and guidance to you. So take a breath and choose a pile. Always remember to trust your intuitive guidance and to only take what resonates for it is rarely wrong...

Pile one:

[ Cards: three of cups. Hierophant (rev). four of swords. six of cups & king of pentacles ]

~ we were not made to be ordinary, we are the creations of the very stars themselves so why my dear do you hide your glow? You were made to shine, to be seen, to be heard. You carry the wisdom of love and the power of magic flows through your very soul. Please don't dim your light. Even if you are scarred or your face stained with tears you are beautiful, always remember that, and the ones who reject you out of misguided fear were never meant for you. So my little star keep going along to the bear of your own drum and someday soon you'll find the right orchestra to play with. ~

Extra: Pleiades. Faeries. Heart chakra. Earth angel. summer/spring. flowers in wavy hair. empath. clairvoyant. 444. 11. 88. "Fighter - Christina Aguilera"

Pile two:

[Cards: nine of pentacles, page of swords, five of pentacles & the tower ]

~ You are tired, we know. Perhaps you are wondering is there even still a point in this journey you are making. We assure you that nothing you do is pointless, any action no matter how small is helping to lead you to a destined place but lately, your energy has been scattered. You worry and fuss over too much at once. Wondering if the action you are about to take will either serve you well or doom you for all of time. Stop. Slow down. Breath. Even if you go a little off the path, we are always here to help you. Ask us to relieve any burdens so you can focus on the important things and we will. No there is no quick fix it all we cannot promise such things but if you allow yourself to rest and actually think about what it is you are doing or feeling, why do you feel it/do it? do these actions truly align with your soul? Does it make you happy? Once you have had time to properly dive into your mind then the answers will come, slowly but surely ~

Extra: Blue planet. Orion. Uranus. Neptune. Libraries. "The tortoise and the hare". Death - Tarot card. Air signs. the colors white and blue. sylphs. Wonderland. Oceans. White Horse. 66

Pile 3

[ Cards: Six of swords. Judgment. The hermit. Justice. Ace of Pentacles ]

~ Our being of light we see how you have grown, It has taken time but didn't we tell you the more beautiful the flower the longer it takes the seed to sprout! The time is now, take charge of your dreams and embrace your true potential. Dare to have faith, to take that chance. We have cleared the path as best we could so that you may walk it with ease. This does not mean there will be no challenges, for one does not grow without them but anything that is a challenge you are more than capable of triumphing over. Remember your self-worth and love which you have worked hard to repair and all should be fine. Your mission is one of joy so embrace your own joy and your wishes will be easily attracted to you. Stay strong and never stop believing! ~

Extra: 333. Mathematics. Andromeda. Red cardinal. Building Blocks. Fire. Darkness/Cave. Leo/Lion. Solar plexus.

I hope that you managed to find comfort, inspiration, or a message that resonated with you out of the three piles, if not don't worry I'm sure you will receive a message in some other way. Much love - Fae

Tarot deck used: Nicoletta Ceccoli Tarot

Moon Position: Last Quarter (42%)

Day of the week: Wednesday - Odin - A favorable day for intellectual pursuits and activities whether that be through socializing, analyzing, journaling, or making future plans. A good day to work with runes. Lucky colors: Green and Blue

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spenglernot · 6 months

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STORIES TELLING: ED TEACH’S JOURNEY FROM ARMOR TO AUTHENTICITY

One of the joys of watching season 2 of Our Flag Means Death is discovering the visual parallels with season 1 that add so much meaning and richness to the story. With affecting, extraordinary economy of visual storytelling, we can see the progression of Ed’s journey from choosing armor in season 1, episode 10 – Wherever You Go, There You Are, to choosing authenticity in season 2, episode 7 – Man on Fire.

[I have to point out the gorgeous cinematography here. Panning down on the left, panning up on the right. The clear resolve of S2 E7 Ed turning to ascend to the deck. I also love the timing of both shots. S2 E7 Ed is turning toward the red silk that S1 E10 Ed will release.]

S1 E10 Ed considers the red silk. The symbol of his tenderness, softness, and vulnerability.

S2 E7 Ed hoists his leathers and his firearm - his literal and symbolic armor and protection - to the edge of the deck.

S1 E10 Ed releases his tenderness, softness, and vulnerability to the sea.

S2 E7 Ed releases his armor and protection to the sea.

S1 E10 Ed throws the person who understands what he’s going through and is in a position to help him work through it in a healthy way, into the sea.

S2 E7 Ed makes breakfast-in-bed for the person with whom he shares emotional and physical intimacy. An act of care and service that strengthens his bond with Stede.

Show, don't tell doesn't seem adequate to describe these two sequences. They are masterful and say so, so much.

The double-edged sword of self-awareness

You’ve really got to give it to Ed. He’s making huge progress. Making a better choice for himself. Moving forward.

Change can be terrifying. For Ed to release that which protected him for decades is, well… it’s courageous and demonstrates hard-won self-awareness and integrity.

Of course, choosing to be authentic to yourself doesn’t translate into automatic relationship building. Understanding and communicating with other people, particularly the person you are in love with, is a related but different skill set. It is also true that, once you know that you can’t perform a persona to please other people, no matter how much you love them, you risk losing them.

Ed in the second frame, above, kills me. He knows that piracy might be the wedge that drives Stede and him apart. He is trying to share how he feels. But Stede is so enamored with finally being a successful pirate (and glowing from the best (and only) love-sex of his life) that he can't hear Ed.

I love that OFMD takes no shortcuts in matters of the heart. If these lads are going to be together for reals, they are going to have to work for it, and there is still much work to be done.

I'm looking forward to likely being simultaneously emotionally fulfilled and mentally devastated by the season 2 finale in about 30 hours.

This meta was written before OFMD season 2 has fully aired. No idea what’s going to happen in the finale (and I’ve generally fled social media to avoid spoilers). I’ll be back, looking at everyone’s fascinating posts after episode 8 airs.

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writingoddess1125 · 3 days

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Sunset Pirates pt. 2

Old Men Series Masterlist <<<

Previous <<<

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• The Sunset Pirates- A Young band of new generation Pirates that has been bulldozing their way into papers as their bounties grew with each passing month. Racking up Billions in damage as they sailed on and becoming on the World Goverment biggest problem

• Each of these young pirates where carving their own paths right into the already scared side if the Goverment

• They each had their own goals in mind. Wishing to better the past generation. Build past the shadows each of them where born in-

• However it was clear one one thing-

• They still had no real idea what the fuck they were doing...

• While the four of them where incredibly skilled in terms of combat and ship maintenance- they were all now incredibly broke.

• "How the fuck are we gonna get money?! We will be out of food in days" Vi protested as the crew sat on the deck trying to have a meeting of sorts to figure out a game plan.

• They had been sailing aimlessly for the last few days and getting close to running out of needed supplies. All of them feeling a strain on their personal pockets-

• "I know I know- We need ideas. Sure destroying shit is fun but we need to make real money here" Dee expressed rubbing his temple, Alucare looking at the crew and rolled his eyes- However he couldn't disagree with them...

• "We need to obviously steal- its how all pirates make their money most of thw time" Alucare pointed out-

• The crew grimaced at this Alucare included, knowing well that they weren't the type of pirates to raid defenseless people and rip gold from their necks or steal Berri from helpless people.

• "Listen it's one think stealing from a rich person but-" Vi started but Dee waved her off before she could finish that sentence.

• "We know, I don't think any of us want that either" Dee expressed. Sighing as everyone fell silent- That was till Bee chuckled to himself suddently and everyone turned their attention to him.

• Bee being the ever extremist yet the only one that seemed to pitch ideas sat up from his lounged position on a barrel with a wide smile like the devil at the crew.

• "So sounds like- We steal from the World Goverment-"

• Everyone Stared at Bee before the Vi and Alucare erupted in disagreement.

"And please do tell, How and where? You cant just say Steal from the World Goverment" Vi argued and Bee smiled "Easy- I heard when we are that ship that you Alu was imprisoned on-"

"Don't call me that-"

"I heard that they where planning to renovate Marine Base 45 with a new Safe after the summer ends since its faulty- We can just break in and steal it. It's broken anyways"

• Bee pitched as the other two crewmates ripped apart the plan. Dee however quietly thinking and giving a defeated sigh "It's the best idea we have-" He finally said making Vi look at his shocked "Are you fucking serious-"

• "This is a bad idea-" Alucare pointed out

• "Do you have one?" Bee shot back, Making the swordsman scowl at him and Vi huff but fall silent-"

• "Since you two are hell bent on this, then you two have someone to help break into the safe- Neither of us know how to" Alucare pointed out. Making the twins look at each other for a moment.

• Dee clicked his tongue and leaned back- Bee smirking as well.

• "Know just the Duo-"

- This is not what Alucare ment by getting a skilled Theif or in this case thieves. Bee and Dee had just returned from grabbing these skilled 'highly skilled pick pockets' but instead Alucare stared at two cherry nosed brats, his eyebrow starting to twitch.

There was two little girls- clearly not even in the double digits in terms of age, both in little pink-tails and dressed in frilly dresses with pale blue eyes like the older twin duo. It didnt take a wild guess to figure out these where their baby sisters.

Vivian was gushing at the two little girls the second their boarded the ship, Leaning down and poking their little cheeks as she swooned at how adorable they were and gifting them candy. A clear softy for kids-

"You've got to be shitting me- You couldn't find anyone who had hit puberty yet?" Alucare growled at the older twins, Dee rolling his eyes.

"You said we needed thieves and this is what I got- Now do you got any better idea?" Alucare scoffed, gesturing to Vi who was still gushing over the girls who where eating up the attention from the redhead.

"You expect us to break into a secure Marine safe with two toddlers-"

"We are right here you know-" Ari grumbled, glaring up at Alucare who sighed heavily at this.

"I'm aware-" Alucare calmly shot back, Looking to Bee and Dee as he rubbed his temple.

"If I knew I'd be babysitting I'd just have went home-" Alucare mumbled- Ali glaring hard at Alucare as she casted her sister a glance.

"We have to get someone else- I understand love for a siblings skills but this is ridiculous. Im not going to let two infants on a dangerous task like this. Your sisters or not- I doubt they could steal candy from each other" Dee and Bee looked at each other and just shrugged. Alucare ready to tear into them again but being quickly cut off.

"Pretty ring- And lots of money!" Ali said loudly to herself, Holding up Alucare prized Ruby ring in her tiny palm the one that Mihawk had gifted him when he left home and his bag of Berri he kept hidden on his person- The dark haired man blinking in confusion before looking at his hand.

"How did you-" He started before snatching the ring and money from the little girl. Ali giggling at this as Did Ari who was scooped up by Vivian.

"Told you- Best damn thieves you can find" Dee waved off, Already suspiciously touching his own pockets as he was sure his sisters had lifted something from him.

"The infamous Bubbles and Squeak- Now if these two can steal from Sir Crocodile, Mihawk and essentially all of the Pirate Lords undetected including cracking ever safe they can get their little fingers on. I'm sure they can steal from the military-" Bee detailed Excluding themselves from the stolen list. Alucare crossing his arms, looking.. impressed?

"These two did all that?-"

Vi commented with a eyebrow at the little girls as she held Ari who was tucked to her side. Looking to the little girl and chuckling a bit in amusement-

"How long do we have them for?"

"72 Hours, Father has our Mother distracted and lied to her about where the girls are for this" Dee explained with a sigh- Knowing their mother would lose her shit finding out they were taking two 7 year olds out on a pirating adventure.

Alucare adjusted the ring on his finger and nodded- Looking to the two little girls calmly.

"Seems we are setting sail to Marine Base 45-"

○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Authors Note!

HELLO! So I've been stewing over this project for quite some time and wanted to open the floor up to everyone!

I want to Build the Sunset Pirates into their own Respectable Pirate crew, so Please leave some suggestions on Ideas either of OOC or even Legacy children you think would he great for the crew!

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #sunset pirates #one peice #buggy one piece #one piece mihawk #one piece shanks #opla

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anonymityisfunwriter · 1 month

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Timeless - Part 5: "We Really Were Timeless"

"I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray. We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made, and you'll say, 'Oh my, we really were timeless'..."

Summary: It's the kind of love you find once in a lifetime, the kind of love you don't put down, and somehow, you know you would've found each other in every life.

'Timeless' Chapter List | The Grumpy Sunshine Series

You smile down at the cardboard box that sits in your lap. You hold up a yellowing photograph, "Oh, I remember this! This was one of our very first assignments with the three of us. It was a complete disaster."

"Why? What happened?"

"Oh, what didn't happen!" you giggle. "We were after some bad guy - an arms dealer, I think. They almost got away. We had an entire building evacuated because we accidentally started a fire, which they still blame me for. We bickered the whole time." You look down at the photograph, at you, Bucky, and Sam, at the whole box filled with photos of the life you made. "And it was the most fun I ever had."

"I can't believe it," Sam awes from the other side of your porch.

"It feels like yesterday," you agree.

"No, I still can't believe that after all this time, you still won't admit that you started that fire."

"I didn't!" you insist. "We've been through this time and time again, Sam. I didn't start that fire."

"What about-"

The question is cut off by the slam of the screen door and a begrudging sigh, "You're supposed to be helping them with their project, not doing it for them, Mom."

You dismissively wave off your oldest child, Thomas, "I'm just telling stories."

Your oldest grandchild holds up a picture from decades ago. One of you and Nick Fury. Side by side, you wear a beaming grin that looks even more bright compared to his stoic frown and crossed arms. It was taken on the day you celebrated his birthday against his will. "Who's that?"

"He is the man that saved my life. We named your Uncle Nick after him."

"So how did you and grandpa meet?"

"Your Uncle Sam introduced us."

"That's right, you're all here because of me!" Sam boasts from the porch swing across the deck.

You chuckle and roll your eyes, "We all worked together. We would've met either way."

"That doesn't mean he would've talked to you if it weren't for me."

"Don't listen to him, kids. He's full of sh- He's full of it. I said it!" Bucky announces, refusing to put another dollar in the family swear jar.

"Nice save." You pat Bucky's leg with a soft chuckle. "It's true, though. He didn't like me very much when we first met."

He settles beside you with a gruff muttering, "That's not true."

"What?" Your oldest grandchild pouts, "Why didn't Grandpa like you?"

"I don't know." You shrug, turning to Bucky with a teasing grin. "James? Why didn't you like me when we first met?"

"Trick question, I always liked you."

"What'd you like about him?"

"It was those eyes," you reply. "The same beautiful blue eyes you have."

"What about these? Is that you?"

You smile, remembering that antique shop from a lifetime ago, "It was us in another life."

"Can I see that?" Bucky asks, jutting his chin toward the box in your lap. You slide the box over to him.

The years came and went. You knew that. But as you look around your porch, at the proof of a love that would last much, much longer than a lifetime, you're left wonderstruck.

The family you found. The family you built. The life you that never ceased to amaze you.

You look at Sam, the smile lines now permanently etched into his face. You look at Bucky, his dark hair now grayed with time. But those blue eyes, the same eyes you fell in love with on that very first day, those were still the same.

Time broke down your bodies, but it never touched your soul. It was an age old classic. It was your age old classic. The story started long ago, at that very first hello.

"Oh my..." It's not very often Bucky gets struck by overwhelming waves of emotion. He flips through the box to find much more than a lifetime's worth of memories. "We really were timeless."

The clanging of the grandfather clock startles you, tearing your eyes away from the photo. "Sorry, I think I got lost in thought there."

The shopkeeper chuckles at you, waving her hand at you, "It's no problem, dear."

You chuckle, "That's the second time that grandfather clock scares me."

The shopkeeper quirks her head at you, "What grandfather clock?"

"The -" You point in the direction of the clanging. Your brows furrow when you turn to see nothing but more stacks of books there. "Uh, never mind....Thank you for showing me around. You have a lovely store. I should be getting back now."

"It was my pleasure, I'm sure you and Bucky will have lifetimes worth of happiness."

"Thank you." You offer a smile in return. It takes you a moment to realize that you never told her Bucky's name. "Wait, how did you-"

But as you turn back around, she's gone. The store is as empty and silent as it was when you first walked in.

Though there's a strangeness you can't ignore, there's a something else more important that you need to do. You walk out of the storefront, and immediately dial the only person on your mind. You know he probably won't answer, not with how chaotic his mission turned out, but still, you just need to hear his voice.

"Doll? Is everything okay?"

You sigh in relief, a lightness filling your chest and lungs. Tears unexpectedly spring to your eyes, overwhelmed by the stories of love and triumph. It felt so real. It felt like it was you and him. A love as timeless as they come. You shake your head, clearing the knot building in your throat, "Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to hear your voice."

He groans dramatically. You swear you can almost see the grimace he wears. "God, I miss you."

"I miss you, too," you softly exhale, wiping away the stray tear that slips down your cheek. "So, so much."

"I have something to tell you, by the way."

You finally perk up. "Yeah?"

"Turn around."

You softly gasp, whirling around to see him. His smile is brilliant. The faint orange of the setting sun only makes his eyes shine even brighter. He's here. Standing before you. You bound into him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"I missed you so much," you mutter into his shoulder.

"Me too."

You're not sure how long you stand there holding onto each other in the middle of the cobblestone streets, but you do know you're going to be fine. You were going to be more than fine.

As long as you were his and he was yours, it would all be fine.

You were going to be timeless.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064

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digi-lov · 10 months

Text

Digimon 🤝 Pokémon

KoKabuterimon ST9-07 by GOSSAN from ST-9 Starter Deck Ultimate Ancient Dragon

Heracross PAL 006 by GOSSAN from Scarlet&VioletーPaldea Evolved

So. I don't like the idea that you can't be a fan of both Digimon and Pokémon. A while ago, I got an ask from a Pokémon fan asking how Digimon is any better than Pokémon, and I didn't really know how to answer that? I love both? I also like Yo-Kai Watch, by the way. You don't have to drag something down to elevate something else.

It does bother me that I sometimes get the feeling from certain kinds of Pokémon fans that they hate on Digimon, like it's their duty? I even had an argument with someone in real life who was convinced Digimon was a Pokémon rip-off, despite knowing nothing about Digimon in the first place.

But obviously, not all fans are like that, I'm a big Pokémon fan myself! I've played essentially all main line games and many side games. The Pokémon Special Manga was the first manga I read and is among my all-time favorites. I'm also active in my local Pokémon TCG community! I'm actually an official Pokémon TCG Judge, and I volunteer alongside my partner at our local card shops weekly "Pokémon School," where we teach children how to play the game. Although that sometimes also entails how to read cards, how to act respectful to your opponent, how to focus, what to look out for when building decks, how to tell if a card is fake, and much more...

That's another reason why I'm sad the Digimon Card Game only has an English language release in the West. Otherwise, I'd have introduced it to the kids already!

But yeah, I'm rambling a bit, my point being I don't want any hate, just love here. You don't have to like Pokémon. But it's definitely possible to like both.

So I wanna take a moment to show a couple of artists you know from the Digimon Card game who also like Pokémon!

Sanosuke Sakuma

Sanosuke Sakuma has been doing illustrations for the Digimon Card Game since the first set! Their strong point are cute characters, with most of their cards being of Baby Level Digimon (Lv.2) or Child Level Digimon (Lv.3). You can check out posts I did of their cards under #Sanosuke Sakuma

They also have been working as an illustrator for the Pokémon TCG since 2013 and have been working as character designer and illustrator for the main line Pokémon games since Pokémon Sun and Moon (2016).

GOSSAN

GOSSAN had been doing illustrations for the Digimon Card Game since BT-04 (2020) and have done over a hundred cards by this point. They're among the most likely artists to do game references and are very good at depicting action! Check out more of them under #GOSSAN

They also have been working as an illustrator for the Pokémon TCG since 2021 and already have a couple of Alternative Arts under their belt. Notably, they even got to illustrate the Alternative Art of Mewtwo Vstar, featuring it fighting Charizard, both of which are among the most popular Pokémon.

tessy

Tessy has been an illustrator for the Digimon Card Game since late 2020 and has been featured in almost every set since. Check out my posts featuring their cards under #tessy

While there is no Pokémon card featuring rheir art just yet, they entered and reached the semi-finals of the Pokémon TCG Illustration Contest 2022 with both their entries for Charizard and Bulbasaur.

Spareribs

Spareribs won second prize overall (and first for Devimon) of the Digimon Illustration Competition 2022 with their entry 「Fallen」. Ever since they've been working as an illustrator for the Digimon Card Game. You can see posts with their cards under #spareribs

They also entered the Pokémon TCG Illustration Contest 2022 and made it to the semi-finals with their entry for Greninja.

I hope we can all continue to share our passion for colorful critters. Thank you very much.

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its-the-pilot · 7 months

Text

Waves | 6 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

This chapter is a little longer than I was expecting, I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: You and Bradley make a decision. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 3.4k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

youtube

Chapter Six

The weeks that followed the kiss on your front porch proved to be hectic for both you and Bradley. Your schedules had become jam-packed with early mornings and late nights, leaving few opportunities for you to spend time together.

Fortunately, the whispers and stares that followed your outburst had died down and you felt comfortable spending a night out at the Hard Deck again, so you had made plans to meet there after work. That’s where you found yourself nursing a glass of wine and checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a text from him.

Penny wiped down the bar as she prepared for the Friday night rush, casting a knowing glance your way. Her eyes took in the fitted navy blue dress you had worn to work that day and offered an appreciative nod. “You look cute tonight, honey,” she smiled. “How late is he?”

Looking up from your phone, you took another drink of your wine before answering. “Almost an hour. I texted him and he hasn't said anything yet, but I doubt he's still in the air, the others are here already.” You sighed, motioning toward the pool table not far from you, where the other aviators were hanging out. “I thought things were going so well, and I just… what if he changed his mind?”

Penny nodded in understanding and reached across the bar to take your hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re overreacting, hon. Men in uniform, especially aviators, have unpredictable schedules, you know that. There’s probably a perfectly good reason for why he’s late. Give him a chance to explain.”

You squeezed her hand back in silent thanks and smiled when you heard a familiar voice behind you. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but you’re looking for Bradshaw?”

Turning your head, you found Jake standing there holding a pool cue. “Yeah… do you know where he is?”

“Probably still back at the hangar,” he offered, moving to sit on the stool next to yours. He had been half listening to your conversation with Penny since you sat down, curious to know more about the woman that had Rooster smiling lately. He'd tried getting it out of the man himself, but was unsuccessful. “Got stuck doing push ups after his flight.”

It was common knowledge among those who worked with the pilots in training that any screw-ups in the air led to some sort of correction on the ground. In recent years, that correction had taken the form of push ups numbering in the hundreds depending on the infraction.

“What happened?” You asked, shifting to fully face the blonde as Penny attended to other customers. Jake had come by your office for sessions a few times since your first encounter, and you were starting to build a rapport, seeing the real man behind the Hangman mask.

He passed the pool cue he was holding to another aviator, his shrug conveying a sense of indifference. “He was just being Rooster.”

With an eye roll, you finished your wine and set the glass aside. Callsigns and how they were determined had always seemed silly to you and for the most part, you chose to ignore them. “I don't know what that means, and something tells me I don't want to.”

“He doesn't take any risks. Always waiting for the perfect moment,” he elaborated, resting his elbow on the counter. He was wearing his civilian clothes tonight, a pair of well fitted jeans with cowboy boots and a t-shirt that said Fly Navy on it, his sunglasses hanging from the collar.

“So he’s cautious. Sounds like a good thing to me, especially if he’s looking out for his wingman.” You ordered another glass of wine for yourself and a beer for Jake when Penny passed by.

Jake thanked you for the beer, but shook his head at your statement. “He has to be able to take the shot, even if the conditions are less than ideal, and he doesn’t. At least he didn’t today.” He considered you for a moment, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “You ever fly one?”

“Only in training, but I go up a few times a month with different pilots for research.” Although you had earned your wings during your training, it was your least favorite part of the job, though undeniably necessary.

His grin widened and he leaned in, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music as the jukebox kicked on “Maybe I can take you up sometime, show you how it’s done.”

That was what Bradley saw when he walked into the bar, still wearing his flight suit, the top half tied around his waist exposing the black t-shirt he wore underneath. He hadn’t changed, wanting to get to the bar as soon as possible since he was over an hour late.

It didn’t take him much time at all to cross the bar, his eyes narrowing as he approached you and Jake, his emotions clearly running high. He couldn’t hide the pang of jealousy he felt when he saw you laughing at something the blonde had said. He called your name just before he reached you, wrapping his arm around you possessively and pressing his lips to yours when you looked up, your eyes wide with surprise.

He felt your body tense under his fingers, the initial flicker of panic running through you before you realized it was him and he smoothed his hand over your back, a silent apology for startling you.

Jake leaned back against his bar stool, taking a swig from his beer, a devilish smirk playing on his lips as he watched the scene in front of him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the man of the hour. How’d those push-ups treat you, Rooster?”

When Bradley finally broke the kiss he looked over to the other aviator, his arm still wrapped around you. “No problem, Hangman. It was arm day anyway,” he quipped, motioning between you and Jake. “What’s goin’ on with you two? Having a good night?”

“Just offering Doc a flight, to show her how it’s supposed to go,” Jake replied, seeing the flush creeping up on Bradley’s cheeks as he continued to tease him.

You found yourself caught in the middle, feeling like a toy they were fighting over. “Children…” Shaking your head, you turned to Jake with a polite smile. “I was just telling him it was unnecessary. I already have my flights for the month scheduled. Thank you for the offer though, Lieutenant. I’ll see you around.”

Hangman looked as if he had more to say, but he thought better of it, choosing to back down as you dismissed him. He stood and gave you a two-fingered salute before heading back to the pool tables, leaving you alone with Bradley.

Once you were in private, you turned and smacked him in the chest, earning a grunt of surprise from him. “What the hell was that?” You hissed, your cheeks flush with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. His unexpected entrance was clearly fueled by jealousy over your conversation with Jake, and while you didn’t mind the kiss, you didn’t appreciate being treated like his possession.

Bradley moved to take a seat on the stool that had just been vacated, a look of confusion on his face. “Hangman is only out for himself, Dimples. You gotta be careful around him.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You have got to be kidding me, Bradley. We were just talking. He came over to tell me where you were, since you couldn’t be bothered to do so yourself.” Feeling Jake’s eyes on the two of you from his spot near the pool tables, you decided to defuse the situation by taking Bradley’s hand and leading him out to the deck, away from the growing crowd inside.

“I didn’t have my phone on me, and when I was done I came right over. I didn’t think a text was gonna matter that much.” He tried defending himself, but the look on your face told him he was failing. “I’m sorry.”

With your arms crossed over your chest, you leaned against the railing of the deck and studied Bradley intently. “You used to do this in high school. There’s a difference between being in a relationship and being treated like a possession, Bradley. Besides, we agreed to take things slow.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face, his gaze shifting to the multicolored sky as the sun set. You were right, he had struggled with jealous tendencies growing up, and you had worked hard to help him overcome them. But seeing you again reignited those feelings, particularly when it came to Jake. “The guy just gets under my skin.”

“Well, maybe you should hash shit out with him then,” you suggested, your tone gentle but firm. Conflict resolution and letting go of grudges had never been Bradley’s strong suit, evidenced by his difficulty talking about Maverick even after nearly fifteen years since their last argument. “But stop putting me in the middle. I’m allowed to have friends, and you don’t get to approve or reject them.”

Nodding, he stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his mustache brushing your skin. “Forgive me?”

You looked up at him for a long moment, finally nodding. “This time, Lieutenant,” you warned, giving a teasing smirk as you looked him over, appreciating the flight suit and tight black shirt he was wearing. You typically didn’t like uniforms, but seeing Bradley in one gave you a new appreciation. “If we go back inside, can you behave?”

“Only if you can,” he smirked, a playful glint in his eyes as he noticed the way you were looking at him. Reaching for you, he pressed his body against yours, trapping you against the railing of the bar’s deck as he got the scent of sweat and jet fuel all over your clothes.

“Stop!” you squealed, laughing as you managed to get him to step back by tickling his side. Once he did, you gave him a light pat on the chest. “Let’s go get you a beer.”

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

The rest of the night went well, the earlier tension fading as you sat with Bradley, chatting about your week while sipping your drinks. At one point, Jake caught your eye from his place near the pool tables and raised his glass in a mock toast. You smiled in return, silently appreciating the way he didn’t let the earlier dramatics bother him.

Bradley, for his part, kept a watchful eye on your interactions but managed to refrain from any further displays of jealousy.

When the crowd inside the bar started to thin out, he stood and offered you his hand, the familiar opening chords of REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” playing on the jukebox. “Dance with me?”

Your face lit up with a warm smile as you recognized the song. “Of course, it’s our song,” you replied, taking his hand. He kept a respectable distance between you, one hand gently on your waist while the other held yours as you swayed to the music.

As you moved together, you couldn’t help the way it stirred up memories of your past together. “I remember the night we decided on this one.”

Bradley’s eyes were locked on yours, filled with tenderness and nostalgia. “Yeah, me too. Pulling out my mom and dad’s old records and losing ourselves in the music, sleeping on the floor in front of the fireplace… some of my favorite memories are from that night.”

Moving closer, you rested your cheek against his shoulder, your eyes closed as you allowed the memories you had pushed to the back of your mind to resurface. You recalled the cozy nest you created with blankets and cushions, a place where you held each other and listened to music until sleep claimed you. It was the two of you against the world, especially when your uncle was away and you had the house to yourselves, and back then you thought those moments would last forever.

As the song ended, you lifted your head from his shoulder. “I missed this,” you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

Bradley tightened his arms around you and placed a tender kiss on the top of your head. “I did too. Honestly, this? Us coming together here, after all this time? Feels like fate. A second chance.”

You pulled back reluctantly, though your hand remained in his as you bit your lip and looked up to him. “Will you take me home? We can talk more there.”

He nodded, fishing his keys out of his pocket and handing them to you. “Go ahead and start the truck, I’ll take care of the tab.”

Taking the keys, you walked out to the Bronco and started the engine before sliding over to the passenger side, waiting for Bradley to return. The engine’s purr seemed to echo the mix of emotions that swirled within you -- trepidation, a touch of excitement, and a sense of anticipation that had been dormant for far too long.

Once Bradley climbed behind the wheel, he put the truck into gear and you exchanged a soft smile, confirming that you were ready to leave.

The drive to your house was quick, not giving either of you much time to think about the feelings that simmered in the air between you. When you moved inside, you settled on the couch beside Bradley, the room enveloped in a warm, comforting glow cast by a lamp.

After a moment of quiet, you took a deep breath and looked into his hazel eyes. “What are you hoping for between us, B? Do you want me to fall back in love with you?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “'Cause I don’t know how to do that when I never stopped.”

“I never stopped loving you either.” He admitted, his expression a mix of sincerity and vulnerability.

The admission hung in the air between you, a testament to the complex emotions that you both dealt with throughout your time apart. Your fingers idly picked at a piece of lint on your dress, a nervous habit, before you mustered the courage to speak. Your voice wavered, but you pressed on.

“Then why didn’t you come back?” You asked, your eyes locked onto his, seeking answers.

“Because I… I know this doesn’t make sense,” he tried, his hand gently covering yours in an attempt to offer comfort.

“It doesn’t.” Your response was straightforward, heavy with unspoken hurt that you had carried for years.

Bradley leaned in, never taking his eyes off of yours. “Alright, please, hear me out,” he pled, his voice soft and sincere. “I wanted to do something good. I wanted to spare you pain.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You didn’t save me from anything. I lived with that pain every day, Bradley, and I blamed you. I blame you for thinking you knew what was best for me when it was you all along.”

His shoulders slumped under the weight of your words. Releasing your hand, he ran it through his caramel curls, leaving them tousled. “I know,” he admitted, his voice remorseful. His eyes mirrored the way you were feeling, revealing the struggle he had with his past decisions. “I didn’t want you to wait for me. There was so much you wanted to do.”

“I wanted to do all of it with you!” Your voice cracked, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “And I would have gladly waited for as long as it took.”

He swallowed hard, his throat working as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t deserve you,” he replied, the weight of regret plain on his face.

“Deserve me? Jesus, Bradley, don’t you understand?” You asked, frustration lacing your tone as more tears fell down your cheeks. “When I was alone at night I wanted you! And I cried for you, and I even hated you at times. I hated you because… because I would have chosen you no matter what. And you took that choice away from me.”

“I made a mistake,” he declared, lifting his hand to gently cup your cheek as he brushed the tears away with his thumb. He hated seeing you cry, it broke his heart in ways he didn’t think were possible.

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Yes, you did.”

“I did,” he confirmed, searching your eyes as he continued. “I hurt you, and I would do anything to take that back. But look me in the eye and tell me you don’t care about me the same way I care about you, and I’ll walk away.”

Shaking your head, your hand lifted to cover his that rested on your cheek. “I can’t.” You felt his hand move, his fingers lacing through yours before resting on your lap. “I do care about you. Which is why we can’t…” you pulled your hand away from his gently.

Every insecurity you had was rearing its ugly head at the same time and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “You’re gonna graduate from TOP GUN and go back to your squadron, on the other side of the country. Who knows when or if you’ll be back. We can’t start something.”

Bradley could sense the anxiety rising in you and frowned, whispering your name. “I’m just as scared as you are, okay? I haven’t felt this for anyone in my life but you. I didn’t think I ever would again, but then you walked up to me at the bar… from the moment I saw you, I knew.”

He was saying all the right words, dismantling your defenses one by one, and you hated that after all these years he still had that power over you. There was something about him, an unwavering confidence you’d never possessed growing up, and that certainty about everything had helped ground you more times than you could count.

Just being in the same room as him made you feel safe, and it was that feeling that left a Bradley Bradshaw-shaped hole in your life for fourteen years. You had learned to live without him, and now that he was here, practically throwing himself at your feet for forgiveness, you needed to decide if you wanted him back.

“I can’t stop how I feel,” he blurted out after waiting for your response, which had yet to come. “I know… what I’m asking is a lot. I can’t change the past, what I did, how I hurt you… but I want to be a part of your future.”

You finally reached for his hand again as you took a deep breath, your heart heavy with the weight of your decision. “I can’t change the past either, and I won’t pretend I’m not still hurt by what happened. But you’re here, asking for a second chance… that means something.”

Bradley’s face brightened with hope, but you continued with a note of caution. “If you want us to have a future, you have to know it won’t be easy. I’m not the same girl you left, and I’ve had my trust broken a lot, so it’s gonna take time to earn mine.” You paused, your grip on his hand tightening. “If you’re willing to work through this together, to prove that your words aren’t just empty promises, then I’m willing to give us another chance.”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes, Dimples,” he promised, the relief in his eyes unmistakable. This was what he had been waiting for since he saw you that first night at the Hard Deck. “I’ll spend every day proving to you that I’ve changed, that I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

Your eyes never left his, searching for any signs of deception. When you found none, you closed the gap and kissed him deeply. Bradley responded with equal fervor, pulling you closer until you were comfortably settled on his lap, the skirt of your well-fitted dress bunched around your thighs.

When you finally parted for a breath, you spoke softly. “Stay. Please.”

“I just got you back,” he smiled, stroking your thighs tenderly. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

Chapter Seven

#bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fic #miles teller #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader

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