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t-lostinworlds · 20 days

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Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose.

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

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the wedding // LTPF

summary: the wedding of the year, i can see it now.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. she's a bridezilla for REAL and i wish i included more of that energy, protective!coryo, idk people are drinking alcohol? (its a wedding, so duh), also TW for Livia and r's dad just existing p much.

based on this ask and this ask!

series masterlist // playlist

Everything was perfect. Absolutely everything you had dreamt of your whole life when it came to your wedding. Coryo had told you money was no object, and therefore, you spared no expense. You had a strong theory that your father was being sent every last bill, since you knew neither of you had anything more than what the Plinth's were providing for school, but that was the farthest thing from your problem. It was the least your father could do.

The hardest part of the whole thing, even before deciding who would give you away without your father, was deciding on your maid of honour. You didn't have many good friends, or friends at all, outside of your new husband. At one point, you wondered if had things gone differently, would you have chosen Lucy Gray?

Clemensia Dovecote was a fine enough choice. "Let me just say," Her speech began, hitting the side of her overfilled wine glass with a fork. "I have called this wedding for years, and no one believed me." She shot a smile over to you at the head table. "For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Clemensia. Y/N's Maid of Honour." She had just thrived on the title since you offered it to her which, while annoying, was good because she took her position very seriously. She was the perfect choice- she looked nice, presentable in a dress you had picked out, but the colour clashed with the yellow in the whites of her eyes and the few scales that were yet to fall off after the snake bite. She looked fine, but she also made you look better. "But like I said, I knew this would happen."

She was drunk, repeating things in a way that made you cringe internally but nevertheless, you had to watch. The lights spread across the large backyard of the Plinth's mansion lit up the night beautifully, bouncing off every white and red rose you had spread about. You were very grateful to them for allowing you to host the reception there. They had done a lot for you in the last year since you returned from Twelve.

Mrs. Plinth was very involved with planning the wedding- she loved the winter wedding and leaning into it as a theme. It worked out nicely because it gave her something to think about other than the death of her only child, and she was a tremendous help and support to you. You were truly grateful, but this day was hard on them without Sejanus there. She had mentioned on more than one occasion that Sejanus would have been the best man, and you only slightly doubted that. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else- but Coryo would have had different thoughts, you're sure.

"How much longer will this go on for?" Your now husband whispers in your ear, fake smile on his face as he also has to listen to Clem's rambling.

"I really don't know." You reply with the same fake smile, knowing that eyes were on you just as much as her.

"Some choice for a maid of honour." He chuckles.

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. "Oh, well, I would have gone with Arachne Crane but, you know..."

"Fair enough." He mumbles, sitting back in his seat. "Are you really the only woman in the Capitol who isn't insufferably annoying? You should have been your own maid of honour."

"Well it was her or Tigris, and Tigris is prettier than me so she wasn't really an option." You hum, grabbing his hand under the table as you keep your eyes focussed on Clemensia, not paying attention to a word she says.

Coryo laughs. "Tigris is not prettier than you."

"She's your cousin, your opinion is invalid." You shrug it off.

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right." He argues, squeezing your hand.

You don't reply, and you let his hand go to clap once Clem is finally finished. You had already eaten, so now it was supposed to be the "fun part", as Clemensia so aptly put it in her speech. You found it rude, yes, but it wasn't a big deal and after tonight you wouldn't have to see her again for a while.

It was brisk out, being a winter wedding you should have expected that, but you still had another dress to change into so you excuse yourself from the table, kissing your husband goodbye as he gets up as well.

You hadn't allowed him to see any of your dresses, and this would be your third one today alone. He loved every one, and did not expect to be disappointed by the next. Or the one after that.

"Hey, congrats, Coriolanus." He tears his gaze away from your retreating figure to whoever was talking to him.

"Thank you, Hilarius." He nods, smiling politely at him and reaching out to shake his hand.

"I saw this one coming miles away." His classmate laughs. "You remember that though, right?"

"When you said that if I wasn't going to go after her you would?" Coryo asks, eyebrow raised. "I do remember that. It makes me wonder who let you in..." It's meant as a joke as he makes a point of looking past him toward the security they have at the entrance.

He furrows his brow when his eyes catch on your father standing there, arguing with one of the security guards, his wife by his side.

"If you would excuse me..." He says, walking toward them before Hilarius could even respond.

"Ugh, I know. Why did you even invite her, Y/N/N?" Clemensia complains as Tigris helps you step out of your gown.

"Who?" You ask, unsure what she was even talking about.

"Livia." She states, yet another glass of red wine in her hand.

"Oh, I kind of had to. Connections and all that." You shrug. You weren't Livia's biggest fan, she had a "greater than thou" attitude that drove you up the wall, but who in this city didn't?

"Ah, yes. Of course." She hums. "She had a lot of audacity to show up in that dress though..."

Your head whips around to look at her. "What dress?"

"You haven't seen her?" She gasps. "I thought you saw her! It's this white-based floral, really questionable for someone else's wedding. Looks like a tablecloth." She accentuates the statement with a sip from her glass.

Your jaw ticks and you look toward the door, already seeing red.

"Hey, Y/N, it's okay." Tigris rests her hands on your shoulders, prompting you to look at her. "We'll tell security, they can escort her out if that's what you want."

You take a breath, forcing a smile on your face. "Let's not bother them. I'll just go chat with her." You smile, stepping out of the dress in bare feet, quickly grabbing Clemensia's overfilled wine glass from her hand on your way out the door.

"Y/N, Wait! Don't!" Tigris calls after you, well aware of your notorious temper by now, but you don't listen.

You're in your white slip when you storm back out to the reception area through the back patio, immediately and quickly scanning the crowd for the guest in question. You know you have seconds before Tigris likely tries to stop you, but you know Clemensia won't. Then, you see her.

You're seething already. That's practically a wedding dress on its own. You would kill her.

You stomp across the ground, tunnel vision locked on her as she raises her glass to her lips, laughing, and talking with other guests, completely careless to what she had done wrong. Well, she would learn today.

"Livia Cardew!" You grin, walking up to her. "I don't recall sending you an invitation, but here you are!"

Immediately, she's taking in your appearance, giggling at your lack of appropriate attire and shoes. "Y/N! Congratulations." She says, eyes finally locking with yours again.

"May I have a word?" You ask, already grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

"Is there a problem here?" Coriolanus asks, addressing only his security as your father stands there, red-faced with anger.

"Yeah, they've got no invite." He nods, showing Coryo the list in his hands which he quickly pretends to look over.

"Oh! Sorry, yes. There you are..." He says, pointing down at the bottom and your father visibly relaxes. "Under the title there that says 'not welcome under any circumstances'... Well then." He looks at your father now for the first time, tilting his head at him.

"No, this is my daughter's wedding and we will be let in!" He demands, raising his voice.

Coryo clicks his tongue, slightly shaking his head. "No, sir, I thought we were clear on this."

"No, you said the wedding. This, if I'm not mistaken, is the reception. I made my sacrifice. Now, I'm here."

"And only about two hours late." Coryo hums uninterestedly, looking down at his watch. "Father of the year."

Your father's fuming, and it's hard for Coryo to not laugh in his face. "I paid for everything here! You can't deny us entry!"

"I can." Coryo says. "Well, actually, my apologies. Mrs. Y/L/N, you are welcome to come in, if you'd like." He smiles at her, polite demeanour flicked back on like a light switch.

Your father quickly pulls her back behind him. "It's both of us or neither of us. Go ask our daughter." He states, gripping tightly on her arm.

"Oh, no. I won't be ruining our wedding." Coryo shakes his head, firm in his decision. "I'll tell Y/N you send your love, Ma'am. Have a good night."

"No! You will let us in right now or-" Your father's tantrum is interrupted by a commotion across the yard, drawing Coryo's attention. People gasp in shock, and then he sees you, about to absolutely lay into Livia Cardew, who now has red wine all over her face and the front of her dress.

"I must be going, now." Coryo tells them, turning back to the security guard and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt to be able to roll up his sleeves. "If you don't mind, call for peacekeepers to escort him from the property. Thank you."

He doesn't have time to hear your father's angry disagreement as he walks away.

"So," You drop her arm, turning to face her. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but this isn't your wedding." You spit, gesturing to her dress. "And listen, I get it! You're jealous. That's fine, but it's extremely tacky and honestly embarrassing for you to wear a white dress to a wedding that's not yours."

Livia's lips fall open in shock, looking down at her dress before she laughs. "Y/N, come on. It really isn't that serious, you realize that, right?"

You stare at her for a moment, weighing your options. You could smash the glass over her head like you wanted to, demand that she leave immediately, or, you could 'accidentally' spill the glass on her. Before you complete the thought, you're throwing the contents of Clemensia's glass at the front of her dress, smiling as it splatters up over her face and in her hair, dripping down the front of her expensive-looking gown.

"Oops."

Livia gasps, wiping the red substance from around her eyes and flicking it off. "I thought that for one day you could be normal! God, you are vile!" She's practically screaming now.

"This is entirely your fault, you do realize that, right?" You tilt your head at her, a slight laugh under your tone. "If you wanted my husband just say that."

"I- ugh!" She groans in frustration and anger, swiping her hands over the liquid on her chest and flicking it all at you, staining the perfectly white satin of your slip. You look down at it, and then back at her. You were about to go through the roof.

The amount of people watching in the immediate vicinity is the only thing keeping you from grabbing her hair and shoving her head into the dirt. You decide to scream instead.

It turns into more of a wail, pumping angry tears into fake sad ones. Coryo is there in a second. "Darling, what's happened?" He asks, horrified as he looks between the two of you, grabbing your shoulders.

"I-" You sniff, pointing to the girl in front of you. "I just came to offer her something to change into because that is out of dress code and I tripped and-" You hiccup as he's rubbing up and down your bare arms. "It was an accident, and then she... It was just an accident! Now my dress is ruined and, and-"

He turns his gaze to Livia who just looks pissed while you ramble on about having had a little too much to drink, that was all. He's sure that's not what happened, he knows his wife better than that, but this show was not for him. He looks her up and down, visibly disgusted by her choice of dress. It honestly looks better now.

"Coriolanus that's not-" She chuckles with the shock of the accusation, shaking her head as she pleads with him.

"It's time for you to go." He tells her, looking toward a member of security who's not busy with your father, quickly waving him over.

Livia looks at the approaching security man in shock. "I didn't do anything!"

"That dress and causing a scene over it is more than enough." He states, wrapping an arm around your waist and wiping your tears from your cheeks. "Let's get you some water, Darling. It's okay..."

"It's not!" You cry, gesturing to the few small drops of wine on the front of your dress. "It's ruined! She ruined everything!"

Just as she's about to be escorted out, you make eye contact with her, offering a smug smile. She scoffs, which earns her a grab on the arm and a more forceful expulsion from the reception.

"Y/N!" Tigris is rushing across the lawn toward you, careful not to stumble in her shoes and bridesmaids' dress. "What happened?" She asks, addressing her cousin now.

"She's okay, there was just an accident with a glass of wine. We're just going to take a few minutes. I'll help her change." He explains to her.

She nods, looking worriedly down at the small stains in your dress. "I should be able to get this out, alright?" She assures you, rubbing a clean spot of the fabric between her fingers to make sure.

"Okay, thank you." You sniff, leaning into your husband's side as he guides you back up to the house.

You get inside and upstairs to what has become your dressing room and secondary bedroom over the last year. As soon as he shuts the door behind you, you can't hold your laughter back anymore. You're practically doubled over with it, and immediately Coryo understands. He chuckles, shaking his head at you.

"What a show..." He grins fondly, pulling you into a hug which you happily return.

"Oh, you liked it?" You giggle, coming down from your laughing fit.

"It was wonderful." He agrees, kissing the top of your head. "For a moment I was worried about you."

"Aw, really?" You look up at him, jutting your lip out in a pout.

"Definitely." He hums, kissing you softly. "Now come on, let's get you changed, huh?"

"Please." You nod, kissing him again before pulling back to pull your next dress from the closet. "I was supposed to wear this underneath, but now I can't." You sigh, hanging the full dress on the door before pulling the wine-stained one over your head.

"Just that will do, I suppose." Coryo mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you toss the slip onto the ground.

"Oh, you suppose, do you?" You chuckle, reaching up to pull the new dress from its hanger.

"Mhm." He nods, planting a kiss in the crook of your neck. "Makes my job easier later."

You laugh, blush spreading over your cheeks and flushing your chest while you unzip the back. You carefully balance as you step into the opening in the fabric, pulling it up around your waist.

"Don't rush, Darling. It will probably take you a while to recover before we can return to the party." He says, watching you adjust the skirt before you plan on zipping it up.

"Good point." You agree, but make no effort to stop until Coryo places his hand over yours.

"What should we do with all this time we have to kill, hm?" He's already leaning down to kiss over the back of your neck.

"I feel like you have an idea..." You mumble, tilting your head to adjust to his presence.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" He asks as he gently pushes the fabric back down to drop in a pool around your ankles.

"You may have mentioned it..." You turn under his palms as they land on your lower back, gently pulling you closer. "And I love you too. More than you could ever imagine, Coryo."

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girlgenius1111 · 5 months

Text

don't tell Leah

barca femeni x platonic reader :)

based on a request that i changed a little

r has a panic attack at practice, and her teammates help her out. lioness!reader + alexia, lucy, and keira

Playing for Barcelona was a dream, by anyone's standards, and you knew it. You had the opportunity to play with the best in the world, doing the thing you loved more than anything.

This didn't mean that you weren't insanely nervous, though. You'd always been someone who struggled with nerves, but they had noticeably intensified in the past few months. Moving from England to Spain at only 19 would be a lot for anyone, and you noticed it take a toll on your stress levels.

The season was about to start, and you were staring down your first match in the famous blaugrana uniform. Everyone at the club had been nice and supportive since you'd arrived, going out of their way to make you feel comfortable. They teased you for being young, but they always made sure you alright. Lucy and Keira especially, knowing you from the national team where you had also made a young debut, kept a close eye on you.

So, when Jona gathered everyone at the last practice before the first game and announced the starting lineup, everyone cheered and high fived you when he said you'd be starting. You were shouldn't have been surprised; you'd been training well, and the team had several injuries keeping people out. Still, you felt the color drain from your face at his words, but you tried hard to keep cool. You didn't want anyone to think you couldn't handle it. Jona sent everyone off to start their gym session, and you distractedly made your way to weights.

Your brain was working in overdrive, every possible way this could go wrong flying around in your head. You were walking slowly, when a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find Alexia looking at you with a concerned expression on her face.

"Are you okay, chica?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," you responded, forcing a smile onto your face. Alexia nodded, but didn't look so sure as you turned away from her and kept walking.

Alexia had surprised you with how kind she was; she seemed so intimidating, so serious, at a distance, but she was a very sweet person once you got to know her, and she took her job as captain very seriously, meaning she always took time to get to know new players. You weren't acting quite right, and she noticed.

You walked to your station of the circuit that had been set out, back to being completely distracted. You didn't notice as Ingrid came to stand next to you, your partner for the workout. You were losing your grip, and fast.

What if you messed up? What if you got an own goal? What if you got hurt? What if you hurt someone else? What if you got a yellow card? Or a red card? What if you played so horribly, everyone would realize what a mistake it had been to sign you?

Your breath was speeding up, and you felt disconnected from the world around you, as if nothing was real.

"Y/n?" Ingrid called quietly, noticing that although you hadn't yet touched the weights in front of you, you were breathing hard and fast, like you'd just run a couple sprints.

"Need a sec," you managed to gasp out, slipping out the door and walking quickly to the locker room. Ingrid looked around, noticing that no one had really noticed your departure, except for Alexia, who was had been watching the whole thing. Alexia walked over to Ingrid, a questioning look on her face.

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. She seemed distracted, and she was breathing really hard even though we hadn't started yet, and then she just took off." Ingrid replied, looking at the door through which you'd disappeared. Alexia tilted her head towards the door, and Ingrid nodded. Without saying anything else, they exited the room quietly, making their way down the hall the the locker room.

As they got closer, they could hear your gasps for breath, and they sped up. They entered to find you hunched in a little ball at the foot of your locker, head tucked tightly against your knees. It was clear to both girls what was going on.

Alexia turned to Ingrid, speaking quietly. "Go get Lucy or Keira, fast."

Ingrid nodded, turning on her heel and retreating back the way she came. Alexia remained, approaching you slowly.

"Hey, y/n, can you hear me, cariño?" She asked comfortingly. And you nodded your head jerkily against your knees. Alexia sat down next to you, leaving a little space in between you both.

"That's good. Are you having a hard time breathing?" she asked, even though it was evident that you were. Again, you nodded.

"Okay, that's okay. Ingrid's getting Lucy or Keira. Is there anything I can do?" She asked, unable to sit next to you in such distress and do nothing. You didn't respond immediately, thinking it over in your head. It sounded like she really wanted to help. So, you extracted your hand from where it was wrapped around your leg, and shakily extended it toward's Alexia.

Alexia gripped your hand tight in hers, running her thumb along the back in circles, hoping to bring you some comfort. You held onto her like a lifeline, whole body trembling as you fought to bring enough air into your lungs. You heard a pair of footsteps approaching, and soon, someone was setting a hand on your back.

"Y/n? You with me, buddy?" Lucy asked, sitting down on your other side. "We've gotta take those deep breaths, remember? Can you try with me?" Without waiting for a response, she was tugging your other arm away from you, and placing it over her chest. "With me, okay?"

You felt the steady rise and fall of her chest under your hand, and you tried to match it, you really did. It wasn't working though, and as Lucy's attempts to help you failed, you only grew more panicked. Lucy shushed you softly before speaking.

"Don't freak out, you're okay. Do you need your inhaler?" Lucy questioned, and you nodded frantically, but remembered it wasn't in your bag. Keira had made you give her an extra, though, and you tried to tell Lucy all of this in between gasps.

"Kei- has one- in her bag-" You stuttered. And you felt Alexia's hand leave your grasp as she presumably moved across the room to get the inhaler.

It wasn't something you needed often, only when you were really anxious, had a really bad panic attack. It had happened once at an England camp, and you'd forgotten your inhaler at home, which Leah was not happy about, at all. Since then, she'd carried an extra, and she'd made sure to tell Keira and Lucy not to let you anywhere without one, even though you'd only used it a cumulative three times in the past three years.

Alexia returned quickly, handing the inhaler to Lucy, who uncapped and shook it. Alexia resumed her place by your side, hand finding yours again. You clung tightly to her, as Lucy tried to get you to lift your head off your knees.

"Come on, buddy, help me out here a little," she stated, though not unkindly, nudging your exposed cheek with her hand. You lifted your head slightly, and her hand came up to grab your chin, tilting it up. Your eyes met hers, and she hated how scared you looked.

"Open... deep breath in... hold... okay, breathe out," Lucy said, talking you through the very practiced routine. She took you through the process twice more, and you could feel your lungs relaxing. With every breath, you drew in more air, until you didn't feel like you were minutes away from dying anymore.

You leaned your head back against the locker, shutting your eyes tightly as you felt your heart rate slow back down. Lucy waited a minute before speaking.

"What happened?" She asked, knowing you didn't have panic attacks for no reason.

"I'm starting tomorrow," you whispered, "just kind of freaked out."

Both girls nodded in understanding.

"Does this happen a lot?" Alexia asked, your hand still in hers.

"No," you replied, pausing. "A little more often since I moved, but still not all the time."

Alexia looked at you for a minute. "You tell us if it gets worse, yes?"

"Promise," you replied, bringing your head back down to send her a reassuring smile. Lucy was silent next to you, and you could feel the disapproval radiating off of her. Just as you were about to call her on it, you heard the sound of fast footsteps in the hall, and Keira was racing into the room. She looked surprised to see you calm.

"What- Ingrid said you were- and that-" She spluttered, looking between the three of you.

"I'm good, Kei," you started, but were interrupted by a scoff from Lucy. You looked at her, annoyed, while Alexia turned to her, confused.

"You wouldn't have been fine if Keira didn't have one of your inhalers," Lucy said, frustrated.

"You didn't bring your inhaler, y/n!" Keira scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

"I got a new bag and forgot to move it over. It's not a big deal."

"It would have been a big deal if you had suffocated." Lucy mumbled.

"I wouldn't have suffocated! At the most, I would have passed out, woken up, and been fine." You replied, embarrassed that they were being this stern in front of Alexia.

"I'm still telling Leah," Keira said, uncharacteristically serious.

"Don't you dare, she'll kill me!" You said, not really believing that Keira would tell your captain.

Keira opened her mouth to respond, but Alexia interrupted her. She looked amused at the three of you, but her tone still rang with authority, like it did when she wanted to be taken seriously.

"Do you have another extra?" Alexia asked. You nodded. "I want one for my bag. Just in case," she said, and you groaned. Keira and Lucy grinned triumphantly, and Alexia's lips lifted into a smile too.

You thought you'd escaped the overprotectiveness when you'd left England, but apparently it was still thriving here. Or maybe, this was just how the team operated; always looking out for each other.

-----

let me know if you want to see more of young reader and the team :)

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas #barca femeni #ingrid engen #lucy bronze #keira walsh

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blingblong55 · 6 months

Text

The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations:

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

----------------------

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls.

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw.

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms.

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death.

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart.

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future.

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours.

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told.

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left.

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force.

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war.

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs.

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware.

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him.

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem.

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it.

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband.

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear.

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you.

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ]

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun.

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover.

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break.

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them.

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband.

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence.

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy.

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states.

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

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the-kr8tor · 27 days

Note

Hi! I hope you're well! I've got a bit of a request (maybe? idk can be whatever u want it to be:D) So- R recently has had their wisdom tooth removed, and I think you've seen how people get so loopy afterwards. I think it'd be hilarious writing Hobie trying to keep a straight face and talk to R rambling on about some random things in the most serious manner he can muster lol

Thank you for requesting! Muah 😘 ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie's nervous for no reason, he knows you're alright behind the tooth shaped door but the sound of the drill’s muffled whirring has his spidey senses going haywire. He thinks it's the weird smell of the dentist's office and the stark white of the walls that adds to his anxiety. His leg nervously bounces to the beat of the crappy music that the dentist's assistant keeps playing on loop (torturing him basically.)

He kneads at his temple to get the scraping sound out of his ears, due to his enhanced senses that includes super hearing, he can hear every pull and tug of your tooth, unfortunately. But he thinks you have it worse since you're the one who feels every tug and pull. Or maybe he just hates it when you get hurt, especially if he can't help you or even see you. He curses the tooth shaped door for hiding you from his view. Seriously, who makes a door shaped like that?

With a sigh, the toothy door finally opens, and out you roll out of it in a squeaky wheelchair. Hobie stands up lightning quick to get to your side. The dentist smiles at him with her perfect teeth, hands guiding you out of the sterile room.

“She’s good, don't worry.” The dentist senses Hobie's worry, or she just sees it etched on his face. “Your girl's a bit loopy because of the meds but it'll wear off in a few minutes.”

Hobie kneels down to face you. He almost laughs loudly at your swollen cheek that makes you look like a squirrel that's hiding its nuts inside its mouth. He rubs your knee softly to wake your foggy self based on how glossy your eyes are. Drool drips from the cotton in your mouth and he swears he almost loses it right there and then.

“Hi, love, ready to come home?” Hobie smiles softly like he usually does when he finds you endearing. Despite all the bloody saliva dripping out of your mouth.

“Hat?” You ask, voice murmured by the cotton. Hobie guesses you said ‘what?’ instead of asking for his invisible hat.

Raising your hand to his face, you give him a good pat on his cheek, you then let out a giggle that sounded more like a cackle. It all makes him raise an eyebrow.

“You gave her the good stuff huh, doc?” He asks, never leaving his eyes off your disoriented self.

The dentist chuckles, “just give her paracetamol for the pain and don't let her eat or drink anything for an hour or two if she can help it.”

“Thanks, doc.” Hobie gives her a polite smile while standing back up to his feet. “Ready to walk with me?”

You narrow your eyes at him, eyebrows knitted, hands balling at your soft pants. You dressed for the occasion, or rather, dressed down for it. You had the foresight to know that you'll be bleeding all over your clothes right after. Like how you are right now with one of Hobie's old band shirts. He clearly doesn't mind since he owns a hundred like them. But he won't miss the opportunity to tease you about it once you're sober and well awake.

You look at him like he told you the copper you gave him is in a poor state. “I hab boyfriend.”

“I know you do, it's me.” He sees the dentist crack a smile. “Get up, love, you'll kick my arse if we miss your episode.”

“Episode?” You once again ask with wonderment.

“Yeah, that dragon show you like so much. Up you go.”

“Dragons?!” Your voice echoes out in the room, like he just told you dragons are real. You stand up quicker than he thought you could. “Really?” Your question cements what he thinks. “They're dragons right? Not wyverns, they're different creatures y’know.” He tamps down a laugh.

Holding you by your biceps, Hobie flicks his eyes behind you and over to the dentist who just shrugs with a grin. “Her tooth was stubborn. Sorry, I could've given her the lighter stuff but she would've felt it.”

“That's alright, doc, this is how she usually is.” He jokes, which you chortle at. Well at least you recognize humour amidst the fog of whatever concoction the dentist gave you. “Thanks again.” He waves goodbye whilst he guides you out of the clinic.

“Why are you so pretty?” You look at him with sparkling eyes like you're about to cry from his sheer beauty. Tapping his chin, cheek squished against his shoulder, you don't look at where you're walking as you continue to admire him in the sun. “So p-pretty…like a-an angel.”

Hobie does all the walking for you, his arms are looped around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the pavement. The tips of your shoes grazes the concrete as you squish his cheeks in your hand, making him pout from your cuteness overload.

“An angel? Just last night you called me a dick for eating your mango.” How could he know you were trying to save it inside the fridge?

You giggle, “mmm, mango.”

“I'll buy you a hundred more if you continue to dote on me.” You two finally make it to the van, he thanks his abilities for not getting winded out by the trek.

You lean back dramatically, making Hobie catch you in his arms. You both look like a cover from a romance novel.

“I can't! I have a boyfriend.” You say with your whole heart, and as serious as you can with your mouth full of cotton.

“Fuckin' hell.” He laughs, lifting you back up before someone in the street sees. “I'll buy you some ice cream if you get in the car. Mango or chocolate flavour?”

“I will,” you poke his chest, “not be,” poke “bribed by you–you stranger!” You poke him several times.

Hobie catches your finger mid poke. Leaning closer to your face, he smells the iron from your mouth. You sniff, moving your head away from him with a pout.

“Love,” he says sweetly, catching the back of your head before it falls further back. Laying his forehead against yours, he gives you a minute to recognize him from his warmth alone. He'd give you forever if he can. Holding your hand, he raises it to his chest, letting you feel the familiar thump of his heart. He remembers that you do it whenever he gets home from patrol. “It's me, yeah?”

Hobie doesn't realize the tears brimming in your eyes. He stands up straight at the sound of your quiet sobbing.

“We're gonna miss the dragons.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks, the cotton in your mouth threatens to fall out as you weep in the parking lot with him trying his best to wipe the tears while he coos softly at you.

Hobie definitely has his work cut out for him, now to get you home without crying about dragons or acting like he's kidnapping you. Yet, he'd gladly do it all over again if it's you.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie fluff #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #hobie brown fluff #tw blood #fanfic

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togrowoldinv · 9 months

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Performance Review

Lawyer!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Natasha calls you into her office for a performance review

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, sex in a public place, oral (R receiving), thigh riding, very muscular Nat

Note: I cannot get lawyer!Nat out of my head so here she is again. You don’t need to read the other installment, but I’ll link it for fun. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

It’s been a few months since Natasha chose you to be her mentee. Everything has been going great. You have learned so much about law and life from Nat.

Natasha scheduled a meeting with you this morning, so when you get to work, you go to her office. It’s early. No one but you and Natasha are in the office so far.

“Knock, knock,” you say as you enter her office.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Natasha says. Her voice is velvety from morning disuse. “I missed you last night.”

You cross the threshold of her desk and kiss her lips sweetly.

“I missed you too,” you say. “But I have to hang out with my colleagues, or they might realize I’m dating my boss.”

“Mhm, but isn’t this sneaking around fun?”

Natasha pulls you in for another kiss. This one is longer and deeper. You feel weak in the knees as her strong hands hold your face. Your cheeks are being squeezed, but you don’t mind.

“Nat,” you whimper against her lips. “Is this what you scheduled a meeting for?”

“Actually,” she begins, pulling away from your lips. You miss her already. “It’s time for your performance review.”

She gestures for you to sit in the chair across from her desk. People are beginning to arrive at work, so Natasha turns on the gloss over the glass of her office. No one can see what is happening inside.

“So, there are a few categories I’m reviewing you based on,” Natasha explains.

You nod along. You can’t really focus when her breasts are spilling out of her dress, and her collarbone is there looking so kissable.

“You’re performing well in most categories,” Nat says. “But your courtroom presence could use a little work.”

“I get nervous,” you admit.

“I know, but I need you to do better.”

You swallow thickly at the criticism. Natasha’s gaze softens when she notices. She stands up from her chair and leans down to your eye level.

“What can I- um- what can I do to prove myself to you?” You ask.

“I have a case,” Natasha says. “We go to court today. Familiarize yourself with it and meet me downstairs in an hour.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say. You stand up from your chair and Natasha stands up straight again. She hands you the file.

“Hey, if you do well today, then I can think of a few ways to give you a real performance appraisal,” Natasha says, kissing your cheek lightly before she turns around and sits at her desk again.

You can’t help but smile at that. Back at your desk, you read over the case. It seems easy enough. Just a simple contract gone wrong. You meet Natasha downstairs as promised.

She puts her hand on your thigh as you ride to the courthouse. It is too high up for a friendly touch, but her driver doesn’t seem to notice.

Court goes well, and you feel more confident with Natasha by your side. You get everything your client was asking for. The courtroom begins to clear out, but Natasha remains sitting at the table.

“Are we good to go?” You ask her.

“One minute,” Nat says.

She leaves you gathering the files as she talks to the bailiff. He turns and leaves the room so only you and Natasha remain.

Natasha crosses the room to reach you. When she does, she pulls you in for a kiss. It takes you by surprise in such a place like this.

“Natasha,” you say, breathless from her kiss. “Here?”

“Here, baby. I told you that I would give you a performance appraisal,” Natasha says.

She takes your hand and leads you to the judge’s bench. Nat sits you down on the chair and lifts your dress over your hips. Her strong hands grip your thighs to pull them apart. Pulling your underwear to the side, she dives into you. She wastes no time licking at your pussy. Your juices on her tongue makes her head spin.

“Natasha, what if someone comes in?” You ask, glancing towards the door.

“I paid off the bailiff. No one will come in,” Natasha replies, her voice pulsing off your center.

At her words, you let yourself enjoy what she’s doing. Nat takes your clit into her mouth and works expertly to get you close to your high. She knows exactly how to get you off.

“Fuck Nat, I’m going to come,” you say, your head thrown back in pleasure.

Natasha hums in content against you and you let yourself go. You bite your lip trying not to scream as you come for her.

“That’s a good girl,” Natasha praises you. “You did so well, baby.”

You pull her up for a kiss. Nat straddles your lap and obliges. Her thighs are muscular under your hands as you pull her closer.

“You know one more part of your review is to discuss how you work with your boss,” Natasha says.

You kiss her neck and collarbone in response. Her breasts completely spill out of her dress now. You move the red material away from her chest to suck and lick at her nipples. Natasha loves the way you worship her body.

She pulls her dress up her waist and rubs her pussy against your bare legs. She may be the one with the muscular thighs, but she loves the way your body feels against her. So smooth and soft.

You pull moans from her as she continues to grind on your thigh. You wish you had time to see the rest of her body, but this right here is still perfect. She looks ethereal as she rides your thigh. Her arms wrap around your neck, slightly choking you but you don’t mind.

“Come for me, Natasha,” you tell her.

She moves her body over you a few more times before she comes against you. You kiss her as she works through and down from her high.

“Fuck,” she mumbles. Natasha leans against you fully now. Her head is resting in the crook your neck. She’s got such a tough presence, but you love seeing her like this.

“So, does this mean I got a five-star review?” You ask.

Natasha chuckles and places a kiss to your neck.

“Yes, baby. Five out of five,” she says.

“Yay,” you say.

“You’re too cute,” Natasha says. She shifts in your arms and stands up. “We better get back to the office.”

“Right,” you say. You have a job to do.

The ride back to the office is quiet. She holds your hand in the back seat. When you arrive, the driver steps out, but Nat doesn’t signal for her door to be open yet.

She turns to you and kisses you with purpose. You let her kiss down your neck again. Her hands travel under your clothes again. Things are getting heated when there’s a knock on the car window. Natasha pulls away from you and opens her door.

“Well, well, well,” Wanda says, taking in the sight of the two of you both out of breath and clothes disheveled.

“Not a word, Maximoff,” Natasha says sternly. She steps out of the car and walks by her partner, leaving you speechless in the car.

“My office in ten minutes,” Wanda orders. It is not her usual friendly tone.

You have no idea what will happen next. Still, you can’t help but be happy about the events of the morning.

Who knew a performance review could cause so much trouble?

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff comfort #lawyer!natasha #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff

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silly-writes · 9 months

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What if reader was an old childhood friend of some of the competitors (ie Courtney, gwen, bridgette, Heather, duncan, Izzy, cody, etc) with said character(s) having strong feelings for before reader moved away just to come back into their life during one season with reader initially unaware of these returning feelings in said camper.

Bonus: What if reader/camper did get together in that one season, only for next season to have a love triangle form involving another character. The camper is aware of said triangle forming though reader might be oblivious due to now having eyes only for first camper. What'd this be like for different people?

Compretitors with returning feelings for childhood best friend reader!

u guys r really feeding me with these prompts I can't even lie this one was a little tricky with all these moving parts! Sorry if some of these are a little angsty and don't really have happy (per say) conclusions, but I'm just doing what I think best fits the character! I only write pure fluff if that what im given. I hope you enjoy anyways anon!

Courtney

Courtney is beyond stricken when she sees you.

What are the odds you both would have signed up for the same shitty reality tv show?

Well, high as Courtney would tell you. You always were very similar even back when you were inseparable as children.

You knew Courtney was always very fond of you before you moved away, so the reunion is very sweet, and heartfelt.

The two of you attempt to spend a lot of time catching up on what you missed out on after you had moved, but on the show there isn't much time for it.

Courtney can't help but think about how absolutely heartbroken she was when you moved away.

I would think with Courtney's determined attitude (plus based on what she says to Gwen during their friendship) she has made too many friends.

So when you moved away, especially since she was little, it sort of felt like the end of the world to her.

I imagine you being around is wildly distracting for her. Despite her returning romantic feelings.

You were the only person who ever had that type of close vulnerable relationship with her, she would do anything to please you, receive attention from you, or keep you in the game.

All of it leads to some very undesirable slip ups from her, which with you is how I imagine she goes home on the island.

She watched you as she got pulled away, she's not going to leave it unsaid this time, she remembers what that feels like, she remembers how isolating and awful it feels.

"I'm going to miss you ______!" She called out to you from the end of the doc of shame.

You waved wildly "I'm going to win this for you Courtney!" You call back.

"No- I mean! I'm going to miss you because I'm in love with you!"

You stand there stunned as she boards the boat and calls out one final thing "You had bet your butt you'll win this for me! I just confessed my love to you on live television!"

You try to call back that you feel the same, but Chris does what Chris does best and gets in the way of a good time. Even if the boat hadn't driven her off before you got the chance to confess back, the motor is loud enough to where she probably couldn't hear you anyways.

By action, you two have fully discussed your feelings, and how everything should go now that you're into each other but still competitors.

You both agree that your first real official date should be after the show is over, so while things aren't technically official by next season, you two are undoubtedly interested in each other and therefore not getting involved with anyone else.

You stick true to that, but Courtney can see Duncan keeps looking at you, and she's not stupid, she would know that punks gazes in and out.

She doesn't bring it up to you, she knows you're generally very dense about those kinds of things.

But eventually, she can't take it anymore and her jealousy starts driving her mad.

She declares that you two are official, and that you very much are dating, which causes some tension between the two of you during action since you both agreed it just wasn't a good idea.

After some fighting, fighting, and more fighting eventually it's you this time taking the walk of shame to the lame-ousine.

Courtney fights her way to you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to play out this way!" She says sorrowfully.

But you did, you know just how Courtney is, you know how she gets, and while you didn't fully understand why she did what she did you could've guessed that some kind of fight was inevitable. Plus you know how she gets during competitions.

"Hey don't sweat it," you smile "now that I'm not technically on the show, I don't have as much of a problem doing this-" you say and bring her in for a short and sweet kiss.

After years of waiting for this moment, Coutney can't help but freeze up.

You pull away, and head towards the lame-ousine as she calls "I'll win this for you!"

"You had better win this for me! I just kissed you on live television!" You say smiling as you duck into the back seat.

Gwen

Gwen feels nothing but nervous when reuniting with you.

She was happy to see you sure, but her anxiety held her back in how she displayed that happiness.

She's mainly worried that too much time has passed since the two of you knew each other, and that the two of you won't have anything to talk about anymore.

Eventually the two of you slump back together and things go back to the way that they were before you had moved away.

Another reason she was desperately trying to avoid you at first is because of the huge massive crush she used to have on you.

And dang it of course you had to get cuter as you got older!

Just as she realizes that those feelings for you are slipping out of hiding, is also when she realizes that it's already too late.

Once again the two of you are glued at the hip, just like how it used to be.

You, being who you are and were, are wildly oblivious to these feelings because of course you are.

Gwen isn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, and even though you two are close she is less so with you, she's been burned before, she's not letting that happen again.

The two of you are sitting next to each other at the talent show when it happens.

Heather goes up on stage and says "Originally I was going to dance for you, but instead I want to celebrate team spirit with a collaboration" She holds up a dark notebook with an evil look plastered on her face.

Gwen seems to recognize it and instantly freezes up "Gwen? Are you okay?" You asked, knowing immediately something was off.

"She wouldn't," she says, and then braces herself.

"So with words by Gwen, performance by me, enjoy."

She cleared her throat before beginning "Okay so I've been trying to ignore them. But they're just so cute! I know it's been forever since we've seen each other and in that time they have gotten so hot! Out of all my childhood friends, of course it had to be them."

Gwen dashes away from the bleachers, and Heather seems satisfied.

Of course you run after Gwen to comfort her.

She lamented on and on about how you must think she's such a creep now, and was acting like a total school girl, still writing in a diary.

But of course you didn't feel like that at all, this was Gwen you were talking about here. The cool, collected, funny quiet girl, and you were obsessed with her.

You two start getting a little more romantic after that, and Heather seeing her plan to drive a wedge between the two of you did not work realizes she has to get her hands messy and plays a little bit more of a direct role in getting you eliminated.

It's a sorrowful goodbye until you see her again in action.

Bridgette

Reuniting with Bridgette is nothing but vibes.

She's beyond stoked to see you again, and even more stoked to ride the wave with you again.

I imagine the two of you met at the beach, and it was love at first sight for her.

You two click all over again like no time has gone past, and she fills you in on every little thing you've missed.

Things are super cut and dry with Bridgette, no mess, nothing but chillness.

She makes her feelings pretty clear, with some hints and stuff.

She learned her lesson the first time, letting you leave without having ever told you how she really felt hurt in ways she wasn't ready to feel again.

But if you don't pick up on it she'll just flat out tell you.

"I'm not doing this cause you're my team mate, I'm doing it cause I like you. You dork."

"I like you too Bridge, you know that."

"Not like that-!" She exclaimed, splashing you playfully, rocking the canoe as she did "-like like like you."

You stare at her in disbelief for a moment.

"what?!" you exclaim.

"Do you not feel the same?" She frowned.

"No I do... I just wasn't expecting-" she cuts you off tackling you rocking the whole boat as she does.

The rest is history and you two are pretty much inseparable from that point onward.

Up until World Tour, where Alejandro starts becoming a plane wide problem.

He tries targeting you at first, but youre so in love with Bridgette he can't get any headway.

But Bridgette being stuck on an opposing team leaves her exposed to his manipulation, he lies about you and makes her question her loyalty.

After she gets stuck to a pole, you find her, but when she explains what happened you just feel so hurt and betrayed that you leave her in the dust (or well, snow).

After a world tour it takes a lot of apologizing and healing to get over what happened between the two of you but you're both determined to make it work so you both put your strongest foot forward and work at it.

Heather

Heather is absolutely stunned when she sees you.

You greet her excitedly when she hits you with a "hello? Earth to nerd, I don't know you!"

That's enough to keep you away from her for a while.

She 100% is only pretending not to know who you are, but what choice did she have? She couldn't risk her feelings for you returning and ruining her chances at winning.

Close tender friendships like you used to have were bad for her image now, she had an impression to keep in this competition and she'd be dead in the ground before she let you or anyone else come in the way of that.

Her tenderness for you starts to show through and through though, you know her like the back of your hand, still, even after all these years.

You'd recognize those glances anywhere, and you knew it meant more than just being a strong team mate when she would point out all the ways in which you did well in the challenges. She was trying to keep you in the game.

The two of you never have any heart to hearts, nothing like that anyways.

She never reveals that she does remember you, not even as you watch her fade into the horizon on the boat of losers.

World tour she's more determined than ever, you've never seen her so deranged to win.

I'd imagine the love triangle would have more to do with her and Alejandro then you and anyone else.

She becomes torn between the two of you, and the inherit struggle in trying to pick over someone who actually matched her wit, and her childhood best friend and longest crush.

She makes her decision when she inevitably votes you out.

"Heather... you voted for me?" You asked, heart breaking, eyes already feeling wet.

She scoffs, "Don't take it so personally."

You sniffle a little bit, and then shake your head "I should've known better than to fall for your two faced snake self twice." You spit.

And with that you're gone.

She's not stupid, she's not forgetful either, and you knew that she knew just what "twice" really meant.

But she'd dug her grave now, she would just have to hope it could hold a million bucks.

Duncan

The meeting with him is very awkward I'd imagine.

He'd likely pretend not to know you until he can get a moment alone with you.

I would imagine he's largely embarrassed of your relationship due to the fact that he met you before his Juvie days, and you were one of the only people who had known him before he became nothing more than a delinquent.

So yeah, he's hell bent on making sure people don't find out about you two knowing each other.

But we all know deep down Duncan is a totally sweetie, even if it is deep, deep, deep down. His affection for you is bound to show one way or another.

Ever the observant one I'm sure it was Courtney who noticed first, marveling at how strange it was that you two of all people had romantic feelings for each other.

She urged the two of you together, subtly, attempting to be your sort of wingman, unbeknownst to even you.

Eventually Duncan works towards getting her voted out because of this, he's so obsessed with keeping his bad boy persona he'd do just about anything in this competition to keep it up. Even risk losing a million big ones.

You knew something was fishy about Courtney getting voted, but you couldn't put your finger on what. At least not until you heard him in the confessionals.

"I had to get that Courtney chick voted out, she was getting too close. I hate people who get to close,"

"Duncan!" you exclaim.

You can hear him mutter curses from the outhouse.

"Forget it! You know I can't believe I was actually starting to like you again!"

After that it's a nonstop battle for Duncan to win back your affections.

I would imagine the love triangle would consist of you, Duncan, and of course, Courtney.

She would start falling for you based on the way you shamelessly defended her despite your feelings for Duncan.

Only problem for you was those feelings hadn't exactly gone away since last season, and you were still very much into him.

You three fight a lot, and are the reason all three of you end up going home.

Which leaves nothing but time to work out your messy feelings for Duncan, and his for you.

But maybe time is really all the two of you need.

Izzy

Izzy is a bit of a wild card (obviously).

I feel like reuniting with her is just super duper chaotic, and very overwhelming at first.

She wants to fill you in on every little detail in her life within the same second she sees you again.

But you remember how to rein her in, she really hasn't changed much from the chaotic messy kid she was. (save for being a criminal now (whoops!)).

You being in the challenge with her would keep her much more rallied and motivated towards an understandable goal.

She can feel those intimate feelings creeping back, but she isn't shy with it.

I imagine she probably would've confessed to you once before, when you first moved, only neither of you wanted to try out long distance and thought it might only ruin what a good friendship you had. So through your move you decided to just stay friends.

You don't get long to sit and wonder about if those feelings still linger for her as they do for you when she abruptly asks

"So hey, are you interested in dating during the competition?" she asked, sitting beside you, anything but shy.

"What?"

Izzy was nothing if not explorative, she collected new experiences like pokemon cards, and she wanted to live fully every part of life.

"It might be a little bit messy. But I think maybe it could work, if all that was keeping you was distance the first time... well... I'm here now."

She stares at you with an expectant kind of rare almost nervous look, and though the confession is anything but picturesque, with her, it's perfect.

I think the love triangle would come in with her next season with maybe Alejandro falling for you.

Hard to say whether his attempts at flirting are due to advancing in the game, or genuine attraction. Either way you have trouble picking up on it, especially when things are going so well with Izzy.

I wouldn't say Izzy isn't a jealous person, I just think she could fall either way, depending on the person, depending on the day, the humidity in the air, basically on nothing at all. She's nothing if not erratic.

With Alejandro, she might be inclined to threaten him with her license to kill depending on her mood, and depending on what he tries to pull with you.

Cody

The reunion with Cody is one that is very heartfelt, and he instantly lights up upon seeing you.

You can see that he's fairly committed to his "too cool for school" schtick, so having any genuine connection with him might be a little tricky.

He's one person I feel like would have definitely tried to keep in contact with, it wasn't anything like every day phone calls, but the two of you had definitely spent at least some time sending letters back and forth.

So when you too meet there isn't a lot of catching up to do, only some.

He's overall very excited to see you back, and you know him enough to know that, even if he's refusing to show it.

You can feel those creeping feelings sneak up on you until the hit you smack in the face during one of the challenges.

"Cody!" you exclaimed during one of the challenges as he hit the ground hard.

"I'm fine," he lied, his voice strangled, the wind having been knocked out of him wholly.

You helped him up, and picked up a piece of paper that had tumbled out of his pocket and went bouncing a few feet.

At first you mistake it for trash, but with the way that even injured and put out Cody grabs for it, you figure it must be something good.

You were due for a little bit of teasing when you decided to open it, only to realize that it was a letter from you.

It's an old one, a really old one, perhaps even the first one you'd ever sent.

"Uhhh... how'd that get in there!?" He exclaims, swiping it out of your hands which are too stunned to fight against it.

Realization dawns on you just as quickly, there is only one reason he'd would've kept that with him after all those years.

"Oh my god Cody, you like me!"

The rest is history, and you two start dating among the challenges.

The conflict would come with Sierra I would think, who's hell bent on breaking you two apart.

All of her attempts fall flat unfortunately for her, and you two stand as one of the more healthy and strong relationships within the show.

#I hope this is as fun to read as it was to write!#oh my god is 3am #what am i doing #anyways hope u enjoyyy!#total drama #total drama x reader #total drama imagines #fanfic #td #total drama headcanons #td courtney #td heather #td gwen #td cody #td duncan #td izzy #x reader

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punkpandapatrixk · 4 months

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Full Cold Moon in Cancer ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Happy New Year~!🍀It’s January already but, gosh, aren’t we all still preparing for the spring equinox this year🍓That’s when the real new year begins, aenergetically~🎍

The Full Cold Moon on 26th December carried a theme surrounding Home and Hearth. It touches on our IC (Imum Coeli) and 4th House in our natal chart. The IC tells us who we are when no one’s watching, and after we become super clear about that, it helps us realise what kinds of company are legitimately good for our sense of belonging in this mortal world.

Your IC can literally shed light unto the reasons you feel alone and separated from the people around. The Full Cold Moon in Cancer—ruler of the 4th House—invites us to take a look at our sense of familyship whilst being incarnate on Earth.

People on this Planet have been struggling with an immense sense of loneliness since the introduction of social media; isn’t that strange? How is it that the more people we’re able to connect with the more miserable we feel on the inside? Well, isn’t it clear that social media has helped us become more aware of what’s truly FAKE when it comes to human connections?💍

Our IC deeply craves real familial connections. Moving forward, wouldn’t you rather entertain soul-based friendships that really care about your wellbeing as a Human being? This Cold Full Moon in Cancer, you’re invited to once again die to everything and everyone that doesn’t make you feel seen, heard, respected, or wanted👻

Fake connections, whether online or offline, can go fuck ‘emselves🥢

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Pile 1 – The Choice to be Free Has Always Been Yours to Make

i d e n t i t y – Knight of Pentacles

Others may think you are mad, but you of all people know there is method to your madness. More than everybody else gives you credit for, you’re actually somebody who’s very strategizing. You are careful with your plans and you think very many things through before you execute your plan. Others simply do not understand this mechanism in your brain because you’re quite unique, quite unorthodox even. This Full Cold Moon, you are invited to ponder if the source of your misery is actually other people’s beliefs about you rather than your actual incapability.

Just because you’re following a strange path of your own doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. Weirdos throughout history have changed societies for the better. We should all be thankful to weirdos—and especially, WITCHES. Did you know that WAY TOO MANY of our advances in science and medicine were actually done by witches? They burnt and hanged the witches and took credit for all of their hard work. Tsk tsk tsk… I raise my cup to all y’all witches who’s working to blast open new pathways for the rest of Mankind🍸Keep doing you. Keep going because spring will surprise you with loads of delights~🍬

s e r e n i t y – Queen of Pentacles Rx

You’re a helpful soul, that much is apparent. But you’ve got to learn some discernment so that you don’t get taken advantage of very easily. What the Queen of Pentacles in reverse is trying to show you is that, unfortunately, too many people in this world don’t even deserve to be helped. Not by you, at least. Unless you’re getting paid for rehabbing messed up people, let them deal with their own mess and grow up from it. Ultimately the Queen of Pentacles Rx is cautioning you against letting messed up people in your inner circle because these types of people are gonna bring their mess into your Life.

You get to decide, with your skilled discernment, who’s worth helping, fighting for; who’s worth keeping because they give you just as much affection. If, in order to keep serenity in your world you must look like a stingy bitch, let it be. Be selective with who you give your time and money to. Make sure you aren’t sucked dry of spiritual aenergy yourself. Your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides are saying, this whole winter you’ve got shit to manifest—big, big shit. Preserve your precious aenergy so you can manifest real, long-lasting results~!🌳

f a m i l y – 8 of Cups Rx

Having said all of that, this card is saying: don’t easily walk away from things and endeavours that you know from deep within your heart matter. I think you’re so dreamy and floaty that you could have a hard time being realistic when it comes to the physical manifestation of your real desires. You could think, since they’re unrealistic, you might as well give up and choose to focus on other more pragmatic pursuits. If you must leave, leave the people and environments that don’t support your heart’s desires—don’t leave the desires and end up becoming very unhappy with yourself! After all, with your already methodical mind, you actually have all the power in you to bridge your dreams to Reality.

That’s why, honey, the freedom to be free has always been in your mind. Now you’ve just got to make the right decision—what kind of freedom is real freedom to you? The freedom to choose to kowtow to societal expectations or the freedom to walk your own path no matter how lonely (at first)?

‘If you end up with a boring miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.’ – Frank Zappa

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Pile 2 – Art and Romanticism Have Always Been an Important Part of Your Heart

i d e n t i t y – 9 of Cups

You have many dreams, but if there’s one thing, you’ve always dreamt to be independent, doing your dreamy things in your dreamy space. I think you’re the kind of person who’d be considered a quiet eccentric. You have many interests and hobbies, and you’re quite sensitive about having your me-time uninterrupted. I think you could erupt if someone walks in on your serious activity and startle you or if someone in your family tells you to go and do something in the middle of your reading. That kinda vibe. You’re quite a loner, actually. You’re super weird tho XD Do you maybe identify as an autistic kid, fam?

Anyway, please know that this Full Cold Moon is inviting you to ponder more deeply about your place amongst Humans. I have a feeling you don’t really like Humans or at least, you find human interactions absolutely exhausting, for the most part. If you know this blog, you know already how much I prize individuality and being alone if it means peace of mind and faster manifestations LOL BUTT!! In this reading, I’m getting that many of you may want to ponder yet again how you interact with people, especially those closest to you because sometimes, there really are people who care about your wellbeing more than you realise.

s e r e n i t y – 10 of Cups Rx

Many of you choosing this Pile probably haven’t got a nice family background. Of course, there are a million scenarios for each person but for the most part, I sense that you’ve felt familial connections to be emotionally unsatisfying. That’s why you seek emotional fulfilment in this multitude of hobbies and interests. Clearly you’re a very intelligent person, that much I’d like to iterate. And so, this reading seeks to validate your feelings about your eccentricity.

Art and all those dramatic things have always been integral to your sense of identity. I really think you should indulge, as long as whatever dramatic things you enjoy aren’t detrimental to your mental or physical wellbeing. If you happen to be the type that’s already doing detrimental things in your pursuit of an emotional high, this card is suggesting you pause breathe and eat before you go after another round of pursuing that high.

f a m i l y – Page of Cups Rx

When you’re pausing, you can cry. Accepting our emotions and acknowledging that they make us Human usually comes with a sense of grieving for all the ways we’ve thought ourselves as being in the wrong. There’s not a thing fundamentally wrong with you, it’s the people around you that have made you feel like you can’t communicate with them with striking vulnerability. And if these experiences have caused you to bear a lot of dark thoughts or negative emotions, I’d like you to know it happens to the best of us.

You could literally turn your pains into art, if anything. If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, know that the pain you’ve experienced through human connections could be turned into art and that your Art has the capacity to heal those who come into contact with its backstory. And this, totally will have a significant place on the world stage because, as you can see, human interactions in recent years have gotten weirder and weirder in some capacity. So many people are hurting from getting disappointed by the…government and celebrities? LOL

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Pile 3 – Princess Kaguya, Is That You?

i d e n t i t y – 2 of Cups Rx

At the core of your being, you’ve always been different in that your heart is a lot purer, your morality is criminally significantly higher, you’re compassionate and can empathise with people on a level that’s beyond the comprehension of most others. The way you’ve experienced this Human Reality is incomparable to what most others have known. Basically, you’re an alien! And that’s an incredibly modest thing to say about you.

What you genuinely wish to see manifest in this world is vastly more high-vibrational than most people would even care to think about. I hope you accept that you are genuinely such a good person when you’re in your best element. What’s really difficult to maintain is your faith in people, for the most part, because you haven’t really met anyone who’s capable of giving their heart to you as deeply as you’ve given yours. This whole experience has broken your spirit and faith in a lot of things.

s e r e n i t y – 9 of Pentacles

And thus, you’ve carved out a Life of your own, quite separate from most people you’ve ever known. I’m sure you’ve burnt a lot of bridges up until just recently, and I sense, many of you simply know there’s still a few more to burn going forward. This is your confirmation that you’ve done the right thing. In this Human world, too many people buy into the idea that to be good is to be social; but you’ve experienced firsthand that that’s often not the case. You know firsthand that many people’s demons get activated by some weird connections to other people’s demons. And you don’t like that.

So you made a decision to walk away from most aspects of social life and worked your butt off to polish your skills. Some of you have spent many years studying; some of you have spent very many months working on a glow-up; some of you have deepened your spiritual prowess and connected to higher realms; basically, you’ve died and become a ghost… Springtime will bring you the resurrection you deserve, bitch!🎍

f a m i l y – King of Cups

About your Soul Fam though, I feel that travel is highly indicated for you. Some of you, you could be meeting a Soul Fam member during travels, but for the majority of you, this aenergy is giving the idea that you’re literally meant to travel the world or live abroad, perhaps even for the rest of your lives. Highly advanced souls can often have a narrative in which they’re expected to die on a land different from the one they were born into. So, if you’ve been thinking of moving to a different country or state, this is your confirmation that it is indeed part of your soul scenario.

Thanks to modern travel, it’s so easy for highly advanced souls to connect with their true Family members from different countries and that’s something we’re glad about LOL If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re going to die alone and sad, that’s totally not the case. If anything, you have so many Soul Fam members who are going to be just as highly spiritual, profoundly dreamy and vastly empathetic as you are. You’re going to be very glad when the time comes for Soul Families to reunite in the upcoming couple of years~ YAY~!

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185 notes · View notes

warningsine · 6 months

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Notice how Helena uses "I" instead of "she" and how Milchik gives her the soft sell.

Combine this with:

her embarrassed "My dad forced me to recite the 9 rules as a child and I did not like it then" admission in front of a camera.

James basically thanking her for risking her life for the company and lying about it. He "cried" about the suicide attempt, and yet he didn't even contact his daughter, since he's telling her this now at the gala as an aside to the event. In terms of family emergency time? Too fucking late. Is this the only time Helena's seen him since then? Not to mention how he didn't want to take responsibility and blamed it all on his daughter's alter ego.

And you'll get a more nuanced interpretation than the "Helena pure corporate evil, Helly R. good rebel" binary one.

Despite doing that cruel "I'm a person, you're not" presentation and being determined to see the process through even after Helly tries to commit suicide, there's some part of Helena that must know that this is messed up.

Sure, she's complicit and not a hapless victim, but she's also a product of her upbringing. Stripping her of her privilege, heritage, cult-like brainwashing/indoctrination and Shiv Roy-like desperation to win her dad's approval gives you Helly.

They are the same person under different circumstances.

There are no contradictions between the fundamental makeup of her innie and outie.

The version of herself Helena brings inside Lumon questions everything and demands accommodation and answers, because she is used to getting what she wants as a privileged woman.

What changes her is the different context she's given.

Helena is a wealthy and powerful woman who gets what she wants; Helly is a powerless woman who is often being tortured. It makes sense that her traits—stubborness and determination among others—and the fundamental sense of "I deserve to get what I want" are present in Helly.

But also make no mistake: they're both prisoners. Helly in a more literal sense, Helena in a figurative one—a prisoner in her family and the role that was imposed on her.

A willing participant that benefits from a controlling system is not free from the harm or influence of it. Acknowledging Helena's abusive circumstances doesn't take away from her as an antagonist, it makes her story more compelling.

Helena's self-serving qualities are more a matter of nurture than nature, because Helly shows caring and compassion as well as rebellion and independence. Helly is like a very young version of Helena.

All of the outies' emotions leak through to some extent.

Helly's "Well, that's a given for me [that I'm an asshole out there]" is a pretty safe assumption to make based on Helena's video, but it also oozes self-loathing. Helena taking it out on Helly does too.

Ultimately, I think this happens on a figurative level to a lot of people who undergo an—emotionally in this case— abusive upbringing. Rejecting their most vulnerable parts and imprisoning them. It's a survival mechanism, and helps them feel like they have more control over their out of control personal life. But, in a way, it makes them more out of control once they get into the real world.

Their inner, imprisoned parts find ways to make it so they can't ignore them. We definitely saw that with Helly threatening to mutilate herself and attempting suicide.

There are consequences to denying and imprisoning any part of ourselves over the long term.

#severance #helena eagan #coherence and cohesion? -10/10. i don't know them. oh well here's to the feels.

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precious-little-scoundrel · 22 days

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Four Weeks in New York

gorgeous gif credit to @violaobanion

Requested: ☑️

Warnings: SO. MUCH. SEX. 18+, reunion jitters, potentially out of character actions due to rough sex? but then again, they’ve missed each a lot other, ok?! Also, i dunno, but beware he’s a horny over thinker and he’s in a funny headspace due to, ya know, war. Jean is a champ, Harry can’t manage to blow a load for awhile, mild breeding kink if you wanna call purposefully making a baby that…Gerry Hamilton and Margaret Blakely make tiny little cameos in here and I swear I’m half thinking of writing this trio of women all giggling over their legendary husbands

Word count: a hefty 7k and we’ve got more coming for ya

Coauthored with m’baby @crazymadpassionatelove

Synopsis: Harry Crosby is sent stateside to be with his wife for a month of terribly needed R&R in the summer of 1944

Caveat: this is based off a portrayal of real people in a tv series, while Jean wasn’t represented by an actress as Harry was, in this price of media I intend the same. I mean no disrespect to the real men and women mentioned and dramatized herein.

Scene One:

Jean had been at it so long in front of the mirror she began to notice every grain of powder collected in her smile lines and every infinitesimal blur of strong coal from around her eyes and -she needed to step away, at least a few inches from the reflective glass and get a grip. At the more sensible distance of gripping onto the edge of the counter -marble and swanky like everything in this posh and paid for hotel- she saw her face restored to what it was, a pretty decent cutie’s with a perfect mask of makeup and freshly styled hair: fit for a homecoming.

It was going to be fine. She was going to be fine. She was going to need to make him fine again, and give him back to them strong enough to come back to her for good. Happiness and dread swirled in a gnawing cocktail inside her, the cruel thought of almost wishing not to be teased with him at all until she could keep him for good fighting with the braver parts of herself that wanted every second of him she could have, even if it had a big red finish line drawn at a month.

A month was a long time, a month was about all they’d had to be married before he left. Technically, or at least Jean wondered if technically, it would mean she’d only been fully “married” for two months. Of course that was nonsense to the general public and the pastors who reminded about vows and the wedding band she flashed at over eager servicemen, but to her select little girl gang, the ones who worked at the factory with her and who had to give up their husbands too- they talked about their brief marriedness with hushed and giggly fondness, like something out of a dream and just as brief.

The fiancés in the girl gang were jealous of this topic and Jean supposed they had a right to be. She indulged the innocents with all their questions about being “actively” married, tried to repay them with the same frankness she’d so desperately sought before her wedding. But as it was, she’d only had a month of active service, and while it had been spent as vigorously as any young couple’s first four weeks of legal license, it had left Jean in the interim with a plain impression of herself being a little bit of a hussy.

She wanted Harry so badly this past year since he’d gone she hardly thought it medically sane. Wanted him so badly, and that was something not even the girl gang could always bring themselves to titter about. It was one thing for Margaret Blakely to joke about her Ev coming back the previous month ‘taking’ his leave in more ways than one, but they weren’t often out here asking each other if nothing really fixed the hunger since their man had been gone. It was all Jean thought of. Jean wanted to ask if it ever cooled, if the sticky frustration with one’s own inadequate fingers ever subsided.

By the dreamy eyed state of the recently visited Mrs. Blakely, the answer appeared to be a resounding no. Nothing ever beat the real thing. And that made Jean want to writhe in frustration before learning that she too, would be visited by a on-leave husband.

A year of being married and only a month of it “active”, Jean had concluded it was a chronic case on her part of salivating need for her Bing, the only cure would be him -him inside her, in perpetuity. All she’d gotten out of Maragret had been a grinning warning to Jean to “get in shape for Major Crosby’s furlough, you’ll spend it on your back.”

Jean could freely admit to herself that she needed to be ripped apart by her man, she needed him lingering inside her when he left again. She just feared that it wasn’t exactly their usual way. How could she tell him, what if that’s not what he needed. What if it was all different, what if it needed to be?

Jean pointed a finger at herself in the fancy gilt mirror, red nails pointing at her fancy clad self in pastel silk and tiny bows, “He’s your husband,” she told herself sternly, trying not to sweat at the idea he could be here any hour, catch her in this state of intentional undress, and help himself to her jittery body, “he loves you, you love him. All you need to do is let him have his husbandly rights and things will go smoothly. It’s a vacation not a death trap. You’ve got a man to patch up, get on with it.”

This speech gave her four whole seconds of empowered determination before a vigorous set of knocks on the hotel suite’s outer door made her jump out of her skin in surprise. She could go open the door but then -what if someone was in the hall with him? And saw her in this state of…lack of…well, her in her lingerie. He had a key, they’d have given him a key. He was the Mister to her Missus Crosby, they were allowed a shared suite.

“Jean?” Hearing that dear voice for the first time in twelve months, even faintly from far outside the bathroom door, flooded Jean with so much feeling her knees locked up and her throat collapsed on her response. He was her husband, her Bing, her first and only love, they’d be alright. They had to be.

Harry gingerly closed the door behind him, the heavy painted wood shutting with a finality that made him feel terribly anxious. While he had been trudging up the hall to their suite he’d been able to laugh a little at his dismal procession, morose shuffling and hang dog attitude. It had been absurd for a guy coming back to see the wife who he loved. He knew that and he could say that again and again in his head in a voice that morphed more and more into Bubbles’ voice an-

-and now he was in the room and he wasn’t anticipating anything, he had arrived and as if he’d just touched down in occupied Europe, he couldn’t help his braced posture or hunted surveillance of the oddly empty room.

“Jean?”

She wasn’t in here, but the en-suite bathroom door was shut. She wasn’t in here but from the bathroom came wafting something so viscerally nostalgic of her that he felt his heart pound in devoted recognition before his brain even caught up: her soap. Not some fancy hotel brand, it seemed she had brought her old stuff, the stuff he’d lathered on her as many times as he’d had the chance before leaving, the stuff she smelled of before church and the stuff that got more strong and pungent when he made her sweat in it from their exertions in bed.

It smelled like Jean in here and it was enough to make him drop his duffel bag with a decided thump. He was staying. This was his wife, everything might be different but some things like soap -they’d still be the same, as would the dry mouthed want it filled him with.

“Jean?”

He ventured further into the room, not bothering to call her name again, maybe being around guys had made him callous to spooking her but no real harm would be done, he was…him.

“Oh! Bing?” Jean sounded flustered behind her door and Harry found himself grinning. “I’m coming! I’m coming right out!”

It sounded less like a reassurance than it did an order to herself, which was amusing and it made him wonder, just how awkward were the two of them going to manage to make this? God knows he’d tripped over himself enough times winning her over the first round, he had such hopes never to revisit the bumbling stages of courtship. Seemed like once they’d married and joined it had been smooth as glass ever since- until…until he’d stopped being himself.

Until he had wandered into a hotel room with a woman who didn't wear a matching gold band. Jean knew nothing of that though. She never would. Sweet peaches and cream Jean who had come all this way to see him. Bringing that soap and the books he saw stacked on the night table. Bringing that sweet, pink pussy he needed to sink himself into. Remind himself of who he was. He didn't want to be Major Crosby at the moment. He wanted to just be Jean's husband. He heard the clock in the room ticking, felt the sweat pooling at the back of his neck as he waited for her. Her Elizabeth Arden lipsticks lined up like perfect little soldiers on the dresser. It had been so long that kissing her was surely going to feel like the first time all over again.

There was more amiss in the room, upon further inspection, besides her trunks and her hat boxes and the lipsticks. Amiss in that: there were elements no hotel should have, the plate of very delicious looking misshapen fudge, for instance, the plate itself looking suspiciously like their wedding set. Harry could describe that pink and green pattern on ivory in vivid detail if you had asked him yesterday, tracing it now was like no time had passed at all since that first breakfast as husband and wife, tittering over having “things” of their own. And beside the plate a book, one he’d not finished when he went over, he realized with a lump growing in his throat. Then there was the bed beneath these things, tidily made but not pristine, ha -how could it be with homey floral sheets in place of pristine white and a monogrammed pillow case each.

Giant embroidered C’s. For Crosby, of course.

Jeepers -he’d taken Jean for the first time on those very sheets, now he was recognizing them, and some very uncivilized part of him suddenly wanted to rip the covers back and find out if her virgin blood hadn’t fully scrubbed out-

“Bing!”

He is awkwardly sitting on the edge of the bed, thumbing through the pages of Look Homeward, Angel when Jean manages to saunter out with a summoned amount of calm. His hair is sleek and trimmed, his jacket well fitting, his whole self in his army duds seeming so comfortable, filled out, self possessed -it’s the floral sheets beneath him that ruins the effect just a little, makes him seem shifty, out of place. That and those great brown eyes suddenly round as a newborn calf’s at the long awaited sight of her.

She’s seen the soldier’s return posters -does he expect the same greeting? No little party at the station in satin and lace here, but they’d both agreed it would be better to be private, secluded, uninterrupted. Now it feels too tame and mild.

Does he want that? That reunion embrace?

Before she can rethink it she rushes him. “Binger!” she gasps out right as he stands to meet her head on, long arms outstretched to engulf her. This she knows, this she dreamed of. If she squeezes too tight she must be forgiven, it’s too fabulous to be considered real for many moments, the feel of his flexing back beneath her hands and his chest under her cheek. It’s tight and jarring and not a bit smooth but it’s him, it’s him and all is well.

Harry has his nose buried in her hair, that smell is wafting in again. It’s Jean -hits him with the force of a rocket and he’s suddenly responding in kind, arms crushing her to him, can’t get close enough, can’t tell her enough about missing her and loving her and how he’s put one step in front of the other all these years for this moment.

“Oh Bing,” she exclaims again, her face just barely pulled away to really get a look at him, her hands on his cheeks, “I can’t believe it. I’ve prayed, every day I’ve prayed for this.”

Prayers -the word sours in his mind after what he’s seen, after how many he’s sent up and not plane returned with an answer. “Mmm, Mrs. Crosby.” he contemplates the dear face before him before dragging his hand beneath her hair, cupping the back of her head with his large hand, watchface cool on the back of her neck. She’s been waiting for him to kiss her, wanting to let him lead, hoping her initial enthusiasm would embolden him like before. Instead he seems lost in archiving her face, those dear, melancholy eyes flitting over every feature, the hands studying and firm but not a caress. It’s obvious there’s something missing here, a piece ajar from the puzzle.

Jean stands atiptoe carefully, and determinedly slots her lips against his plush, red ones. That seems to rouse him a bit, Harry responds instantly, making up for his hesitancy, deepening it as his tongue meets hers in a heart wrenching reunion of sorts. He always was fond of kissing, her Bing. Now he was kissing her senseless and this -this was more like what she imagined.

His hands trail from her neck down the her ribs and into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hips where he vaguely notices she’s adorned in some silky little something, no doubt chosen and worn just for him.

Say something Croz, you big idiot —he thinks to himself, confronted with the fact he is gripping at her and sucking face without another word said besides inane repetition of her name.

“Jean you look…perfect.” he mumbles against her lips.

It’s boyish and reminiscent, the stumbling praises mumbled so earnestly. It makes her giggle fondly. She breaks their kiss and takes hold of his face in her hands, indulging a little inspection of her own. “My beautiful boy,” she croons, “you came back to me.”

She kisses the prominent bridge of his nose and his perpetually furrowed brow and the smooth below each heavily fringed eye, his cheeks, his chin, the corner of his mouth -she pressed at his chest till she’s got him sat on the edge of the bed again. He’s fully dressed, taut as a bowstring and she wants him, needs him, to relax. She can feel the tension, the uncertainty, rolling off him.

She won’t let them take this away from them, she won’t let them rob them of their comfort with each other.

She kneels gently before him and undoes his boots, enjoying the way he pets her hair, quietly admiring its shine and style. His trousers are creased and starched and knelt between his legs Jean finally notices it then, the prominent tent beneath the olive weave. It makes her breath hitch. Was he always this big? Even camouflaged by trousers?

“You must be tired,” she frets aloud, working on the laces, “and cramped from such a long flight. Did you take something? Your eyes are a little…funny.”

Harry nods before realizing she’s not one of his men. Wives tend to value words and sentences, the more syllables the better. “Yeah,” he croaks aloud, “something for the stomach.”

Oh Bing and his stomach. Ever the dutiful wife, Jean rubs the sock feet she just liberated and kneads her way up his calves, hoping to leech some of the tension out of him. She works her way to his thighs, rising back up to her feet when he grabs her wrists and pulls her into another kiss. It’s even hungrier this time and his first moan of the evening sends a jolt of longing triumph straight to her core.

“I’ve missed you.” she chokes out between kisses and he responds by biting her neck, his thumbs rolling the satin in circles on her hips. His front pressing hard and firm against her lower belly, making her mouth run dry.

Still, Harry’s not saying much and if he wasn't kissing and caressing her so ardently, she'd have no clue they were even on the same planet.

And so Jean decides to do something rather bold. Something her mother would not approve of. She puts her hands on his shoulders, briefly causing him to pull away from her neck, then she whispers temptingly in his ear, “Last night I…slid my ring finger inside me. pretended it was you…I won't have to pretend anymore, will I, Harry?”

She feels him twitch against her belly beneath his layers. It’s her turn to kiss his cheek and nibble his neck, finding his little groans to be intoxicating. His grip tightens on her waist as he buries his head against her with his eyes closed, breathing her in. That scent.

That's when she adds in a plea, “Y-y-you're gonna have to…open me

up again Croz.…..you know what I

mean?...my poor little fingers are so

tiny and now I'm back to how I was

on our wedding night…”

Harry’s groan is animalistic and pained and she -well Jean’s a horny, rambling mess and she can’t bring herself to be ashamed, she missed him too strongly. “You're a hero to America.” She swears into his panting mouth, “And to me. I'm gonna give you the strength to help you get through the rest of what you need to do. But I need something from you, I need you to put a baby in me Bing.”

That is what he responds to, like orders in war. He’s good at finding his way with directions. His head rears back and his eyes sharpen with concentration. Jean wants something? he’ll deliver it, always was that way.

He nods.

“Lay back on the bed Jean.” his voice is quiet but she’s never heard it so steady, so commanding. That must be the voice he uses when he speaks to his men over there. If she wasn't squeezing her thighs together and scrambling onto the bed to follow Major Crosby orders, well, she'd cum right then and there. This isn't the same Bing that reads the paper, his beautiful lips mouthing the words as he does, the one who brings her flowers just because, or is quick not to curse in public. This man before her is a war weary Major who is used to being obeyed. Jean intends to follow every word he says, the thought of seeing him off without a little piece of him nestled inside her would just devastate her.

She burrows up against their Crosby pillows, looking like an absolute treat and admiring her man's package that seems to be growing bigger by the second. He's panting like a wild horse above her and she realizes she should heed all that advice she'd been given. Be a good wife, take care of his needs. Her painted toes rub against the sheets as she slowly inches forward to help him undress. Major Crosby beats her to it though, ridding himself of his uniform efficiently and tossing it on to the floor in a rumpled mess accompanied by a huff.

Is he mad? Jean wonders to herself. His freshly exposed cock sure looks mad. It's red, and almost looks hot to the touch as it dribbles and leaks down his thick shaft.

Was it always that big? Were his eyes always so wild? Bright -she remembers them as being bright.

He collapses on her purposefully, a crushing embrace with his hands snarled in her hair, elbows to the bed, his belly to hers, his lips devouring her own. It’s a shock and a thrill, that first feeling of skin against skin again, Harry’s so warm his tongue is nearly scalding and she feels herself sweat in her skimpy finery. The anticipation is harsh, the dynamic fumbling in its ravenous rush, her head spins when an irrational spike of fear slices through the heady haze of desire that his touches coax. Touch? -a mauling of sorts, more like, he is all teeth and nails and assessing hands, grabbing at her ferociously.

Instinctively Jean begins to rub him, his shoulders, his neck, his forearms

-a soothing caress at a kinder pace than he allows but she means it well, channels that little spark of anxiety she feels to sooth his own keyed up self.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she keeps swearing as she feels him buckle just that little bit to the insistent kneading of her hands on his arms, “I’m not going anywhere.” she swears and the rigid line of his body sags further into her neck, some off kilter focus he’s carried about him slipping under her gentle persuasion. “Baby, how about a little rub?” she coos, lithely extracting herself out from under him before she thinks on it too long.

“That might be nice.” he manages, not sure what the hell it is he needs, “My neck maybe..took a little spill a few days ago...” he casually mentions the incident, underplaying that whole fiasco of passing out cold from exhaustion, splattering on the floor like the contents of a mop bucket.

“Then let me rub your neck.” she begs.

He allows it and with a slightly lost gaze he follows her movements as she props up beside him and brings him closer for leverage. She scoops his head into her lap with that familiarity that made him fall first and hard for her, and suddenly he is pillowed on the warm, giving belly of a woman. His woman. And Croz feels himself begin to melt from that feeling alone, long before her clever thumbs start working at the knots nearly calcified at the base of his neck.

She used to do this for him when he was at school, too much reading in an ill advised position had him often so stoved up he couldn’t be of any use on the baseball team. Jean had learned to work her magic then, and Harry had learned how very much he liked his face buried against the swell of a girl’s womb.

Oh fuck -her little speech comes rushing back to him- Jean wants a baby.

Damn the jet lag, the separation jitters and all the rest that got him sent here like a looney to a special holding facility. Jean wants a baby and he hasn’t been rock hard since Dartmouth only to let it go to waste by sleeping it off.

Right when she begins to feel the motion of her hands take effect on his rigid shoulders, her Harry is suddenly lifting his head again, face slightly flushed and creased from the lace of her nighty and he smiles at her then. Mischievous and warm, “C'mere,” he beckons with a voice that means something and so she follows him as he sits up, “stand up babydoll, show me that outfit. Let me appreciate ya.” He slides his warm palm into her smaller one and tugs her to her feet, an easy sort of dance move to bring her round in front of his position, swaying her back and forth just outside the v of his legs.

“Well, look at you.” he marvels at her, his expression gone soft under that wrecked mop of curls. Jean recognizes the old spark alight in him, the one that might go dormant for her when away or when she couldn’t make up her damn mind but anytime she wanted him back?—oh he looked at her like this, like he was lucky as hell to have her and intended to be brave with that luck. “Turn around for me, loverdoll, c’mon, show me what I’ve got, come onnnn Jeaaann,” he insists, his voice playful and insistent as he spins her with a hand at her hip until she shows him the back of this frilly little excuse for nightwear, “Look at that.” he whistles behind her and Jean feels her cheeks burn pleasantly, “Pretty as a fawn, Jean.” he punctuates this odd little compliment with the back of a finger running up the length of her thigh, to the little swell of her rump and Jean knows her legs tremble in helpless response. “Go on, strike a pose for me, I know you didn’t put on this get up for nothin’. Who'd believe it? My Mrs. Crosby out here lookin’ like one of those girls.”

‘Those’ girls, whoever they are exactly, are left nebulous and Jean likes it that way, it gives her a saucy bravery to pitter patter away from his hold and turn back to face his unabashedly admiring gaze. Jean cocks a hip and drops a shoulder, knee turned in, toes pointed. Gerry had made her perfect it a million times in the mirror when she should’ve been sensibly getting into a gown and getting some shut eye instead.

Thank God for Margaret Ann Blakely and her fun loving pastimes. And also: “Screw him for us Jean!!” -thank God for Gerry Hamilton and her brazen preoccupations with her own man, for how she piled on as she convinced Jean of an assortment of little silk things thrown into her suitcase, “Screw him good, for all of us! For Americaaaaa!” the young and empty Mrs. Hamilton’s candor had built until Jean was close to frantic to get into the taxi and leave her best friends and their antics behind.

Jean didn’t doubt for a single minute that Hambone and Ev would shortly be receiving letters that good naturedly bemoaned Jean and Croz’s luck.

“You think you needed to look like this to get me to nail ya?” her Croz teases her now and his grin is lewd and Jean likes it that way, it matches the disrespectful hands that reach out without her Harry’s usual calculation and instead paw at her tits like a sex starved man. It sends a line of electricity straight to the little button between her legs and Jean ends up leaning into those hands until she’s suddenly so near him she’s on top of him and then, easy as anything, he knocks her sideways and under him once more. Legs splayed wide and with a husband lying on top of her with a very determined look on his face -she reckons the games are over.

“Gonna be like a second wedding.” she squeaks out, giddy eyed in excitement, toes curling in terror, he feels so big slotted at the spot.

Was he always so big?

Harry slings her leg over his hip and he’s suddenly in her without even needing to fumble for entrance. Little Croz pries her open all at once in a smooth, brutal, unyielding shove and that’s all it takes, he’s so overwhelmingly substantial that Jean finds herself bowing under him in a climax from the painful pleasure of reunion alone.

“Really, already?” he chuckles at her as she hoarsely keens out her ecstasy beneath him, her nails digging crescents in the flesh of his tense shoulders, his own thumbs stroking along her throat, “I missed you too, Mrs. Crosby.” he laughs.

She slaps at him, lovingly as her throat still hasn’t fully come back to use, “God you feel good.” She croaks.

“Just wait till you learn there’s more.” he teases before pulling his hips back and keeping that far tip barely nestled in her petals before slamming in again so forcefully she feels something funny in her chest.

“Bing!” it’s not a protest on her part but, my God -he, they…they used to give it the ole college try before he left, but this? This must be what it’s like to get really and truly screwed.

Screwing her, that’s what he’s doing and she wonders in a vague haze of helpless sensations if he’ll auger a hole straight through her back to the mattress with this merciless rhythm. She’s as vaguely impressed by his strength and capability as she is by her own body’s ability to absorb it, her freshly rediscovered hole burning at the use and somehow it’s all just a wonderfully heated, overwhelming miasma of delight as she keeps on seizing under him and he bullies her right though one peak after another with only a wicked grin on those full lips to suggest he’s got any idea what she’s so happily enduring.

“I can’t stop, I just can’t stop, it's just so -it’s so much.” she babbles, very keen to get her point across but very unsure what her point actually is. All thoughts, feelings and intentions center around Harry and that fat schlong of his rearranging her insides. She’s not sure her toes have been uncurled in over a quarter hour and her mind’s not been her own for longer still. “You’re so much.” she wails, and for half of it she means not his size but how long he’s been going at it.

“And you’re gonna take it.” he confirms, the hand on her hip inexorable and his pretty face is half snarling at her in desperation. “You miss this?” his voice shakes from his exertions and Jean is sure she’s never heard a more attractive sound than his wrecked breathing, “Miss this, huh? Bet you did, so goddamn tight. No married woman’s got any…any…any business being so tight. Gonna fix that, gonna make you so married you’re not gonna-“ he presses her legs back until she feels her hamstrings burn, knees to her chest, his body lunging into hers…angry again? she doesn’t know he just keeps grunting “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She’s milking him so perfectly, peaking and shuddering and clenching more frequently than he ever remembers and he should be so saved up he can’t manage to hold on but instead -the fuck if he can blow. It just won’t let go. The noise of his work is a lew phwap phwap phwap of split splat suction and from her whimpers and begs he knows he has already spent her but-

Goddamn! Came all this way, waited all this time and he can’t let loose?

Through the haze of her overstimulation Jean can feel something amiss, the tension back and worse than that, there’s the frustrated anger of before. Harry is breathing hard and his face is dark and the prominent vein across his alabaster forehead is popping so significantly she worries about stroke. He’s about to crack a tooth at this rate, his tension is so extreme and then suddenly, there’s a pause.

He stares down at the wet mess where they’re joined, brows knit together and mouth firm before a flicker ignites in his eye and in a fit of rage at himself and this deficient cock, he grabs at one of the decorative pillows and throws it across the room. It bangs dully against the window and flops to the floor.

Unsurprisingly the outburst against cotton batting and fancy trim does little for his pickle, he’s still stiff as a board and nowhere close to relief. He fought a whole goddamn war and came back just to not be able to get his rocks off. What a joke.

Gently as he can, and with rampant self pity running loose, he disentangles from Jean’s snug self and throws himself beside her on his back.

Bewildered Jean is more than a little grateful for the intermission. She does her best to collect her wits, looking over at him and clocking his defeated expression and closed eyes, the hand pinching the bridge of his nose. And poor Little Croz that is a furious magenta red with veins about ready to burst from swelling, sticking straight up from between his legs.

Shifting onto her side to face him rubs her poor kitty just wrong -or right- and a helpless mewl escapes her as she creams herself again from that little movement alone. The sound and shudder of his wife makes Croz crack open an eye, watching intently as Jean bites her lip and timidly runs her fingers through the hair on his chest.

“Come sit on my lap, Jeanie.” he mumbles.

She perks up with a smile, “Whatever my hero wants, baby.” she condones before shakily straddling his lean hips and sinking down with a noticeable squelch. It earns a drawn out moan of satisfaction from both of them. Sensing the agony and desperation of the man beneath her as she begins to lift her hips and slam them back down, juices splash on her feet from the movement. To lift his spirits she attempts her best at shoving her tits in his face while she does it and gets her nipples tugged in thanks.

This right here is perfect, she’s so full she can hardly bear it but he feels so good she ignores the burn of her legs and keeps her pace up, the beautiful expanse of her man laid out before her a perfect spur. The sun seems to have set by now and through the open curtains the sounds and lights of the city pour in, glistening off his sweaty skin like a million stars and doing nothing to dim the noise of his appreciative moans, the hoarse grunts of her name, the sounds of their sticky hips colliding.

“I've dreamed about being full like this every night since you left.” Jean tells him, stuffed beyond her limits it feels like he’s so damn deep he could describe the feel of her cervix in detail.

She can feel those tight bowling balls she's sitting on that need to unload inside her, and precariously she reaches backwards to fondle them with one hand, remembering how he used to react to it. She gets her first high pitched whine of the evening from him at that, his chest heaving and his head thrashing, curls everywhere. “Bing -- oh it's big, it's big, I'll take it all though I-I promise….we gotta make you cum, baby.” she determines, not needing the discarded pillow or fuming passion to alert her to his desperation, “Lemme help you…just fill me up, let it alllll out... you need to, must be aching so bad”

At the mention of the ache he begins to buck into her wildly like a feral thing. Jean would have toppled off from his vigor if he hadn’t seized her hips in an iron grip and held her still for his assault from below. Jean hears herself squealing and whimpering and begging nonsense, still a bit fresh -and respectful- to this new and ferocious side of him. Somewhere in it though, Harry’s beginning to crack, frustration going from anger to fury to desperation to some boyish and pitiful need for relief.

Harry doesn’t mean to groan so loudly, so pathetically but it’s all so perfect and he’s so damn close and Jean’s like a sprinkler down there she’s enjoying herself so much and -why the hell can’t a fella just blow?

Jean instantly stills atop him and cradles his face tenderly, soft searching eyes and lips whispering about …something, something something “baby boy” -and he shudders. His pants are harsh as if he’s about to have a heart attack and his chest is so winded and achy he thinks he might. Or else cry.

Wouldn’t that be fun.

Beneath his hands he feels Jean’s hips begin to flex and she’s grinding on him again, twisting her hips in a slow figure eight that feels like a man’s heaven beneath his palms, and ten times that for his cock. It’s not doing it enough to make him blow but for a moment he decides that’s fine, he inflates his poor lungs again and lays back, admittedly a bit too stiff and rigid, and touches her as she pleases herself on top of him. She giggles shyly to him and her near constant moans are music to his ears as she swivels on his cock. He enjoys watched the pink little folds absorb him and the way their curls brush and mix where they meet, his lower belly a wet mess and streaks of the same running down to her ankles, they’ve made such a soup.

Clam fuckin’ chowder, by the looks of it.

Maybe he did blow. Doesn’t feel like it. And after watching and coaxing her through another melting peak, he lets her sag onto his chest for a minute and regroup before, with a kiss to her hair and a hard smack to her ass, he tells her,

“Hands and knees, Jean, if you want that baby -hands and knees.”

He barked it like an order, and while a little startled by it, she still wastes no time in flipping herself over and off him, scurrying into the position he specified, shaky from so many orgasms and the anticipation of him back atop her. Wincing inwardly at the thought of that package at this angle with how sore she already is-

-and he wastes no time. But instead of a cock she feels the shockingly familiar but never less exquisite feeling of his tongue running up the messy length of her slit. Her face collapses into the pillows along with her pleased shriek of “Bing!”.

He he laughs warm and wicked behind her, enjoying the ass up display of what he’s done to her.

“Spread ‘em Jean.” he tells her, and two dainty hands leave off from gripping the covers to bashfully pull her cheeks apart and show her husband where his fat cock belongs. He can see her pulsing down like a living entity of its own, even in this dim light.

“I'll be good... I'll be good for you, Major. Tell me what to do.” Jean swears hoarsely, those fawnish legs trembling again.

“Just take me.” he mutters simply, mounting her suddenly with his hand on the back of her head, keeping her cheek to the pillow and her scream muffled as he shoves in and begins to plow this squeaking little lady like tomorrow is indeed not promised to men like him.

Beneath him, between the high pitched squeals of pleasure and the urgent whines of endurance, Jean is muttering a litany of …something. Again and again she’s saying words like “it’s ok baby, it’s ok” and Harry isn’t sure if it’s meant for him or her, she sounds like a drunk fairy and his head begins to buzz with likelihood. “It’s ok baby, they told me you'd be like this, it’s ok. I can take it. I’ve missed you—“ she just keeps muttering that and vaguely Harry is pretty sure that comfort is meant for him and he wonders who ‘they’ are and what ‘like this’ even means.

On Jean’s part she is legitimately unsure who’s she’s trying to convince, likely herself but also, maybe that part of her between her legs that’s torn between panic and absolute ecstasy at his rough usage. Jean's mind spins at the realization of how much she likes it, likes the feral proof of how badly he missed her, needs her, wants her still. Her sweet and mild Harry climbed on top of her and is now railing her, and while it’s not your average little jaunt in the sheets, she clings to her pillow and takes it with something like pride…in between the moments when Harry’s fat cock wipes her mind a starry white as her legs kick up helplessly beneath him and her back arches and her hole clenches and another happy mess slides down her inner thighs to the sodden sheets.

And all through it the best of it is Harry and his voice, half sane sounding for once this evening as if to balance out the animalistic pose he has her in, groaning above her,

“That's it, be my good girl..my good, good girl. Always so good to me.”

He’s petting her hair like she’s a damn Labrador or something, wrapping her beautiful curls around his hand, arched over her like a cat, it’s perfect and he’s so deep he thinks he could fuck his balls in, foot placed sturdily on the bed beside her for further leverage.

“-Croz! You gotta!” His wife wails nonsensically beneath him, he picks her head up by the hair to hear what the hell she’s jabbering about now, husbandly rights or how she was ‘told’ he’d be.

She’s so cock wrecked it ain’t even funny but when he prods her with a “What's that Jean?” between thrusts he gets a slightly more formulated thought-

“You gotta put a baby in me!” she insists through sobs, orgasm after orgasm turning her into this shaking, shuddering, limp excuse of a woman.

A loverdoll, for real.

Her words ping in his head like that damn red light everywhere he goes on base. A light at the end of the tunnel, an eminent thing he’s needed for. Tightness seizes his belly and takes him unawares, suddenly Harry’s roaring out a resounding,

“Oh FUCK! Jean! Fuck-“ that bounces around the room like a cacophony.

The hotel guests next door might be

wondering why a moose is dying in

Manhattan? But no sweat, it’s just Major Crosby seeding his willing wife.

Like a soothing balm on a surgical wound, Jean feels him exploding warm and sticky and healing inside her at last. It doesn't stop coming, rope after rope of the thick, steaming hot gold of his body swelling her own and this adds the finishing touches to what was already a melted woman. In his last rapacious thrusts, she can feel her body playing the minx, trying to squeeze him out but her Croz is having none of it, like a dying man to water, he uses every bit of strength left to shove himself back in and flood her until she’s a collapsed and leaking mess.

In a haze, Croz pulls his now mercifully limp cock out of her and surveys her wrecked self with bleary, appreciative eyes. “Looks like you been through a war of your own, baby.” he jokes but his voice is so wrecked from his previous yells it startles his newly moderated self and he ends up toppled over beside her, no longer capable of giving a damn about anything.

His eyelids refuse to stay open and his neck is laying funny but -fuck! He was just inside Jean!

“You ok, Bing?” he hears her sweet voice whisper beside him and it was no dream then, and God forgive him he was probably mean. She’s panting beside him and when he can’t manage to answer he feels her hand grab his wrist and gently guide him somewhere until he’s petting startlingly warm petals that are saturated with his spunk.

“Think you managed to open me up, alright.” she titters, still sounding drunk and he can’t help the way his cheek crinkles in a returning smile.

Smashed into the pillow as it is, it’s still the prettiest expression of the best man Jean has ever known. “Y-Yeah.” her man croaks, half insensible but his beautiful hand keeps petting her where she’s sore and recently excavated, his identification bracelet jangling softly in the stillness, “You were such a good girl Jeanie..a good wife…ya did your job.” he mumbles more, fully in Major mode as he begins to drift off, forgetting entirely that maybe a fella shouldn't praise his wife like she's one of his men gotten back from a mission.

But Jean takes the compliment well, knowing how it’s meant, knowing that maybe tomorrow when he’s more conscious and healed, she may be blocked out from that world entirely. It’s a little glimpse and she takes it for what it is, with soft appreciation. Smilingly she lets go of his hand to give deflated Little Croz some pats, the sticky, shrunken thing is playing at being harmless and she has a longing to meanly suck on it until it shows it’s true colors again.

But no, for now, Croz’s heavy and nearly insessible arm throws itself over her waist and drags her to him, slotting the married couple together like spoons in their drawer.

They could try to shower but that seems too daunting a prospect at present, and highly futile considering what lies in store -more of the same. And for her part, Jean doesn’t dare move and slosh and waste any of what her Bing gave her. His forearm is heavy over her battered womb, cum and abuse swelling it just that little bit as if she were on her menses. She’s not, those were two weeks ago.

When his hand splays and cups the swollen bulge he made, Jean whispers to his already snoozing self, “We made a baby Bing, I just know it.”

And if not— there’s four more weeks to make certain.

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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#mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air #mota #harry crosby #anthony boyle #Harry crosby x Jean Crosby #Harry crosby fanfic #Harry crosby imagine #mota smut

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morgana-larkin · 24 days

Note

Hey! saw u asking for prompts. I REALLY LOVE ur fic 'worth it'!

Anyway, can you write a fic based on '' we get married in our heads'" "I miss you on a train" and 'I think about you' basically based on About You by The 1975. Maybe mel and r have met in Italy, when they're both in vacation. Became real close or something but never really did talk and pursue what was really going on between them because both are scared, then they part ways and never had contact with each other 'cause they thought it's better that way, until reader arrives at abbott as the new teacher not knowing she'll see the redhead again

Hey, thank you for the prompt! I’m glad you’re liking Worth It. I hope you like this, it has a lot of angst because apparently my brain deemed it necessary but a happy ending.

Don’t Let Me Go

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Sad Mel (yes this is a warning because I don’t like it when she’s upset)

Words: 3.6

Beautiful green eyes stare back at you in your mind. You just got back from Italy where you were teaching a child English during the summer and that’s where you also met her, Melissa Schemmenti. She was visiting some family members of hers during summer vacation for 2 months.

You still remember meeting her. You were sitting on the patio of a coffee shop reading an Italian- English dictionary so you can help teach the child better. She saw you sitting there and thought you were beautiful, sitting there, with some sunglasses on, a smile on your face and the sun hitting you, making it look like you’re glowing. She decided to walk up to you and start conversation.

“That book makes you stand out as a tourist.” She told you and you looked up at her and saw those eyes, those green eyes that you still think about in your mind.

“Well I think the book and the fact that I’ll look completely clueless if someone talks to me in Italian will make people know I’m a tourist.” You replied back to her and she laughed. A laugh that you think about constantly that you hear in your mind.

You and Melissa became friends after that, you went out to places together and she showed you the places that Italy had to offer. You learned that she was a teacher as well and that she lived in Philly. You both talked about everything and told each other all about yourselves. And in the 2 months of you two knowing each other, you both became attracted to each other, although neither of you mentioned it. And then when the time came for both of you to go back home, you both decided it was best to cut contact, since you won’t see each other again.

“Are you sure?” You asked her and she nodded.

“I had a great time with you these past 2 months but we’re not going to see each other again so why keep contact?” She said and you nodded. “It’s for the best.”

5 years later…

You recently just moved from New York to south Philly. You were on a train, just coming back from picking up the last of your things from your parents house in New York that you gave to them to keep for you. You were listening to music when you saw someone with red hair walk on and then you thought about her, the beautiful Italian woman you met 5 years ago during the summer. You still think about her of course, and wondering if you should have told her how you felt before you parted ways.

The next day you wake up, you’re starting your new job as Abbott Elementary’s new 3rd grade teacher. You walk into the entrance of the school and went to the main office to get your badge and classroom key. As soon as you walked you ran into someone. You went to go apologise to the person, but as soon as you looked at them you froze. It was her, the woman who still sometimes occupies your thoughts and dreams.

“Melissa?” You say to her quietly, in disbelief that she was right here in front of you. Melissa was just as shocked as you were, and then you looked into those green eyes that you only saw in your dreams now and they made you feel safe.

“Y/N?” She said back to you, just as quietly. “Wha-what are you doing here?” She asked you.

“I-I’m the new 3rd grade teacher.” You stuttered out. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a 2nd grade teacher here, have been for many years now.” She said.

Before either of you can say anything else you get interrupted. “Hey Melissa, can I talk to about the curriculum we got this year I have a couple of questions.” A younger teacher said to her. And then she saw you. “Oh hi, are you a new teacher here?” She asked you.

“Ya my name is Y/N Y/L/N, the new 3rd grade teacher.” You tell her and hold out a hand for her and she shook it.

“Oh how lovely to meet you! My name is Janine Teagues. I’m a second grade teacher here like Melissa here.” She told you.

You left Melissa and Janine to talk and you went to your classroom to set up before the kids get here in 30 minutes. You didn’t get the chance to do it the week prior as you were in the middle of moving and the principal said it’s fine and just emailed all the information that you needed to know.

You were putting up some fun posters with the help of a stool when she walked in without you realising it.

“Y/N?” She said. You didn’t know she was there so it took you by surprise and you fell off the stool face first. She caught you, of course, and when you realised she did, you opened your eyes and saw hers staring at you. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” She said and let go of you when you found your footing.

“It’s alright, you caught me so it’s fine, no harm done.” You told her and walked over to your desk to organise some papers. “Was there something you needed?” You asked her. You tried to seem calm on the outside instead of freaking out like you were on the inside. The truth is that you missed her. You missed her as a friend. You only knew each other for 2 months but you became really close and even knowing that you only had 2 months, feelings had to of course get in the way.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” She said and when you looked up at her, she looked hurt. Hurt about what? You don’t know. Melissa was trying to be neutral about this, you both thought it’d be better to cut contact before you parted 5 years ago. And in that 5 years, she never forgot you, and seeing you again, she realised how much she missed you. She remembered showing you around, walking and running around, hand in hand, smiling and laughing. She thought about finding you constantly, she could have asked one of her guys to find you and they would have, but that scared her. She became attracted to you in those 2 months and she never told you, she knew you’d never like her back the way that she likes you. She knew you were attracted to women, but she thought you’d never be attracted to her.

“Well considering that we said it would be better to not have contact with each other when we parted, then I can see why you thought that.” You said coldly and she was taken aback by that. The truth is that while you were excited to see her again, it was originally her idea to cut contact, and she convinced you that it was for the best. And now here she is talking to you after she so easily left you behind. “Look Melissa, I don’t know what you want but, we became friends in Italy but we haven’t spoken in 5 years because you thought that would be for the best.” You told her and she nodded looking guilty. “So I think it would be best if we continue that way.” You told her and it hurt to tell her that but you have to protect yourself against her. She hurt you 5 years ago and while you wanted to be her friend again like before, she might just hurt you again. You’re not going to take that chance again.

Melissa’s heart broke a bit at you telling her that. She missed you and wanted to see if she could reconnect with you again. But if you don’t want to then she can’t force you. “If that’s what you want.” She told you and you looked at her.

“I think it’s for the best.” You said simply. Repeating the same words she told you before you left to the airport, leaving your heart in pieces and regret for not telling her how you feel. And while your feelings for her never left, you’re still not going to tell her, you won’t give her any chance to hurt you again, to break your heart, once was already enough. At that Melissa nodded and left.

And it seems the universe hates you as Melissa’s room was across the hall. You took a deep breath and continued getting ready before you went to go meet your new students.

You walked outside as students were lining up as they found who’s going to be their teacher this year. Someone called you over and told you to stand where they are so they know where to bring students that were going to be in your class. The universe had it out for you as you were told to stand 4 feet away from Melissa. You both did your best not to look at each other but every few seconds, one of you did.

At one point the sun hit you the exact same way it did when she first met you and the way it hit you again when she took you on a picnic to a beautiful park she knew. She thought you looked beautiful in the sun dress you wore, how it fit your body perfectly and your hair glowing in the sun. After you finished your meal you both layed down on the blanket and looked at the clouds in the sky and just enjoyed each other’s presence. And at one point you took her hand in yours and she turned to look at you, only to find you looking back at her with a smile. And she just layed there, looking into your eyes with a smile, the sun hitting your face, making you look like you’re glowing, like an angel.

It broke her heart that you wanted nothing to do with her now but she understood, she had basically told you that on that very sad day, when you said goodbye to each other, thinking it was for forever. Melissa was used to cutting people off, but it still hurt her when she did. Since you decided that you want the both of you to ignore each other, then that’s what she’s going to do. But she couldn’t stop a smile from forming when you were greeting some of your students with a huge smile.

Unknown to Melissa, Barb happened to look over at Melissa looking at you. She saw her looking at you with a sad smile and longing in her eyes. Barb heard your name being called and that’s when she put 2 and 2 together. Melissa told her about the woman she met on her vacation in Italy 5 years ago whose name was Y/N Y/L/N. And now here she was, the new teacher at Abbott. And from the look Melissa was giving you, Barb thought that seeing you again didn’t go well, since it seemed you were ignoring her. Barb decided that she’ll talk to Melissa at lunch.

The morning went by and Melissa kept looking across the hall to your classroom. She saw how you were with the kids and it warmed her heart. She saw how gentle you were, how you talked to them with a smile, and paid complete attention to them when they talked to you. She felt like she made a mistake letting you go 5 years ago but she thought that you would go and live your life and leave her behind in the end if you kept contact.

Lunch came and like always, Barb met Melissa in her classroom before they went to the break room together. But this time when Barb walked in, she closed the door after making sure it was only her and Melissa in the room.

Melissa heard the door close and saw Barb standing there giving her a look. “What?”

“So am I correct in assuming that the new 3rd grade teacher is the same one you met in Italy 5 years ago?” Barb said, straight to the point. And the sigh and look she gave was all the answer she needed.

“Ya, the same one.” Melissa said defeated.

“And I’m also guessing that meeting her again didn’t go well.”

“She said she wanted nothing to do with me. And used the exact same words I said to her 5 years ago when she asked me if I was sure I wanted to cut contact with her. That it’s for the best.” Melissa sighed and put her elbows on the desk and her head in her hands.

“Melissa…” Barb started but was interrupted by the redhead.

“I missed her Barb, I knew I did but after seeing her again, I realised how much I missed her. Even after 5 years I never forgot her. How is it that we spent only 2 months together and I still think about her 5 years later?” Melissa said, and her voice cracked at the end. Barb could tell she was on the verge of crying.

“Even spending a short time with someone can leave an impact on you. It’s not always the amount of time together but the quality of the time you spend together.” Barb says and Melissa looks up at her , with red eyes. “Oh sweetheart.” Barb says and goes over and hugs her, and that’s when Melissa starts crying. Melissa never told her but Barb knew she developed feelings for the Italy girl. “Have you told her how you feel?” Barb asked after Melissa stopped crying.

“No. Why would I do that?” Melissa asks like the reason was obvious.

“Because maybe she feels the same and that’s why she’s avoiding you.” Barb says and Melissa freezes. She didn’t think about that. But as always Melissa declines it, deeming it impossible.

But the week goes by and Melissa can’t stop thinking about that. She thought about it more and more and the only thing she wanted was to be near you. But during the week, you did everything you could to avoid her. You never put anything in the fridge and you always come in with your own coffee so you never have to go in the break room in the morning. You avoid any possible eye contact when you’re both standing at the doorway, greeting your students. At lunchtime you eat in your classroom or in your car. At the end of the day you don’t look at her and you leave before Melissa does. And when you pass each other in the hall, you don’t even look her way. She sees you talking to other people though, you and Jacob seem to take a liking to each other as you guys have a lot of the same interests. She’s seen you talk to Barb at the beginning of the week but then you found out her and Barb were best friends so you haven’t talked to Barb since.

Before she knew it, one week goes by, then another, and another, and then it was Halloween morning and by some miracle, it was on a Friday this year. Melissa came in dressed as the scarlet witch and of course she saw you checking her out. You came dressed as Captain Marvel. Of course you both had to pick someone from the same universe. Melissa thought you looked amazing in the costume. It’s safe to say that while you were checking Melissa out, she was also checking you out.

And when hell broke loose and the teachers had to find baby thanos, you and her got paired together. While you were walking in the halls together, she kept looking at you. She wanted to talk to you and she had the perfect opportunity too, but she didn’t know how to start.

“Would you stop looking at me please.” You told her, well I guess you started it.

“Sorry, I want to talk to you though.” She said and you looked at her.

“That’s interesting, because 5 years ago you told me that we shouldn’t talk to each other again.” You countered.

“I made a mistake.” You looked at her a bit shocked. She certainly got your attention now. “I shouldn’t have suggested that we stop all contact. I regretted telling you that right away. I thought about looking for you, multiple times but I never did.”

“Why didn’t you? Why did you suggest cutting contact if you regretted it?” You asked her, and she dragged you into the nearest classroom and closed the door.

“Because I got scared Y/N. I got scared of how I felt about you. I didn’t just think of you as a friend, well I did at first but then I got feelings for you. And I knew that if we kept contact then eventually you’ll find someone else and live your life and leave me behind. I didn’t want you to hurt me when that happens so I decided that it would be best if we forget each other. But it backfired, because I never forgot you, I thought about you constantly.” Melissa said, and she got a bit choked up trying not to cry. “And then when we bumped into each other after 5 years, all I wanted was to reconnect with you and tell you how sorry I was for letting you go. But when I tried you wanted nothing to do with me and it broke my heart when you said that.” A tear fell down her cheek and her eyes were rimmed red.

You looked at her after her confession, whatever you thought she might have said that, that was not it. You didn’t know what to say, your brain processed everything she said. “You had feelings for me?” You said, and Melissa looked up into your eyes and saw that you looked hurt, the same look you had when you two said goodbye to each other.

“Have actually, I still have feelings for you, they never went away like I thought they would.” She confessed and you were shocked.

“I have feelings for you as well.” You confessed.

“You-you do?” She asked, not believing it to be true.

You nodded. “That’s why I thought it would be best if we stayed away from each other. It hurt when you told me that we shouldn’t speak to each other again. So when I saw you again, I was excited to see you again and then I remembered the pain from you leaving me behind so easily. I didn’t want to get hurt again. So I thought that I would spare myself the pain in the future and just not talk to you now. I regret not telling you how I felt then, but I thought you wouldn’t feel the same way because you’re…well… you know, you’re u. You’re so amazing and sweet and gorgeous, you could have anyone you want. You told her.

“Anyone except you, I could have anyone except the person I actually want.” She said with a tear rolling down her cheek. “If I told you 5 years ago how I felt then I could have had you, but I guess I missed my chance.”

“Who said that was your only chance?” You asked her and she looked at you confused. You walked up to her and wiped away the tear that’s rolling down her cheek. Her breath hitched when you did that, she wanted to get close to you again for almost 2 months now and to think it might happen, she just couldn’t think right now. She wants to respond, to make up for lost time, she doesn’t want to fuck it up and lose you again.

“Are you saying that you’re still willing to be with me?” She said and you nodded.

“I constantly thought about you as well, and you ended up in my dreams at night too. Almost like you were haunting me.” You joked and Melissa let out an airy chuckle. You touched your forehead with hers as you both basked in the happiness you felt of being near each other again.

“Y/N, I missed you so much, I regret ever letting you go.” You pulled back and cupped her cheeks.

“Then don’t let go now.” You told her and she wrapped her hands around your wrists while your hands were still cupping her cheeks.

“I won’t, I’m not going to make that mistake again.” And with that you leaned in and kissed her. She kissed you back almost immediately. You both felt safe , you felt at home. She moved her hands from your wrists and laid them on your waist. While you moved them from her cheeks to around her neck.

“Well it’s about time.” Barb said, smiling from the doorway, and you both backed away and looked at her. “I convinced everyone to pair you guys up so you would talk to each other and hopefully work it out, and looks like you do.” Barb said proudly and Melissa smiled.

“Thank you Barb.” Melissa said and then looked at you and pulled you to her and hugged you. She then pulled away and looked at your eyes. “I promise I won’t let you go.” She told you and you smiled at her.

And she said the same promise to you at the end of her vows on your wedding day.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @imaginesmultifandoms

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

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drawlody · 11 days

Text

My list of Adam ships♡ n my opinion bout them (also fics rec :D)

Adam x Luicfer (Adamsapple/Duitarduck) 10/10

Need i say more:)))??!?! started out as a "haha funny slip-up ship" to "hey they got really good angst potential". The friends/lovers to enemies to lovers is STRONG with this one n i am eating up everything i could found on ao3. Smth bout this macho-ass man finally getting to stay back n not take charge for once feel nice, also princess Adam supermacy wooooo. Whoever came up with the ship name i applaud u cause that's like a 3 layers name(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

It's not an Adamsapple fic without Adam having at least 1 mental breakdown n Lucifer have his guilt eating him alive:)))

Very fucked up torture but i swear it worth the pain:D The dove is so dead it start to rot so plz read the tags properly (plz check out the AngeliaDark other works too they got good shit)

This one have a splits so check out both the fics (beware the author have a skrewed sense of what is considered wholesome:))))

I didnt think a smut scene could be this sad

Adam x Lute (Guitarspear/Guardrock) 10/10

Litteraly my first Hazbin ship, assholes in love is an underrated dynamic we desperately need more off:))) That with a dash of evil dude x loyal subordinate (which i havent seen since the Deathglare days) n opposite attract (look they have one main thing in common is that their extreme bloodthirst, other than that she's stricter than ur mom n he's lazier than the Sloth ring itself but that the beauty of it no? He convince her to chill tf out n not to burst a blood vessel, she keep him on track n make sure Sera dont come on their asses)

They're just being silly enabling each other terrible behaviour n i love that for them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) Litteral besties i tell ya

Heavy non-con shit involving Val but Lute will revenge our boi i promised u that

Cool idea n they r just made for each other damn

First hazbin fic i read which is a really cool smut:D

Adam x Micheal (we need a ship name people ) (update: it's Songbird/Guitarhero) 10/10

I like how we dont even got a proper comfirmation of Micheal design/personality yet the ship is here already ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ( im using the Nakariiale's design as a base here love their design)

Hit me with that rebound love x "u look like my ex so im using u as a replacement but ill fall for the real u eventually" x co-workers in heaven. I'm thinking smth along the line of "after Lucifer fucked off with Lilith, Micheal became Adam guardian angel n they just hang out" ya feel me here? (✿◕‿◕✿)

Shout out to Bloog_b for dragging me into this ship:DDD also im on the Adam x the archangels ship as a "gotcha" to Lucifer of sort. Like bitch u stole my wives imma steal your brotherS

Look it's Adamsapple endgame but trust me u will be feed well on this ( u know how good u gotta be for people to ditch the main ship?)

I'm giving yall 4 fics here cause i can only found 4 rn(._. )

this one is uhh non-con so beware

Micheal is indeed Adam guardian angel in this one:D

Adam x Eve (Flowertunes) 8/10

I dont care what yall said they love each other throughout Eden n Earth , might have a falling out in heaven but that doesnt change the fact that they were once IN LOVE. Honestly why cant we just have a couple that have the same bright-eyed innocence like one another.I refuse to believe Eve like willingly cheat on Adam with malicious intent n all, simply she was indeed ''tricked'' or just not fully understand the sistuation, n Adam love her way too much to think that she would do that to him like Lilith. Hell the dude was heartbroken after L left , starting the abandonment issues, so he would have cling to Eve, doing everything so that he aint alone again, even if that mean leaving Eden

Honestly it pisses me off that the Adam/Eve tag on ao3 most of the time is just 1 dialouge between them back when Eve bit the apple n thats it no elaboration on the couple whatsoever >:(((

Lots of switcharoos

sinner eve woooo

look its hard trynna find a fic focusing on them ok?

Adam x St. Peter (Guitargreeter (bet ya didnt see that coming:))) 7/10

Base on this fanfic alone Joe my dude u r on the path of becoming THE Adam crack-ship writer n i am here for this:)))) just so u wait this dude gonna whip out a AdamxNifty , AdamxHusk fic later on ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

From within the fic itself the ship its 2 bros in love with homophobia standing in the way >:( also when did we have a name?!?!?!?

I just like Adam x anyone in heaven alright:D like bro famous n he got that ancient rizz, u telling mr he cant bag a hottie or 2-100+ hmm?

Adam x Alastor (Angelicradio) 8/10

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT ABOUT THEM THAT I SHIP I JUST DO φ(゜▽゜*)♪ i blame YOU honestly rn this ship is either Adam found Al after the fight n they make a deal or they're in heaven n they chillin this ship is confusing:D

They're angels on heaven

Adam gone back into eden n do shit differently

This is both Adam/Eve n Adam/Alastor kinda

Adam x Alastor x Lucifer (Angelicradioapple/ Charlie's dads (only me call them that lol)) 9/10

''Hey Charlie u know how u r sad that your mother left? Wellllllll i got you 2 new dads suprise:DDDD''

Look 3 miserable men who hate each other + hell's greatest dad + my love for Dadam = Messy ass old men yaoi :DDDD n it work perfectly with Alastor Asexuality too!!! Like Adam n Lucifer could fuck each other brains out before Al joining in for the cuddles lol

Chaos ensue

Not exactly a love triangle but a love corner but hey we barely got food here :D

I cant believe how hot this shit is lol

Adam x Eve x Lilith x Lucifer (Eden poly/ applecore?) 8/10

They could have been all married to each other(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ But as much as i go "OooOooo Poly yay'' i just cant vibe with EvexLucifer, like the cheating vibes is wayyyyyyyyy too much i just cant man . I mean with the interpetation that Lucifer came to Eden to hang out with the humans they all know eachother, they're a throuple yes but BUT when Eve came into the picture it was only with Adam n him only so the other 2 is ehhhh. Im fine with EvexLilith cause im seeing it happening later, not hidden from Adam while LuciferxEve got that deception going on .So uhhh in this ship they're more like bestie than lovers to me¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also AdamxLilith is an underrated pairing like everytime i saw this applecore thing going on these 2 r at most tolerate each other like cmonnnnn we already twist this to hell n back, why cant we make it so their arguement was a petty non-malicious one n they still cares for each other hmm???

They're one happy family

IDK what to tell u bittersweet reunion n loving family is the only typa fic u get with this ship

Not that im complaining i need this wholesomeness

Adam x Mammon (Adammon/Madam/Greedyguitar/ 1st chirstmas.... hasnt had an offical name yet) 10/10

They r litteraly same person different font idk what to tell u. More insults thrown around than Guitarspear but they're pretty similar. Adam is just " sinners suck ass but this dude is the worst in the best way". Also they're both big bois (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ , they love towering over others

I'm sorry but there r barely BARELY

any fics of them :(

The art side is more plentiful tho :D

Adam x Angel Dust (Holydust/guitardust) 5/10

THEY ARE BESTIES YOUR HONOUR n that the exact reason why i cant see them be together as a couple 100%, like the shit-talking bff vibes r wayyyy too strong XD Angel finally got someone who have the same vulgar humour as him n if Adam got married in hell Angel would 100% be his best bitch of honour (≧∀≦)ゞq(≧▽≦q)

They're best friends who have casual no-string attached sex that is ACTUALLY no-string attached:)))

I came to ship them due to those "What if they're co-workers under Val' scenarios ive been seeing on Tumblr

I got like 1 fic on ao3 i mean if u r looking for just platonic friendship between them then rest asure most Adam's redemption fics have that

I got 1 fic on tumblr

Adam x Charlie (Charadam/Guitarprincess) 5/10

U know this ship give me a pretty bad first impression since a good chunk of the fics r either heavy non-con shit or lean wayyyyy to much into the daddy kink, ya know how Charlie got suppose daddy issues n all that jazz?:))) yeah that... that

But after seeing the art side of this ship im chillin with them now, since the art r pretty wholesome, usually having them decked out in punk-rock clothings hanging out. It's a big "Fuck you" to Lucifer n i live for these mf argueing ╰(*°▽°*)╯

So uhhh stay away from the fics if ya want an actual functional couple instead of wtv messed up shit we got there:))) But here's a fic anyway, the only one where it feel bearable n actual trynna go into said messed up relationship i already warn you

We got cracks like Guitarmaid (AdamxNifty), Valadam (AdamxVal) which i dont have enough materials to decied, Classicalrock (AdamxSera) sound interesting but also havent found anything , Guitarhalo (AdamxEmily) is an unexpected find, find i deem them to be more familial than romantic so we'll see if there's a fic good enough to convince me

Edit:i forgot to add Blitzo like Mammon already there why did i forgot

Adam x Blitzo (i dont think anyone even ship this but me:)) 7/10

I cant find a single fic where they has anything more than a 1 nightstand n 1 interaction where they hit it off , i live off imagination alone (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) but like fr fr they would match so well, like their bloodlust n general jerkiness would make them the 3rd asshole x asshole ship on this list :DDDD

Tho as much as i wanna see them go further i feel like an on-n-off relationship/friends with benefits fit em more ya know ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰) If ya have any fic but the 2 here that have them interact lemme know cause a bitch need food :)

This is a lot of tag(._. )

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