#My dad did become a doctor

[wallabywannabe]

My dad's small-town hometown is like something out of a book. It's so stereotypical of small town America of the 60's that it doesn't seem real. And my family is inextricably intermeshed with it.

My grandfather was the Local Doctor. Everyone I meet who lives there was apparently delivered by him, and sometimes their family paid him in chickens instead of money. My grandmother was a...forceful...presence everywhere in every community group, of which there were plenty, to hear people tell it.

My dad was the only boy in a family of sisters. First job in elementary school was the paper boy, riding on his bike with his beagle trotting beside him. He worked for the same paper in high school as a photographer.

Despite being the first boy child after many "failed" attempts that were my aunts, my grandparents apparently didn't have enough ideas for boys names and his middle name is the town's name.

He met my mom, an interesting professional from the worldly city of Chicago, and moved away as soon as he could. Understandably, he felt the pressure of this small town environment with nothing but expectations of him to be a bit much, and left as soon as he could and never looked back.

From my perspective, this town was just the place we had to go to every thanksgiving with too many relatives to remember their names and cousins that were all older and intimidating. My grandfather was the grumpy old man who was the oldest person in the church choir by a few decades. (This was the only place we ever had to go to church as children.) My grandmother never made a lot of sense, although no one ever acknowledged her dementia.

One thing my dad did tell us about was all the community musicals he was in growing up. Perhaps the one not incredibly stereotypical part about his town, and clearly one part he enjoyed the most. Bath time and bedtime for me as a kid were full of hits from the most popular musicals of the 70s.

My aunt just sent me a picture from the local paper today. Print version, because she and everyone in the town still get the paper delivered to their door. It's the same paper my dad worked for. Although I don't think the delivery is done by a 9 year old on his bike anymore, it's still a thriving local paper, which is incredibly rare in 2022. They do a segment where they reprint articles from the archives, and this one is an advertisement for the upcoming production of Once Upon A Mattress, featuring a picture of my dad around age 15 as the Jester. (As if to highlight the passage of time and how my family and this town are forever linked, below the picture is an ad for the local pharmacy, "serving this town for generations" with a present day picture of my cousin, the pharmacist. That cousin's daughter is currently a teenager and a frequent star of that theater's productions as well.)

I don't have any pictures of my dad as a teen, so I wouldn't have recognized him if it wasn't captioned. I have many memories of my middle-aged balding father dancing around singing "Very Soft Shoes" from that play. It was one of his favorites.

The full-circle nostalgia is so on the nose it's just not believable. I feel like this should be a passage in a book that is analyzed by American literature students.

[andromedasummer]

yesterday was. a lot

[ms-demeanor]

Due to some stuff brought up in recent posts I believe it is time to once again extol the virtues of Ms-Demeanor's Patented Where Did I Put That Fucking Paper Organizational Binder.

Hello! I am a disorganized adult! This is the system by which I manage my important shit like pink slips for my car and medical records and tax information.

You're going to need:

A 3-Ring Binder

Transparent Sheet Protectors

Notebook dividers (optional but VERY useful)

A backpack (optional)

So the way this system works is you put the sheet protectors into the binder. You can either use the dividers to divide the binder into sections or you can label some of the sheet protectors to make different sections but what you are generally going to do is make sections of the binder labeled things like "taxes" or "vet" or "doctor" and put a few sheet protectors in each section.

Then all of your papers with important information get crammed in that folder. You don't organize them, you don't sort them by date, you don't alphabetize. You put things vaguely relating to taxes into the sheet protectors in the taxes section. You put things relating to cars in the cars section. You don't even attempt to make this readable - you're not using sheet protectors so that you can read each page and keep it legible, you're using sheet protectors because it's a cheap plastic bag that will sit nicely in a binder.

You CAN put stuff into the individual sheet protectors when you get it, but let's be realistic you probably WON'T do that, so just tuck individual papers into the front of the binder until you get to a critical mass of paperwork then take an hour to sit down and sort into categories and put it in the binder once every six months to three years (depending on how frequently you get paperwork). Sometimes these sections will outgrow their original allotted space - since my spouse had a transplant surgery the medical section has had to become its own folder - and that's okay. If you end up with multiple folders just keep them together (this is why the backpack is an option, and one I strongly recommend).

Because yeah, if my organization system relies on opening up a drawer and putting something where it belongs as soon as I get the paper, I will simply not be organized. It's not going to happen. But I can handle a messy stack of paper that sits in one place and grows until it is time to shove it into a binder. I can't organize things for thirty seconds a day every day but I can organize things for an hour once every year or so (maybe two hours every five years when I sort out stuff I don't need like copies of warranties for parts on a car I don't own anymore).

When my mom died she had about fifty pounds of paper files in her office that were neatly organized in a system that didn't make any sense to my dad, my sister, and I. I ended up sorting through those files for twenty hours, tossing out copies of paid invoices from ten years ago and student handbooks from my junior high school. I reduced one filing cabinet, two desk file drawers, and a foot-high stack to a six inch binder that I gave to my dad. My mom died five years ago; two months ago my dad asked me about a medical document and I was able to tell him to go look for it in the medical section of the binder. It was there, because ALL IMPORTANT SHIT GOES IN THE BINDER.

Where is my birth certificate? In the binder. Where is my tax return from 2017? In the binder. Where is the record of my dog's last rabies shot? In the binder. Where are the records for my life insurance? In the binder.

A lot of what people consider "being organized" breaks down to whether or not you can find the specific things that you're looking for. Does my binder look nice? Is it aesthetic? Does it have color-coded tabs and papers all laid out neatly? Absolutely fucking not. But if you ask me where to find a paper I know that I can do so within about five minutes of shuffling through the pile of letter-folded sheets that I pulled out of the appropriate section of the binder.

I've discussed the Where Did I Put that Fucking Paper Binder before, but now it is time to expand that concept to the Backpack of Important Shit.

You likely have Important Shit that does not fit in a binder. Some of my Important Shit that does not fit in a binder is stuff like jewelry and the spare key for my car. Other stuff - the reason I decided to bring this up at all - includes my backup hard drive and packaging (including product key codes) for pretty much all of the software that I own. This is also where I store printed out copies of the recovery codes for most of the online accounts that I have.

There's a lot of weird fiddly shit that we have to have that we might not access all that often. This is the kind of stuff that might end up in junk drawers or under sinks or in disused laptop bags or kicking around under a bunch of papers in a desk drawer.

It doesn't matter so much when that weird fiddly shit is a set of hex keys or a utility knife or a protractor or a copy of a student handbook but it DOES matter when it's something that you might need to put your hands on in a hurry. If your computer crashes, you're not going to want to track down the software in the back of a filing cabinet and the backup drive from somewhere in the bowels of your desk. If you lock your keys in your car you are not going to want to figure out if your spare is in a junk drawer or the old purse where you keep semi-important stuff or the tin on your desk that has buttons and pins and headphone covers. Just put it in the Backpack of Important Shit and when you need it you know where to look.

So anyway, if you are a person who is a minor disaster who has trouble finding important things when you need them please don't think that you have to get your life together and have a nice organized filing cabinet or clear plastic bins full of documents or a neatly divided storage closet where everything from board games to backup drives has its own neatly labeled place. Just assign ONE LOCATION for important shit and start putting the important shit there. It doesn't matter if you have a filing cabinet where you keep old copies of homework and printouts of online orders and family history records - you do not need to keep everything that is file-able in one place and depending on what level of catastrophe you are it might be detrimental to you if you try to do that. It doesn't matter if you have a jewelry box where you keep your collection of gauges and wrist cuffs; if you are going to stress out about where grandma's ring is when you're digging through your collection of cheap earrings and silver pendants then *do not keep grandma's ring or any other Important, Vital, Cannot Be Lost jewelry in with your day-to-day wear*.

I live someplace that has fires. My binder got upgraded to my Backpack of Important Shit when the fires were getting uncomfortably close to the house I was living in and I wanted to have one bag to grab if we had to get out fast. Once I did that, I never took the binder out of the backpack and the backpack has now made three moves with me and has meant that I've had my birth certificate handy when I needed it in the middle of a move between two states, I was able to provide a history of my cholesterol panel going back six years to a visiting nurse, and I was able to give the exact names and contact info of my spouse's previous surgeon to the hospital when I had unexpectedly moved to a new state with three bags and my work computer at the beginning of the pandemic.

Get yourself a backpack of important shit and a folder of where the fuck did i put that paper. It is so much easier to search a backpack for important shit than to go through an entire house and it is so much easier to flip through a binder than it is to dig through a filing cabinet.

Anyway good luck and happy adulting.

[seattlesellie]

dads best friend!abby scenario cause why the hell not.

cw: sexual themes mdni, age gap, abby’s a cocky but charming asshole, power dynamics-ish? : ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

— "Oh and honey? Doctor Anderson's coming over for dinner" Everything felt oppressively hot and everything felt impossibly tight. The food seared your tongue, humid steam rising from the vegetables on your plate causing your throat to constrict and your eyes to sting with tears. Your right hand was clenched in a tight fist, left hand gripping your fork like it might grow legs and run away if you let go of your grasp. Your tights were itching relentlessly, tank top strap kept sliding off of your shoulder and built itself a home down your arm. Your lipgloss felt too sticky and your palms too clammy, you felt agitated, uncomfortable and way too goddamn nervous.

You felt consumed.

You didn’t know why.

Sure, Doctor Anderson was attractive, with palms twice bigger than yours. She wore a tight fitted muscle tee that had you squinting then turning your head around fast enough to crack your neck, noticing a goddamn six pack poking through maroon fabric. And yeah, she had an intoxicating scent of pine and wood and a hint of pepper that made your eyes nearly roll back inside of your skull, voice silky smooth, thighs firm and muscular, eyes icy blue, a smile that made you melt and all that stupid jazz,

but none of these things were a good enough explanation to why you were feeling this way — dazed, stupid, all bothered.

She sat down on the dinner table’s leather chair in a manspread as if she owned the place, and her thighs bulked up even more, veins of her arms becoming more prominent. She always knew what to say, and when you cracked a joke about orthopedic surgeons she cheekily told you to “watch it” — which made you thickly gulp and sheepishly smile down to the floor like your idol from age thirteen just told you they want to marry you and have you forever.

You needed an ice bath, but she also wouldn’t stop goddamn looking at you, even when you made it clear that eye contact with the surgeon, your father’s best friend, was a task that you apparently couldn’t manage to complete.

Her look made you nervous, and when she narrowed her eyes you nearly choked on a carrot, and when your father asked you “What’s wrong, kid?” you couldn’t even answer because what was wrong — was that you had to cross your legs together cause of some aching down there, and what was wrong is that his best friend made you feel like you were losing your mind at 9pm with a fork glued to your palm.

So you lied.

“M’just... tired, I guess” you murmured, then fake yawned, then internally cringed at yourself for performing the worlds fakest goddamn yawn.

“Already?” he voiced, shifting his gaze towards a visibly amused Abby. “Quite the night owl, that one... usually”

"What can I say, dad, loooong day" answered you, with a syrupy voice she wanted to stick her fingers inside and lick.

Abby chuckled, then smirked at you even though the response wasn’t directed at her. Then, she looked over to your father who was gnawing on some overcooked steak.

“She’s a kid, needs to get her sleep”

You scoffed, which made doctor Anderson poke the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “What...?” she murmured cockily, cracking a toothy grin. Your tights felt tight again, glued to your hot flesh, then you realized why they fucking call them tights because dammit they really are tight.

“I'm not a kid, can, y’know... drink, and stuff. Plus... M'busy, with... College"

You sounded like a damn idiot. All Abby did was chuckle and tilt her head back slightly, leaning further back in her chair.

“T'aw, I know, What'ryou studying again? Fashion science?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. That bitch.

"Sorry I don't wanna go to medical school and spend seven years of my life sticking my hands down a corpse"

So you didn’t go to your room after that, caught up in a whirlwind of proving a point. You stayed stubbornly with your feet glued to the floor and listened to Abby and your father ramble and yap on about work shenanigans. Usually, you’d semi doze off at this point, go on your phone and occasionally throw a snarky remark, but this was different. She was different than any of his other friends. Abby was actually funny, she didn’t brag too much, and if she did it faded quick cause she really was that good.

Abby threw a reference to a book you thought no one else had read except for you. You timidly lifted your gaze and remarked, “Oh, i read that book, actually”

Abby smiled and flattened her hands on the wooden table. “Smart cookie, huh? Did you like it?”

You batted your eyelashes like a kitten seeking more strokes at the praise, not noticing that body language of yours.

But she did.

You talked about the book for a solid ten minutes. Your father was the one, surprisingly, to go on his phone and faux-snort when he felt excluded from the conversation ran by two intellectuals and a giant elephant who goes by the name of "Tension", in the middle of the room.

Abby made you laugh and she made you think and she listened to your anecdotes. It made you buzz with electricity, and it made you yearn for her attention.

it also made her long for yours.

Your father interrupted by showing Abby a picture from work. When her eyes lowered to his phone, she shot you a lingering gaze and a smirk. You, feeling a rush of heat to your cheeks, shyly looked away.

It was tight everywhere all over again.

So they talked more about work, Abby’s patients, their coworkers, Doctor Martha’s chicken pot pie, Doctor Johnson’s bizarre antics, the glass door no one bothered on calling to be fixed, blah blah blah, an endless stream of chatter.

And you listened, you listened with rapt attention, every ounce of your focus aimed at the prospect of another one-on-one conversation with Abby. Each time the older woman casted you with a quick glance, you flushed even harder. You waited, and waited and waited but your father was a blabber mouth, and you were oh so impatient,

you began mindlessly kicking the wooden table's legs.

Your sock-covered feet shifted restlessly from side to side, then you tucked them beneath your chair and resumed kicking, the movements gaining force. You curled your toes and continued to play with the table's handles. Abby winced, but you didn’t pay her any mind. You kicked again, with more force now.

You sighed.

Abby cleared her throat, and her cheeks suddenly bore a faint crimson blush. You couldn't help but notice, hm, must be the red wine finally catching on to her form. Ignoring, you kicked again, and the doctors back straightened and she stiffened in response. Your father asked her a question, and Abby… stammered.

“Yeah, that guys… uh— yeah”

You rested your chin on your hands and lightly tapped your fingertips against your cheeks thrice.

Then you kicked again, harder, you were bored and restless, waiting, give me some attention, Abby —

And then, you felt a pair of shoes encase your feet, ankles creating a cage around yours. It was then and only then that you had the startling realization: you hadn't been kicking the table at all. Instead, you had been unknowingly engaged in a game of footsies beneath the table with a goddamn world class surgeon.

And oh god did you want to die.

And oh god did abby sport a shit eating grin on her face that only you seemed to catch.

You froze, not even able to release your feet from her iron like grip. Unmistakably, she didn’t seem to release her grip either. So she kept them there, caged and locked.

“Alright,” your father sighed and cleared his throat. “Got some cuban cigars in the yard, shall we?” he gestured towards Abby, who was still holding your feet in her tight grasp.

“Yeah, go ‘head, I’ll just clear the table” she murmured absentmindedly. So kind and polite, huh?

You father chuckled and tapped abby on her shoulder, as he rose from his sit and straightened his back. “Nah, let the kid handle it”

Abby shot you a glance. Your pupils were dilated and your chest heaved rapidly up and down.

“She's not a kid, remember?”

Abby let go of your feet and you rose from the chair with such haste, you nearly had whiplash. When you lifted your plate, staying mute, looking like a deer caught in headlights as your father paced towards the yard, Abby gazed at you, and her eyebrow arched up in utter amusement.

“You uh, play soccer, by any chance?” quipped her, crossing her arms on her firm hard muscly chest.

You gulped.

“Huh?”

Abby lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip that left a glistening sheen on her bottom lip. A chuckle escaped her.

“Jus’, y’know… with all the kicking, and everything. I mean, take a girl out for a drink before you do all that, yeah?”

You stood in shock, you didn’t speak, didn’t mutter a word, merely humming in response. Abby grabbed the plates from your hand, and then she grabbed the salt.

She furrowed her eyebrows and huffed. “M'just ’joking, smart cookie. If you wanna play, let's play"

Then you heard your father’s voice down the hall.

“Sweetheart?” he paced closer as Abby walked towards the sink. He leaned over the wall,

“forgot to mention it to you but, Abby’s staying over for the weekend”

[starkwlkr]

fever dream | sebastian vettel

part 2 part 3

warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)

update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!

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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”

but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.

“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.

“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.

“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.

“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”

“alison!”

the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.

“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.

“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”

“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.

“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.

“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.

“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”

or a mother.

only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.

you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.

“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”

you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.

“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.

“hello?”

[norrisleclercf1]

It’s Too Early

Pairing: Charles x Pregnant!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Tough pregnancy, premature birth, PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), IVF mentioned, angst, fluff at the end

Synopsis: Being pregnant hasn’t been easy, especially when Charles is away for the season and can’t be with you 24/7 like he wants to be. So what happens when he finds out you went into labor from a reporter? Chaos, utter chaos

A/N: Wrote this morning and I picked PCOS because that's something I suffer with all the time, and felt the need to write a fic about now, everyone's experience with PCOS and the topics discussed in this are different, I did research and put my own hardships and feelings in this, I hope everyone reads with an open mind and enjoys this but also Dad!Charles who could give up Dad!Charles

Charles would kill for you; he really would. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to kill the FIA, who would refuse to let him sit out this season to be with you, his pregnant wife.

Finding out you were pregnant was the happiest day of his life, but soon it turned...not a nightmare, but a living hell. You were classified as a high-risk pregnancy due to polycystic ovarian syndrome, something you let Charles know when you first started dating.

He was there through the painful periods, the cramps that left you defenseless and laying in bed all day, to the doctor visits and the mood swings. Through it all, he was still with you and loved you more and more each day.

When you both married and settled down a bit more, the conversation of becoming pregnant came up. Charles knew the risks and had done research before bringing it up with you; he even explored other ways of having children. But you told him you wanted to try naturally and go from there before discussing different ways and seeing what happens.

After 3 years of trying and doing everything, even trying IVF, that damn stick showed that fucking plus sign. You sat in the bathroom for hours just staring at the positive test, and that's precisely how Charles found you when he came home. On the bathroom floor, staring at the test.

He can still feel the tile on his skin as he hugs and kisses you, calming your fears away from the worst thoughts in your head.

It hasn't been an easy pregnancy, from cramps to horrible morning sickness, to the doctors worried you might give birth way too early, even being put on bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy due to worries of preeclampsia. Charles fought hard with the FIA, saying he needed to be with you, but they refused to listen and told him he needed to race. You talked him off the ledge as he called to quit and stay home.

"Charles stop; this is ridiculous. You love racing; you aren't quitting because of me." You groaned, going in circles with your mess of a husband.

"No! What's ridiculous is that the FIA won't even see why my wife has a high-risk pregnancy and that I'm needed home, not driving in goddamn circles!" He snaps, slamming his phone down and pulling his hair.

"Char, breath." You whisper from the bed, in agony, simply because you can't get up and comfort your husband.

Charles, almost sensing your dilemma moves from the end of the bed to laying down next to you, placing his head on your chest, careful of your swollen breasts, knowing how much they've been hurting lately. No words are said as fingers run through his hair to calm him down and stop him from making a huge mistake.

"Charles, I'll have your mother here with me. Me and the baby are going to be okay. Listen, if anything changes, I will call you immediately. You can't miss this; you have a real chance this year and must show the world that Charles Leclerc will be a World Champion." Your words convince him as he lets off that familiar defeated sigh of his, making your smile grow at this.

"Immediately. Do you understand? I don't care if it's stupid like your back itches you call me." He bargains, making you laugh and nod in agreement.

Pascale has been staying with you for only a month, and you finally reached the safe zone, where if you did go into labor, it wouldn't be so dangerous for you or the baby. It was race day, and Charles was in Silverstone, needing to finish P2 or higher to challenge Max for the title.

It was a typical day as Pascale fixed you a light snack as you weren't feeling well, your lower back was hurting, and it felt like your pelvis had its own heartbeat. You didn't think much of it as it was a hot day in Monte Carlo, and you had read in books that it was customary to feel this, so you didn't say anything to Pascale to not worry her. The race was halfway through when the first real cramp startled you to the point you dropped your cup; thankfully, it was rubber, so it didn't break.

"Y/n? Honey, what's wrong?" Pascale was right there in an instant picking up the cup, looking over you.

"Just...a cramp, it's nothing." You mummer rubbing your stomach but flinch from how much it hurts to touch it.

"Y/n, when did this start?" Pascale asks calmly, knowing it was wise to keep you calm and not start to freak out because you might be in early labor.

"Last night, but it's picked up this morning. It's nothing, Pascale, honestly, just the baby moving." You try to reason, not wanting to jump straight to labor.

"Y/n, I'm calling for an ambulance, okay? I think you might be in early labor, and with you being on bed rest, they need to help me, alright." She mummers pushing your hair back, trying everything to keep you calm.

"Okay, okay." You repeat as the cramp passes, and you hear her on the phone telling them everything as you force yourself to pay attention to the race and not to the growing pit in your stomach that you might be in labor.

They get here fast as you breathe through another cramp. Tears start to flutter down your cheeks, the realization of you possibly in labor while Charles isn't here, but in the UK. They ask you question after question and share a look, a look that sets you off.

"No! No! I'm not in labor, okay? I'm just having some cramps, which is normal; I have PCOS; okay, nope, I'm not." You argue as the medics alert the hospital to your condition.

"Mrs. Leclerc, I understand that you are only 29 weeks and you're scared, but right now, you are in early labor, and we need to get you to the hospital as soon as we can, okay?" The friendly medic tries to reason with you, but you refuse to see reason.

"I'm sorry, but no. Charles isn't here; he should be here; I can't do this alone. I'm sorry, but I'm not going anywhere." You argue as Pascale packs your bags and looks over at you.

"Y/n, I know you are scared, but Charles isn't here right now, but he will be okay. I'll call him when the race is over and let him know immediately what's going on. But, please, if you wait, it'll be worse for you and the baby." She can reason with you, finally getting you to the hospital as you try hard to stay calm and not make things worse.

But of course, Pascale could never make the phone call as everyone was too busy keeping you calm.

Charles was on top of the world. He had won Silverstone and was only 4 points behind Max now. Sticky with champagne, he checks his phone, looking for the standard text from you, but not seeing a text from you, he hits dial, calling you. But, you don't pick up, making him call you again, yet again, you don't pick up.

He reasons you must be asleep, knowing you had been super tired lately, and his mother said everything was fine. You're eating normally and just sleeping or reading. He moves and takes a picture of the trophy, telling you he won it for you and the baby and he couldn't wait to get back home to you both. Sadly, he's pulled away from his phone to go do media even though he wants to head to the airport and go home, but he needs to do this first.

Only 4 more hours before heading to the plane, then another 5 to 6 hours before he's back home to you.

He makes it through all 5 interviews before coming to the last one, Pierre on his right and Carlos on his left as they all give their final interviews.

"Charles, amazing race. I have to say that it was fabulous to see you win this and to have your teammate and your childhood best friend up there. It must've been something." The reporter gushes, making Charles smile at how genuine the reporter is.

"Yes, um, having Carlos and Pierre be there next to me was something. I mean, the Red Bulls put up one hell of a fight, but we know not to get too comfortable and that we really need to start pushing it more and more each day so we can close the gap and pull in front of them." Charles smiles.

"Yes, this must be a wonderful day with you; with what winning Silverstone and your wife going into labor, you must be just on top of the world." Charles freezes, hearing the words come out of the reporter's mouth and let's put a nervous laugh.

"I'm sorry? My wife isn't in labor," he argues, starting to fidget and lick his lips.

''Really? Reports are that she went into labor at the start of lap 23 and has been at the hospital, your mother." Having cut the camera, realizing that Charles honestly had no idea.

"Nope, she's not, okay, she's not in labor. She would've called." he snaps, hands fumbling for his phone, trying to call you again. This time, it goes to voicemail, sending his heart plummeting to his feet.

"Alright, that's enough for today." Pierre voices and grabs Charles leading him away from prying eyes as he keeps calling you repeatedly.

"Charles. Charles, stop!" Pierre yells, snatching the phone away as his friend cries. Fear takes over Charles as he starts to imagine the worst. What if something was seriously wrong, and you went into early labor. You're only 29 weeks. That's 6 months. Yes, the baby would be okay, but would you?

"Come on, let's go to the hotel. Get your stuff, and you and I will fly out and call your mom. Okay, let's go." Pierre reasons, dragging his friend away and to the cars trying to calm down Charles.

'Pierre calls Pascale and puts her on the speaker; thankfully, the woman picks up after 3 rings.

"Why the fuck didn't you call me the moment she went into labor? I wouldn't give a damn if I was still in the car. Why didn't you call!" Charles rips out before Pascale can say anything, and Pierre groans, knowing that if the situation was different, the Ferrari driver's mother would bury his ass in the ground.

"Because Charles, I've been trying to keep her calm. She's freaking out because you're not here, and honestly, honey, I forgot, as I was trying to make sure your wife's blood pressure doesn't get worse; now, get here as fast as you can because she's almost fully dilated and she needs you Charles, and she needs you to be calm and strong for her because right now she's not." Pascale hangs up, leaving the car in a stiff eerie silence.

"Get me to the airport as fast as you can," Charles whispers, making Pierre nod to ensure he'd get there.

"I can't do this, Pascale; nope, I'm sorry, but I can't. It hurts too much, please, make it stop." you cry as your mother-in-law soothes you. She tells you Charles is on the way. But that did nothing to comfort you. It only made you more anxious about the fact that this would happen.

"Y/n, I know you're scared but Charles will be here soon, okay? But you can't stop pushing, okay? All these nurses and doctors are here to help you, ow let them." She urges as you scream out from another contraction.

"I want Charles." You sob, collapsing against the bed from exhaustion. This was too much for you, the pain, Charles, and everyone in the room; you can't do this.

"Baby!" A familiar voice cries out as the door swings open, and Charles runs in. His hair is messy, and he looks so bewildered you could kiss him, but all you can do is scream.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Making Pascale and everyone else jump, Charles just smiles and pushes everyone out of the way to get to your side.

"I'm sorry, I was on a plane, and my phone wasn't working." And lies, not wanting to tell the truth of no one telling him but a reporter that you were in labor.

"You're lucky I'm giving birth right now or so; help me go-" Your words get cut off by another contraction, making you grab Charles's hand and squeeze it so hard he'd thought it'd break.

"Okay, Mrs. Leclerc, we need you to push." the doctor instructs while Pascale slips outside, startled to see half the grid in the hallway.

"Come on, let's give them some privacy." Pascale smiles, wrapping an arm around Pierre as she leads the boys down the hallway.

"I love you," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead, not caring for a minute you are drenched in sweat.

"I love you too, but we're adopting or surrogacy next time." You cry as you get one more contraction, everyone yelling at you to push, and soon your cries are mixed in with smaller ones.

"He's here. He's here." Charles repeats, kissing you all over and making sure you are okay. He wanted to check on his baby, but first, he needed to ensure you were alright.

"It's a boy? We had a little boy." You whimper, leaning into Charles's chest as you cry in relief that everything went as smoothly as possible.

"He's perfect, Y/n, all ten toes and fingers, and god, I love you so much." Charles mummers finally kissing you while the nurse cleans up your son.

"Here you go." the nurse smiles, handing you your son, who cries his little lungs out but soon stops when he's placed on your chest.

"He'll need to go to NICU for just a night so we can go over everything and make sure there are no complications, but after that, he can come down here and stay with you, Momma." the nurse smiles, going back to help make sure your vitals and everything else was good.

'Charles, and you can't help but stare at your little boy while you start to feel that ache and tiredness settle in, but Charles holds you both, his entire world in his arms.

"We need a name," Charles whispers, making you hum in agreement.

"I've got the perfect one. Also, tell Pierre I say thank you for getting you here."

Charles blinks down at you, confused, but you just giggle.

"I can smell his cologne." Making Charles laugh right along with you.

You fell asleep after picking the name, and the nurses follow Charles to the waiting room where everyone is, Pascale the first to see her son.

"Everyone," Charles starts making the others turn their heads, Isa and Carmen gushing at the tiny little baby in Charles's arms.

"Meet Pierre Hervé Jules Leclerc." Charles announces, making everyone laugh as Pierre stands there stunned, looking at his best friend holding his son.

"Really?" Pierre asks, making Charles nod. "Of course, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten here in one piece. Also, Y/n says thank you." Charles smiles but adds, "she could smell your cologne on my clothes." Making everyone laugh at this.

"Can I hold him?" Pascale asks, but Charles shakes his head no.

"Sorry, but he won't be held by anyone but us and the staff for right now; he's got to go to the NICU overnight, and frankly, I want Y/n to get a say who holds him first after us, Mother." Charles smiles, but Pascale just beams, seeing Charles transform before her.

"Say goodbye to all your uncles and aunts, Pierre," Charles whispers, laying him in the trolly as the nurse reassures him that he'll be fine and he can come up and visit if he'd like.

Everyone watches as the Ferrari driver just smiles at his boy and leans down, whispering something to the baby before pulling away and watching the nurses take him a floor up.

"What did you say?" Pierre asks his friend.

"We'd always love and protect him, and he's only allowed to root for Ferrari." He laughs, making Pascale slap her son on the arm, everyone joining in on the laughter, a memory no one would forget.

[bellasprettywords]

So High School (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: It’s me, hi, so I’m kind of back, although I’ve decided to expand my horizons and also write for Doctor Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds; either way, I hope you like this little writing🤭💕

This one shot is inspired by So High School by Taylor Swift from The Tortured Poets Department, which is my current obsession, so if you are swifties, I hope you guys catch the references 🫶🏼

This is season 2 Spencer, cause I just really dig the shy-sweet vibe

This is not proofread, as it’s 2 am, but I couldn't stop

y/n – your name

Warnings: Friends to lovers (kindish), mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2,409

My Masterlist

Working at the BAU wasn’t easy, but every now, and then you’d have days when all you had pending was paperwork, and you’d catch a break. Like right now, sure, you still had a couple of reports to get through, but overall the mood seemed relaxed, even if you’d been working nonstop for the last 24 hours.

You were typing your reports and sporadically, you’d catch a glance of Spencer Reid’s concentrated face, whose desk was in front of you. Sure, you were work friends, but deep down you knew you had a small crush on the twenty-five-year-old Doctor. Your thoughts were starting to fly away, thinking about Spencer's hair, framing his delicate features, his big eyes, which seemed to move frantically over the computer screen, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was invested into his work, and the way his brows were crunching, making small wrinkles in his forehead; when suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted.

“You know what we should do? We should play kiss, marry, kill” Penelope suggested way too loudly coming into the bullpen with a huge grin and walking frantically to your desk.

“What are you even saying?” exclaimed Emily, standing from her chair and approaching your desk

“We still have to finish our reports” said Spencer, who seemed to be glued ho his computer, taping frenetically

“Did I just hear kiss, marry, kill?” Morgan approached your desk and one by one, the gang was coming all together

“Okay, first round, y/n, kiss, marry, kill with Gideon, Hotch and Rossi?” Penelope asked a little too excited for the question

“Come on, I’m not answering that” you said chuckling at the thought of even giving a response

“Comeeeeeee ooooooon” this time Morgan insisted and the absurdity of the question made you laugh so hard, Spencer looked up from his computer

“Fine, kiss Rossi, marry Hotch and kill Gideon, because he has way too much dad energy to kiss or marry him” you said, and your friends burst out laughing

“We are way too sleep-deprived to be here” Emily said chuckling, “Also, I’m starving”

“I have a frozen pizza at home I just can’t wait to devour” you said and suddenly your friend's eyes seemed to sparkle

“Now that I know that, I’m totally going home with you” Penelope said clinging to your arm

“I’m tagging along as well” Emily added clinging into your other arm

“They say three is a multitude, so I’m coming, just to keep you guys in check” Morgan exclaimed, and you couldn’t wait for Spencer to add himself into your plans, but unfortunately, the young doctor was back into his working frenezzy.

“Como on Spence, we are going home” you said hoping he’d tag along to your improvised plan, even if you were almost certain he’d say no, considering he didn’t really talk to you other than work related business; and rarely info dumped on you, which made you a little sad, considering his info dumps were one of the things that you most liked about him.

“Excuse me?” Spencer said crunching his eyebrows and staring over his screen monitor into your eyes

“We… we are all coming to my house to eat pizza, I was… I was wondering if you’d like to come” you stuttered and felt your cheeks become red. Anytime, you’d try to talk to Spencer about anything other than work, words would trip out of your mouth incomprehensibly, your cheeks would flush in a bright shade of red, and you were pretty sure anyone with a brain knew about your crush, specially considering you’d act like a high schooler in love around him.

“Come on man, we can even trow some poker to sweetener the deal for you” Morgan added

“Also, y/n told me that she has the new Grand Theft Auto, so we could play for a while” Penelope tried convincing Spencer appealing to his love for video games, and if it wasn’t obvious before, well, it was obvious now that you were eager to have the boy-genius at your place

“Alright, let me just grab my bag” Spencer said calmly, almost… oblivious to the fact that your friends were playing smooth wingman and wing-woman

“Penny and I are driving together, and Derek is taking his bike, so Reid, you can drive with y/n” Emily said and for a second, you couldn't believe how shamelessly uncool your friends were being about the whole situation

“If it’s alright with you, I’d appreciate riding with you” Spencer told you a little… flustered? No way, you were the one fangirling over him, maybe he was just getting secondhand embarrassment for the whole situation and your friend’s pathetic attempts to get you together.

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The ride home was quite nice, Spencer seemed to loosen up when he got the chance to share statistics on pizza consuming habits in the U.S. and somehow, he managed to incorporate the history of pizza:

“So, a precursor of pizza was probably the focaccia, a flatbread known to the Romans as panis focacius, to which toppings were then added. Modern pizza evolved from similar flatbread dishes in Naples, Italy, between the 16th and mid-18th century” Spencer kept explaining, while you took the chance to steal a couple of glances, even if it was a driving hazard “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are bored with my nonstop chatter” the young Doctor added shyly

“No way, I really enjoy your facts and stories” you said, and a shy smile formed into his lips, so you took a leap of faith, hoping with all your heart he wouldn't be uncomfortable with what you were about to say “I love the way your mind works, I find it amazing how you can just know so much, you know?”

“Thank you, it is called an eidetic memory, most people think it’s weird” Spencer said looking down to his hands, that were lying over his lap.

OH MY GO, WAS DOCTOR SPENCER REID BLUSHING? You were trying your best to hide your excitement, and luckily you were saved by the bell, as without realizing it, you were already parking in front of your apartment building

“So this is me, home sweet home” you said turning off the engine of your car and Spencer gave you a side smile that made your stomach flutter

“Thanks for the drive, and you know, for having me” he said, and you were high on his words; everything about him seemed to fascinate you, but before your mind could go wild, Morgan tapped your car window to let you know he was there, and after a couple of minutes, Penelope and Emily were outside as well

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“I’ll put the pizza in the oven, so maybe we can play a round of poker while we wait?” you suggested as your friends took a seat at the table, and you handed them a beer each.

“That’s what I’m talking about” Morgan said, already shuffling the deck of cards. The game was fun, although Spencer won each and every round. The night was everything you could ask for, Spencer seemed comfortable at your apartment, and he even got around to joking and laughing out loud.

“Truth or dare?” Morgan said spinning his empty beer bottle with mischief in his eyes, and laughs started bursting, until it landed on Emily

“Truth” she said glancing at Morgan with amusement

“Have you even come into work tipsy?” Morgan asked

“Alright, yeah, once when we were working with the Newport Police” she replied calmly “Now, have anything stronger?” Emily asked, lifting her beer bottle

“As a matter of fact, I do” you said standing from your chair and bringing different alcohol bottles, you had a wide selection of whiskey, wine, rum, tequila, and vodka

“What are you? A bartender?” Penelope asked, surprised by the alcohol selection.

“I tried, I even got a book, but between life and work I never got around to reading it” you added pouring your friends a couple of drinks.

Emily spun the bottle, and it landed on Spencer, who gulped a little too loudly, and you couldn’t keep your eyes from his Adam’s apple “Truth or dare, boy-genius?” she asked taking you off from your thought

“I… mm… truth?” he said almost too afraid of what your friends could think about asking him

“Alright, what do you think about y/n?” Emily asked bluntly, and you could see Spencer’s cheeks turning red. Sure, you loved your friends, but their mingling was getting way too obvious for your mental health

“I… I think she’s great, I mean, of course she is incredibly smart, she’s sweet, funny, and she has a special way to always makes you feel heard and taking into consideration. It is undeniably that she’s pretty, I mean, and… yeah that's what I think” Spencer said staring into your eyes, and you couldn't believe it, you literally were wonderstruck.

Did he like you? Did he just admit you were pretty? You were literally on cloud nine when you realized Spencer had spun the bottle, and this time it was facing you

“What’s… What’s your favorite movie?” Spencer asked shyly, and all eyes turned to him

“Come on man, that was your shot” Morgan said leaning into Spencer

“That changes, but right now I’d say American Pie” you said trying not to sound too embarrassed. Secrets were spilled, confessions were made, and shots were taken, until Penelope spun the bottle and once more, it landed on Spencer

“Truth or dare, lover-boy?” Penelope asked a little too excited, which once more made Spencer a little nervous, considering the situation, and of course, the fact that he pretty much just admitted having a crush on you

“Dare?” Spencer said, almost asking

“Uuuh I got a great one, read y/n’s bartender book, and then prepare us some fire ass drinks” she said almost euphoric

“Oh, okay, sure, I can do that” Spencer said released a breath he didn't realize he was holding “y/n, would you mind lending me the book? So I can read it, please?” he asked shyly, and you knew this was your chance to make a move

“Of course, although I’m not sure where it is, so… maybe you can help me find it?” you asked hoping he caught the subtext

“Yes, yes I can help you look” he said, and a little grin formed into his lips

“What about playing the Grand Theft Auto whille they go lok for the book?” Morgan asked smootly, giving you just what you needed, a chance to slip to the side with Spencer

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You were now in your room, with the guy that made your stomach flutter, and once again, you coultn shake away the feeling of being a sixteen year old girl approaching her crush for the first time. Okay, so until now you knew there was a chance he actually liked you, so for the first time, you tried to flirt smootly

“So, the book must me somewhere on this wall” you told Spencer pointing at the wall-tall-bookshelf that adorned your room

“That is an impressive collection” Reid said admiring your books

“Thank you, I like… reading, and of course, books” you mumbled and between the nerves of having him in your room, and the fact that he was aproaching you, starring directly at your eyes, your braing wasn’t braining it. This defenetly wasn’t considered smooth, or flirty

“Truth or dare?” Spencer said coming closer to you

“Truth” you responded almost instantly

“Why is American Pie your favorite movie?” he asked, and the question genualy threw you off

“I know most people think it’s a really stupid movie, but even in those crazy scenarios, the guys get to laugh, and learn about life, sure, it’s twisted, and watching to too your can defenetly cause issues, but I think it’s a great piece of cinematography”

“That’s impressive, altough I can’t judge, as I’ve never got arroud to watch it” Spencer said, moving a little, and turning back to your book collection

“Truth or dare, Doctor Reid?” you asked playfully

“Truth” he said chuckling, and once again, you confirmed his little laughs sent a dopamine charge into your brain that was almost adictive

“What’s your favorite thing from my collection?” you asked, moving your hand motioning your bookshelf

“While you have an impressive Aristotle collection, which I’m a big fan of, right now my favorite thing in this room is not exactly a thing, but a person” he said once again leaning into you, “Truth or dare, miss y/n?” he asked coming even closer to your face

“Truth” you asked playing it safe, as he had suddenly turned into Doctor Smooth Reid, and seeing him take charge, was a side of him, one that you were totally enjoying

“What are you thinking about right now?” he said, leaning a little closer to you

“Actually, all I can think about right now is kissing you” you admited, bitting you lower lip, but not giving him time to answer, you asked “Truth or dare?”

“Dare” Spencer said, with his eyes lingering from your eyes, to your lips and viceversa

“I dare you to kiss me” you said, and as you finished yout sentence, his hand was cupping your cheeck, his other hand was placed on your waste, and his lips were softly crashing into yours. The kiss was soft, and sweet, with a couple of bites in between. One kiss, then another one, and swiftly, Spencer made you turn, placing your back towards your bookshelf and getting closer to you, just like you, he longed for this moment, for your kiss, for your touch. You were enjoyoing yourselves way too much, when you heard a knock on your door, which made the two of you burst out laughing

“We should go back to them” Spencer said, placing a las kiss into your lips

“Maybe next Saturday you can come over, I mean, you can’t go though life without the rite of passage of watching American Pie” you said chuckling, hoping with all your flustered heard he’s say yes

“That would me wonderful, I can’t keep living like this, without watching American Pie, I mean” he said lacing his fingers with yours, and opening the door for you, so the two of you could go back to your friends, who were also laughing from the living room, as they were sure their mission of getting you together had been succesful.

Part 2

I really hope you liked it, let me know if you want part 2, as I'm pondering the idea of the American Pie date.

Kay, love you, bye 🩷

[ave661]

Hiiiiiii 👋😙

With all the lovely dad!Ghost renders you graced us with, can i ask if you have any headcanons for them? Can never get enough of Ghost having a family he never got to have as a kid. I just wanna hug him frfr okay I'm done babbling 😭🫶🫶🤍

Helloooo! ♥ Ok, so this is interesting ask! Some of my renders are random, but some have a story

Simon forgot to take off his balaclava. Child saw it on him and by the time he realized, it was already too late. He expected baby to cry, be afraid of him and not recognize their dad, but when they didn't and even got interested, he got emotional. Maybe he realized that Ghost wasn't just a soldier and even he became a father - not just Simon.

He wanted to introduce his baby to "Ghost". Wants little one not to be afraid of him and to know what their father does for a living

I imagine him as a dad who likes to chill with his kid in living room. Maybe he turns something on TV and waits for them to fall asleep, and when they do, he closes his eyes for a moment and eventually they both end up snoring

Riley's first introduction to his baby. Simon was afraid of dog's reaction, but baby wanted to give Riley a toy. They definitely liked each other and became friends.

These are either before or after mission - last hug or a warm hello. Maybe his partner wanted to surprise him and came to the base with their baby to welcome him?

Now some of my random dad!Ghost canons! >.<

10000000000% girl dad

he certainly never planned to have children, due to his own traumas and dangerous job, so having them was by an accident for sure.

feeling first kick, seeing a baby bump or ultrasound made something "click" in him

once he becomes a father, he is overprotective and wants to provide child with a safe and calm environment, which he never had

delicate and distant at the beginning. He doesn't think he deserves a family, and if he does have one, he's afraid of losing it.

he is action and giving type of person. A new swing in the garden? Installed in a few hours. Repair a broken toy or paint walls in new color? Done. Take baby to the doctor? You can count on him at any time. This is his love language.

grumpy type with a dad humor. Always has a lame joke up his sleeve

at the same time, as the child grows up, he also learns what it means to show love for them as a father. So only with time he starts to feel comfortable hugging his baby, playing with them, etc.

once he gets it, oh boy, he throws this kid all over the place while playing. Yes, he is the type of father who throws his child on the mattress and pretends to play WWE

have you seen this photo of Chris Hemsworth where he holds his kid by leg on a beach? Yes, this is Simon

or wraps them up like a burrito in a blanket and watch them struggle with smile on his face. The best way to tire them out, so it's a win for everyone if they fall asleep faster!

but he also likes to watch cartoons with them and cuddle (falls asleep after a few minutes)

he does THIS a lot

his kid/s definitely color his tattoos. And no, he doesn't wash them off. He's very proud of them. Definitely shows them to Soap.

seeing blood during a mission in his life was nothing compared to changing baby's diaper. Avoids it like the plague.

definitely did a fake tea party once. Little plastic chair broke under his weight.

has a lot of vids and pics on his phone of every possible situation of what his child is doing - sleeps, eats, talks, plays, smiles.... Once in a while shows them to 141

but he definitely likes photos where baby is sleeping the most. Because then he sees their calm expression and it gives him a sense of peace and fulfillment

[phoward89]

This is based on this ask.

Coryo is a hands on dad in this. (Thank God, since he was a real piece of shit in the last daddy!Coriolanus one shot)

Everyone says that pregnancy is a beautiful experience. Women are supposed to look radiant and glowing as they're round with the new life they're growing inside of them.

What nobody tells you is that your feet and ankles swell, your back aches, you pee more than a race horse, you balloon into the size of a beluga whale, and your mood swings are all over the place because of the pregnancy hormones. Oh, and you crave the weirdest things.

Nope, people don't tell you that. You had to learn that the hard way. At least you had your husband by your side during everything.

Coriolanus is a very busy man, being the youngest President of Panem, but he always made time in his busy schedule for you. To check in on you and make sure you were okay. After all, it's his fault you're in the condition you're in.

Okay…

Well…

You both agreed to try for a baby during the honeymoon, so it technically wasn't his fault you're big and miserable right now.

Honestly, Coriolanus had baby fever and replaced your birth control pills with sugar pills a month or so before the wedding, so you were bound to get pregnant right away.

Anyways, you're currently so big that you can't do anything by yourself. Hell, you can barely even walk anymore. You're practically waddling like a duck.

And you're so emotional. You've been crying at the drop of a hat lately. Anything, literally anything, can put you into a crying drag. It was emotionally exhausting.

Your husband, the president, was surprisingly supportive of you. He doted on you. Even when you were complaining about being uncomfortable or crying your eyes out for the umpteenth time, Coryo was right by your side trying to comfort you.

Despite his cold, calculated, stoic nature that everyone saw, he was soft and loving towards you. But only you.

Because he loves you more than anything in this world.

Despite vowing to never let himself fall in love again, when you became his personal secretary when he was Senator Snow he fell for you.

It was hard not to. Your beauty paired with your personality was hard for him to resist.

So, he broke a promise to himself that he made at 18 or 19 years old. But, when it comes to love it just happens. Vowing to never fall in love's a foolish notion because one can't control who they fall in love with.

It just happens.

But, unfortunately, when he fell in love with you it wasn't when you were available. You had a long time boyfriend. And since Coriolanus wanted you to be his, he got rid of your boyfriend.

Permanently.

With poison.

And then a few months after your boyfriend was out of the picture, Coriolanus wooed you. He asked you out with pretty words and a single white rose. Of course you accepted.

Then, when he was campaigning to become Panem's youngest president, he proposed. And after he won the election, becoming President Snow, he married you; made you his First Lady Snow.

And now you're about to become a mother, another thing he had a hand in the making of.

The only problem was that your due date’s come and gone.

And you feel absolutely miserable.

“Darling, I just got off the phone with Dr. Wellock about your situation of being overdue.” Your husband, Coryo, announced as he walked into the sunroom room you were lounging in.

“What did he say?” You asked as the platinum blonde made his way over to your side.

“He says that an induction isn't done until the expecting mother is anywhere between 10-12 days overdue.” He said, taking a seat next to you on the sofa.

“So that means I have at least 5 more days of feeling miserable?” You asked, feeling tears begin to well up.

“Unfortunately, yes, my darling rose.” Coryo told you while wrapping an arm around you. Pulling you into his chest, he said, “The doctor gave me a list of things that can help to induce you naturally.” Rubbing your lower back, knowing that it was bothering you lately, you husband told you, “I'm having the kitchen staff cook the foods that'll help naturally induce you, Y/N.”

Coryo was a godsend. He was looking after you when he should be busy running the country. He didn't have an easy job.

He was the President of Panem.

And here he was catering to you. Offering you comfort and gentle reassurances during your difficult time of being overdue and feeling uncomfortable.

Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed. Felt like a burdened. And, before you could even control yourself, you started to cry into your husband's chest.

“What's wrong, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, threading his long fingers thru your hair, trying to soothe you.

“I feel bad that you're here with me instead of running the country. You’re the president, you should be working, not by my side giving me backrubs and helping me get from point A to point B all the time.”

“Y/N, darling, I might be the president, but I'm also your husband. As your husband, I put you and our unborn child before anything, including work. The wellbeing of my family will always come first, Panem second.”

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You asked between sobs.

Because he whacked your Academy Sweetheart.

But, Coriolanus couldn't tell you that. No, that's a secret he'll take with him to the grave. Along with all the other various murders he's committed and will keep on committing in order to be all powerful and filthy rich.

No, instead the president just presses a kiss to your head and tells you, “Dumb luck, I suppose.” Rubbing circles into your lower back, causing soft moans to fall from your lips, Coriolanus smiled, “But I consider myself the lucky one for being your husband. There's no other woman in all of Panem that I could ever see myself loving as deeply as I love you.”

Sniffing and wiping at your eyes, you say, “Don't tell me sweet stuff like that or I'll never stop crying.”

Unfortunately, labor inducing foods didn't work. So, Coryo told you that the doctor told him that sex, nipple stimulation, and orgasms could help induce labor. You laughed at him, saying that had to be a lie since, despite your huge size, you were still very sexually active with him. Coriolanus just shrugged, claiming that's what the doctor told him.

You don't know if it was from sex or just your time to go into labor, but in the middle of the night (after having late night sex with your husband) you woke up with labor pains and a soaked nightgown. When you woke up Coriolanus, telling him that it was (finally) time and that you were in labor, he quickly grabbed your baby bag and rushed you to the hospital.

The man, being a very devoted husband and father to be, drove you himself. You feared that Coryo would drag you to the hospital in his pajamas, but much to your relief he did toss on some clothes before taking you.

Once at the hospital, since you're the First Lady of Panem, you were put on VIP status and given a private room with a window view of the Rockies. You didn't really care since you were in the worst pain of your entire life, but it was a nice gesture. Coriolanus sure did enjoy the special treatment you were getting. Remarking how only the best for his love would do.

The president never left your side during your labor. He wiped your sweaty forehead with a cool cloth, buzzed the nurses for ice chips and pain meds for you, and he let you squeeze his hand to the point he thought his bones would break whenever you had a particularly painful contraction.

The hospital staff just melted at the sight of President Coriolanus Snow doting on his First Lady Y/N Snow. The nurses were swooning everytime they heard Coryo tell you, “You’re doing so well, darling.”, “I know it hurts, little dove, but soon we'll have our baby and it'll be well worth it.”, “Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, my darling rose. I served as a peacekeeper once, I can handle you breaking my hand while in labor pains.”

You were sitting up, pushing hard every 5 seconds, around 3 times per contraction. Coryo was right by your side, holding your hand and telling you, “You're doing wonderful, darling. Just a few more pushes and we'll be parents.”

The nurse in the room fought back the urge to swoon at the president’s words while the doctor just assured you that Coriolanus was right, that he could see the baby's head and after another push the baby would be born.

So, gathering all of the strength you could muster after pushing for what felt like hours, you did one last, hard push.

Your baby came out with a healthy set of lungs. Crying before even needing a spank to the butt.

Dr. Wellock held the baby up in the air, only to announce, “It's a girl!”

A girl. You and Coryo had a baby girl.

Tears of love welled up in your eyes as Coriolanus’ baby blues shines with pride as he whispered, “A baby girl.”, before pressing a soft kiss to your chapped lips.

“Mister President, Sir, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Wellock asked your husband as a nurse helped you deliver the placenta.

“Yes, I would like to.” Coriolanus replied before standing up and going over to the doctor. Silently, the doctor passed him the scissors and he cut the cord. After cutting the cord, your husband returned to your side while the doctor passed the baby over to the nurse to be cleaned and wrapped in a blanket.

“She's beautiful, darling.” Coriolanus told you as the doctor quickly cleaned you up.

“Does she have your platinum blonde hair?” You asked, a curious smile splitting your face wide open.

“Yes.” The president nodded. “She has both my light blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“You're going to be beating all the boys off with a stick in about, eh, 13 or so years.” You knowingly giggled right as the nurse appeared with your bundle of joy wrapped in a soft pink blanket and matching hat.

Handing you your daughter, the nurse asked, “What's her name?”

“Cersei.” You and Coryo answered at the same time, looking at your daughter with nothing but love.

Honestly, you were a bit nervous about how Coryo would be as a father since, after all, he had a lot on his plate as the president of the country. But it turns out that you didn't have anything to worry about. Coriolanus was a great father. He was very hands-on despite his strenuous and busy job being President of Panem.

The president always made time for his daughter and, of course, for you.

And when you went out in public, he was always by your side when wheeling your baby in the stroller. So many paparazzis would hide and flash pictures of President Snow with your daughter because it was the only way to get a picture of them together. Coryo never used Cersei for photo ops or publicity stunts. In fact he rarely talked about her at all interviews other then the general and polite answers of, “Oh, she's doing well.”, “Cersei's a happy girl.”, and “She’s hitting all of her milestones.”

Honestly, Coryo didn't like to talk too much about his daughter because he didn't want her in the limelight. He chose to become the president and you chose to become his first lady. You both knew the fame that came with it. But Cersei was born into it and your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, wanted her to have as normal of a childhood as possible.

And then, when your daughter was 3, you got pregnant again. Well, you and Coriolanus weren't trying, but weren't preventing either.

You were too far along yet, just nearing your 4th month. You knew that soon you'd be blowing into the size of a balloon tho.

But you weren't thinking about that right now.

Right now, you were just smiling at the sight of your daughter curled up on your husband's lap as he read her a book during one of his breaks from his office in the presidential wing of the mansion.

“Daddy?” Your daughter, whose platinum blonde hair was in little piggy tales, asked- causing your husband to pause in his reading.

It was cute how Coriolanus melted the first time he was called Dada and decided to let his daughter call him Daddy as she grew despite telling you over and over again during your pregnancy with her that he was going to be called father or nothing at all.

She's like Cersei has your husband wrapped around her finger.

“Yes, princess?” Coryo asked your daughter, looking at her with a genuine smile.

“Mama’s here.” She excitedly told your husband with a big smile on her face.

Coryo looked up, only to tell your daughter, “Oh, so she is.” Waving you into the room, your husband said, “Come in and sit down, darling. You don't need to stand in the doorway.”

“Oh, don't mind me, I was just walking down the hall and thought that I'd just check in on my favorite people while on my way to get a snack.” You told your husband, shrugging off his offer of you joining him and your daughter in the sun room.

“Mama, I want a snack!” Cersei exclaimed.

Coryo chuckled, only to close the book he was reading and place it onto the side table by his sitting chair. Standing up, with your daughter slung on his hip, the president announced, “Looks like a family snack time’s in order before I get back to work being the President Panem.”

When Cersei was almost 4, you had your son, Cassian Xandros. Then when she was 5 you had another son, Caspian Xenos and when she was 7 you had your last child. Another son, who was named Caelestis Xanthias.

Even tho Coriolanus had not 1 but 3 boys to carry on the mighty and magnificent Snow name, it was your daughter, Cersei, that was his favorite child.

Coriolanus was a good father to all 4 of your children, but it was your daughter that had him wrapped around his finger. She was daddy's little princess. She could do no wrong in his eyes.

But your boys…oh boy…Your son's had to be perfect unless they wanted to hear Coriolanus lecture them. He expected straight A’s and top marks in school from his 3 boys. Expected them to be involved in school politics, chess club, and the debate team. And when it came time for them to be mentors in the Hunger Games for a district that didn't have a Victor to act as a mentor, well you better believe that they had to be perfect at that too.

But not Cersei. Oh no… Coryo let Cersei get away with shit that he'd never let Cassian Xandros, Caspian Xenos, and Caelestis Xanthias get away with.

Cersei didn't want to be a mentor, so guess what? Her daddy, President Snow, let her stay home sick during the games so her mentor spot had to be given to somebody else. If she wanted to quit ballet lessons after just one lesson, saying it wasn't fun, then she could. She could get away with anything she wanted to, because your husband let her.

Coriolanus spoiled his daughter rotten.

And one day, as a young woman, when Cersei went running to her daddy saying that she was in trouble (knocked up) and that the Peacekeeper that got her in that condition didn't want the responsibility of a family, you know what Coriolanus did? He just told your daughter that he'd take care of everything.

And boy did he ever…

He had tea with that peacekeeper, where only one of them walked away from the garden tea table alive, and scattered the man's family all over the districts. Making sure that his younger siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins, etc were reaped when eligible.

Coriolanus also assured your daughter that you and him would help her raise her baby. That she'd have your support and wouldn't be alone.

So, when Cersei gave birth to her daughter, Celeste Snow, as a single mother you and Coryo were by her side. Assuring her that everything was fine, that she was going to be a great mother.

You had a sense of deja vu whenever the nurses all gossiped and giggled about how President Snow was such a good father and grandfather to be for staying by his daughter's side and supporting her despite her being an unwed mother.

Coriolanus was a great father to all of your children, but his favorite was your daughter Cersei. So, naturally, his favorite grandchild was her only daughter Celeste. He dotes on your granddaughter Celeste. She was the apple of his eye, even when the boys started getting married and having children of their own.

Coriolanus loved all his grandchildren, but Celeste was his favorite.

You on the other hand didn't have favorites. You loved all of your children and grandchildren equally.

But Coryo wasn't like you. No, your husband was the type to love obsessively, so he had to pick favorites.

So, it didn't surprise you when one day, before the games started, you walked into the sunroom to see your granddaughter and your husband having brunch. It reminded you of how he used to read to her mother all those years ago.

He might be older now with pure white hair, a distinguished white beard framing his face, and a bit more weight on his bones, but he was the same man in spirit he was all those years ago when he used to cut time out of his day just for your daughter. Now he just does it for his granddaughter.

“Grandpa, Grandma just walked in.” Celeste announced, peeling little shell pieces off of her soft boiled egg.

“I see that, darling.” Coryo told your granddaughter. Looking at you, he gestured to the empty seat next to him at the table and suggested, “Why don't you join me, my darling rose.”

“Well, I wasn't planning to, but if you insist.” You smiled, walking further into the room.

Your eyes saw the way Celeste had her hair done in a braid, that looked like the one that Victor from 12 Katniss Everdeen wore and you secretly hoped that your husband wouldn't yell at her for it. You knew how much he couldn't stand the Everdeen girl and feared that he'd be upset with Celeste for wearing her hair like the victor's.

As you sat down, you heard your husband say, “Your hair looks lovely darling, when did you start wearing it like that?”

“Everybody at school wears it like this now, grandpa.” Celeste said with a little devious smile on her face.

And the backlash never came. He just nodded his head and went on to eat his egg.

And that's when you knew that Celeste had the same power over him that Cersei did. That you had as well.

Coriolanus Snow might be a cold, evil, dictator of a president, but to his granddaughter, daughter, and wife he's just a man that loves them unconditionally to the point where it might be considered a weakness if anyone knew.

And perhaps that's why he never speaks much about his girls in interviews. He'll speak about his boys, but not his girls.

Because if anything ever happened to his girls, well…the president wouldn't know what to do with him.

That's how much he loves his darling girls.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503 @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88, @v-love

[slytherinshua]

CHERRY BOWS

genre. fluff. cheol as a dad. warnings. toddler/parent stuff. cheol gets jelly. pairing. husband!scoups x wife!reader. wc. 1k. request. request by @blue-jisungs: you asked for soft hours n i shall give!! it’s been in my mind for a hot while actually but i’m too busy rn to do it myself… and you’re the perfect person bc U MADE ME THINK IF TJAT 🫵🫵 jealous dad seungcheol :( ofc he loves u n ur kid but give him some attention too smh >:T and requested by anon: i love your svt as dads!! they’re all so cute and i’d like to request one for cheol! a/n. i love love love dad cheol omg :( my second dad fic for him hehe <3 hes so girl dad coded and SOOOOO ADORABLE SKDJKS I LOVE HIM!!!!

“You ate without me…?” Cheol’s sleepy mumble was the first thing you heard from him. He had tiredly trudged downstairs when he had woken up and you weren’t next to him in the bed. It was already a bad start to the day when that happened, and he was frowning and pouting and generally sulking about it by the time he found you.

He wrapped his arms around you from the back, trapping you in the middle of the living room so you couldn’t continue without giving him the attention he needed. You smiled at his clinginess and deep raspy morning voice, but scoffed at how baby-like he was in the morning. Sometimes he acted even more like a child than your actual child. 

Eunha was your now 2 year old daughter. She was adored by everyone and constantly doted on. She could be a handful at times, but only because she had started to take after your bossiness and knew exactly how to appeal to Seungcheol. If she ever wanted something, all she had to do was look at them with those big boba eyes that she got from him, and he’d be folding.

He loved her more than anything. Probably even more than you, but you were okay with it. It warmed your heart how much he cared for his daughter. He’d die for her in a heartbeat without a second of hesitation. You were learning more and more every day the love a father could hold for his children. You had expected this attitude when you married him, of course. Because you knew him and you knew how caring he was. He was so filled with love for people and the world, and you were so lucky to have him.

Starting a family had always been a dream for both of you, and Eunha’s birth had been your biggest blessing. It was challenging to take care of a toddler, but you and Cheol always did your best.

Eunha was happily playing with her toy dolls after eating breakfast— the entire living room spread with her mess. It was always a constant of cleaning her toys in the evening just for her to make a new mess the next day, but you didn’t mind. It was worth it to see her so happy, and though it could be stressful to have a messy space sometimes, her happy giggles made up for it.

“Were you playing dolls with her without me as well?” Cheol asked, the pout he was wearing somehow finding its way into his tone. You giggled and he squeezed you tighter out of jealousy. He didn’t want to admit that he missed your attention being only on him, but it was true. 

You were getting up earlier to feed Eunha and play with her in the morning. The sleepy morning cuddles that Cheol looked forward to every time he fell asleep next to you were becoming rarer and rarer and he felt bitter about the change. It just wasn’t the same with Eunha. It wasn’t worse, it was definitely better in most aspects, but the free time that he had enjoyed before was being sucked away by the little child.

“She wanted me to be the doctor.” You told him, explaining the dynamics of Eunha’s favourite game. She would be the mother to her little baby doll, and either Cheol or you would usually be the doctor.

“The bed was so cold without you…” He murmured, pushing his cheek against your neck. His skin was warm against yours and you leaned into him more, savouring the feeling.

“I’m sorry. You know that Eunha likes to get up early…” You whispered.

“She should’ve woken me up instead of you. Aren’t you tired?” 

“A bit. Eating breakfast with her was nice, though. She insisted on having strawberries with her yogurt since she had seen me eat it like that once.” You smiled. Seungcheol pouted.

“I thought I was her favourite…” He was mostly joking, of course, but slightly hurt. He had always been susceptible to jealousy. Maybe he was a little too greedy— he loved watching you and Eunha spend time together, but he also hated being left out.

Your little moment of warm embrace was interrupted after 2 minutes, a giggly Eunha running up and clinging to her father’s leg. She babbled something about her doll and wanting to get ice cream later today, which you were sure Seungcheol would indulge her in. He spoiled her too much.

You were happy to see your husband’s pout lift up into the sweetest of grins. He picked up Eunha, holding her so that she was resting on his hip. He kept one arm around you; almost if you would run away and leave him if he didn’t. Which was probably partially true since you hadn’t cleaned up from breakfast yet.

“Give daddy a kiss?” Cheol asked Eunha, giggles ensuing amongst both of them. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek cutely and you smiled. Now that Seungcheol was awake as well, the two would be inseparable for the rest of the day— especially since Cheol didn’t have any work to get to.

The morning happily proceeded with a small second breakfast and playtime. Now that your husband was being included in every activity, he was all smiles and giggles. He liked being the centre of attention; you had discovered that fact throughout the years. He was the happiest man in the world when he knew he was making his daughter happy.

Her happiness always came first, even when it relied on Seungcheol’s hair being tied up in pigtails with little cherry-coloured bows because Eunha wanted to play hairdresser. You were almost envious of how cute he looked in them. It was impossible not to love everything that Cheol did.

Along with the bows came matching sweaters with a cherry pattern for father and daughter. One look at the two and you could easily declare them the two cutest human beings in the entire world.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @edensgardenn,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cienlvrs,, @amara-mars

[starkeyisthelastname]

Could you write some more stepbro! Rafe with pregnant reader (it being his baby) pls?

“This the right place?” Rafe asked, gum in his mouth as he looked past his Ray-Bans at the building before him. You glanced at it with a nod, gathering your purse in one hand. “Thank you again for taking me to this. I know it was a long drive.” You told your step-brother, who shrugged.

Traveling to the mainland for your ultrasound appointment was already a hassle and with Ward on a business trip, and your mother showing a property, Rafe was the only option left. He was your child’s father and you did want him to be one who was there with you through this, despite the secret circumstance.

The 6’2 man couldn’t have looked more bored as he sat in the chair, lanky body slumped down while the two of you waited for the doctor. While he had purposely gotten you pregnant, he didn’t think that it would actually happen. Now that you were 28 weeks, it was becoming more real everyday for him. He was beginning to become closed off instead of excited as the reality was hitting at just how messed up this was and he had to be quiet about it. The problem was, Rafe didn’t care that you were his step-sister and the fact he had to hide all of this for the sake of his family was bullshit to him.

“I take it your dad?” The doctor asks with a chuckle as she looked at Rafe looking uncomfortable as she checked you.

Rafe wasn’t use to being asked that question, especially on the island. With both of you being unfamiliar faces, he nodded slowly.

“I know this isn’t the fun part to watch, but I assure you that you are about to like what’s next.” She told him, taking her gloves off. Dimming the lights, she placed the gel on your round belly and moved the wand around. Pressing a few buttons on the screen, the both of you waited until she turned the monitor around.

In the 4D image, you could see a clear image of the baby girl inside of you. Your heart stopped and you looked over at Rafe who’s blue eyes had now widened at seeing your baby in a clearer picture. “She looks like you.” You whispered softly, reaching out for his hand. You felt his larger one grasp yours tightly, his eyes never leaving the monitor.

“Those are definitely my ears.” He laughed for the first time that day, a genuine smile on his handsome face.

[c0zyrainfall]

Damian: Ooh. There's a cute girl over there.

Anya: What.

Damian: Do you wanna be my friend? Only if your dad is an elitist tho

Anya: My dad's a doctor

Damian: Ew imagine being as poor as the upper middle class

Anya: No

Damian: I hate you.

Anya: I hate you too.

Anya: Ugh, I'm sorry for punching you I guess.

Damian: I'm literally in love with you.

Anya: what

Damian: WHAT. I SAID I HATE YOU

Anya: what 😭

Anya: Guess I'll befriend him? For the mission!

Damian: I cannot stand the sight of you crying. You're not allowed to cry in my presence. It's too dangerous because I'll just give you anything you want.

Anya: I want sweets

Damian: You're so unfair

Anya: Well shoot, you're gonna get a tonitrus bolt unless I save you rn.

Damian: No

Anya: Take my hankerchief

Damian: I literally owe you my life now

Anya: I'll settle for cake.

Anya: Omg our moms are friends now. We should become friends so we can beat them at friendship

Damian: Hold up did my mom reveal all my embarrassing secrets

Anya: Nah

Damian: Darn... I mean that's great, but we're still not friends

Anya: Camping trip!

Damian: Camping trip:

Anya and Damian: wait no we're stuck in the woods together

Damian: Guess I'll hold your hand 🙄

Anya: 🥹

Damian: Ugh I brought the cake... Nvm my friends ate it

Anya: Omg a terrorist hijacked the bus. I'm gonna go save everyone

Damian: Wait no ur gonna get yourself killed!

Anya: what are you worried

Damian: Yeah kinda 😭 Just a lil but only because you're my classmate

Anya: well too bad I'm saving everyone anyways... Oh nvm the terrorists just strapped a bomb to my neck.

Damian: Put it on me instead

Anya: ....

Anya: I saved everyone

Damian: I guess you did. That was kind of a little bit cool.

Anya: Well you were pretty cool too when you tried to take the bomb for me

Damian: I only did it cuz we're friends 😭

Anya: We're friends?!?!?!

Damian: NO

Anya: OHOHO other people think I'm cool now. I don't need Damian anymore

Damian: Say WHAT

Becky: Ur jealous lol.

Damian: No

Ewen: Space is cool

Damian: Whatever

Ewen: OMG Anya we share a common interest in space!

Anya: I want to build a castle on the moon!

Damian: When I grow up I'll make it so you can go to space whenever you want. I will literally build you a castle on the moon.

Becky: You are SO jealous lol

Damian: Well I can't really deny it now can I

Damian: I literally got Anya the most expensive cake in the world. But only to pay my blood debt to her for the handkerchief thing, and for no other reasons.

Anya: Omg give me the cake.. I mean, be my friend.

Damian: She wants to square up???

Anya: No. I want to be your friend.

Damian: Idk why she wants to fight me so badly but I guess I'll oblige as an excuse to spend time with her... I mean to give her the cake.

Anya: Omg just give me the cake already.

Damian: I'm literally in love with you. I MEAN I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND. I'M JUST GIVING YOU THESE TO PAY BACK MY BLOOD DEBT.

Anya: Yeah okay we can be friends now! Gotta beat our moms at the friendship scheme.

Damian: Wait she's in love with me

Anya: King of jumping to conclusions over here 😭 Omg nevermind pls leave me alone

Damian: Queen of mixed signals you make no sense 😭

Anya: Bro chill we're literally in first grade 💀✋

Damian: Haha, you're too dumb to make it into the same class as me next semester

Anya: Oh wait ur right :(

Damian: Wait but what if she actually beats me though

Anya: I drew a beard into my face with permanent marker.

Damian: WAIT BUT WHAT IF SHE ACTUALLY BEATS ME THOUGH

[sanjisblackasswife]

𝕋𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞 “ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣’𝕤 𝔻𝕒𝕪”

ʙʟᴋ!ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Ft. Zoro, Sanji. Luffy, Law, Ace

Suggestive Language, All Jokes, Established Relationships , They’re called “Daddy” as a joke relax

Zoro

Didnt even know Father’s Day was a thing.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy”🤭

“What?”

“Happy Fa—“

“I heard you, what the hell is Fathers Day.”

You had to explain to him its a day to acknowledge fathers and he immediately is more confused

“I’m not a dad why’d you call me daddy.”

“Because you—

“Oh…this is a sex thing isn’t it.”

He picks you up over his shoulder with a smug smile and takes you to your room????

“See if you wanted to have a quickie you should have just said so.”

“ZORO NO PUT ME DOWN!”

You still tried to explain it was a JOKE but his stupid ass can only think about the last time you called him daddy in bed.

And that’s what you did again today😁

Sanji

Dont do that.

If you don’t actually want to become parents today dont do that.

Throws him off at first though, so he pauses when you say it, leaving him to stare at you for a second

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy😘”

“…You’re pregnant!?”

He thinks this is your way of announcing you’re pregnant.

“What no! I’m just playing! Besides we haven’t had sex in a month. I just wanted to tell you it as a joke.”

He is a litttlleeee sad but tries not to show it, unfortunately for you you notice and kiss his disappointed face

“Well…can we one day make it a reality? Y’know..so next year you can tell me and it be true?”

Ugh, he wants to be a dad so bad and his glistening eyes always get you so you couldn’t help but to agree.

“Of course, Daddy…or should I say future daddy.”

Luffy

Didnt even hear you.

You said it during breakfast and all he did was pause for a second to acknowledge your cheek kiss and went right back to eating.

Everybody else heard you though.

“Happy Father’s Day, Lu…”

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” (said everybody)

Now Sanji is crying pounding the floor saying “God I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU’VE DONE FOR OTHERS”

It was pretty bad timing considering 1. nobody on the crew knew you and Luffy had sex. 2. Now everybody knows you and Luffy has sex.

You have to explain you’re not actually pregnant like 4 times and Luffy just didn’t get what was happening

“Y/N and Luffy—-you both—oh my gosh i’m going to gag.”

“Alright calm down usopp it’s not a big deal😒”

The rest of the morning was just small jokes and side eyes by everybody and your wonderful boyfriend finally starts paying attention by asking you later that day:

“Y/n who’s pregnant?”

Law

Knows it’s a prank.

You tend to forget not only is he your boyfriend but your doctor too

“Happy Father’s Day!🤭”

“You’re not pregnant you’re on your period.”

“😒Mmmtch. That’s not the point.”

“Get out.”

“Why can’t you just for once engage in my shinanagains 😒”

“I am not a Father so why tell me that.”

“….Well I was calling you Daddy this morning while you was helping me with my cramps i—“

“Y/N!”

“JUST SAY THANK YOU?”

“FOR WHAT?”

“…..Ion know just say it.🦦”

“ThankYou.”

“AWWW YOU’RE WELCOME DADDY!”

“Don’t call me that…..now.”

Ace

From the way his breeding kink shows in the bedroom you’re shocked that he isn’t already one

You wanted to poke fun at it today too especially since last night you both had sex so you say it to him.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy😘”

He Kinda just stares at you blankly

“I’m not a dad— Oh! But if it is Father’s Day we should get Pops something—“

“….”

“….”

“What.”

You explain to him the joke that you only told him that because of his kink he begins to blush uncontrollably.

“I-um…sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize silly. It is only a matter of time that you do y’know…”

Seeing as he was already flustered especially now that your arms are around his neck, he just buries his face in your neck.

“You gatta stop embarrassing me like this, Y/n.”

You giggle, giving him a kiss on his temple at his light hearted tone. As an apology though you take him to your room and well…

He almost became a daddy alright.

[desert-fern]

The Walls Are Caving In - Jake Seresin X Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin X Fem!Reader (Known as Honey Bee/Honey)

Summary: You are sunshine incarnate, the life of the party who is so free with your affection. Jake finds himself struggling to express his desire to be like you while wrestling with his past, what happens when it all comes crashing down around him? AKA Jake is both touch-starved and in love.

Warnings: Jake has a shit dad, angst, still fluffy tho (lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This one-shot is inspired a little by the song In my Blood by Shawn Mendes. That and I really wanted to explore what could be going on inside the cocky man we all know and some of us fell in love with, so please enjoy 5k words of me putting Jake under the microscope.

===

Jake Seresin was a mystery to you.

The blonde man had always been standoffish around you, almost like he couldn’t stomach the thought of being near you. Yet when the other pilots came together, it was like Jake couldn’t be close enough, knocking elbows with Bob as he tried to take a sip of his drink and chuckling when the WSO had to set his drink down to give him a bewildered look. Jake would start teasing shoving matches with Rooster out on the beach, laughing as he got absolutely rocked back into the sand.

But when you were in the group? He was as far away from you as was considered polite.

The unfortunate thing was that you thrived on physical contact. You loved hugs, both giving them and receiving them. Fanboy had figured it out early on and would now run up and pull you off your feet to spin you around. It was nothing but playful, yet why did Jake always look at you strangely?

You’d given up on finding out, choosing to focus on your career as a base medic. It had been a dream of yours to be a doctor while growing up, but as you got older, you had to face the fact that it wasn’t the most financially sound decision. So you joined the Navy and found your calling as a medic. Between treating a few base personnel for coffee burns, the occasional broken toe from jamming it against a bench in the locker room, and the pilots and crew members who would pass out when the weather got too hot, you were thriving on your ability to always try and bring a smile and a listening ear to whoever came through the door needing help.

It was why you had become known as Honey Bee by the base dwellers, as you had taken to calling them. You were sweet and were genuinely interested in getting to know people, but if someone fucked around, you always had a whole swarm of people willing to makes sure they found out.

What you weren’t expecting from the job was to catch the eye of several of the Navy pilots, not for a lack of trying to dissuade them. You knew better than to shit where you ate, knew better than to mess around with a Navy man who could very well have a girl at any and every port of call. You were here to do your job first and foremost.

But that started to change. Jake had caught your eye, not just because of the blonde hair that always seemed to glow in the late afternoon California sun, the green eyes that seemed to clock where you were in a crowd, or because he was magnetic in a room of people, but because you wanted to know more about him. He was an enigma to you aside from his medical record. You knew that he’d broken his elbow in high school playing football, that he’d sprained an ankle tripping over a step, hell you even knew his medication allergies. But anything personal, you could forget about.

So you stuck it out, keeping your distance and content to smother the other pilots in your affection.

===

It was late in the evening as you watched Rooster play yet another song that was older than he was, his squadron around him yelling along to the words. You and Bradley had been close since the mission he refused to talk about, only that he and his godfather had nearly died. You two had also engaged in a casual relationship, hooking up on the off chance neither of you had a partner, but other than the occasional romp in the sheets, you two were as close as best friends. It’s why you were here tonight.

Taking a sip from your drink, you turned to watch the crowd around you, scanning the room and enjoying your people watching. You didn’t know how long you’d been staring around the room, but it had been long enough that Bradley had stepped away from the piano to stand behind you. “Hey Honey.”

You spun around, hand pressed to your chest. “Jesus fuck Bradshaw! You better not give your favourite medic a heart attack. Who else would treat your ass after you fell off another ladder?”

“That’s just rude, Honey Bee,” he teased, winking at you over his sunglasses that had fallen down his nose. “You know no one else fixes me up like you do.”

“Damn right. So watch it,” you shot back, snatching his sunglasses off his face and putting them on your own face. “Also sunglasses at 10 pm? Who are you fooling?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes at your smirk. “Okay, okay. I came over here to give you a hug ‘cause you’ve been sitting over here by yourself. But since you decided to be rude, I’m just gonna walk away.” Bradley turned, moving through the crowd away from you and towards his team on the other side of the bar.

“Fuck you!” You yelled after him, downing your drink and chasing after him. You caught up to him, tapping him on the shoulder and when he turned, you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. “You’re a real jerk, Bradshaw. You know that?”

He laughed, hugging you back. “And you’re a real smart ass for being as sweet as you are, Honey.” Bradley grinned down at you, pulling his aviators off your face and tucked an arm in the collar of his shirt. “Sometimes it feels like I gotta wrangle you.”

You pulled back grinning at him. “You love me.” You felt energised, like that one simple hug had been injected with jet fuel. You were a social butterfly if you had enough hugs throughout the night and thankfully the Daggers had a number of people who loved your playful teasing and joyous affection. It was how you spread your love and you would be damned if Bradley or his friends felt like you weren’t appreciative of how they kept him and each other safe.

“Regretfully,” he quipped, slapping your shoulder and moving over to where Phoenix and Coyote were chatting.

“Dick!” You called after him, laughing when he flipped you off, his back still turned.

You fell into easy conversation with Bob and Fanboy, grinning when Bob pressed his side to you for a moment after a particularly funny joke. And you continued to bounce around the little groups, laughing loudly and uproariously even though you’d only had one drink hours earlier. “How do you do it, Honey?” Payback asked after you’d come back from dancing with his WSO.

“Do what?”

“Have so much energy. I’d be exhausted if I were you.”

You grinned at him, a wide one showing your teeth. “Well Reuben, I see so many people because of work, but I’ve always been like this.”

“Now that,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “That I can picture. Little baby Honey with two braids making friends with everyone on the playground.”

You laughed with him, feeling alive with the energy in the room. It was only when you glanced around at the other Daggers did you notice a storm cloud underneath the ray of sunshine you were casting over your friends.

“Why don’t you turn your charm on Bagman over there? Seems like his battery is wearing out.” You jumped nearly elbowing Phoenix in the face.

A shrug. “He’s not my biggest fan,” you said simply, missing how Reuben and Nat gave each other a look over your head. “Besides, I don’t want to ruin his night even more than it seems to be going.”

“Mmm,” Natasha hummed noncommittally. “Still, I think you should at least try.”

You turned around. “Why? You all see how he seems to always stand on the opposite side of the room from me, how he barely says two words to me.” There was a frown on your face, something so uncharacteristic that it nearly had Payback choking on his drink as he saw it cross your face.

Natasha just raised an eyebrow and you folded like cheap cardboard. “Fine, but he’s not going to like this.”

You wove through the crowd, making your way over to the jukebox where Jake stood contemplating a song choice. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He didn’t look up at you, choosing instead to stare at the song list you know he’d practically memorized.

A beat of awkward silence passed. “So…” you started again. “You have a song in mind or is it going to be a random choice?”

“Why? You have something you want to play instead?” His tone was sharp, like he was trying to brush you off and it startled you. You could feel Nat’s curious eyes on you and were half tempted to turn around and shout ‘See?!’ in her direction.

“N-no. I was just curious.” Now you were feeling unwelcome. Everything about his body language screamed ‘leave me alone’. He was tense, speaking through gritted teeth, hand white knuckling his beer bottle. “Especially since Rooster always seems to hijack the music whenever you pick a song.”

Jake didn’t say anything, going back to faking his pondering over song choices. You stayed for another moment, before nodding to yourself. “O-okay.” You gave him a hesitant smile before slipping away back towards Natasha. Seconds later, you heard Def Leppard begin to blare through the bar as Jake strolled through the crowd, using his size to gently pass a group of what looked like college girls, whose giggles seemed to carry over the music.

“See?!” You hissed at Natasha. “He would rather fake stare at a music selection he has memorized than talk to me. He clearly can’t stand me!”

Natasha just gave you a cryptic look before drawing you into a conversation about the strangest accident you had ever seen or had. It was enough to draw you focus away from the blonde pilot icing you out, but it also prevented you from catching Jake’s glances your way.

He’d managed to escape your notice for most of the night, choosing to keep to himself or chat with Coyote on the off chance you hadn’t barged into their little group. Contrary to what you thought, Jake didn’t hate you. In fact, he was almost envious of your ability to shine in a room this big. You bounced around like the light off a disco ball, your personality as vibrant as the colours that radiated off as it spun.

The biggest thing he was jealous of though, was the fact that you were free with your affection. You always had a hug and a smile for everyone and if anyone tried to dull your shine, it was like you couldn’t be touched. Jake was jealous of the easy way in which you could ask for a hug to satisfy you.

He couldn’t. Jake yearned for the freedom to be openly affectionate, craved the feeling of being held, but he had spent so long being told that men didn’t do that, that he had to suck it up and be a man. The few girls that had stuck around longer than just one night had never wanted to be close. Sure they had cuddled, but they had all drawn the line at him holding their hand, hugging them from behind. They had only seen him for the prowess and personality he exuded as Hangman, but he was tired of splitting himself down the middle. He wanted someone who wanted Jake too, not just the cocky persona he used to show off. The persona that had made his father spare half a glance his way. He wanted hugs. He just couldn’t ask for them, so he stayed away from you and your sunshine. Created distance between himself and your vibrancy, if only so you wouldn’t pick up on the fact that he desperately needed the affection you distributed in excess.

The half a day he’d spent under your care weeks ago stuck in his memory. Jake hadn’t managed to grab breakfast or lunch on a hot day, hadn’t had much sleep or water, and between the endless up and down, pulling G’s, and push-ups from losing an exercise, the heat became too much for him. He’d passed out halfway through his push-ups, falling face first to the tarmac and scaring the hell out of Hondo who was supervising.

He had been rushed immediately into the infirmary, falling into your capable hands. You had been incredibly gentle checking vital signs, your voice as soothing as a cool damp cloth pressed against feverish skin. You’d stolen his breath when you asked the questions you had memorized due to their frequency of use, and Jake felt like he’d been sucker punched. He didn’t remember much, having spent most of the experience sleeping, but he dreamt of you and every facet of you that had captured his heart and mind over the weeks you had gotten to know one another.

That experience was beside the point though. Instead of asking and being as open and carefree as you were with your love, Jake left himself to revel in the pats on the back, the handshakes, and bro hugs that were “appropriate for a man”. He let himself watch as you hugged Bradshaw, danced with Fanboy, and seemed closer to his squadron than he himself.

So he pushed you away and hoped you didn’t see through him.

===

Days later, you were bustling around the infirmary. You hadn’t seen the Daggers since the night at The Hard Deck and it was kind of taking a toll on your usual bubbly energy. You still had a smile for everyone, but it had started to become forced the longer your shift went on.

Earlier in the day, a pilot had passed out from the summer heat and hit his head hard enough that he bled. You had been filling out reports when the wall of noise hit you and you were on your feet in half a heart beat.

You hadn’t sat down since. That one accident had set off a never-ending queue of people walking through the doors and your feet hurt.

Sat at the desk at the front of the infirmary, you blew out a sigh. 10 more minutes. 10 minutes and then you could go home and relax.

“You good, Honey?” Bradley. You could recognize that smooth voice anywhere.

You nodded tiredly. “Yeah. Just really busy today.”

“I get that.”

“So.” You drew yourself up from your chair, stretching out your arms. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

“I was hoping that you could check on Hangman.”

You blinked at him, thoroughly confused. “What?”

Bradley gave you a flat look. “You heard me.”

“Why?”

“Because he's been reckless lately. He’s going to get himself or someone else killed if he keeps flying like he has.” There was nothing but seriousness in his amber eyes. Every micro expression that flickered over your friend’s face was one of deep concern.

You nodded. “Okay. It will have to be tomorrow though, Roo. I just finished my shift.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry Honey, but I’m worried about him. He won’t talk to anyone and Mav is at his wits’ end. Can you swing by today?”

Internally, you groaned. Jake hated you, you were convinced of that. Yet Bradley seemed genuinely concerned for his teammate and despite your best attempts, you hadn’t been able to put him from your mind. “Yeah, okay. But if he blows up at me, Roo, I swear to God I will hurt you.”

Rooster grinned. He knew your threat was an empty one, you both did. You cared about him too much to actually follow through with it. “Thank you, Honey. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you grumbled as you walked forward to hug him, burying your face in his flight suit. “You really do.”

You felt him scoff as he hugged you back, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. You stayed like that for a moment before pulling back. “Have a good night, Honey.”

“Thanks Roo. Drive safe.”

And then he was gone.

Fuck. What had you just agreed to do? You buried your face in your hands and blew out a long breath. This was going to be a long night.

===

Bradley had texted you Jake’s address as you finished changing out of your scrubs. You knew he was worried, but a part of you was anxious about what would happen should Jake open the door and see you. Would he slam the door in your face? Would he invite you in and then hit you with the cold-shoulder?

Jake Seresin made you nervous. Pretty people always did, and Jake was no exception. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about the two of you, but you never let your fantasies go too far. They were delusions. Jake avoided you at any chance he could, so you had one chance to make sure that he understood that you didn’t resent him even if he so clearly did.

Twenty minutes later, you pulled into his driveway behind the black truck that was so quintessentially Jake it hurt. You walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell and trying not to look as awkward as you felt.

The blue door opened up and Jake stared at you with confusion written all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed, mustering up some courage to say “Rooster sent me. Can I come in?”

“Sure?” Jake held the door open, stepping aside to let you pass by him. “You have strange timing. I just got Bradshit off my ass.”

“Heh yeah. It’s almost like an intervention or something.” Inwardly, you were cringing. Why had you said that? God, it was like any social skills you had vanished the minute you were around the blonde man. “Your house is nice. I love the colour of the hardwood.”

“Thanks.” Jake’s voice was back to short and clipped. It was clear that he was on edge now. Likely thanks to your stupid comment. Why couldn’t the floor just crack open beneath you right now and spare you the awkwardness? “So why are you here?”

You took a deep breath, letting your eyes meet his own. “Rooster is worried about you. He didn’t say why, just that I should check on you.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, averting his gaze. His arms were crossed over his chest, the black T-shirt clinging mouthwateringly to his arms and shoulders- you shook yourself mentally, cringing again at your thoughts. “You can go now.” Jake’s rushed voice cut through your self-judgement and brought you immediately back into his entryway where he stood not quite glaring at you.

Your interest was piqued by his rush of words. “That was awfully quick,” you remarked as casually as you could. “Jake, whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you. I only want to help.”

“Like I said, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Deep down, a part of him was screaming at himself to let you in. To let you help. He would tell you everything if you only asked, if you stayed a little longer. Jake clenched his hand into a fist, restraining himself from capturing you in a hug and never letting go. He shouldn’t have these thoughts. You were just being nice. It didn’t mean anything. Right?

“But I am going to. And your team is worried too.” You tried to reason with him, as you watched him closely.

Jake shook his head. “How many times do I have to say this? I. Am. Fine. Okay?” His voice was raised and he seemed just as shocked as you by his outburst. “I’m sorry, but I am fine.” No. God no. Why had he shouted? Even he could see right through himself, couldn’t you? He really hoped you did.

You gave him a kind smile, before replying “It’s okay, Jake. I’d offer a hug, but I know how much you hate them. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.” You turned back to the door, opening it up and slipping past Jake, your arm brushing his chest and his breath hitched.

Turning around, you faced him and watched his eyes land on everything but you. “Jake?” Your voice was quiet, like you were afraid to push him. “Are you really okay?”

He shook his head, still looking at the floor. “No,” he whispered. The fight had drained out of him, his resolve crashing down around him. When he did meet your eyes, you were astounded by the myriad of emotions you found swirling deep within the green irises.

“Where’s your living room?” You asked gently, hoping that you both could have this conversation in a more comfortable place. Especially since Jake looked like he would collapse at any moment.

“Down the hall,” he said hoarsely, pointing ahead of you both.

You offered your hand to him and could barely contain the shocked noise when he took it. You felt the calluses on his palms, the rough parts that scratched at your own hands, but there was also a softness in them. The parts he tried to keep out of the light. “Come, let’s go sit.”

You perched on the edge of the brown couch and patted the space next to you. When he sat, you noticed how it seemed like he had purposely left space between you both. “So,” you began cautiously. “What’s happened?”

There was silence for a moment, before Jake spoke. “Too much,” he mumbled so quietly that you barely heard him. “And I just… I don’t know how to fix it.” He was still lying to himself. He knew how to fix it, he was just scared of losing the persona he’d spent most of his life perfecting. He knew that he craved the closeness that you could give him, he just couldn’t ask for it.

“Hmmm…” your hum was soft. Everything about you was soft, Jake thought. It’s why you were so liberal with your love. “Well, can I help you?”

He nodded before he could stop himself. Jake risked it and finally glanced up at you. Where he was expecting judgement or pity, all he saw was empathy, kindness, and compassion. It nearly stole his breath at just how much you cared. You cared about him, even after everything. “Y-yeah. You can,” his voice cracked on the words, but he steeled himself and refused to look away.

You gave him a soft smile, watching his face carefully. Jake seemed to be at war with himself, torn between choosing what he always had or finally allowing himself what he needed. Swallowing, you spoke gently. “How can I help?”

Those four words were the breaking point for Jake who had been strong for too long. The bottle holding in all his yearning, his wishful thinking, all of it, exploded in his chest and he began to sob.

Your eyes flew wide and you immediately gathered him in your arms, turning him into your shoulder. A moment passed before you realized what you had done and you made to let go, but found that Jake had clung to your sweater as he cried.

Each tear set free something deep inside him and Jake knew that nothing would be the same after this. His grip on his feelings had slipped and here he was, sobbing into your shoulder like a child who’d lost their favourite toy. But despite the shame he felt, Jake couldn’t stop and a part of him didn’t want to. You were here, whispering soft words of comfort, your touch grounding him in a way that reminded him how long he’d been floating on his own.

His mind could only focus on the pain he was trying to purge from his body. With each sob, his resolve on his self-judgements snapped and they floated away on the river of tears he cried for the parts of him he had spent too long hiding for fear they would be stripped from him.

Then, with sudden clarity, Jake realized what he was doing. He was mourning everything he’d lost. Everything that had made little Jake Seresin who he was. The excitement of flying, loving his friends with everything he had, all of it gone to appease someone who had been gone from this world for years now. He only cried harder at the thought of his younger self watching who he was now and being disappointed, asking him why he’d stopped hugging people. Why he’d pushed away someone who loved hugs as much as he had.

His face was buried in your neck, the tears wetting your skin. He clung to you, so afraid that if he let go that you’d vanish. And when you vanished, you’d take with you your kindness, the love you spread around so easily, everything Jake knew he didn’t deserve. How could he? You were a sunbeam that had fallen from the heavens above, casting your warmth on everything and everyone you touched. You were magic to him.

Your heart broke for the man in your arms. You silently cursed the pressure he was under as a pilot and whatever rigidity in his upbringing had made it so he didn’t or couldn’t express his true feelings. It hurt to hear his sobs but you knew that this was years of pain, frustration, and anger pouring out of a narrow bottle he had tried so long to keep shut. “I’m here, Jake. Shhh, I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry, Honey.”

He felt you stiffen and pull back just a little. “Look at me Jake.” He chanced it, looking up at your beautiful face, cataloguing the fierce look in your eyes that was offset by the gentleness of your touch. “Never, never apologize for your feelings. You hear me?” Jake nodded tearfully, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “You can let go of your burden right now. I’m here for you, Jake.”

Your words only set him off again. They reminded him so much of his mother’s own and it cut him deep. She was the light in his life until somehow you’d eclipsed it. She had always given him the love he had craved and had been denied by his father, who had raised him never to express his emotions, yet he’d forgotten about anger. Mark Seresin was an angry man trapped inside the supposed standards of how a Texan man ought to be. He was needlessly hard on his boys, believing that it was his duty to ensure that every emotion had been beaten and worked out of them. He had raised his sons that crying was for babies and little girls. But he would never know how much damage had been done from his ‘tough love’. Mark Seresin would never see his sons snap under the pressure he had placed upon them and Jake was more than okay with that.

And so Jake poured that story out between tears, keeping his hands caught in the fabric of your hoodie, desperately trying to keep you close. He couldn’t have you slipping away from him, but even though he’d cried all over you, ripped open the deepest darkest parts of himself, you didn’t move except to slide backwards on the couch, settling yourself. You had cemented yourself in his life just by holding him close and Jake knew that you could never be aware of just how much that meant to him, how much he loved you for that.

You were going to stay. You held him as his sobs petered out. Held him close as he brought his breathing back to normal, and even as he tried apologizing. But you refused to hear it. “I said I wasn’t going anywhere and I meant it, Jake. Okay?” Your voice was still soft, your hand rubbing circles on his back as you both lay on his couch. He had his head pillowed on your chest, lying there despite the late hour. “You know you can talk to me, right? I meant it when I said I wouldn’t judge.”

“I know.” Jake hated how small his voice sounded, but he was so tired. Tired of the judgement he inflicted upon himself, the arbitrary scale he used to compare himself to others. He just wanted to rest and he was scared. His hard shell had been weakened under his breakdown and this was so new to him. Jake felt exposed, like he’d been stripped naked before you and left to face your judgement.

The only question was: would you still love him after this?

Jake was shaken from his thoughts when you said his name in that soft voice of yours. “What are you thinking about?”

He hummed. “How much I regret crying. I have a headache,” Jake let out a little chuckle at his words. “God, Honey, what do you think of me right now?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “I’m thinking about how strong you are, how much courage it took you to be so brave. You let your guard down and I am so proud of you for that, Jake.”

Jake’s cheeks pinked. “I might cry again if you keep that up,” he said thickly, swallowing the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

“I mean it. I am so proud of you, Jake Seresin, and I will say it as many times as I need to so it gets through your thick skull.” Your tone left no room for argument, but you were still smiling down at him, and the warmth of it washed over him like pulling a thick quilt over oneself during the deepest winter storm.

“I-I think I…” Jake trailed off, catching the end of his sentence before he could say it, before he could confess right then and there. “I have shit timing, holy fuck.”

You only raised a confused eyebrow at him. “Jake, what…?”

“I love you.”

He felt your giggle against his cheek, heard the peals of laughter go ringing through his ears. “I know, you sap. I love you too.”

“Wha- How did you know?”

“The infirmary. When you passed out a few weeks ago because you hadn’t had enough to eat, you were mumbling in your sleep. I just assumed you were calling your partner honey, but then you called me Honey Bee when you woke up and I just knew.” When Jake met your gaze, he saw your eyes full of what could only be described as the purest love. “I think I knew before you did.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Well then,” he began. “Think I should make it official then?” He’d pushed himself up onto his elbows on either side of you and smiled down at you.

You looked adorably confused under his gaze, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You hadn’t expected it so you let out a muffled squeak that made Jake chuckle against your lips when he pulled away. “Honey…”

A wide grin nearly split your face in two as you looked up at Jake hovering over you. It took nothing for you to cup his face in your hands and pull him down into yet another kiss, this one more intense, intoxicating one another on the feeling of your lips slotting together.

Jake rested his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy and those green eyes, the ones that had enchanted you from the minute you met, fell shut. “Honey. My Honey Bee…” he whispered millimeters from your lips.

“Yours,” you whispered back, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek so lightly Jake thought he’d imagined it. “I’m yours, and you’re mine, because you know that I will not be an idle partner in this relationship, mister.”

He laughed and it had never sounded so carefree to his ears. You had broken through his walls, forcing your way in with a touch so gentle Jake hadn’t seen you coming until you held his heart at your mercy and by the grace of whatever God sat in the heavens, you had breathed joy and light back into his soul. Jake was utterly devoted to you and your light, wholly captivated by you. You had remade him with laughter in his heart, reshaped his broken heart in your capable, yet gentle hands.

“-ake? Jake? Where’d you go?” Worry had seeped into your tone, your brows furrowing under the concern you felt. He’d spaced out a few times now, and while you were worried, you knew that it was likely residual doubt and his own way of trying to process the events prior. “You should go to bed, Jakey. It’s late.” Your thumb traced the ridge of his jawline, bringing him back into himself.

“Stay.” The words were out before he could stop them. “Please.”

“Okay.”

One word, and Jake knew that he’d be alright, that he was safe.

You were here to stay, his Honey Bee.

===

A/N: big thanks to Star for proofreading and telling me that this wasn’t absolute hot garbage! And for the record, this isn’t Jake’s Dagger Comfort fic. That is still in the pipeline somewhere lol

Taglist: @sarahsmi13s @startrekfangirl2233 @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @horseshoegirl @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @dakotakazansky @thedroneranger @aviatorobsessed @csmt-m

[get0sfav]

SATORU GOJO IS A GIRL DAD.....

cw; pregnancy talk, breastfeeding talk, pre-established relation, nicknames (mamma, princess), slightly suggestive at the end.

Satoru Gojo, who's filled with joy when the doctor announces that the bundle of joy growing inside you is a girl.

Satoru Gojo, who gets tears in his eyes because of how excited he is, because he can't wait to spoil his little princess.

Satoru Gojo, who starts excessively shopping for little baby dresses, sandals, shoes and what not, even getting numerous t-shirts that said dad's princess.

Satoru Gojo, who when your babygirl is born, cries on the spot, because his babygirl looks just like his favorite woman in the entire world, you. He's not even mad that she doesn't look like him, because he knows how beautiful his little girl would be, just like her mother.

Satoru Gojo, who doesn't let you pick up your little girl whenever you're not breastfeeding her. It's not that he doesn't want you to, but he's grown so emotionally attached to the 3 month old child that he can't seem to let her go.

Satoru Gojo, who squeals in excitement when the first word that comes out of your daughter's mouth is 'papa' and he swears his heart doubled the size it originally was.

"Hey baby, oh who's a fairy? Who's a fairy? Yes! you are!" Satoru is playing with your daughter, holding her up in his arms as he blows raspberries in her stomach, her small giggles filling up the entire room.

"Ha- Ha" the almost one year old girl mumbles, laughing as she tries to grip her father's white hair, who keeps on blowing raspberries on her stomach, smooching her all around. Your eyes drift from the computer screen, seeing the way your husband and your daughter interact.

"pa-papa!" She giggles as Satoru stops in his tracks, his mouth wide open, so was yours, your hand on your mouth, "papa!" she repeats again, gripping satoru's hair.

"Oh my god..." He's in shock, and you could see the look he held in his eyes even with the blindfolds on, "Oh my god did you hear that?" He looks over to you and you rush to his side, holding the girl in your hands, "Say that again baby?" The little girl giggles, as if enjoying the whole fiasco, and puts her tiny little hands on her face, before making grabby hands towards Satoru, "Papa!"

Satoru Gojo, who is overjoyed on your daughters first day of school, kissing the girl all over her face, getting her the best stationery needed and what not. He even cried a little when she was dropped at school, and he couldn't wait for her to come back to his arms.

Satoru Gojo, who goes all out for all his daughter's birthdays, but the fifth one was, well, way too much from what you expected, going overboard and renting an entire waterpark for your daughter and her friends, even a special area reserved for the parents. To say the least, Satoru becomes a fan favorite in her little friend group.

Satoru Gojo, who spoils his little daughter so much, that she needs an extra room to keep all the stuff he's bought her, and you've warned him multiple times that whatever he brings her will sir and rot away anytime he brings her the next new thing, but he doesn't listen, being the man he is.

"Satoru, I told you to stop bringing her so many things, she doesn't even use them" You sigh, closing the door of your daughter's room as the two of you walk out. Recently, he bought her a whole doll house, and now, a kitchen set, and the little girl has no idea where the doll house is anymore.

"Relax mamma, it's not like I'm going to run out of money. Plus, what am I supposed to do if not spoil my two princesses." He smirks, wrapping his arms around you, rocking you sideways and placing a kiss on your forehead. "If you're still mad though, I suppose I could spoil you too, in another way." A smirk crossed his face as you giggled at his words, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms, taking you to your joined bedroom, and carefully putting you on the bed, "I think it's time we give our little princess a sibling."

[norrisleclercf1]

OKAY BUT LISTEN A REQUEST IDEA!

Mafia! Jenson x wife where both take Logan under their wing. And when the wife reader gets hurt both Logan and Jenson grow overprotective because that's their wife and "mother".

A/N: Logie is Jenson's baby don't get me started

"Logan, would you like breakfast?" Knocking on the door you hear movement and it's thrown open the young American was exhausted and had a huge bandage on his side from last nights run.

"Do I have to eat?" He grumbles, and you sigh reaching out and smoothing his hair down. "You do darling, that way you can take your antibiotics," Logan sighs and shuffles back into his room and grabs a shirt, sliding it on carefully.

"Is he angry?" Logan asks, knowing the only reason he got injured was because he had messed up. "No baby, he's annoyed, but not at you. You're a rookie, the others should've looked after you a bit better, that's all." You comfort him and stay behind just a little in case he wobbles back and falls.

"Morning," Logan flinches hearing the anger in Jenson's tone, your eyes cast over and glare, your husband catching your glare and puts the newspaper down and clears his throat. "Are you okay buddy?" Logan sighs sitting down, his stitches itched, burned, and he wanted to cry. He let Jenson down.

"My stitches itch," He grumbles, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "It's your body healing itself, normal for wounds to itch." You explain licking your hand and fixing Logan's hair which has him grumbling but says nothing. Jenson snatches Logan's plate and the boy goes to argue but stops when he sees Jenson was plating food for him.

"Maybe you should move in here with us, hmm?" You ask, sitting down next to Jenson. "I had his stuff packed and already placed on our floor, it's being unpacked as we speak." Logan blushes and nods, knowing there was no point in arguing. "Thank you," You smile and pass Logan his meds which he happily takes.

Year later

"Boysssss! I'm going to the farmer market, do you want anything?" You yell, loud enough for them to hear you from the kitchen. You hear steps and then running down the stairs. "Think you could get me oranges?" You smile as Logan comes into view.

He's taken up training and eating better, having grown taller and wider as he worked on his muscles to become better and stronger for the team. "Of course, darling, does your dad want anything?" Logan had taken to calling you and Jenson, mom and dad about 5 months ago. "No, he says just the usual." You nod and walk past, Logan leaning over as you kiss his cheek.

"Alright, be back," "In an hour, we know. Just be careful Mom." Logan smiles and runs back up the stairs to join Jenson in watching some race. Shaking your head you head out and make the walk to the market.

Jenson hated when you walked, considering who he was, and how people knew your face, and knew they could go after you to get to him. Smiling at some of the locals you head to some of your favorite stands. "Good morning Mrs. Button, hows that sweet boy of yours?" A sweet older lady named Mrs. Watts, loved Logan as he'd come out here and help you and sometimes stick around and help her with her stand.

"Oh he's good, you know always a gentleman." You smile and picking up some fresh oranges, turning you don't see them coming until some teens run into you, which has you falling and hitting your head.

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

"Where's my mom?" You sigh as does the ER doctor bandaging up your wrist. "Logan!" You call gently, not wanting to raise your voice, since you have a pretty good concussion. "Mom!" Logan sighs, and pushes the doctor gently and hugs you, taking a deep breath. Jenson skids in and stops seeing you and moves gathering both you and Logan into his arms.

"What the hell happened, who did this to you?" Jenson asks, you giggle seeing as he was ready to start a war. "it was just those stupid kids, they didn't see me and ran into me on their skateboards. Fell and hit my head, sprained my wrist." You explain and Jenson sighs but you can still see he was antsy.

"She really is okay, Mr. Button. You and your son don't have to worry," The doctor tries to explain but Logan refuses to move from your side, lying his head on your shoulder. "Should've gone with you today," Logan whispers and you smile, kissing the crown of his hair. "I'm okay, really you two." Jenson sighs and moves again, hugging you both.