#complete with her always smiling and saying: best uncle ever

[dilf-docs]

From This Time, Unchained

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: joel doesn't know why, of all the people in jackson, you've chosen him.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), BIG age gap (20s/60s) (does it look like igaf), smut, begging kink, praise kink, oral (f. receiving), breast play, dacryphilia, hurt/comfort, soft!joel, insecure!joel, fluff bc my dying man deserves it💔 #joelmillerapologistclub

word count: 8,554 words

side note: joel miller widow club where u at??? i wish i could write a fix-it fic but my heart is too heavy even after a week lol and my ass too people pleaser-ish to write allat. (i haven't seen last night's ep yet bc this weekend has been ass!!) so, instead, have this piece because peepaw deserves love and a good fuck with his glasses on! (shout out to my joel miller playlist, u saved me girl) (also girl why did i battle with this like for four days lmaoooo not me posting it 9 seconds before midnight)

Joel Miller is a busy man.

All of Jackson seems to need him. Be it his neighbours, with a broken faucet or be the council, for his skills in construction, or even Maria and Tommy, when they wanted some time alone and he got to be the fun uncle for a couple of hours. Even Ellie, who didn't need him, as she liked to remind him, yet he still found himself in her garage, where she moved despite his reluctance, dusting off shelves or the forgotten guitar in a corner, all to feel useful for the one who he cared for the most.

That spot was debatable, thought. There was his brother, his niece, maybe Maria, Ellie, recently Dina and well, you.

You. Sweet you. Town's favorite girl. A complete dream. The girl next door embodied. Looks that aim to kill. It killed him. So damn perfect he can't help but wonder why, of all Jackson, you'd choose brooding old Joel Miller.

The one you'd give your smiles to, because even if you shared it to the world, your reserved your best for him only. His patrol partner, the beauty of the snowed-in landscape barely rivaling your own. Who you'd give your hours, always appearing when he needed you most, eyes open wide with that shine of theirs it was impossible to resist, not to trust. He had been a faithless man for too long, wandering in the dark. Eyes closed. Then came Ellie, and it was gone, coming back the days when Sarah was his babygirl. But it returned when she pushed him away, but you had stepped in, not as a replacement but as an oath. Something to hold on.

To believe.

In anything. In you. In the us, silent but strong. Watchful, like the stars shinning above in the sky, twinkling as the sound of your laugh when you and him would watch them, sitting on his roof. He let this things happen, let his guard down and allowed himself to be childish and soft, even if his joints ached when he got up and he could fall. But you were there, and falling... It didn't sound bad.

(He knew you'd be there to catch him, anyway. Even if you weren't that strong and he wasn't exactly... well, featherweight)

Right now, he's working. Not for Jackson, but or you. Furrowed brow and shoulders slumped over his table at the workshop, concentrated, his glasses perched on his nose. He hates them, another reminder of the time passed by, yet there's no option. At least not if he wants to give you the very best.

Ah, yes. His latest project. A little wood carving. Doesn't have a shape yet, like your relationship. He chuckles to himself, feeling silly. What where labels anymore in this world, anyway? Still, he can't fanthom the nature of it. It sounded more like a perverted old man's fantasy, if he's being honest, the glances thrown his way from townsfolk a little cruel reminder. You're no good, you'd jokingly sing that one song and, despite the judgment, he'd smile. For you, anything.

Like the figurine. Joel finally sees it take shape. And then there's a knock in the door. Sharp. Same as yesterday, and as the year before ever since he's had you like this.

"Come in" he says, not looking up as you enter.

He's too focused, voice sounding gruff for the long hours of silence since he sat down with an idea in mind; pounding heart, trembling hands.

"Hey, Joel"

He takes his glasses off, placing them on the table, before standing up to greet you. He crosses the short distance and wraps his arms around you in a tender hug, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He smells like wood and sweat. His musk lingers, so does his tight embrace. As if you'd dissappear if he didn't.

"Missed ya', sweet girl" he mumbles, voice muffled.

You giggle a bit. "I was gone for an hour. Are you getting clingy on me, Miller?"

You loved to tease him. Bad habit of yours. He lets out a low chuckle that rumbles on his chest and against your skin. He pulls back from the hug, yet his arms now drop to your waist, because he's addicted to keeping you close.

"Too damn long" he protests, carrying his southern accent within.

"I love when that Texan drawl slips in" you sigh, poking his cheek. He leans into your touch, like a touch-starved puppy. You then look at him, pouting your lips with a small frown. "Hey, and your glasses?"

"Huh?" he looks at the pair, sitting on the table. Forgotten. "Over'ere. For?"

You shrug. Joel shoots you a suspicious look. "Darlin', why you so interested in my glasses?"

You avert his gaze. The floor is more interesting now.

"Honey... Look at me. S'okay if you don't wanna-"

"I like how you look when you wear them" you finally blurt out, too fast and too quiet.

He's taken back by that. Eyes wide, probably written all over his face. Yet you refuse to look at him. He tips your chin up, so you can meet his gaze. It's soft, making your legs wobbly.

"Is that so?" he asks, teasingly. He still can't believe you actually like them. "You like when old men wear them glasses, baby?"

"Hhm, yeah" you hum. "More if it's you"

His heart skips a beat at your response. Fuck. He's gone soft, too soft. He feels his face heat up, chuckling in an attempt to cover it. Then, runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the base of his neck, a tell-tale sign he's feeling awkward. Flustered, even.

"You gon' give me a heart attack, honey. 'M too old for ya' to say things like that"

"Aw, old man can't take a compliment?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. Then, you stand up on your tiptoes to whisper on his ear. "You're cute when you blush"

Joel's sure his face has gone redder, breath hitching as well. Still, he manages to put his arms around your waist, holding you close.

"You're real bad" he grumbles, though there's no bite on his tone. He hides his face again in the crook of your neck. "And I'm not blushing"

You giggle, patting his head lightly as your fingers trace his now long hair. If it didn't drive you wild...

"Then stop hiding"

Joel relaxes under your touch. "You're trouble. I'm serious 'bout the heart attack"

"No" you exaggerate, rocking him slightly. "Don't die"

He looks up at you, smirking as he groans with fake annoyance.

"If you keep that up, I might do"

"Then who will I bore with my failed recipes and gossip?"

"Thankfully, not me"

You groan. "Oh, shut up you old man"

You're always calling him that. Not that he minds, he knows you're not doing it with malice, but sometimes it annoys him. For example, today.

"Well, you chose 'tis old man so don't go complainin', honey"

You huff. "Unfortunately, I love this old man with his old-man ways. Like your woodcarving"

After saying so, you take a small peek over his figure, still drapped over your chest and neck, to the table behind. "Speaking of, can I see what you're doing?"

He looks back, where he's left the figurine unnattended after your arrival. Lets go of you, taking a step back so you get a better look.

"Sure, darlin'. Go'head"

Joel thinks he's good at hiding the nervousness in his voice as you approach the table. He crosses and uncrosses his arms, anxiously.

"Your glasses" almost in a reflex, passing them to him before seeing what's on the table. "Can you wear them, Joel? Pretty please"

He takes the glasses from your hands, fingers brushing. It may be that or your request that make his heart jump. You can see some hesitation on him before he puts them on. Looking down at you, smirking, Joel smiles.

"There ya' go, sweet girl. Happy now?" he asks, a hint of huskiness in his voice.

"So much better" you tap them lightly, "and so is your vision"

Joel let's out a small chuckle, grinning like a fool. Honestly, he loves the attention.

(He's never going to admit it out loud, though)

"You do know how'da flatter an old man, huh"

You smirk, moving to the table again. "Oh, I love flattering him. Now, show me what you're working on"

There's a block of wood on the center. Cut sharp. Perfectly. He's been obssesive with it, maybe. There's a sketch, and the figurine only has been carved at the bottom, where a tail begins to take shape.

"I know am not an artist, but I tried"

You remain silent, making him a little nervous.

"S'a deer" he explains, gruffly, looking into your eyes for a reaction.

"A deer? Like, Bambi?" you ask in awe, softly tracing the wood. Your words get stuck, like honey. Sweet but sticky. "Joel..."

His heart swells a bit at your tone, expression soft as he recognizes admiration in your tone.

"Yeah, like damn Bambi" he murmurs, hands itchy. First, he shoves them on his pockets, just to take them out and place them on his hips instead, his jacket now open, the silhoutte of his tummy under his shirt showing, the flannel stretched on the middle. He watches you closel as you face him again.

"Is it- Is it for me?" you ask in that voice that, goddamn it, makes Joel want to give you the whole world if he could.

He slowly nods, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Yeah" he admits, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "S' for ya"

Then looks away, feeling vulnerable for some reason. But your lips quiver, and before he can register, you throw yourself at him, hands around his neck, body practically swinging. He stumbles a bit, yet manages to catch you alright.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you gush, peppering his cheek with kisses. "I know it's not even done but, wow. Thank you, Joel!" an adorable squeal leaves your mouth, and as soon as that is out, your lips find his to leave a sweet kiss on his mouth. When you calm down, your voice goes soft. "It's... No one had ever done something like this for me"

He's clearly taken by surprise by your affection outburst, his heart swelling at your reaction and giddyness. He's also a bit overwhelmed, kissed cheeks now a pretty flushed pink. There's something so warm and fond on his eyes as he looks down on you, cupping your cheek after your final kiss.

"S'nothin', sweet girl. You're welcome"

"You're so special, Joel. Did you know that?" you whisper, leaning into his touch while closing your eyes.

Good. He's probably a mess right now, his heart clenching on his chest, a mix of emotions washing over him. God, he hates getting compliments, but yours always stirred things he long ago thought dead.

"Special, huh?" he grumbles while sporting a half-smile. "I reckon that's you"

You smirk. "We can both be special, then. There's always room for two"

He runs his thumb over your cheek, chuckling a bit. "Deal. But you're a bit more"

"Oh, you want to compete?" you tease.

He smirks at the challenge, pulling you closer with a tight arm around your waist.

"Damn right I do. Y'know I like winnin'. 'Sides, 'm more than willin' to play if it means ya' get competitive 's well. You're cute when you challenge me, baby"

You feign hurt. "I'm always cute, how dare you"

"Oh, forgive me" he chuckles. "At this age I tend to forget"

"Don't worry. I'll beat your ass so bad, you won't forget it"

He archs an eyebrow, amused. "Now you abuse the elder? Bad girl"

Your face flushes and core pulses.

"I can be a bit of a brat if I want to" you tease, fingers roaming over his warm chest. "Will you punish me for that?"

Joel's eyes darken on an instant. There's a shadow of desire coating his brown when a low rumble escapes his throat. The air feels charged with a new found tension suddenly.

"Careful, sweet girl. You ain't know what you playin'"

He closes the gap between you, his body pressing against yours. His hands move from your waist to grip your hips, holding you against him.

"You're quite mouthy tonight, aren't 'cha?" he growls, his voice carrying a rough edge.

"Just to get what I want. Besides, your little project tug at my hearstrings" you quip. "And something else"

"Oh, yeah? You gon' tell me what's that?"

You smirk. "What do you think it is?"

He hums. "I'd rather hear you say it"

"That's not fair" you pout your lips.

He chuckles, "Nothin' ever is fair, I reckon. But you're a troublesome little thing, ain't ya'?"

You send him a little flirtatious wink.

"I am looking for some trouble tonight"

He's not amused by your words. You're a greedy insatiable little thing sometimes. So far, Joel's been able to deflect all of your attempts. The farthest you'd ever made it was when you straddled his lap on the old couch of his workshop, and even then, he limited his reactions to grunts and seeing you come. God. It had been tortuous waiting for you to go so he could piston his aching cock to the memory of your little sounds.

"Ain't that interesting?"

"Oh, but it is" you're quick to counter, "and I take you and your little friend are into it"

His breath hitches, eyes and cheeks burning alike with intensity. The heat travels down his spine, straight to his throbbing dick, the reason he's been caught red-handed.

"You surely are looking for trouble" his voice reduced to a rough gasp.

Joel's struggling to maintain the control he so prided himself in, you not making it any easier with your teasing. "Y'a temptress, doll. Know that?"

"Is my magic working?" you ask, batting your eyelashes.

He's resolve is quickly crumbling, self-control tossed to the bin in the corner. Joel loves as much as he hates your big innocent yet teasing eyes. No wonder he was carving you out a deer.

"Damnit, sweet girl. Y'know it's. You gettin' me all worked up in'ere"

"Take me upstairs, then. I'm sure we can find a solution"

He can feel the heat radiating off of you, eyes darkening at the invitation.

"Doll, you're playing with fire here" he warns, despite the obvious effect your words are having on him.

"It's fine. I don't mind the burn"

He knows he's done, Joel's growl an indicator of his control snapping completely.

"Damn it" he mutters before his lips crash against yours. It's heated. Desperate. His hands grip your hips, holding you tighlty against him while he devours your mouth like a starved man, as if you didn't kiss just this morning, before going on your patrol.

You moan into the kiss, Joel swallowing your sounds as if they were his own. Fuck. His mind goes fuzzy when you grab his face with both of your hands, deepening the kiss. He thinks he's backed you against a wall, by the small Thud sound. He's lost: on the way your lips move, on the way they taste, in the sounds they make.

You pull out first. Joel thinks you belong in a museum: with your lips, swollen and parted. It's too your dilatated eyes and chest, rising and falling. He can't resist and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingers tenderly brushing your soft skin.

"Aren't you the prettiest man in Jackson?" you blurt out, adoring.

He's not used to being praised like this. Not even by you, even after months of doing so. Always feels like the first time. And then, he feels stupid: for blushing too much, heart skipping too many beats, chest clenching too hard. Like a damn highschooler. Joel's as embarrassed as content that you make him feel all sort of ways.

"Easy, sugar" he mutters, voice gruff. "You gon' give 'tis old man an ego"

"No need to blame me when you can look at yourself in the mirror" you're quick to reply. "I believe that's enough reason to give you some ego"

He's smirking at your response. Yeah, he definitely loves when you stroke his ego. Especially as of late, where he feels... rather, old.

"Oh. Oh" you begin to tease through giggles, playfully hitting his chest. He huffs, catching where this is going. "Do you like it when I call you pretty?"

Joel's cheeks flush a little at your question, his stoic nature faltering a bit at your teasing.

"Maybe" he mumbles, eyes avoiding yours. "But don't let it get to your head, doll"

"Too late" you murmur, wrapping once more your hands on his neck. "You're pretty, Joel. Especially when you flush"

Pretty isn't exactly a word he'd used to describe himself. But when you call him pretty, out of that sweet mouth of yours, his name along as well? You can call him however the fuck you want.

He can feel his body reek out vulnerability, and he hates himself a bit for getting weaker. He tried, really did, but his walls had been down for a while. His defenses had crumbled. He was pathetic, lonely, and sad. Yet here you were, looking at him with your big adoring eyes like he was the only thing that mattered. Joel lets your words sink for a moment, letting out a small sigh, not being able to deny it feels good. Maybe it does matter.

"You're too damn sweet, sugar. Y'know that?" he mutters, finger tracing lightly your hip.

You smile, sickenly saccharine. "I'm aware. Trust me, I have a cute grumpy boyfriend to remind me so"

His expression softens even more at your easy loving. He's so fucking putty in your hands, Tommy would laugh in his face.

"Y'got me wrapped 'round your damn finger, sweet girl" Joel whispers in his usual gruff voice, but it's laced with affection.

You raise a finger, moving it in front of his face like one would with a bone and a dog.

"You mean this?"

Joel watches your finger with amused eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. It scares and excites him how easy it's to fall under your spell. With soft movements, he reaches and captures your hand, bringing it to his mouth. He then presses a gentle kiss to your finger, eyes never leaving yours.

"Yeah, doll. This one" his voice is husky, "All of 'em. Y' got me good"

You gulp under the intensity of his gaze. "Don't do that..."

He smirks at your reaction, finally feeling like he has some leverage. He raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes as he holds you even closer, your chest pressing against his. You even feel the soft curve of his stomach over your own.

"Don't do what?" he asks, playing coy. "We're not backin' down now, are we, sugar?"

At your lack of answer, cheeks bright, he huffs, hand moving to gently cup your chin. Joel's brown eyes lock with yours when he speaks again.

"So, what now? Or did y' just come by to check up on your ol' man?"

"No. That's not what I want"

His smirk grows as the dark shade on his eyes. He's not dumb, of course he knows what you want. Just wants to hear you say it.

"What'da ya' want, then?"

You pout your lips, whining.

"Joel... Just give me what I want"

He leans in a bit closer, voice gruff and filled with desire. His thumb strokes your chin softly.

"Depends" he grumbles. "You gon' ask nicely?"

"On my very best behavior" you raise your hand, "I swear it"

He smirks, letting go of your face. "Good girl"

You stand on your tiptoes, leaning against his ear. His heart skips a beat, a small shiver running down his spine at your lips ghosting his skin.

"I am" you kiss his earlobe. "For you. Just you" you leave a little bite on it. A low rumble escapes his throat. You lick the red little spot to soothe it. "Your best girl"

"My only girl" he's quick to reply. You're up in the air in a minute, his hands supporting you as he carries you, your legs dangling at his sides. It amazed you how strong he continued to be, despite his age. Strong men make good times, you suppose.

You giggle a bit. "Oh, Joel. I'm so lucky"

His heart races at your words. All this banter fills him with a warm fondness, making him feel young again.

"I reckon that's me, doll"

Your noses brush after his comment, in silence. You close your eyes, as so does he. You break the aphony first.

"Joel"

"Yes?"

"I want you to have me"

Joel's heart skips a beat at your words, his chest swelling with a mixture of emotion. No one has ever spoken to him with such tenderness, even with what your request implies. It's overwhelming.

"Ya' want me?" he asks gruffly, his voice hoarse with desire and emotion.

Fuck. It's happening. What he avoided so badly, but right now? His mind has gone blank, and when it starts working again, it's filled with lewd images of sweet you. Jesus. If he had doubts he was going to hell before, now he's certain. At least, he got heaven on Earth with you.

"Y' sure 'bout that, sugar?" he asks gruffly, his voice husky. "You're so damn young, deserve someone better"

You nod, slowly, caressing his cheek, your voice just barely above a whisper.

"I've never been more sure"

He takes a small moment to gather himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He's suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable, and it scares him as much as it excites him.

"I mean, would've I done all this if I didn't?"

Joel lets out a small laugh. "You little devious minx. I'll give ya' that"

"Give me what?" you tease.

His lips crash into yours as your hands find his face, holding as you deepen the kiss. His fingers dig in your thighs, making you moan and a spark of electricity run through his spine. He lets out a low moan in response to yours, pulling away from your lips momentarily, his eyes darkening with want. Joel looks at you for a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

He lets out a low rumble, his voice gruff and rough.

"Yeah" he mutters. "Keep talkin' like that, and you'll get more than a kiss"

"So, I'll keep talking then"

"Y' little brat" he grumbles, voice dripping with frustration. "If ya' don't stop, I'm gonna..."

Joel trails off, his eyes dark with promises left unspoken.

"Say it" you challenge. "Or are you backing down?"

He takes a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of self control, despite loving your teasing and how it's driving him wild. He lets out a small laugh, his mind swirling with desire and frustration.

"Y' gon' pay for that later, darlin'" he threatens gruffly, his eyes locked on yours.

"How about now?"

Joel's heart skips a beat at your question, the idea sending a surge of desire through him. He can feel his self-control slipping away, your words pushing him closer to the edge.

He lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his hand tightening around your chin. His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of desire and anticipation in them.

"Sure you wanna know, doll?" he asks gruffly, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.

"All of it" too eager. He can't help but smile, resolve unraveling. "Don't spare any details"

"And you gon' be a good girl?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"Didn't I promise so?"

Those simple words are all it takes for Joel's resolve to finally crumble. Fuck what other people think. Fuck his own fears. He can't resist you any longer, the desire within him reaching boiling point.

"Shit, doll" he rasps, voice rough. "With words like that I'm just gon' give y'anythin' you want"

"Please, Joel" you utter his name in a little whimper.

"Please what?"

Loves to see you beg. Has imagined you squirming, like you did when his fingers would drift too close to your aching cunt. Straddling feels so stupid now, when he could've have sweet you like this a long ago.

"Fuck me"

The sound of your whimper goes straight to Joel's throbbing dick. He's completely undone, powerless against your desires.

"That's right, good girl" he rasps, his voice gruff and rough. You let a little whimper at the praise. "I'll give y'anythin' you want, angel"

He carries you upstairs while you giggle at his huffs, teasing him when his knees creak like the old wooden stairs. Still, he insists on carrying you when you offer to walk, maybe trying to prove his strength to you or something. When his face turns a deep shade of red, you can't tell if it's out of shame or effort.

"Taking me to your bed? I've never seen your bedroom" you muse out loud, once he reaches the final stair.

Despite the intensity of the moment, a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"There's always a first" he rasps.

Your nose brushes against his cheek. "Can't wait"

The door opens when Joel kicks it lightly. It's very him, you think, as soon as it comes on view. There's a guitar in the corner, you notice too.

"It's very you" you say out loud now. He drops you on the bed, making you giggle. "It's simple and cozy"

He's still trying to calm his racing heart, but it's difficult when he's hovering over you, so close to your body, he can feel the heat of it. Can even smell your arousal in the air.

"'M not sure simple's a nice thing t' say 'bout someone"

For a moment, the room goes quiet. He hesitates to continue.

"There's just... somethin' I need to discuss with ya' before we get carried 'way"

Your doe eyes look up to him. "Yes?"

Joel takes a deep breath.

"I've... It's been a while, y'know, since... I'm just used to bein' alone. In that sense. And I... I haven't been with someone in a long time"

His voice trails off, a vulnerability settling in his expression.

"Joel..." you whisper, sitting as he backs up a bit.

"'M not good with people" he admits gruffly. "I tend to scare 'em off"

You extend your hand to softly trace over his stubble. Joel leans into your touch, his expression softening, your presence providing a sense of comfort. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

"You're not scaring me. I'm here"

His mouth tastes like sand when he swallows.

"Yeah, but I-"

"Yes?"

He pauses for a moment, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"'M not exactly young anymore, sugar"

"And what's bad about not being young?" you look at him, voice soft. "Are you afraid your knees will crack when you go down on me or what?"

He lets out a clipped laugh. The tension in the room lightens a little, and he's grateful for your attempt to lighten the mood.

"Oh, very funny, sweetheart." he grumbles, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And no, 's not that. I can eat ya' just fine" Joel spits, making you laugh at his cocky demeanor. But then he goes quiet again. "It's just... 'M not as young and good lookin' as I used to be" he finally blurts out.

Why is he even saying this things out loud. He didn't care before. He thought about himself better before. Yeah, before. What is it about the now that he cares, worse, admits out loud his insecurities?

Your expression morphs into one of sympathy. God, he hates it. Looks away from your warmth and pity. No, not pity. Compassion, like Joel was some sort of wounded old dog.

"Joel" you close the distance, tracing his face tenderly, drawing little heart shapes over his stubble. "That's not true. You're as handsome as back in the day, baby. I didn't meet you then, I know that, and this may be biased, but I'll choose the old you always, my pretty boy"

Joel's heart skips a beat at your words, his expression softening even more. He's not used to such tender affection, and it's overwhelming.

He takes a moment to process your words, his eyes never leaving yours. He can see the sincerity in your eyes, and it touches him more than he can express. Words were never his thing, anyway.

"Y/n" he mutters gruffly, his voice rough with emotion. He even used your name. "You're too good fo' me"

"I just... I think it's because I love you"

He's taken back, almost falling in top of you, yet quickly regaining his posture. Still, his heart jumps into his throat, dangerously close to falling out from his mouth at your sudden confession.

It's been almost a year of being his and him being yours, yet those three words hadn't even been close to being said. Joel never thought he'd get to hear them again from the lips of a lover. Yet here you were, so damn young and sweet, letting them roll off your tongue in a soft echo of your loving. Safe. Like a home. You were his home.

He looks at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and vulnerability.

"Y'... Y' love me?" his voice rasping a bit as he questions you.

"It's okay if you don't say it back" you laugh quietly, probably to make him feel better. Always thinking about the others, you pure thing.

He looks you in the eye, his hand still cupping your cheek. There's a warm tenderness in his expression, despite his gruff tone.

"No. Don't think that" he goes quiet for a moment, as if the weight of your declaration was sinking him. He lets out a shaky breath, as if unsure if the world around him was real, his eyes locked on yours. "I... love you too"

Your eyes widen, a smile appearing instantly on your face as it lights up. His heart swells immediately at the sight of your happiness, and all he wishes for is to see it everyday. When he wakes up, to be first, and when he goes to sleep, your face the last thing to see. To be there, even as he closes his eyes and dozes off to sleep. Your giddy giggles are so fucking contagious, a rebellious smile creeps up his lips.

"You do?"

His chest tightens, vulnerable. Filled with an affection never known before.

"Yeah, sweet girl" he mutters gruffly. "I do. I love you"

Your smile is probably the most beautiful thing in the world, pleased and vicious like a cat's.

"Now, if you love me so dearly as you say, please" your lips part in a shaky breath, "have me"

So damn impatient. He may have spoiled you too much.

"Ya' want me t' have ya', honey?" he asks gruffly, his voice rough with desire as his hands slide down your thighs, tainting untouched skin.

You squirm, nodding eagerly. "Please. I want you so bad it hurts"

His voice, so soft and low, may have passed as a grunt. But you saw. Heard. Noticed. Like the way his face frowned, eyebrows furrowed as if you just told him you were sick. As if he wanted to be the cure to the disease he gave you.

"Tell me where it hurts"

Demanding in a tender way. Almost benevolent. Not even hurting you, but wanted to take every pain of yours away. You didn't deserve not even a scratch of this angry dirty world ruining your soft heart.

You point to the middle of your legs, parting them slowly open. His eyes turn glassy as he tugs your jeans down, and the first sight he gets, is your underwear, damp with your sticky arousal. He gulps, eyes darkening with desire.

"Please. There" you whimper.

"I've got eyes" Joel lets out a small, gruff chuckle. "You're impatient, know that?"

He cups your chin, eyes locked on yours. His breath is shallow, voice raspy and low.

"Don't worry. Lemme help"

He places himself in between your legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties.

"Gon' show ya' what'a man with experience has to offer, al'ight? Now, spread y'r legs open for me" he commands softly. "Lemme see that beautiful, needy cunt"

He pulls your panties down, his throat dry when he peels the drenched fabric down your legs, revealing glistening folds. He can see how swollen and puffy they were. The sight makes his mouth water and his cock pulse with desire.

Joel lowers his head, knees and bed creaking, inhaling the sweet intoxicating smell of your arousal, his facial hear ghosting over your trembling skin until it tickles. Your nervous giggling get stuck in your throat when Joel buries his face between your thighs, tongue delving into your slick folds to lap up the sweet nectar that dripped from your cunt. He groans at the taste, as if savoring the best meal to exist on Earth.

"So sweet" he growls, voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His mouth latches onto your clit, suckling the throbbing needy bud as his tongue flicks over it. "Too damn sweet"

It still hurts. It's across your face.

"Gon' help with 'tis. Just wait" he thrusts two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, pumping them in and out, curling them to stroke a spot that reduces you to a quiet muffled mess. "S' right, sugar" he praises. "Wanna see you come f' y'r old man"

The feeling of having you here, so needy and responsive, is doing things to him. Joel's lost on the way you beg, his name out of your parted lips in a secretive manner, as if reinforcing the nature of your desires and needs. How this moment was only yours, a whole new world past his door, creeping up the sweaty sheets, making way to his lonley heart, poisoned by the infectious warmth of your own.

He could feel your thighs trembling around his head, cute cries and whimpers serving as a motivation to bring you to the edge. Joel devours you, sucking like a starved man, flicking and lashing at your gushing cunt mercilessly with his tongue. It's experience, he made damn sure you knew about that. He also pumps his fingers faster, plunging deeper into your clutching heat.

"Come on, doll" he urges, voice a low rumble against your sex, "wanna feel 'tis tight little pussy spasm 'round ma' fingers"

"Joel!" you moan out loud, hands clawing into his arms for support.

He can feel your body tensing, your tight walls fluttering around the digits plunging in and out of you. Joel knew you were close, so he sucks your clit with fervent intensity as he curled his fingers just right, stroking that special spot that made your toes curl.

"That's it, y/n" he growls, eyes flashing up to meet yours, dark and intense with lust. "Drench me, y' sweet thing"

With a keening cry, you feel your body burst. Your back archs as your body quakes and shudders, your orgasm washing over you. Joel feels your pussy clench and spasm around his fingers, hot liquid gushing out to coat his hand and drip down his wrist.

Joel's a gentleman, languidly licking and suckling as you ride out of your high. Once your breathing slows, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to clean off your essence. He meets your gaze, eyes hooded with the same hunger as your own.

"Like I said" he praises softly, making your spent cunt throb. "You're too damn sweet, sugar"

You giggle. "You're insane"

He leans in, planting a soft fluttering kiss to your quivering lips.

"Just f' ya'"

There's only one thing left to do. You know. He knows. You both know. But the way he takes in your pause, as if you're going to discover the most powerful secret, makes you believe there is so much more. His expression turns curious at your deliberate choice of aphony.

"Tell me what ya' want now. I could give ya' the world if 's what ya' want"

You avoid his gaze, playing with the collar of his flannel.

"I need you"

He lets out a clipped chuckle. "That I know, dirty one"

You roll your eyes, playfully.

"We're both aware. But it's not that, it's just..."

"Yes?"

"Can I see you, please?"

His eyes meet your expectant ones. His voice is gruff but soft, his desire for you mixing with a hint of vulnerability.

"Y' wanna see me?"

You nod as he gulps harshly, mouth tasting like sand.

"Can I take off your clothes?"

Joel's heart skips a beat again at your request, a mix of desire and vulnerability warring within him. It's too revealing and intimate, but God knows he just wants to give you all you want.

There's a hint of huskiness to his vulnerable voice. Unsure.

"Yeah" a beat. "You can"

You start unbuttoning slowly, licking your lips with eager trembling hands and pupils blown wide. Like a child on Christmas, knowing they're opening what they asked for. What they wanted. What they wrote at the top of their list. Your slow, deliberate unbuttoning has him practically holding his breath.

"Joel..." you bite your lip, removing his final button. Finally. "You're...."

Joel's heart stammers at the sight of your eyes on him, your obvious desire heightening his own. Yet, he avoids your stare as you reveal his bare chest, pose faltering a bit as if his strength succumbs to your hungry stare. He gulps under the intensity gaze, feeling so fucking vulnerable. It shakes him to his core, foreign to all this fuzzy things that make him sick.

He watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, his voice gruff and raw.

"Yeah…?"

"Perfect" you whisper out loud, his whole world crumbling down.

Joel's heart skips a beat at your words, his chest tightening with a mix of vulnerability and affection. Despite it, he feels self-conscious.

"Perfect…?" he teases, a hint of a dumb smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah" you hum. "So pretty"

A word that doesn't fit in Joel's world. Feels off-putting. He has never been called such, but once it falls past your lips, coated in adoration, it feels as if it's the only truth ever. His heart skips another beat, body responding to your words.

You can tell he can't believe you're saying those words about him by the hint of disbelief in his eyes.

"Joel"

He lets out a gruff huff in response.

"Look at me"

"Pretty" Joel repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't you believe me?"

Joel's heart skips another beat, the vulnerability growing stronger. He's still not used to hearing compliments about his body by you, by anyone at all. It's making his head spin a little.

He can't quite meet your eyes as he responds.

"Take it easy on me, sweet girl. I ain't exactly in m' prime"

"Joel. Look at me" your voice a little firmer this time.

Joel takes a moment, his heart racing. He can't resist your plea, even if he hates feeling vulnerable. Slowly, he meets your eyes.

His voice is almost quiet. "I'm lookin'"

"Good. Do you want me to know what I'm looking at?" you extend your hand to reach his face, brushing a strand of hair that's fallen to his forehead. "Your greys" then, you tug his bottom lip down, "your lips", you circle the wrinkles around his eyes, "your warm eyes" and afterwards, your fingers dwindle on his nose, "just... all of your face: scars, spots and wrinkles. It leaves me breathless"

Joel's heart races as you speak, your words sinking in. He feels seen, in a way he's rarely felt before. Its messing with his mind.

"You describin' what you seein'?" his voice hoarse with emotion. It sounds far away, as if it didn't belong to him.

His lips part as your hand moves down, grazing his neck and his chest before landing on his belly. The sincerity in your eyes is making him feel even more vulnerable, and Joel can feel himself crumbling under your intense stare and firm hands.

"No, I'm describing what I love"

He looks at you, eyes filled with vulnerability and uncertainty.

"Y/n"

It was like being peeled, layer by layer. He hated how he was built now. Rough. Too sharp around edges. Soft on ones he wished he wasn't.

"All of you"

He chuckles, but it's a defeated dying sound. Almost bitter.

"That's impossible, honey"

"What's impossible is not to love all of you"

He gulps, throat raw but unable to say anything.

"Please. Let me love you"

As if he hadn't already hand you his soul. Swallowed all of your words with a feverish desperation, placed them inside a space that had gone cold with time, now feeling like a warm home where he finally belonged.

"My sweet girl..."

You feel Joel pressing you up against the mattress, his bigger body pinning you in place with a hunger that takes your breath away. His hands are everywhere, roaming over your naked curves with a fevered intensity, a low growl of frustration escaping his lips when you break the kiss to take some air.

"You can do with me anything you want"

Joel's breath stops. With a trembling but sure hand, he reaches out, his calloused fingers skimming over the swell of your breasts, teasing the sensitive flesh until your nipples strain against the cloth of your bra. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel the hard length of him pressing insistently against your stomach.

Joel leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers. 

"Anythin'?" he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire as you nod, desperate. 

But then, he's laughing, as if pleased with your eagerness. Amused.

"That much? Oh, baby, you that desperate for 'tis ol' man? That bad you want me?"

You whine, at loss for words, the throb too painful to think straight. Joel laughs again, but it's devoid of malice.

"No, don't just nod. I wanna hear you say it, y/n. Wanna hear ya' beg fo' me like the desperate sweet little thin' y'are"

You've never been one for begging, but something about the way he's looking at you, the raw, unbridled hunger in his eyes, makes you want to give him everything he wants and more.

"Please, Joel" you breathe, voice reduced to a needy tremor, "I need you so bad, Joel, please. I need you inside me. I want you filling me, claiming me, in every way possible"

"My sweet girl" he coos, followed by a flurry of heated kisses and desperate groping. You barely have a chance to catch your breath before he's pressing you up with more insistence, his body pinning you in place with a hunger that leaves you desperately aching for more. "S'pretty"

Joel's eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of you, drinking in every inch of your glistening skin. He smirks at the desperation written all over your face, something wicked and tender circling inside his brown eyes.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers huskily. "Ts' it, doll. Keep on beggin'. Lemme hear how much y' need ma' cock 'nside 'tis tight little cunt"

You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily as you feel his fingers slide down to brush against your sensitive clit, a wave of arousal coursing through you.

"Please, please, please, Joel" you whimper, your voice high and needy as you grind yourself shamelessly against his hand. "I'm so wet for you. Please, I'm begging you, make me yours"

He growls. "S'eager, huh? Who would've thought ya' were such'a dirty girl for 'tis ol' dick? Just had ya' bein' all lovey dovey a second ago and now y'are beggin' fo' me to ruin 'tis pretty pussy, baby?"

He quickly sheds what's left of his clothes, revealing to your wide eyes the thick, hard length of his cock, springing free and bobbing heavily against his soft belly. Alright, you had some thoughts about dating a much older man, even if Joel seemed the type of guy to be doted, given his energy. You're glad to be proven wrong in the very best way.

"Fuck, Joel" you breathe, licking your lips as you imagine the taste of him on your tongue. "You're so big"

His cheeks color a pretty pink, sweat beads adorning his forehead. The heat of his body envelopes you like a furnace.

"Now I truly believe ya' like what ya' seein'" he chuckles, "such'a greedy little thing" a beat. "S' fucken hungry for ma' cock. Don't worry, baby. 'M gon' give it to you, nice and slow, until you're screamin' fo' me to let you come"

Joel settles between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, effectively swallowing your needy whimpers.

"M' gon' take real good care of what's mine" in that southern drawl that drives you crazy. Hungry. Poisoned with a ravenous desire to possess every inch he can reach of your body. For everyone to see. Know. For all the prying stares. Judgeful. To appreciate in secret under the watchful gaze of the weak sunrays that filter through the courtains of his bedroom.

He then leans to take one of your nipples on his mouth, suckling and teasing the rosy peak, lapping the sensitive bud with his tongue, his hand kneading and squeezing the soft flesh of your breast. You arch into his touch, a symphony of moans and whimpers falling from your lips as he works your body.

At the same time, Joel begins to slowly, teasingly push forward, the thick head of his cock parting your slick folds and sinking inch by tortuous inch into your tight heat.

"Joel!" you gasp, your nails sinking down on the soft expanse of his broad back as you take in his girth, walls clenching and fluttering around his size.

Joel's breaths come in harsh pants against your skin as he fights the urge to bury himself to the hilt in one thrust.

"Y'are so fucken tight" he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Don't wanna hurt you, my little fawn. But ya' feel s' good, sweet girl. S' perfect 'round ma' cock."

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, using the leverage to rock your hips up against his, taking him a little deeper with each desperate roll. He's impressed by your hunger, your desire fueling further his consuming own.

"Joel" you mewl, voice breaking with need, "I can take it, please, I promise. I just need all of you, Joel. Please, fuck me hard and deep until I can't think of anything but the feeling of your cock inside of me"

With a feral growl, Joel surrenders to your plea, slamming his hips forward to bury himself to the hilt inside you. A scream that sounds like his name tears from your throat at the sudden, intense sensation of all of him devouring your from inside, your body convulsing with the force of his thrust.

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes that shake the bed frame and echo through the room. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with the sounds coming out of your mouths.

"Please, please. I wanna come, please"

Tears well in your eyes at the insistence that rocks your body. Joel's eyes widen, perhaps in surprise, this new and strange, yet, his cock twitching makes this all the more intriguing. Arousing even.

"S' you cryin' over my cock?"

You deny it, but the salty trails have started to pool down your cheeks, your prettu fluttering eyelashes damp. Joel gulps, feeling blood rushing to his cock again.

"Don't worry, little fawn" doesn't know why but his tongue runs across your tear-smeared face, the taste of your damp skin, musk and sweat strong, make his mind go numb. "I think ya' look pretty when ya' cry"

Joel feels your velvet walls starting to flutter and clench around his pistoning cock, signaling your coming climax. He doubles his efforts, slamming into you with a wild, primal intensity that steals your breath away.

"That's it, sweet girl" Joel growls, voice ragged with lust as he feels your body tensing beneath him. "Come for me, y/n. I wanna feel you comin' undone on ma' cock, screamin' ma' name as I fill you up nice"

You're a sight to savor in, like basking the first rays of sunlight on the morning. Like his bitter coffee on his favorite mug. But you're sweet on the inside and the outside, he thinks as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing merciless circles over the sensitive nub. Joel is lost on you, he's aware, as he leans down to capture your lips in a consuming kiss. He just wants to have all of you, day and night, body and soul, in and out, because just a taste, and he's gone down the deep saccharine trails of your neck and quivering heart.

Your back arches as the pleasure becomes too intense to bear, your body convulsing uncontrollably as your climax crashes over you. You scream his name, you think, lost in a sea of desperate pleas and incoherent whimpers spilling from your lips.

Joel hilts himself deep inside you as your walls spasm and milk his cock, your release triggering his own, followed by a grunt akin to surrender, perhaps. To you, now fully his. This is the end, he thinks. Now, he's truly yours. God help her, the townsfolk say when you tell them Joel's your man, but when a hoarse shout of your name comes out of his mouth, pulses hot and hard as he grinds against you, you think this is all you need.

Fuck it.

This is what it feels like.

Joel collapses onto you, his bigger softer body blanketing you as he struggles to catch his breath.

"My sweet girl" he coos, peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands roaming over your curves with a gentle, reverent touch. You can feel his heart pounding against your own, when he whispers, voice low and sated. "Mine"

You can't help but laugh in awe. "Yes, Joel. Yours"

He props himself up on his elbows, his brown eyes searching yours with a tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the delicate line of your jaw.

"I know I said I was scared, before. That I've tried to push you 'way. God, y'are stubborn, know that? 'M just glad you ain't a quitter"

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss that makes your heart leap. It tastes bitter like grains and whiskey, but sweet with love and devotion. It's not only a spark between your lips, another of many, but a promise, burning with the same intensity the old coffee pot heats his coffee in the morning.

"Y'are my everything, y/n" your name pronounced like never before. Now ever since.

A heart. A home.

"So are you, Joel" his name in a fervent whisper. Born to be said like a prayer.

And for the first time in so long, Joel Miller feels the same thing he felt when he held Ellie close. I've got you, babygirl.

Hope.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @pedgito / dts: @joelscowgirl ⋆˚✿˖°

[cybergoth1]

﹟— ❛❛cause when you know you know. part 1.

☆﹟— paring: fem!reader x dick grayson.

☆﹟— summary: you've always had dick grayson's heart in your hands, since you were just sixteen.

☆﹟— warnings/tags: dick grayson x fem!reader. reader is an awkward dork. fluffy. dick is yearning. spiderwoman!reader. best friends to lovers (?). these two mfs are the same person in different fonts. reader is a mix of tom holland’s spiderman and the comics. rip uncle ben. the amazing divider was made by @bernardsbendystraws, thank you!. some spiderman: homecoming lore. ☆﹟— MASTERLIST. NEXT.

WAYNE GALAS WERE ALWAYS THE SAME — stiff, over decorated affairs where assholes shook hands and smiled fake smiles over champagne. At sixteen, Dick Grayson knew the routine like the back of his hand. He also knew how to blend into the background when he wasn’t in the mood to charm the crowds. It was from that vantage point, leaning casually against a marble pillar, that he first noticed you.

You stood a few steps behind Tony Stark, looking wildly out of place among Gotham’s elite. Wrapped in a simple blue dress that couldn’t quite decide if it wanted to be fancy or modest, you shifted your weight awkwardly from foot to foot, clutching a small purse like it might save you from drowning in a sea of tuxedos and designer gowns.

Dick’s lips quirked into a small smile. Adorable.

Tony Stark, of course, was in full showman mode, gesturing animatedly as he spoke with Bruce Wayne. The two billionaires were discussing the latest partnership between Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises — a massive clean energy project meant to transform both Gotham and New York. The media was already drooling over it.

"…game-changer for the East Coast, Bruce," Tony was saying, his voice easily cutting over the soft hum of the orchestra. "Your tech, my tech — it’s like peanut butter and genius. Together, unstoppable."

Bruce nodded, ever the composed businessman. "It sounds promising. If we can get the logistics right."

"And we will," Tony said with his usual effortless confidence. Then, spotting Dick nearby — or maybe just looking for an excuse to brag — he turned slightly and gestured toward you.

"And speaking of genius," he said, "I’d like you to meet my brilliant intern. Absolute prodigy. I’m basically babysitting her before someone smarter steals her."

You blinked, startled by the sudden attention, and gave Bruce a stiff little wave, your fingers curling awkwardly halfway through. Dick had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Bruce, gentleman as ever, extended his hand. "It’s a pleasure to meet you."

You hurried forward, shaking his hand a little too quickly. "Um — thank you, Mr. Wayne. It’s, uh, an honor to be here."

Tony clapped a hand on your shoulder, nearly knocking you off balance. "Kid’s working on tech that’ll make arc reactors look like antique junk. Don’t let the nerves fool you — she’s the real deal."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Is that so? I’d love to hear more about your work sometime."

You flushed bright red, mumbling something about polymer synthesis and energy conductivity — something brilliant that Dick couldn’t entirely follow, but he caught enough to be impressed. And amused. You were so obviously genuine — completely different from the polished, self-important guests around you.

Bruce must’ve picked up on your nerves too. With a small, reassuring smile, he glanced to the side.

"Allow me to introduce my son," he said, motioning to Dick. "Dick Grayson."

At the mention of his name, Dick pushed off the pillar and approached with an easy, charming smile — the kind that made Gotham’s elite swoon. But the second your eyes met, you visibly froze like you weren’t sure whether to shake his hand, run away, or throw up.

"H-hi," you said, voice quick, bright — and unmistakably thick with a Queens accent. "It’s, uh, real nice to meetcha."

Dick grinned wider, immediately charmed. "Pleasure’s mine," he said, reaching out.

You hesitated for a beat, then took his hand. Your grip was surprisingly firm, even if your face was screaming pure panic.

Tony almost chuckled. "She’s from Queens," he explained. "You know — where people actually say what they mean and don’t take an hour to do it."

You gave an embarrassed little shrug. You looked like you want to throw up.

That earned a real laugh from Dick, warm and easy. You smiled too — a real smile this time, the kind that crinkled your eyes and hit him somewhere he hadn’t expected. Bruce’s phone buzzed discreetly in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, then gave a small, apologetic nod. "If you’ll excuse me," he said. "Duty calls."

He slipped away, leaving you, Tony, and Dick standing awkwardly together by the marble column.

Tony, never missing a beat, gave Dick a mock-serious look. "Why don’t you two go mingle? God knows she needs more friends."

You groaned under your breath. "Oh my god, Mr. Stark, please don’t."

Dick just laughed again. He fell easily into step beside you as Tony wandered off to schmooze with some politicians. You walked stiffly at first, hyperaware of every move you made in the ridiculously fancy heels Stark had bullied you into wearing.

"So," Dick said, shooting you a grin as he offered you a glass of sparkling water from a passing tray, "Queens, huh? That explains the accent."

You accepted the drink with a sheepish smile. "Yeah. Born and raised. It’s pretty different from all this… you know, money and marble columns."

Dick laughed. "Trust me, you’re not missing much. All it means is you get invited to boring parties like this one."

You laughed too — a real, snorting laugh that made a couple of nearby socialites glance over disapprovingly. You barely noticed.

"So, what’s it like working for Iron man?" Dick asked, tilting his head in that way that made his hair fall a little into his eyes. He probably practiced looking that effortlessly cool in the mirror.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. "Kinda like babysitting a genius toddler with unlimited money and no fear of death."

Dick barked a short laugh. "Sounds about right."

You hesitated, then added, "But seriously? He’s been good to me. Not a lotta people would take a chance on some random kid from Queens."

Dick raised an eyebrow, interested. "Random? C’mon, Stark made it sound like you were about to solve the energy crisis or something."

You snorted again, feeling a little more at ease. "I mean, maybe. Eventually. If I don’t blow up a lab first."

He grinned at that, the easy kind of grin that made you feel like you could tell him anything. So, without really thinking, you shrugged and said, "Plus, I kinda get it. I grew up pretty rough, y’know? Not a lotta money. Lost my folks when I was little."

You said it so casually — like you were talking about the weather — that it took a second for Dick to process.

His smile softened, the cocky edge fading just a little. "Yeah?" he said, voice a little lower now, a little more real. "Me too."

You blinked, surprised. "Wait, really?"

He nodded, tapping two fingers against his chest lightly. "Orphan club. Lifetime membership."

You gave him a crooked smile. "Guess that makes us, like, trauma buddies or something."

Dick chuckled, but there was a warmth in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before. "Guess so. But hey," he added, nudging your shoulder lightly, "at least you’re smart enough to build your way outta Queens."

You shrugged again, feeling your face heat. "Yeah, well. You’re the one who looks like he belongs in a magazine."

Dick gave you a mock-offended gasp. "Are you saying I’m just a pretty face?"

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. "I’m just sayin’, you definitely got the rich kid smile down."

He laughed, full and bright, and for a second it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the whole stupid, glittering ballroom.

SIX MONTHS PASSED WITHOUT you or him even noticing. Long-distance friendships were supposed to fade, or at least get awkward. Yours didn’t. Despite being hundreds of miles apart — you in New York, Dick in Gotham — you and him texted, called, and memed at each other like your lives depended on it. Some nights you stayed up until 3 AM talking about everything and nothing at the same time. School drama. Terrible cafeteria food. The best ways to take down a guy twice your size when you were stuck in a tight suit.

It didn’t take long before the truth slipped out.

You were Spiderwoman. He was Robin.

The discovery was a complete accident — a FaceTime call cut short when you had to swing off mid-conversation to stop a robbery, your phone falling out of your pocket mid-swing, the screen still open as Dick watched wide-eyed.

You expected him to freak out.

Instead, he just texted:

"dude... that's so sick. also ur form was trash lol. we’re training next time ur in gotham."

When Homecoming season rolled around, you weren’t even planning on going. Crowded dances weren’t really your thing. But then Tony Stark, with his usual flair for the dramatic, said something like, “Kid, you gotta have at least one normal high school experience before you get arrested by the feds or something,” and signed you up himself.

The only problem?

You didn’t have a date.

Which is why, two weeks later, you stood frozen on the sidewalk outside Midtown Tech, wearing a dress that you had panic-ordered online, while Dick freaking Grayson leaned casually against a rented black car looking like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

Sleek suit. Easy smile. Blue eyes that sparkled when they landed on you.

You gawked. He whistled low under his breath.

"You clean up nice, Queens," he said, offering you his arm.

You shoved his shoulder lightly, face burning. "You’re literally Bruce Wayne’s kid. You clean up by existing."

Still, you took his arm.

Inside the gym — decorated with cheap streamers and a truly tragic DJ — heads turned immediately. Whispers broke out like wildfire.

"Wait… is that Bruce Wayne’s son?"

"He’s so hot in person. I just saw an article about The Flying Graysons-"

"Eww, isn’t that weird ass chick from the Decathlon Team?"

Enhanced earring. Sometimes you hate that. You spotted Ned across the room near the snack table, eyes wide as saucers. He threw you the most aggressive thumbs-up you had ever seen.

You nearly burst out laughing.

Dick, of course, noticed everything — the stares, the whispers — and just tightened his hold on your arm, leaning down to murmur in your ear: "They’re just jealous they didn’t think of asking you first."

You rolled your eyes, grinning. "Shut up, Gotham."

"You love me," he teased, winking.

You tried to play it cool.

Tried to act like your heart wasn’t punching itself in the face.

Instead, you just said, "Whatever, rich boy. Let’s dance before I regret this."

And somehow, with Dick’s hand wrapped around yours and the gym lights flickering overhead, you realized you were having the best night of your life — cheap decorations, judgmental classmates, bad punch and all. No crimes, no tight suits, just the arms of your best friend around you.

SOME YEARS LATER...

NEW YORK CITY SMELLED LIKE hot dog stands, wet pavement, and cheap coffee. It was comforting, in a weird way — grounding, like an old song you never forgot the words to. It smelled like home.

You had just finished your doctorate at Empire State University — biophysics, the degree that had nearly broken you with sleepless nights and endless labs. Four years of undergrad, another six buried under papers and research grants, all while swinging through the city rooftops under a different name.

You were proud, sure. But pride didn’t pay rent, which meant you were still picking up gigs at the Daily Bugle, still hustling freelance science writing jobs, still showing up at FEAST with boxes of canned goods, just trying to help where you could.

You huffed, adjusting the box in your arms as you kicked open the back door. Aunt May had been working at FEAST full-time now ever since she retired, and somehow, you always found yourself drawn back here too. Helping people — it was kind of your thing. Always had been.

What you didn’t expect was to walk into the kitchen and see him—

Leaning casually against the counter like he owned the place, grinning like he hadn’t just crossed two state lines without so much as a warning.

"Hey, trouble."

You blinked, nearly dropping the box.

"Dick?!"

He flashed that damn movie-star smile at you — the one that should’ve come with a warning label. "Miss me?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" you cried, laughing as you dropped the box on the table and practically launched yourself at him.

Dick caught you without hesitation, his arms wrapping around you in a warm, easy hug. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it until right now. Twelve years. Twelve years of growing up side-by-side, saving cities, teasing each other over coms, late-night phone calls just to vent about patrol. And yet somehow, seeing him in person after a few months apart hit you harder than you expected.

You pulled back. "You idiot! You’re supposed to call before you show up in my city."

"What, and ruin the surprise?" he teased, ruffling your hair — which earned him a murderous glare from you. "Besides, I figured Aunt May could use some extra hands around here."

May appeared in the doorway at that exact moment, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face lit up when she saw Dick. "Richard, honey! It’s so good to see you!"

"Richard," you snickered under your breath, watching Dick grimace in horror as May pulled him into a hug.

"She’s the only one allowed to call me that," he grumbled as he shot you a look over May’s shoulder.

You grinned. God, you’d missed him.

There was a way Dick fit into your life that no one else could replicate — like he was the missing piece to a puzzle you hadn’t even realized was incomplete. Maybe it was the history. Maybe it was the fact that you understood each other in ways that no one else ever could — the grief, the pressure, the guilt that came from trying to save people and knowing it would never be enough.

Maybe it was just him.

Because somewhere along the line, Dick Grayson had gone from Gotham’s golden boy to Nightwing — the heart of Blüdhaven, the hero everyone loved. He wasn’t just a sidekick anymore. He was the blueprint.

Kids in Blüdhaven wore Nightwing shirts and told stories about how he’d saved their dad or helped their aunt or dropped off Christmas gifts at the shelters. He was the hero people wanted to be — not just because he was good with his fists, but because he never stopped believing the world could be better.

You were proud of him in a way you couldn’t even put into words.

And looking at him now — a little older, a little more worn around the edges, but still him — you realized how much he still made you feel like you weren’t alone in any of it. He was your best friend and your family.

You saw May kissing his left cheek before going back to the main room, it was time to serve lunch.

"So," he began, leaning against the counter with that casual drawl he used when he was trying way too hard to sound chill, "how’s your thing with MJ going?"

His tone was careful — soft — like he knew exactly how much of a train wreck your love life had been lately. How you always ended up back at square one: alone.

You shrugged, shooting him a half-hearted smile.

"Eh. How’s your thing with Babs going?"

You tossed the question back at him without missing a beat, raising your brows pointedly.

Dick mirrored your shrug, lips twitching.

"Eh."

There was a brief pause — the kind only two people who knew each other too well could slip into without it feeling awkward — and then you smirked.

"Well, there’s your problem. You’re into gingers."

He snorted. "You’re into gingers."

You pointed at him like you just cracked the code of the universe.

"Exactly. That’s why we both have commitment issues. Everyone knows gingers are secretly evil."

Dick barked a laugh, shaking his head.

"Evil and dangerously attractive. It’s a lose-lose."

"Honestly," you sighed dramatically, "it’s not our fault we keep getting attached to soulless, beautiful monsters."

He grinned wide, that stupidly charming Nightwing grin.

"Soulless monsters — sounds like half the people we fight too."

"At least fighting bad guys doesn’t leave me crying into a tub of ice cream at two a.m."

Dick’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

"I guess you forgot your little friend Felicia Hardy in this sentence."

You gasped, smacking his arm — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.

"That was one time and she tricked me!"

"Uh-huh," Dick said, smirking as he rubbed his arm dramatically. "And then she ghosted you and stole your watch. And your wallet".

You groaned.

"I told you that in confidence, you traitor."

He grinned even wider, clearly enjoying himself.

"You’re lucky I’m your best friend and not, you know, selling these stories to the tabloids."

You gave him a half-hearted glare before letting out a snort.

"Yeah, because Nightwing Reveals Spiderwoman Got Played by Cat Thief would really earn you some credibility."

Dick shrugged, unbothered. "Might finally knock me off GQ’s ‘Sexiest Heroes Alive’ list. Honestly, it’s getting exhausting."

You laughed, the sound bursting out of you before you could stop it. God, you missed this. The easy rhythm of you and Dick — how he could drag you out of any dark place with just a few dumb jokes and a mischievous glint in his eye.

"But come on now, sexiest hero alive," you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "Why are you truly in New York?"

Your face ached from how much you’d been smiling. It was almost enough to make you forget the three broken ribs healing under your shirt and the nasty wound stitched up on your left thigh. Almost.

Dick just shrugged, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a half-smile.

"Nothing at all," he said lightly. "Just missed you."

You squinted at him, unconvinced.

"Missed me enough to leave your city to crumble without Nightwing?"

"Don’t be dramatic," he said, rolling his eyes fondly. "Tim’s covering me this weekend. Blüdhaven’s in good hands."

You studied him again — really studied him — noticing how his bright blue eyes suddenly dipped away from yours, shyness creeping into his expression. Dick sighed, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, like he was bracing himself.

"It’s May fourth," he said quietly.

You froze for a beat. Of course.

You didn’t need him to say anything else. You knew exactly what that date meant.

Uncle Ben’s death anniversary.

You were so burried into your Spiderwoman's stuff last night that you forgot all about Ben, you didn't even noticed how sad May was this morning. A lump formed in your throat. The pain was still there, buried deep. It always was. Even with all the miles between you and that night, the guilt, the regret — it never quite left. You thought you had it under control, thought you had it buried in the same corner where you stashed all your unresolved issues. But not today. Not with Dick here, looking at you like that.

You were about to say something, anything, to push the conversation somewhere else. But Dick stepped closer, the usual teasing smirk gone. His gaze softened, his voice quiet, steady.

"You still blame yourself, don’t you?"

The question hit harder than you’d expected, like he’d plucked the thought right from your mind. You met his eyes for the first time since he’d dropped that bomb. The guilt, all of it, was there — clear and raw. You didn’t need to say a word.

He sighed, stepping closer, until his body was just a breath away from yours. His hand brushed against your arm, the touch warm, gentle.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice low and comforting. "You can’t save everyone. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that."

You almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded coming from him. Dick Grayson — Nightwing, a hero, a Titan — was the one who saved people, who did the impossible. He was the one who made sure no one fell through the cracks. He was everybody's safety net.

"I’m not like you," you whispered. The words sounded bitter in your mouth. "I’m not like him. I could’ve done more, should’ve done more. I—"

"Stop," Dick interrupted, his voice firm but caring. "You did everything you could. But you can’t do it all, especially not alone."

You looked up at him, his blue eyes meeting yours, soft with understanding. There was no judgment in his gaze — only the kind of acceptance that made your chest tighten. He’d seen your worst moments. And somehow, even in those, he still cared.

He was always there, wasn’t he? Even when it felt like the whole world was crashing down around you, he was the constant you could rely on. He didn’t need to say a word — he just was.

"I’m sorry," you muttered, shaking your head. "I should’ve been better, Dick. He deserved better. He would be alive—"

Dick’s hand moved to your shoulder, his grip solid, like he was holding you together in a way no one else could.

"You don’t have to carry that on your own," he said quietly. "And you don’t have to keep punishing yourself, either. Ben wouldn’t want that."

You clenched your jaw, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. But the dam was breaking. Slowly, painfully, the tears you didn’t realize were there started to well up. And Dick — always, always there — pulled you into his arms without hesitation.

"Hey," he whispered into your hair, his voice soothing, "You’re not alone. I’m here, alright? And so is May. We’re all here."

You clung to him for a second longer than you probably should’ve, your hands gripping the back of his shirt like it was a lifeline. Maybe it was. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed this. You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead into his shoulder, trying to swallow the emotion threatening to spill over.

Eventually, you pulled back, just a little, blinking away the tears. Your chest felt lighter, like the weight of the years had shifted just a little.

"Thanks," you said, voice thick. "I really needed that."

Dick’s thumb brushed carefully along your jaw, grounding you. You stared up at him, the breath catching in your chest, and for a long moment, he just looked at you — like he was memorizing you, seeing every crack, every bruise, and not turning away.

Then, without a word, he leaned in and pressed a soft, steady kiss to your forehead. Just like many others he gave you in these past twelve years. He lingered there, letting the touch say all the things neither of you could voice out loud.

When he finally pulled back, he dropped another kiss, featherlight, to the tip of your nose — the smallest, softest thing — and it broke something inside you in the best way. It wasn’t romantic, not in the big, sweeping way movies liked to show. It was better. It was pure, steady, real. The kind of love that had nothing to prove and nowhere to go. It just was.

You closed your eyes for a second, breathing him in — the faint smell of his cologne, the leather of his jacket, the clean sweat of someone who lived moving, fighting, surviving. When you opened your eyes again, he was still there, hands steady, smile small and genuine.

"You’re such an ugly crier, Webs," Dick said, voice full of teasing warmth as he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs. "Is that snot? Seriously?"

You let out a wet, broken laugh. "Fuck off — my uncle died, you asshole."

"I know, I know," he said, his grin tugging at the corner of his mouth even as his eyes stayed soft, careful. He cupped your face between his hands like you were something fragile and precious, his thumbs brushing away the tears and — yeah, maybe a little snot too. "You’re allowed to cry. Even if you do it… extremely unattractively."

You hiccupped a miserable sound and buried your face in his shoulder. Dick just laughed under his breath and tucked you closer, like he could shield you from the whole damn world if you let him.

"You’re the worst," you muttered thickly into his neck.

For a minute, you just breathed together. No words. No expectations. Then you heard the familiar shuffle of footsteps and Aunt May’s voice coming from the kitchen doorway.

"Well, isn’t this the cutest thing I’ve seen all week."

You jerked upright, immediately wiping your face. Dick just threw an arm lazily around your shoulders, pulling you into his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey, May," he said brightly, like you weren’t two seconds away from crumbling.

Aunt May just smiled knowingly, walking over to kiss your temple and then ruffle Dick’s hair, making him squawk in protest. "Always good to see you, honey. But next time, you know, call first".

"Yes, ma’am," he grumbled, fixing his hair like some offended cat.

"Come on, you two," she said, already turning back toward the kitchen. "There’s leftovers from dinner. You can eat and then help me serving lunch. We have new people here needing help and Miles is really anxious about meeting your friend".

Ah, Miles. He's a great kid and hero. Dick's probably gonna like him. Dick squeezed your shoulder gently. "Race you to the table, ugly crier."

You elbowed him hard in the ribs, but you were laughing. Really laughing. Later that day, standing in front of Uncle Ben’s grave, the city felt quieter and worst than usual. Maybe it was just the way your heart was beating — slow, heavy, a little cracked around the edges. You stared at the headstone until the words blurred, the lump in your throat too thick to swallow.

Without a word, Dick stepped closer and pulled you against his side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. His fingers found yours easily, lacing them together like they belonged there, like they always had. He squeezed your hand and then, without any hesitation, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

It was so soft it made your eyes sting all over again.

You leaned into him, letting his strength anchor you, feeling his heartbeat steady against your side. The sun dipped lower, the air turning cooler, but neither of you moved. You could always hear his heartbeat, even when he wasn't in the same room as you. Nice part of having powers. You have the sound memorized in your head.

Dick didn’t rush you. He didn’t tell you it was time to go, or that you had to be strong, or that Ben was in a better place. He just stayed — solid and silent and sure — holding you. He spent the whole evening there with you, never once letting go of your hand. May was in front of you, mourning in her own way. In silence.

When the city lights finally started to blink on in the distance, you turned your face into his shoulder and whispered, voice cracking, "Thank you."

Dick just squeezed your hand tighter, pressing another kiss to your hairline.

"Always, Webs," he murmured against your hair. "Always." like they belonged there, like they always had.

©cybergoth1, 2025

[fastandcarlos]

Living With The LeClercs » Charles LeClerc

Summary: take a peek into the life of the leclerc family and see what they get up to

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,402,505 others

charles_leclerc: off season complete ✅ batteries are recharged after yet another amazing holiday with the fam

39,503 comments

scuderiaferrari: looking forward to having you back with us next week charles 🏎️

landonorris: i refuse to accept that y/d/n is yours, she's too beautiful to have your genes

ynusername: @/landonorris she just takes after her mother instead 😇

username1: nooooo, f1 season means we get less dad pics from you charles

username2: i don't ever want the dad charles era to end 😭

ynusername: thank you for the best three months, i couldn't wish for a better dad to our little humans 💕

schecoperez: you're putting me to shame with all these adorable snaps, i better start uploading too

lance_stroll: calling dibs on being first to offer babysitting during the season btw

danielricciado: @/lance_stroll you take one i'll take the other, mini charles' are a lot to handle

lance_stroll: @/danielricciardo you've got yourself a deal

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 832,420 others

charles_leclerc: race day is always better with these two babies causing chaos 🥰

29,908 comments

carlossainz55: as cute as your children are, can you hurry up and stop uploading to instagram...some of us have got meetings

username3: y/s/n is hands down the coolest kid at the paddock this weekend

username4: why do i get the impresson project leclerc jr is well underway with y/d/n 🤔

oscarpiastri: STOP SHOWING OFF HOW BEAUTIFUL YOUR FAMILY ARE 😡

maxverstappen1: maybe y/s/n will have a better chance of beating me to the top of the podium than you

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 one day...he's got his eyes on you! apparently you're his favourite driver

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc tell him that he's got excellent taste

ynusername: not you promoting letting toddlers get behind the wheel of high speed cars 🙄

danielricciardo: if you're looking for a coach, you know who to ask

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciado you think i'm not capable of coaching my son

danielricciardo: @/charles_leclerc sure...but if you want him to learn from a proper driver, just gimme a call 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 294,405 others

ynusername: following this man around all day, trying to keep the kids from hugging daddy is a hard day’s work (see second pic for proof 😂)

12,492 comments

landonorris: if charles isn't interested, tell the kids that uncle lando will always be ready for a cuddle

iamrebeccad: i've never done so many steps before, who knew chasing after 3 year olds was such hard work 💫

ynusername: @/iamrebeccad i did try to warn you!! you should've listened

pierregasly: he's just tryna play it cool y/n, he isn't as cool as he used to be

username5: imagine being lucky enough to walk around the paddock and just see y/s/n and y/d/n everywhere

kevinmagnussen: tell them to have a sniff of charles after being in a race car for 2 hours y/n...that will soon be enough to put them off 💩

lilymhe: i want them to chase me and give me all the cuddles in the world

username6: you just know in any free moment charles is secretly looking around wanting his kids back beside him

username7: everyone say thank you to y/n for yet another round of hot dad charles pics 🙏🏻

oscarpiastri: why can't you hug me as lovingly as you hug your son? you're supposed to me my dad too

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri "adopted"

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc IT ALL STILL COUNTS

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 829,407 others

charles_leclerc: like father like son…the leclerc smile is deadly

78,445 comments

username8: officially the cutest photographs to ever be uploaded to the internet 🥺

username9: excuse me charles leclerc you cannot just spring photos like this on us without warning

oscarpiastri: i smile like this too...family?? 🥰

maxverstappen1: if i had to pick y/s/n definitely looks cuter

username10: i was not emotionally ready for this adorableness 💔

carlossainz55: deadly?? you look like the squishiest marshmallow

username11: @/carlossainz55 i think you've been spending too much time on the internet 😬

ynusername: my two favourite boys, how did I ever get so lucky?

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername there's no way you're the lucky one, that title belongs to me mi amor

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 527,492 others

charles_leclerc: I’ve been posting a lot about my human kids recently, so here’s a shoutout to my other child so he doesn’t feel left out

43,482 comments

oscarpiastri: damn i almost thought that this post was gonna be about me

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri i swear one more comment and i will block you, son or not

landonorris: how dare you mistreat leo like this

username12: @/landonorris #justice4leo

username13: charles leclerc...father of 3

ynusername: leo could never be forgotton, he's our favourite four legged child

alex_albon: @/ynusername also your only four legged child 🤔

estebanocon: cute kids, cute dog...how do you do it leclerc??

yukitsunoda0511: asking for a friend...do your kids also poo in the middle of the paddock or just your dog

username14: @/yukitsunoda0511 YUKI not you stitching charles up like this! 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by estebanocon, lance_stroll and 728,493 others

charles_leclerc: my favourite things to do, being a dad with a bit of gaming too 🥺💕

53,684 comments

ynusername: where does being a husband rank in all of them??

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you’re still my number one 😍

username15: if charles won't appreciate you come and marry me instead

maxverstappen1: so bad at fifa you've resorted to table football i see 🫢

carlossainz55: don't worry charlie, i'll beat you at that kinda football too

username16: not you forgetting the woman that gave you those two adorable humans charles 🤦🏻‍♀️

username17: public apology incoming

danielricciardo: and you just happened to be playing table football with your top off did you? 🤔

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo it was all just coincidence...promise

georgerussell63: charles leclerc giving the fan girls what they want since 2018

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 842,348 others

charles_leclerc: appreciation for the wife so she doesn’t get jealous 😂 I love you honey, thank you for our perfect family ✨🔥

53,372 comments

carlossainz55: if you heard him gush about you as much as i do y/n you'd know there is never anything to be jealous of

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 what sorta thing does he say?? 🤔

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 do not throw me under the bus like this!!

landonorris: one of you looks perfect, the other looks like he needs a haircut and to sort his beard out

username18: i hope you know how lucky you are charles

username19: how does y/n manage to look that good running around after y/s/n, y/d/n and charles all day???

logansargeant: can you stop making all us single people feel even more single pls 😭

schecoperez: the second best family in formula one

danielricciardo: @/schecoperez SAVAGE! 💪🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,392,503 others

charles_leclerc: just a post to remind you all I can do both…no dad bod around here 🫢

101,372 comments

username20: DADDY!? 💦

landonorris: how many takes did it take you to get that shot in the gym?

carlossainz55: @/landonorris i was there...for several hours

username21: soft dad charles will always be my fave

ynusername: is there anything that you can't do? you take my breath away charles leclerc 💫💕

oscarpiastri: one day i hope to be as strong as you are...dad

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri BLOCKED

alex_albon: i don't know who looks more tired, you or y/d/n

charles_leclerc: @/alex_albon me, definitely me, but i wouldn't change it for the world

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[multific]

The Emperor’s Little Princess

Requested by: Anonymus 

Request: I'm absolutely a sucker for kid fics; I always think they are so cute bc I love family dynamics. So something similar to "Heart of a Father" but with a grown child or teenager? Maybe it's her birthday, and the celebrations are even bigger than the one for his wife on "The Festival of Love" (my two fav stories!!). Or it can also be something angst with Caracalla thinking his kid shares his symptoms bc of some way they act as they grow, so his worries are back?

A/N: I took some artistic liberties with this one, I apologise if this is not what you have been looking for, but I started and just couldn't stop writing. 

Emperor Caracalla x Reader

Summary: Caracalla goes above and beyond to give your daughter the perfect fifth birthday celebration, ensuring every moment is filled with joy.

The palace gardens had never looked so magical. 

Golden banners draped from the marble columns, fresh flowers filled the air with sweetness, and tables overflowed with cakes, fruits, and sweets. Laughter rang through the open courtyard as your daughter, dressed in a beautiful white and gold tunic, twirled in delight, her tiny sandals barely touching the ground.

You turned to Caracalla, who stood beside you, arms crossed as he watched your daughter with quiet pride.

A rare, genuine smile softened his features.

“She looks happy,” you said, nudging him gently.

He exhaled, nodding. “That’s all I wanted.”

It was clear he had spared no effort. The grand feast, the entertainers, the gifts, everything was perfect, planned down to the last detail. Caracalla, the Emperor of Rome, feared by so many, had devoted weeks to organizing a child’s birthday.

But not just any child. His child.

Your daughter squealed as she spotted Geta, who was dramatically bowing before her.

“Would the little princess honour me with a dance?” Geta asked, offering his hand.

She giggled, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Uncle Geta!”

You smiled as Geta took her tiny hand and twirled her around, his deep chuckle mixing with her bright laughter. 

The sight of them was a rare and beautiful thing.

Caracalla watched, his expression unreadable.

Then, without warning, he reached for your hand.

His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and firm.

“I used to worry,” he admitted, voice quieter now, so only you could hear him. “That my sickness, my mind… would touch her.”

You turned to him, surprised by the confession.

“But look at her,” he continued, his gaze never leaving her. “She’s happy. Completely untouched by it.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You squeezed his hand. “That’s because she has you. And me. She is loved, Calla.”

At his name, he finally looked at you. And when he did, something shifted in his eye.

He swallowed. “I want another.”

Your breath stopped. “Another what?”

His thumb brushed over your fingers, softly. “Another child.”

The words sent a rush of warmth through you.

He sighed, almost as if he had been holding it in for a long time. “I never thought I’d want more. I was afraid. But now…” His grip tightened. “Now, I do.”

A slow smile spread across your lips.

“You’re sure?” you asked, teasing.

He smirked. “Have I ever been unsure about something I wanted?”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “No. You haven’t.”

His free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Then say yes. Please, My Empress.” 

You glanced toward your daughter, still twirling in Geta’s arms, her laughter filling the air.

A family. A real family.

You turned back to Caracalla, meeting his intense gaze. “Yes.”

His lips crashed onto yours, not rough, not desperate, but full of relief, love, and promise.

As he pulled back, your daughter ran toward you both, eyes wide with excitement.

“Papa! Mama!” she beamed. “This is the best day ever!”

Caracalla scooped her up effortlessly, holding her close. “Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Then we will make every day just as perfect.”

You watched them, heart full, knowing, this was just the beginning.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[goldfades]

Joe burrow blurb where he gets baby fever seeing reader taking care of his nephews

thanksgiving at the burrow house is exactly what you expected and nothing you expected, all at the same time.

you’d prepped yourself for a cozy, midwestern vibe—homemade pies, mismatched dinnerware, maybe a friendly debate over the best way to make stuffing. and, to be fair, all of that was true. what you didn’t expect was how loud and chaotic it could get, with joe’s cousins piling into the house like it’s a college frat reunion and his mom somehow keeping everyone in line with just a stern look and a well-timed plate of cookies.

you’re in the kitchen with robin, helping her plate the turkey, when you hear joe yell from the living room. “there’s no way you beat me at madden again!”

robin shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. “he’s just mad he’s not the best at everything.”

you laugh, grabbing the mashed potatoes. “i’ll remind him later that humility is a virtue.”

“good luck with that, sweetheart,” robin says, giving you a knowing look.

by the time everyone sits down to eat, the table is overflowing with food, and joe’s already piled his plate high. he’s sitting next to you, of course, his knee bumping against yours under the table every so often like he just can’t help himself.

“so,” one of his uncles says, his fork hovering over the green bean casserole. “when are you two gonna give us some real thanksgiving entertainment and start a family?”

your face heats instantly, and you glance at joe, wide-eyed. but he just leans back in his chair, totally unbothered, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“well, we’ll see,” he says, glancing over at you like he’s enjoying this a little too much. “depends on if i can convince her to name the kid after me.”

“joe jr.,” one of his cousins says, throwing his hands in the air like it’s the obvious choice.

“absolutely not,” you say firmly, stabbing a piece of turkey for emphasis. “we’ve had this discussion.”

the whole table erupts into laughter, and joe just shrugs, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “we’ll work on it,” he says, giving you a wink.

despite the teasing, it’s impossible not to feel completely at home. every time someone passes you a dish or asks how you like the stuffing, you’re reminded just how much joe’s family has embraced you as one of their own.

later, when the dishes are done and everyone’s gathered in the living room watching football, joe pulls you onto the couch beside him, tucking you under his arm.

“so,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “what do you think? could you see us hosting thanksgiving someday? our kids running around, stealing all the rolls?”

you glance up at him, your heart doing that familiar little flip it always does when he looks at you like this—soft and sure, like he already knows the answer.

“maybe,” you say, leaning into him with a smile. “but only if you cook the turkey.”

“deal,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. and in that moment, you can’t imagine a future more perfect.

later, joe’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watches you sit cross-legged on the living room floor. his nephew, who’s barely two, is perched in your lap, babbling nonsense while you pretend to understand every word like it’s the most important conversation you’ve ever had.

you’re a natural with kids, and it’s obvious. the way you hold his nephew steady while he wobbles trying to stack blocks, the exaggerated gasp you give when the tower falls over, making the little guy burst into giggles.

“oh no! our masterpiece!” you exclaim dramatically, hands to your cheeks, and joe’s nephew dissolves into another fit of laughter.

joe chuckles under his breath, but his heart does this weird little thing it’s been doing more and more lately—this tight, warm ache that leaves him feeling soft in a way he can’t quite explain.

“you’re just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help us rebuild?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder at him.

he steps into the room, crouching beside you. “looks like you’ve got it handled,” he says, nudging your shoulder with his. “you’re a natural.”

“i had a great assistant,” you say, ruffling his nephew’s hair. the toddler immediately grabs your hand, trying to pull it toward the blocks.

joe doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches the way you interact with his nephew—the way you encourage him to try again, the way you laugh when he tries to stack the biggest block on the tiniest one, the way you look at him like he’s the most amazing kid in the world.

“you’re really good at this,” joe murmurs, his voice softer now.

you glance up at him, a little shy under his gaze. “thanks,” you say, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “kids are fun. exhausting, but fun.”

joe nods, his eyes flicking between you and his nephew, who’s now trying to climb into your lap again. something about the scene makes that warm ache in his chest grow stronger. he doesn’t say it out loud, but the thought’s already rooted itself in his mind: he could picture this. you. with your kid. with his kid.

“what?” you ask, catching the look on his face.

he just shakes his head, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips. “nothing,” he says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “just... you’re incredible, that’s all.”

“oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes, but your smile gives you away.

joe doesn’t press the matter, but later, when his nephew’s napping and you’re curled up beside him on the couch, he’s already imagining what it’d be like to have a little one of your own. and the more he thinks about it, the more he knows he doesn’t just want it—he wants it with you.

[no-144444]

stoic much? -o.piastri

Day 21 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: oscar might be too good at the whole 'keeping a secret' thing. like, really good.

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Meeting his fellow drivers’ families was always something that Charles had enjoyed. He liked to see how his competition grew up, how they treated their parents, how they treated their siblings.

He was more than interested to meet his ‘sons’ family, and at the Monaco GP.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“What time are they coming in?” Logan asked Oscar, the three of them walking the track with their engineers.

“A bit later. They landed like 2 hours ago but Ellie needed a nap,” Oscar explained.

“Have you met them already?” Charles asked Logan.

Logan smiled. “Oh yeah, they’re the best.”

Oscar chuckled. “And mom is coming in tomorrow with Hattie,”

Little did the three of them know, you were walking behind them with Ellie’s hand in yours, ready to sneak up on them. Logan, having a sneaking suspicion that someone important was behind them, glanced back and made eye contact. His grin widened and he stopped in his tracks, turning around and scooping Ellie up and into his arms. He covered her face in kisses as she giggled, him tickling her.

Oscar rushed to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours. “Hey baby,” he smiled. You two hadn’t seen each other in a matter of weeks, both of you too busy with your jobs. You, being one the highest paid lawyers in Monaco, him being an F1 driver.

“Log, calm with Ellie, she just got up!” you called after them, despite Logan already starting to run with her on his back. “She’ll be wired for the whole day!”

“Got it!” he called back, but he didn’t slow down. It didn’t bother you.

“Logan! Bring me back my daughter please?!” Oscar laughed and Logan obliged. As they got closer Logan placed Ellie down and she ran into her dad’s arms, who lifted her up and smiled as bright as he did the day she was born.

“Daddy!” she cheered, holding onto a strand of his hair. “Can we race?” she asked.

You chuckled. “Dad has to talk to Tom about the track first, then we can go race him, Uncle Log, Uncle Zhou, and Uncle Lan, yeah?”

“God, she’s going to be a racer one day,” Logan chuckled.

Oscar shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

You chuckled. “At least now you know how your mom feels.”

He shot you a particularly nasty side-eye after that, but kissed you all the same.

“What the fuck?” Charles stood there stunned. Oscar chuckled, covering Ellie’s ears as she snuggled into her dads neck, completely uninterested in the world around her.

“This is Y/n, my wife,” Oscar introduced.

“Hi Charles, nice to see you again,” you smiled, pulling him in for a hug.

“You two know each other?” Logan asked.

“She’s my lawyer,” Charles explained, stunned. “And you’re married to him?”

You nodded. “4 years and counting.”

“And this is Elizabeth, or ‘Ellie’, our daughter,” Oscar smiled, trying to coax Ellie to wave to Charles. She did, shyly, and his stunned expression broke out into one of joy. Charles loved kids.

“How did I not know this before?” he chuckled.

Oscar shrugged. “No one ever asked.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“You have a wife?” Fernando gasped, shocked as everyone else had been that weekend. Charles, ever the gossip, had told Max, who told Checo, who told Carlos, who told Lando (who already knew), who told Alex, who told George, who told Lewis, who told Fernando, who told Lance, who told Esteban, who told Zhou (who already knew), who told Valterri, who told Nico, who told Kevin, who told Yuki, who told Liam, who told Franco.

Oscar nodded. “Yeah I do-”

“You have a kid?!” Alex came up beside them, mouth open. Oscar retrieved his wallet from his trouser pocket and pulled out a polaroid of the three of you at Christmas last year. Decked out in a princess dress, Ellie stood between you and him, both in ‘ugly Christmas t’shirts’. All three of you were smiling like children.

“My wife’s name is Y/n, and my daughter's name is Ellie. Come by Mclaren to meet them,” he offered, then walked ahead to catch up with Lando.

“He’s joking, right?” Alex turned to Fernando.

Fernando chuckled. “You never know with him.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He wasn’t kidding. Alex found that out when he finally made the trek over to the McLaren garage and found you, sitting with Logan and Oscar as Lando showed Ellie off to the engineers and other drivers.

“Alex,” he smiled, introducing himself.

“Y/n,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

“I didn’t know you existed,” he chuckled. Pierre, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Fernando, Mark, and Lance were busy playing with Ellie (with both you and Oscar looking at them, you didn’t trust them that much) to pay any attention to you, just how you liked it.

“Not many people did,” you shrugged. “Oscar‘a ashamed of us-“

“Hello? That’s not fair!” Oscar argued, a smile on his lips. “No one asked!”

“We didn’t think we’d have to!” Alex argued back, laughing.

“I wear a wedding ring! I'm wearing my wedding ring!”

“You do wear gloves,” you reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m done with the two of you.”

“Ellie will just agree with us!” You called after him as he walked over to save his daughter from the eyes of his colleagues.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[nogutsnogloria]

Could I humbly request more of Pope x Lena’s favorite? Maybe Pope finally asks her out but something happens and they bring Lena along on their date?

um yes you absolutely can. thank you so much for your request i hope this does it justice.

summary: your first date with andrew is slightly derailed. you both make the best of it.

pope cannot believe that the sitter bailed. he purposely didn’t beg one of his brothers and went with the neighbour who had always been reliable when he asked, she cancelled last minute and he doesn’t want to cancel on you but obviously he can’t leave lena. he has to let you know that he owes you a rain check. hey-sitter cancelled. there are a few more people i can try but we might need to reschedule.

he’s sighing and rubbing his face tossing his phone on the counter when lena comes up to him. “uncle pope what’s wrong?” she’s climbing up onto the stool at the island next to him. “you remember how i told you that you would have a babysitter tonight?” lena nods. “well your babysitter is suddenly busy so i have to change my plans a little bit” pope turns to her and sees her smiling like she has the best idea. “you know who could babysit me…” she trails off and pope knows exactly who she means. “kiddo i have a secret, my plans are with her already. she’s was supposed to be busy with me tonight.” lena grins at him. “like a date? are you gonna marry her?” that makes pope huff a little laugh. “well i should probably take her on a first date before we think about getting married don’t you think?” he teases her with a little poke to her side. it makes her giggle. pope wasn’t planning on telling her yet but since it’s out now he has to ask. “is that okay with you if her and i start going on dates? she will probably be around a bit more but it doesn’t mean anything changes between you and me right?” lena nods. “i know, she makes me really happy uncle pope i like her a lot” pope pulls her into a hug. “yeah me too.”

you just got out of the shower and you checked your phone to andrew’s text saying the sitter cancelled. you sit on the bed and sigh a bit disappointed. you were looking forward to seeing him, but you understand completely that lena comes first, you wouldn’t want that to change for him ever, especially for you. that still doesn’t change the fact that you really want to see him, even if the date isn’t happening. what if we altered the plans a bit and lena can come along? you lie back on your bed looking up to the ceiling with another deep sigh. your phone buzzes beside you, the message makes you smile. we will pick you up at 6.

you finish getting ready and wait down in your kitchen. you see the truck pull into your driveway so you open your door to leave and lock it behind you. pope is there opening the passenger door so that you can get in. you hop up with a “thanks” and he shuts the door behind you. you turn to lena in the back seat. “hi lena how are you?” she smiles at you. “i’m good, we got you flowers. i picked them out.” she’s handing you the bouquet. you gasp at her “you did? thank you, you really shouldn’t have” you say mostly to pope. he looks at you with a smile and starts the truck. you dig through the bouquet for the purple gerba daisy and a few carnations and give them to lena. “here lena these ones are for you” she grins back at you “really?” you nod “mhm, they match your jacket”

pope drives the three of you down to the pier. there is a little food truck show happening and it should have something for everyone. you have lena in your arms reading her all the menus so that she can decide what she wants, all three of you decide the taco truck looks like the best bet so you go wait in line. once you’ve all ordered what you want pope tells you to go find a seat. there is only two chairs so lena has to sit on your lap while the three of you eat. pope offers to take her but you turn down the offer. the three of you have easy conversation as you always do.

midway through dinner you decide to play footsies with pope just to see his reaction, he’s not totally flustered but you can tell you caught him off guard. he recovers quickly equally playing back, you two enjoying this little secret moment. lena spots an ice cream truck and you two conspire against uncle pope to go get ice cream. when your walking over to the truck he says “you know, i’m starting to think you have a bigger ice cream problem then she does” you give him a smile and bat your eyelashes a little neither confirming or denying. pope doesn’t get one again but he plans to steal a bite of yours just because he can.

the three of you head down to the park at the pier with the ice cream lena skipping ahead. pope reaches for your fingers and threads his in between yours. you find yourself sitting close to him on a bench watching lena play around on the park. you watch the sunset behind her as she plays. you and pope having easy conversation while sitting there. it starts to get dark and pope almost apologetic says to you. “i need to get her home to bed.” you turn to him knee knocking against his. “yeah it is getting late.” neither of you make a huge effort to get up. it isn’t until lena comes over complaining about being cold that you all decide to head back to the truck and pope starts the drive back to your house to drop you off.

he pulls into your driveway and puts the truck into park. you turn back and lena has fallen asleep. “see this was the part of the date i was going to let you make out with me on my porch for 20 minutes but someone needs to get to bed.” pope lets a noise from the back of his throat that is a whine mixed with a groan, and you giggle. still your leaning in over the centre console looking into his eyes. he reaches up to pull at the ends of your hair as you two look into each others eyes. both of you looking for a sign that the other doesn’t want this to happen. you both come to a silent agreement that you want this so you lean in and give his lips probably the most innocent kiss you have ever given a boy, let alone a man like andrew, but you could not live with yourself if lena woke up to your tongue down his throat. he smiles into it. “are you being shy?” and you lean your forehead into his chest bashfully. “you know what they say leave them wanting more, so that they come back” you can feel the rumble of his laugh against your face. he pulls your head out of his chest. “i definitely do want more. next time i’m prepaying the babysitter, and i’m holding you to that 20 minutes promised on your porch” lena stirs in the back and you turn to look at her. “okay enough stalling in the driveway, i will let you two get home. thank you for everything tonight, i had a really great time.” he’s smiling at you. “thank you for still coming out with me and my partner in crime.” you smile looking back at lena. “i wouldn’t have missed it.” with that you are finally crawling out of the truck making sure to grab your flowers. you unlock your front door and give one more wave, pope waves back. once you’ve closed the door pope starts the truck up again and drives home, not remembering the last time he felt this content.

[bootsukki]

masterlist

warnings: nothing i think............... (i don't know if i hate this tbh)

tsukishima kei loved his niece, he really did, but, she was getting on his nerves. his brother akiteru and sister-in-law had left earlier that week for a work trip, leaving 24-year-old tsukishima kei in charge of his lovely five-year-old niece, hana.

so far, it had been relatively smooth, he took her to school, went to work, picked her up again and drove her home, where he made food (not as good as mum's, as hana said) and spent the afternoon with her, doing homework and playing.

until wednesday, kei's third day with hana

"uncle kei," hana piped up, taking the hair brush from kei's hands and shaking her head "you don't know how to braid hair"

"no."

"why not? mama knows how to."

kei had been trying his best at braiding her hair for the day. she insisted that, on wednesdays, she always wear braids to school and, after what it seemed like a excruciating amount of tutorials, the girl had given up on getting kei to braid it.

"because i've never had to braid someone's hair, hana"

hana frowned, her expression a mix of disbelief and determination.

"but i want it braided."

"i can't braid it, hana."

"then i'm not going to school."

"what?" kei asked, confused. "you are going to school, miss."

"no!" hana screamed "if i can't wear braids, i'm not going!"

"hana, please." kei leaned down, looking at the little girl desd in the eye. "i have to go to work and you have to go to school."

she squinted at him. "miss (y/n) next door knows how to! she always wears pretty braids and she can teach you."

"miss who?" kei knew almost all of his brother's neighbors, but it was the first time he had ever heard of that name.

"she's our new neighbor." hana jumped, grabbing the sleeve of kei's shirt, her insistence (and his need to go to work), leaving him with no choice but to follow the girl out the door.

when they arrived at the neighbouring house, hana knocked on the door and a young woman opened the door, blinking in surprise at the sight of them.

kei nearly choked at the sight of her. she didn't seem older than he was and her hair was up in a ponytail, a smile making its way towards her face at the sight of hana. she was probably the prettiest woman kei had set his eyes on and the fact that she was smiling at him was not helping the heat that was rising to his cheeks.

god, he felt like a teenager.

"hi there, little tsukishima!" she said, voice friendly. "how can i help you?"

"my uncle kei doesn't know how to braid my hair." hana announced bluntly, giving (y/n) the hair brush she had been holding on. "can you do them for me?"

(y/n)'s lips twitched into a smile, looking up at the tall man in front of her. his tall, broad frame nearly filled the doorway and his midly annoyed expression but rosy cheeks only made the situation more amusing. he was pretty handsome. "it's nice to meet you. i'm kinda new to the neighbourhood, my name's (y/n)."

"i'm akiteru's brother, kei."

they stood for just a few seconds, looking at each other, before (y/n) looked at the little girl who had already made her way inside her house.

"and... of course i can braid your hair, pretty."

kei hesitated before stepping into her house. it was an open space, living room and kitchen connected. what really caught his attention was the setup: a camera perched on a tripod, a bowl of... was that whipped cream on the counter next to a banana? no need to say that his mind went somewhere.... completely innapropiate. why did she had a camera like that? why the whipped cream? why the banana?

(y/n) noticed his gaze lingering and quickly cleared her throat, cheeks reddening but before she could explain herself, hana sat in a chair and urged them to get on with the braids.

(y/n) leaned down, busying herself with hana's braids while kei stood awkwardly near the door and once she finished, hana ran to his arms.

"do i look pretty, uncle kei?"

"the prettiest but you need to say thank you quickly because we are going to be late."

"thank you, miss (y/n)!"

"you're welcome, sweetie," she replied smiling. then, turning to kei, she added. "i... uh..."

"thank you for this but we have to go."

"oh... okay. bye"

"bye, miss (y/n)!"

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

(y/n) stood in front of the tsukishima's household, holding a box full of cookies and took a deep breath, making her way towards the door, ringing the doorbell.

kei was finishing up the dinner he had been preparing and when to the door to open it, finding (y/n) holding a neatly wrapped box.

"here," she said, looking down, trying not to look at him in the eyes, completely embarrased. "i... i'm a baker! a really good one and i have a blog and a youtube channel and i always film at home because.... because i love to and yeah... i've been doing this since i was 14 and now, i'm 24 and i don't film myself doing weird stuff with whipped cream! you weren't probably thinking about that but a girl who lives in a big house, had a camera set up and pointing to whipped cream and a banana? haha, it is weird, right? anyway... "she offered the box to him. "yeah, i'm sorry. i ramble a lot when i'm nervous but i am a pretty good baker so, please, take them. although i don’t know if you are the type of man who likes swe-“

kei laughed, hiding his mouth with his hand, shaking his head and she just stopped talking, hoping the ground would open and eat her.

“you do ramble”

“sorry! i… sorry”

kei smiled, taking the box from her hands, opening it, mouth watering at the sight of the freshly baked cookies, an arrangement of different flavors.

“i’ll be honest. i thought you were doing weird stuff.”

“i know.” she sighed. “it has happened before, that's why i moved here, my landlord actually threw me out of my last apartment because people were complaining and thinking that... well, yeah... sometimes brands ask me to film tutorials and they spend a lot of money on them so there has been a whole set up of cameras at home, which doesn’t look good in my neighbors’ eyes.” she looked up, hiding her hands on the pockets of her coat. "i'm rambling again, sorry."

“no, i'm sorry. i'm sorry that happened to you.”

“don’t be.” she smiled and kei reciprocated her smile and she just waved, turning to go back home. "well, see you around, i guess."

before she could make a quick exit, kei grabbed the sleeve of her coat.

“sorry, i…” kei looked at her. “would you like to stay for dinner? hana would love having you for dinner and i… i would like to know more about your weird filming experiences.”

(y/n) smiled, nodding.

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

kei: hey, why don't you take a few extra days to relax?

akiteru: did something happen? is hana okay?

kei: everything’s fine, trust me.

kei: so?

akiteru: yeah, why not? we trust you.

akiteru: btw say hello to lovely (y/n) from us! if she bakes something, keep it on the fridge.

kei: wtf

*akiteru reacted with haha*

akiteru: remember, hana loves gossip, you’re not safe.

*kei reacted with an angry-faced emoji*

[sowhat-whynot]

write a hamzah x reader pregnancy journey and cute moments and headcanons and how happy he is to have a daughter in the end!

Pregnancy journey headcanons!

a/n: this request is so cute omfg and hamzah is such a girl dad im so glad this was requested.

dad!hamzah x fem reader

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

⊹ When you told Hamzah you were pregnant, he was very shocked but he then got so excited to become a dad. He hugged you for minutes before letting you go “oh my god y/n this is crazy” he said before pulling you into a kiss.

⊹ You & Hamzah decide to surprise Mandy & Martin with a baby shirt saying “I ♡ my aunt and uncle” and they looked at you guys confused. “Are you guys fucking with us?” Mandy gasped in realization. Martin was so excited and he quickly hugged Hamzah. Mandy got up and sobbed into your arms.

⊹ Ever since the day Hamzah found out you were pregnant, he would not let you do anything yourself. “Hamzah i dont need help grabbing a plate” you say. He just wants this pregnancy to be as smooth as possible :(

⊹ Once your belly starts noticeably growing, he will not keep his hands off it. Every night before bed, he’ll put his head against your belly and say “goodnight baby, mommy and daddy are waiting for you”. This will never fail to make you smile it also just makes you love him more.

⊹ After finding out you’ll be having a baby girl, Hamzah is thrilled to become a girl dad because he knows he’ll be the best father to her. He even has girl names he keeps on his notes app!

⊹ Mandy & Martin will sometimes come over to gift you guys baby toys, dresses, and blankets for the baby. Kinda like how they gifted cat necessities to Hamzah.

⊹ Weird food cravings start happening and Hamzah had learned his lesson and it was to not make fun of your cravings. He did that once and you ended up in tears. You thought he found you disgusting it’s crazy how hormones can change people so quickly.

⊹ On days where you feel tired and sick, Hamzah always tried his best to make you feel better like showering you with kisses and compliments. After all, you are carrying his baby.

⊹ Days before giving birth, Hamzah is going crazy and he’s nervous, he’s acting like he’s the one giving birth.

⊹ As soon as you both hear your newborn’s cries, Hamzah kisses your forehead while holding back tears. He’s so proud of you and is so happy his daughter is here 😞

⊹ He is so freaking obsessed with her and he feels like his world is complete. And yes she did inherit her dad’s curls!!

⊹ Hamzah knows how tired you are after sleepless nights so he prepares milk for the baby, changes diapers, and even cleans the house while you and baby sleep. What an angel…

⊹ Sometimes you even catch him sleeping on the bed with the baby sleeping soundly on his chest and you will snap a pic every time!

⊹ Red & Blue are also great with the baby and find her relaxing to be around. They even get close to sniff her head hehe.

⊹ Months later when your daughter starts crawling, Hamzah is quite sad to see her grow, he swears she was just born 2 days ago….

⊹ One day you woke up from a nap finding that the house was oddly quiet. You walk into the living room, calling out Hamzah’s name but got no response. Your worry washes over when you hear laughter coming from the backyard. Sure enough, you found Hamzah playing with his daughter and Red & Blue. The sight was so beautiful, you didn’t wanna ruin the moment, so you end up watching from afar with the biggest smile on your face.

Yes i did get this idea from Lana Del Rey’s lyric from “how to disappear” - “i’ve got a kid and two cats in the yard” 😞

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

save me dad!hamzah save me please

[kneecapsbelong2me]

Kate Bishop x Reader HC:

Your OG Avenger parents find out you’re dating Kate

Pairings: Kate Bishop x Reader (romantic); Thor, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers and/x Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Clint Barton x Linda Barton, and Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill x Reader (familial) (No pronouns used)

Content Warnings: Kate being in a medically induced coma (Natasha’s HC only)

———————————————————————

Thor

Thor talks with you about your romantic life

It’s not an awkward thing, it’s just how your relationship has always been

You don’t talk about your courtships often, but if you don’t mention anyone to him for a couple months, he’ll ask about it

So as soon as Kate gives you her blessing, you tell your dad

You’re having your weekly dinner together when you tell him.

“Father, I’m dating someone new.”

“Wonderful!” Thor claps a hand on your back. “Woman? Man? Somewhere in between?”

“A woman. Kate Bishop.”

Your dad smiles. “The little hawk! Good, I like her. Bring her to dinner sometime so we can get more closely acquainted. I can tell her stories of your childhood.”

“Father!” Your protest falls on deaf ears as he keeps talking

“Yes, she will know all about how mighty you were, even as a little one. I can even show her the pictures—“

“Dad!”

Bruce Banner

Bruce knows you’re hiding something from him

But you don’t appear to be in any danger, so he doesn’t bring it up with you

You’ll tell him whatever it is when you’re ready

You know your dad knows that you’re hiding something

You also know he doesn’t know what you’re hiding

He’s never been the best at talking about feelings—his or yours

Especially romantic ones

When he gave you “the talk” he was more embarrassed about it than you, even though he kept reassuring you that everything your body felt and did was normal

He couldn’t make eye contact with you for a week after that

But his awkwardness isn’t the reason you haven’t told him your secret

You just don’t want to say anything until you’re sure your relationship is at least a semi-long-term thing

“Hey, dad?”

“Hm?” Bruce looks up from tinkering on his latest project

“I have to tell you something,” you fidget a little

“Sure,” he gestures to a free stool, “is everything okay?”

You suck in a deep breath. “Everything is great, actually. I, uh,”

Your dad looks at you expectantly. His calm demeanor is simultaneously soothing and nerve-wracking

“So, I’ve been seeing someone. A girl, specifically. One you know, actually. And we’re officially together - as in, she’s my girlfriend - so I thought I should tell you…and yeah,” you finish your rambling, breathless and with warm cheeks

“That’s great,” he smiles, “do I get to know which girl?”

Oh. In your rush to tell him, you’d completely neglected to mention the fact that you’re dating

“Kate Bishop.”

“Oh. Wow,” your dad’s face has gone from happy to surprised, and you feel your anxiety start to creep up again. He sees the look on your face and immediately stammers, “no no no, I’m happy for you, kid. I just didn’t realize she was your type. I mean, I didn’t really have any idea about what your type was before this, and I’m glad Kate is…I’m glad she makes you happy. She does make you happy, right?”

You definitely got your rambling from your dad. You smile, “she makes me really happy.”

“Well good,” Bruce wrings his hands together, “you deserve to be happy. And if she ever stops making you happy you tell me, okay?”

“Okay, dad.” It’s cute when he gets protective over you.

“I love you,” he stands and wraps an arm around you

“I love you too.”

Steve Rogers (and/x Bucky Barnes)

You and your dad have a tradition of watching movies together whenever you both have a free Friday night

Usually, your Uncle Bucky joins you, and when your dad is on a mission you occasionally watch with your uncle instead

But there are times when all three of you are busy, so you’re pretty sure you’re safe when you cancel occasionally to hang out with “friends”

AKA your girlfriend, Kate Bishop

(But sometimes your friends too)

It’s a Friday night, and Steve and Bucky are both on missions

You miss them, you don’t have anything else to do, and it’s been a while since your last movie night

So you decide to have Kate over instead

You end up with Kate cuddled into your side with your arm wrapped around her, both of you yawning even though you’re only halfway through the movie

Kate kisses your cheek lazily, “what if I just…” she begins lowering herself onto your lap, “close my eyes for a second? Not to sleep, just to rest.”

You laugh and card your fingers through her hair. She sighs contentedly, and soon you’re both dozing on the couch

Before you know it, someone is gently shaking your shoulder

“Whuh?” You startle awake and see Bucky staring down at you. Kate shifts, still asleep

“Hey kid.” He ruffles your hair

All the drowsiness instantly leaves your body as excitement takes over. Your dad and uncle weren’t supposed to be home for another few days

“Uncle Bucky!”

This finally wakes Kate, who rubs her eyes blearily, “Babe, wha—?” She stops mid-question when her eyes land on Bucky, “I-I mean…Bucky! Hi! Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Nice save, Bishop,” Bucky smirks

Kate sits up and buries her face in the crook of your neck, groaning softly. “Sorry, babe”

You and Bucky stare at each other, daring the other to break the silence as you rub slow circles on Kate’s back

“So,” Bucky finally breaks, more for your benefit than anything else, “you and Bishop?”

This makes your face heat up. “Don’t tell dad. Please?” You beg. You’ve never brought anyone home before, and this is not the introduction you want

“Don’t tell me what?” Your dad picks that moment to walk in. Kate leans back from you to an approximately platonic distance

The look your uncle gives you says he’s not going to tell your dad, but you probably should

“I, uh, so the thing is—“

“We’re dating,” Kate blurts out, unable to resist Steve’s Captain America stare

Your dad looks at you, dumbfounded. “Oh,” he finally gets out

“Dad?”

“Well, I, for one, am happy for you two,” Bucky claps a hand on your shoulder

“As long as Hawkeye Junior doesn’t break your heart,” Steve levels Kate with an intense look and the latter aggressively shakes her head. He smiles, “and she has good taste in movies.”

relief floods you, even though Kate is a stuttering mess

“Yes, sir. I promise I have excellent taste in movies, Captain Rogers, sir.”

“Good,” Steve moves to sit on the couch and wraps an arm around you, the other beckoning to Bucky. “So, what are we watching?”

Tony Stark and Pepper Potts

Growing up, you’d see Kate at various functions

Your families ran in similar circles

You didn’t really get to know each other until high school, when you went to the same boarding school

The two of you quickly became best friends, but it took years for the two of you to realize your feelings weren’t just friendly

You agree not to tell your parents about your relationship because you don’t want things to get messy

But Kate is still your unofficial, official date to your dad’s annual New Year’s Eve party

At 11:59, the two of you sneak away from the party to your dad’s office and step out on the balcony as the countdown to midnight begins

You kiss her exactly at midnight, and you might…get carried away

You’re so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice your dad and your step-mom open the door behind you

“Kid!” Tony is shocked to see you like this. “and Miss Bishop. What a surprise.” He doesn’t sound surprised at all to see Kate here

You and Kate jump back from each other at the intrusion, and your cheeks begin to heat up

“Dad! Mo—Pepper! What are you doing here?”

Your dad raises his eyebrows, “what am I doing? In my office?”

You have enough self-respect left to look decently sheepish. You’re waiting for Tony to chew you out when Pepper turns to him and smirks

“You owe me 50 bucks.”

Tony groans. “Thanks a lot, kid.”

“Wait, you were betting on me and Kate? How did you even know I liked her?”

Pepper turns her smirk to you, “we raised you, honey. We know you better than you think.”

“We’ll leave you two alone now,” Tony opens the door. “Just make sure to use protection,” he calls as he steps inside, Pepper following close behind

You bury your face in Kate’s chest and groan, “Daaaaad, gross!”

“Well, that went better than expected.” Kate’s shaking, and it’s not immediately obvious if it’s from fear or laughter.

You get your answer when you pull back and find her eyes gleaming. She kisses you again, a little more passionately

“Now, where were we?”

Clint and Linda Barton

You originally met Kate at a college archery tournament, and the two of you became fast friends, and then something more

She practically worships your dad, but you don’t tell her who he is to you

You use your mom’s maiden name in public for safety reasons, and you want Kate to like you for you, not because of your dad

After talking and going on dates for months, you finally asked Kate to be your girlfriend during Thanksgiving

It’s too soon to meet each other’s families, so you don’t invite her over for Christmas

So imagine your surprise when your dad walks in after being delayed in the city with your girlfriend and a golden retriever in tow

You stare, slack-jawed, unable to hide your surprise, Kate’s face a mirror of your own

“…and this is my eldest—“

Your name tumbles from Kate’s lips before she can stop herself

“You two know each other?” The look your mom is giving you tells you the gears are already turning in her mind. You haven’t told her you have a girlfriend, but she’s always known you so well

Kate’s eyes go wide in panic, “we know each other from archery!” She looks at you accusingly, and you know you’re in trouble, “I didn’t know Hawkeye was your dad.”

“How well do you know each other?” your dad is making weird eye contact with your mom, a clear sign they’re having a silent conversation. Your parents turn to look at you

Lila rolls her eyes. She’s the only person in your family who knows about you and Kate. Little sister privileges. “Guys, just ask the question you actually want to.”

“Is Kate your girlfriend?” Nate asks, saving your parents the trouble. Damn, the kid’s perceptive

You pick him up and look at Kate, silently asking if she’s okay with this. She nods. You turn to Nate and say, “She is, bud.”

“Well, I guess you two shouldn’t stay in the same room,” Clint says, “and Kate and I are going to go out into the woods and have a talk about what’s going to happen if she hurts you.”

“Dad, I’m an adult. I’m old enough to share a room with my girlfriend responsibly.” You don’t even try to argue with him about giving Kate the shovel talk. He’s done it to every partner his kids have brought home

“Bring the poor girl back in one piece, Clint,” your mom winks at Kate, who smiles nervously. Laura’s gaze hardens

“I want to have a chat with her as well.”

Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill

Your moms are extremely protective of you

This extends to your personal life

They run thorough background checks on all of your friends and their families

You know they will be even worse if you bring someone home

They’ve interrogated hundreds of people, and they know all about psychological torture

So…yeah, you haven’t told them you’re dating Kate Bishop

It’s hard keeping it from them, especially because they’re spies and you and Kate are both Avengers

But you’ve been incredibly careful

Whenever you’re in public, the two of you are just a pair of platonic bffs

But then Kate gets hurt on a mission

As soon as she’s brought to the Compound you’re by her side and you refuse to leave

They keep her sedated, but you still talk to her

“Hey, Katie.” You hold her hand and talk about anything and everything

Your moms walk in when you’re talking to her

“—and for our anniversary I was thinking we should recreate our first date,”

“Hi baby,” Natasha’s words startle you out of your rambling

“Mama! How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know you’ve been hiding your relationship from us,” Maria crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow

You gulp. “I wasn’t hiding it from you, I just didn’t say anything.”

Maria sighs. “We’ll talk about this later. How’s she doing?” She asks, gesturing towards Kate

“Stable. Her vitals are strong, and she’s starting to wake up on her own”

Maria puts a hand on your shoulder and looks directly into your eyes. “And how are you doing, kiddo?”

“I’m scared, Mom. I’m trying to be brave for her but it’s hard.”

“Oh, baby.” Your moms wrap you in a hug.

“We know how hard it is to see someone you care about like this,” Natasha says. Maria nods,

“We’re here for you, whatever you need.”

“Are you mad that I never told you about me and Kate?” You ask in a small voice

Natasha shakes her head. “Baby, no. We’re not mad. We feel bad you didn’t feel comfortable telling us sooner.”

“But we do want to talk to Kate once she feels better.”

“Mooooom, please don’t threaten my girlfriend.”

“We won’t threaten her, we’re just going to make sure she has good intentions and let her know what will happen if she breaks your heart.”

“Mama!”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

loml

Request: absolutely need u to write a fic about roy kent’s controversially young ex gf writing so long, london about him and the teams reaction to the realization. happy ending or not 👀

Roy Kent x Popstar

1.7k words

Warnings: Language, angst, age gap, did I mention angst?

A/N: It's been a minute since I posted anything! This definitely put me deep in my feelings, not gonna lie. Enjoy all the emotions 😝

Roy clenched his jaw as he rounded the corner to head towards the changing room and his office. There wasn’t the usual ruckus that greeted him before training; instead, he followed the sound of what he realized was music. And it wasn’t the usual rap or energetic pop the lads usually blasted and sang along with, either. No, this was slow, haunting, something that left Roy tightening his grip around his black duffel bag.

Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy ...

So long, London

You'll find someone ...

The breath caught in Roy’s throat as he came to a skidding stop outside the changing room door. He knew that voice. He’d heard that voice humming in his kitchen. Giggling in his ear. Whispering into his chest. Sighing in his bed. For almost two years, that voice had filled his home and his heart, bringing warmth and joy to both places. And the lips that voice came from always formed the most beautiful smile, the smile he always wanted to kiss right off that pretty face- and fuck, he sure tried his best every chance he got.

Gritting his teeth, Roy took one step into the changing room, doing his best to ignore the immediate stares of his squad. He hated the looks on their faces, all filled with sympathy, reminding him way too much of the faces he saw after his retirement. He swore he saw guilt in some of their expressions, too.

Of course they felt guilty. They’d been caught listening to his ex-girlfriend’s new album. The album that had skyrocketed to the top of the charts since its release over the weekend. The album Roy couldn’t quite bring himself to listen to yet. The album, he knew, that she had written about him.

Refusing to meet anyone’s eye, Roy stalked into his office, closing the door firmly behind him. Beard and Nate were nowhere to be found; they were probably on the pitch, he reasoned. He ignored the feeling that they’d probably want to give him some space with the album’s release.

Everything had started off innocently enough. He’d taken Phoebe to one of her concerts, motivated purely by his desire to be a good uncle. Keeley had been kind enough to arrange a meet-and-greet before the show. And, while Pheebs was definitely thrilled to be meeting the popstar, it was Roy who was left completely starstruck. She was beautiful and charming, not to mention down-to-earth and so kind to his niece. He spent the whole concert enchanted, jaw slacking slightly as he watched her strut around the stage with a magnetism he wasn’t sure he’d ever encountered before.

Fuck the almost two decades between them; Roy Kent was smitten.

Apparently the feeling was mutual, because the next thing he knew he and Phoebe were invited backstage after the concert, where the young singer had shyly thanked them for coming and asked if she could come watch the Greyhounds sometime. She was so timid for someone who had just rocked a stadium filled to the brim with thousands of screaming fans; Roy found her bashful, blushing face nothing short of endearing. How could he ever say no to her?

So he didn't. For two years, he never said no to her. He wanted to adore and spoil her the way no one else ever had, and she let him. The only condition was he had to let her do the same. So, for the first time in goodness knows how long, Roy Kent let himself be loved.

It was perfect. She was perfect. Roy found himself laughing and smiling more than he ever had in his entire miserable life, and it was all her fault. Never mind the articles and tweets about their age difference, condemning him for being with what they called a “twenty-year-old girl”. (They never could differentiate between twenty and mid-twenties, Roy had thought as he rolled his eyes at yet another opinion piece about his relationship.) They had both agreed that the abundance of affection and respect between them was more than enough to ignore what she always called the “haters”, and he called “wankers with nothing better to do”.

After about a year together, Roy found himself thinking about houses. And rings. And babies. And forever. And less and less about their age difference. While he never said flat-out that he wanted to marry her, they both seemed to know where things were headed. And, thanks to her songwriting, so did her fans. Not that Roy minded; for once, he was in a relationship where he didn’t mind having his business paraded around for the world to see. Hell, he even did some of the parading from time to time.

But, like every other good thing in Roy Kent’s life, it didn’t last forever.

He could deal with the judgy headlines. He could deal with the invasive paparazzi. He could deal with the ribbing from his friends and family. He could even deal with being the subject of pretty love songs. But just as he was starting to look at engagement rings, an article came across his newsfeed. And this one, unlike the million others he’d ignored and rolled his eyes at, gave him pause.

It was about her. It was about how young she was, how in the prime of her career she was. About how Roy was going to tie her down and take her out of the spotlight. About how she could say goodbye to the already legendary career she’d spent the better part of a decade building. About how all that hard work, all that potential, would be swept away the moment he put a ring on her finger.

About how it would be all Roy’s fault.

He couldn’t do that. Not to her. So, he made up some shit about not being ready to settle down, about how he didn’t think marriage was for him, about how he didn’t want to waste her time. And she’d listened, with those understanding eyes and her mouth in a straight line. While she wasn’t afraid to shed a couple of tears in front of him, she didn’t shout or fight him. All she did was lean close and ask one little question:

“Are you sure?”

No. No, Roy wasn’t fucking sure. He had never been less sure in his entire fucking life. As she gathered her things in stony silence, Roy had to stop himself from telling her to stop, that he’d made a mistake and that of course he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But, like the idiot he was, he just watched silently. And he watched as she disappeared from the public eye, as the papers reported their breakup, as she reemerged at the fabulous parties thrown by her fabulous friends, as her outings with various men sparked rumors of new romances; in short, Roy watched as she moved on from him.

And now, a little less than a year after their breakup, with the release of this new album, he was sure she’d cemented how over him she was.

Despite knowing he had a football team waiting out on the pitch, Roy decided he needed to listen. To one song, at least, he reasoned with himself as he opened the music app on his mobile. Beard and Nate could handle the team for a few minutes, couldn’t they?

As he skimmed the track titles, he spotted one that caught his eye: So Long, London. He’d heard that phrase in the song the guys were playing; surely this had to be the same song, right? With a trembling breath, he clicked on the song and closed his eyes.

I stopped trying to make him laugh.

I stopped CPR, after all it's no use. The spirit was gone, we would never come to.

And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free.

I'll find someone.

Just how low did you think I'd go?

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof.

For so long, London… Had a good run… A moment of warm sun… But I'm not the one.

Every word stabbed at the heart Roy hadn’t realized was still so fucking raw. All that regret that he’d buried away under football and bottles of beer finally bubbled back to the surface, reminding him of how deeply he wished he could go back in time and stop himself from letting her go. He somehow felt even more gutted than he did the day he lied and said he didn’t want to be with her anymore.

“Fuck,” he growled, stopping the music and opening his texts. He typed that familiar name, pulling up texts that he hadn’t looked at in months. He gulped, remembering all the memes, all the texts about what to have for dinner.

She’d probably ignore his text, he warned himself as he started typing. Hell, she probably already had him blocked. Part of him hoped she did; it would be a lot better than the absolute dressing down he deserved after breaking her lovely heart.

Still. That stupid little part of him that was willing to admit that he was still completely in love with her emboldened him.

She’d always made fun of him for signing his texts, he recalled with a reflexive smirk. She’d made fun of him for lots of things; fuck, he missed her teasing, the way she’d raise an eyebrow when he growled at her to fuck off. The way she’d lean close and hum, “Make me.” The way-

Hey, just listened to ‘London’. Incredible as always. I’m sure the rest is too.

-Roy

The whistle from the mobile in his hand dragged Roy out of his reminiscing. With another gulp he looked down at the first message she’d sent in months.

Thanks, Roy! I’ll actually be in London next week. Maybe we could catch up while I’m in town.

Despite himself, a smile broke out across his face. He wasn’t much of a believer in second chances, or fate, or happily ever afters. He was so sure all good things had to come to an end eventually.

But maybe, just maybe, some things could begin again.

Tags: @i-am-mrsreckless

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Nat and Bob are in imminent danger, Bradley is beyond furious about the decisions that have been made. It should have been him up there flying with them. As you count down the minutes until Bradley returns home, the rush of nerves feels more like anxiety than anticipation, and that does not feel good.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Now that you were just a few days out from Bradley's return home, you were starting to feel antsy and anxious. This wasn't the way you usually felt. It used to be a rush of energy thrumming through your body, knowing he'd be back soon to hold you all night, make love to you, and fill the little pieces of your life that were lost without him. But now you just felt unsure.

When you really thought about it, you knew you and he had been missing the intimacy in your relationship for a little while, too focused on other things. The sex was still enjoyable... well, except for the last time when you felt sick with obligation. And he still held you all night. But some of the pieces of your life together felt like they had gotten lost, and you desperately wanted to find them. Because feeling nervous about reaching those previously known levels of happiness and intimacy when Bradley got back was not something you were prepared for.

So you talked to Dr. Genevieve again, and in her cool and collected voice, she said, "If something is broken, you either take the time to fix it, or you abandon it. And when it's a relationship, you don't have the luxury of making that decision alone. Do you want to fix it or abandon it?"

"I want to fix it," you replied easily. 

"And what did your husband say when you spoke to him?"

Your heart thudded in your chest as you replayed the facetime conversations in your mind and whispered, "He wants to fix it, too." 

She nodded. "Then you'll both take the time to do that."

Afterwards, you felt like hiding in your office, because what did that even mean? You knew what you wanted, but you didn't know how to get it. And you tried your best not to focus on your cycle and wanting to get pregnant, but it would have been impossible to forget about it completely. Where was the balance? You were simultaneously antsy for Bradley to get home so you could see if putting in the time to fix things was worth it and also scared that it wouldn't be.

Instead of hiding in your office, you made your way down to get a burrito bowl for lunch. "Is this seat taken?" you asked Jake, kicking the leg of his chair with your boot and nodding toward the empty seat across from him at the small table. 

"Angel," he said, meeting your smile with a look of panic. "You know I love you, right? But I saved it for Cat. Unless she decides to bail."

"Oh," you gasped, a little surprised by that. When you, Javy and Jake had gone out for pizza two nights ago, Jake claimed he was going to let Cat decide if she wanted to try to be friends with him, but you knew he was hoping for more. He sat on your couch with Jeremiah until Hondo showed up, and Jake didn't back down against the glare from Cat's Uncle. "Guess she's into the idea of hanging out? That's good?"

He kind of shrugged. "Listen, all I want to do is make out with her and hold her kid, but don't tell her that, alright? Oh, there she is."

"She didn't bail," you murmured, watching Cat make her way toward you. When she saw the small table with only two chairs, her steps slowed.

"Go," Jake growled, planting his palm against your lower back and shoving you out of the way. "I'll call you after work."

"Jeez," you groaned, glaring at him and heading toward Cam instead.

"Hey, stranger," Cam said as you sat down across from him, and soon Maria joined the two of you. Eating with them was familiar and comfortable, and you didn't have to think about it too much.

When they asked if you wanted to do brunch on Sunday, you smiled and shook your head. "No way. Bradley's coming home on Friday."

Cam smirked and said, "Oof. Lieutenant Commander Mustache returns home to his little wifey after his long, hard deployment. Sounds like a Lifetime movie."

"I don't know," Maria added. "You said long and hard. Kinda sounds like a porno."

You sat with your forehead on your tray as you shook with silent laughter. "Maybe it'll be a bit of both?"

Cam stole a bite of your burrito bowl as he said, "Report back."

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

Bradley had been chosen as the spare. When Dean told him after he had dismissed everyone else, Bradley knew it was simply to add insult to injury. But he took it on the chin, saluted the admiral, and returned to his bunk.

If Bradley said more than two words to anyone the following day, that was news to him. Nat and Bob gave him a wide berth as they got themselves prepared for the mission, and he appreciated that. He wasn't jealous of them, and he'd been quick to tell them that. And he knew they understood. This was a feeling that came along with the territory, he supposed. But this would mark the first mission he didn't qualify for, and he just needed to take a breather. 

Getting home to you was now his priority, his focus. If he could only be successful in the air or on the ground right now, he was going to choose the ground in San Diego with you. But that didn't stop him from worrying about Bob and Nat flying with Slayer. 

Bradley collapsed back onto his bed with his notebook. He decided to read what he wrote. He hadn't done that yet, favoring scribbling more thoughts and sentiments down every time he picked it up. But reading it from the beginning calmed him down, and just the thought of you made him finally able to fall asleep. 

Bright and early the next morning, he and Bob were both dressing in their flight suits. They walked to breakfast together and ate with Nat. Then the three of them made their way out onto the tarmac. But instead of being part of the main bustle of action, Bradley saluted his friends and stood next to his aircraft with his helmet on. 

The weather looked good, and the comanche was reporting back that everything looked clear. But just before the four aircrafts were due to take off, Admiral Dean made a surprising announcement over the comms. 

"Initiate the backup plan! Option B! Strike the military base first and then head back around to the communications tower. Follow the flight plan for Option B. Please respond that you understand in order."

Bradley climbed the ladder into his F/A-18 as he listened to Nat respond, saying that she copied Dean's orders. This was not a good sign that the plan was changing on the fly. There were probably loads of enemy aircrafts already airborne if such a drastic decision was being made, and Bradley automatically switched to the updated flightpath in his mind, even though he wouldn't be flying it. But being able to envision what was going on might help keep him calm. 

He got himself strapped in and ran his thumb along his silicone wedding band before sliding his hands into his gloves. And then he waited. He watched intently and listened over the comms, and when it was his turn, he said, "Rooster. Spare. Standing by."

The carrier was outrageously far out in the ocean right now. Nearly five hundred miles away from the coastline. And as he watched Nat and Bob launch from the deck, he kept his eyes on them as they faded into the late morning sunlight. It would be about thirty minutes until they were flying over land, and another five minutes more until they reached the military base. 

So he would have to sit here and wait for nearly an hour and a goddamn half while worrying about his friends and having an existential crisis about his career before they all returned and he could get changed out of his flight suit. 

"Unbelievable," he muttered to himself as he listened to the others over the comms. Slayer had been named team leader, and right now he was trying to boss Nat around. She wasn't having it though, and Bradley smiled as he listened in. 

But a few minutes later, he heard the radar tech from the comanche give a heads up that there were some enemy aircraft nearby. And then Slayer said, "Everyone else stay on course, I'll switch to tack northwest and hit the communications tower first."

Bradley lurched fully upright in his cockpit. He must have heard incorrectly. No way Slayer would deviate from the plans like that. But Bradley could hear Nat's panicked voice saying, "You won't have our laser guide! And we won't have your missiles! Stay on course, Slayer!"

"I'm the leader, Phoenix. You stay on course. I'll loop back around. It will be fine."

There was so much commotion all of a sudden, Bradley could only hear a jumble of voices inside his helmet. He did some quick math, visualizing the terrain maps he'd had memorized for nearly two months. Five hundred miles out. Five hundred back. They weren't flying at maximum speed, but they were still burning fuel fast, hauling almost two dozen missiles. There was absolutely no way Slayer would make it back to the carrier if he tried to switch course now and rendezvous with the others at the military base. He'd run out of fuel halfway back to the aircraft carrier. 

"Stay on course!" Admiral Dean demanded loudly. "Everyone stay on course!"

But Slayer was already gone. And now the comanche radar tech was reporting four more enemy fighters in the vicinity of the military base. Bradley pounded his fist on the side of his seat. Nat and Bob were completely fucking screwed. And so were Charmer, Mack and Terror. Unless all six aviators were working in unison, this was going to result in a tragedy. 

"Come on, come on," Bradley chanted under his breath, his fingers already twitching along his control panels. He thought about his friends whose handful of missiles would only get them so far before they were dead without cover. And he thought about you, but then again you were never far from his mind. His perfect wife. The main reason he did anything.

Finally his thoughts settled on the fact that he'd left his wedding band at home with you, and he felt calm knowing that you'd always wear it on your chain. 

"Send the spare." His Super Hornet was being towed to the catapult.

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

It was a weird, stormy evening. There were clouds rolling in from the ocean, and although you could see a lot of lightning and hear thunder, it hadn't started raining yet. So you put on Bradley's sweatshirt and clipped Tramp's leash onto his collar, running your fingers along the tags your husband had gotten engraved for him. 

"Yeah, you're spoiled," you told the dog as you pocketed some treats for him. Then the two of you ventured outside and along the blocks that would take you to the beach. The wind was blowing harder down here, whipping the sand and dune grass around. But the beach was completely deserted, and the storm looked intoxicating. 

As you walked along the water's edge, your flip flops and sweatpants got soaked. Tramp kept pausing to look out into the ocean, and you said, "Daddy's out there. Somewhere." You weren't sure exactly when the mission was being flown. It could have already been completed. You had enough clearance at work to be able to find out for sure, but if Bradley caught wind of that kind of behavior, he would have a fit. You knew he didn't want you worrying about him. 

Tramp whimpered and started barking, and then the clouds rolled in faster. A loud crack of thunder had you running back up the beach with Tramp right next to you. By the time you ran up past the dunes, the sky opened up. You turned back to look at the ocean one last time before hard raindrops started pelting your exposed skin. It was almost painful, and it was hard to keep your eyes open as you made your way back to the pretty craftsman. 

You stood on the covered porch, looking down at your sandy, drenched dog and laughing. "Come here," you said before scooping him up and carrying him right into the bathroom, leaving a sandy trail along the way. 

If Bradley were here, he would take Tramp off your hands and clean him up as you soaked in the tub yourself. But for now, you'd do everything. He'd be back soon. You would take the time to fix things soon.

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

Once Bradley was in the air, the clock was ticking down the minutes until he could see land and locate the others. He'd been given permission to hit mach 1.8. Actually, he'd been given permission to do whatever was necessary. "Spare inbound. Land sighted," he said, easing back on the throttle a bit as he banked along the mountain range and dipped past the river that would lead him to the recently destroyed military base. 

Slayer had managed to destroy the communications tower as part of the solo mission he decided to go on, but at what cost? He got so far off course from the others, and backtracking would have eaten so much fuel. Bradley listened as he was called back to the carrier where he would be safe while everyone else was now in danger. 

Bradley was getting closer now as he listened to what was going on and tried to visualize it.

"Tally, tally! On your nose, Phoenix!"

"Deploying flares!"

"Incoming at twelve o'clock!"

"I can't shake them, Charmer!"

"I'm out of missiles and flares! Switching to guns!"

"We took a hit!"

He would know Nat's voice anywhere, but hearing her say that she and Bob had been hit had Bradley flying way faster than he should have been this close to the river embankment. But one more cut through the mountains, and the aircrafts were in sight. And it was the worst kind of dog fight. 

The air was a mess of flares as Bradley immediately spotted missiles being launched at Charmer. And he knew Charmer said he was out of defensive aids. 

"Tally, tally!" Bradley called out. "Bandit on your nose, Terror!" Then he laid down a cover of flares for Charmer as the other pilot eliminated one enemy with his guns. "Phoenix! Bob! How bad is it?" Bradley asked, deftly launching a missile and watching it collide with the wing of the jet that was headed for Terror. The enemy pilot ejected, but there was no point in pursuit. Not on a rescue mission. 

"We're leaking fuel," Bob shouted, and Bradley could actually hear all of the alarms going off in their Super Hornet through the comms. "Rapidly." Then Phoenix dodged past Charmer and shot down another enemy jet. "And we're out of ammo," Bob added.

"Head back, I'll lay down cover for you," Bradley told them. "Go!" There were still two Bandits, but his friends would never make it back anywhere near the carrier if they delayed leaving. He could smell the jet fuel as it permeated the air around him, and he just knew what a hazard that was. He prayed nothing would cause an explosion at this point.

"Out of ammo now," Charmer reported, and now Bradley was starting to panic. But then he saw the opening they needed. 

"Terror! Follow my lead!" The remaining Bandits saw how vulnerable Nat and Bob were and started to pursue them, so Bradley circled back to get their attention on him.

"I'm almost out of ammo!" Terror responded, getting into position. 

"Then don't miss." Bradley fired his last missile at the first one and then joined Terror and Mack in shooting down the other one. 

"That's splash six!" Charmer announced. 

"Is that everyone?" Terror asked. 

"Affirmative. That's everyone," Mack confirmed. 

"I want everyone back on this carrier, now!" Dean nearly shouted through the comms, and Bradley rolled his eyes. "Phoenix, land first, if you can even get here!"

Then thankfully he eventually heard Nat say, "We're limping in slowly now. It's gonna be close."

What a fucking nightmare this had turned out to be. As Bradley flew cleanup, since he was the only one with bullets and flares left, he kept his head on a swivel. "Comanche? Incoming?"

"Negative. Picture looks clean."

"And an ETA for Phoenix and Bob?" he asked as he followed Charmer and Terror out over the water.

"Seven minutes."

Bradley swore he didn't breathe and barely moved as he flew further away from the coastline. He didn't dare think about anything except the passing clouds overhead and the sound of his own heart beating. He didn't utter another word until he heard Nat say, "Coming in hot! Banking toward the tower. Full engine failure, no fuel to the feedline. Tailhook extended and hoping for the best."

"Come on, Nat." Bradley still couldn't see anything up ahead, but when the tower announced that Phoenix and Bob were safely on deck, he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

When he was able to circle the carrier and see it for himself, Bradley loosened his death grip on the throttle. And when he landed cleanly, that signaled that everyone was back on deck. The crews came to help him unload, and as soon as his boots left the last rung on the ladder, Nat was tossing her helmet aside and reaching for him.

"Thank you," she whispered against his shoulder. 

Years of trust and friendship had him clinging to her. "It should have been me up there with you two the whole time."

"I know. That was so fucked, Rooster."

And then Bob was there as well, looking more flustered than Bradley had seen him all deployment long. But then Bradley pushed past both of them and tossed his own helmet, shouting "What the hell, Slayer!"

But Slayer barely acknowledged him as he walked toward the tower looking like he was headed for the gallows. Bradley stood there, drenched in sweat and reeking of jet fuel, and watched the other aviator as a red faced Admiral Dean appeared on deck and started yelling. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that Slayer fucked everything up or that Bradley saved the day. The only thing that counted now was getting home to you.

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

Friday morning seemed to stretch on for an eternity. You didn't have a specific time to expect Bradley to unload from the carrier, so you decided to go to work until you heard from him. When Bickel called you in for a progress meeting on all of the lab projects, you hauled a stack of folders in with you. And that's when you fully realized that over several years of working with him, he had made you his number two. He always wanted your opinion the most.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as you set everything down on his desk and took a seat. He met your eyes, and he was expecting an honest answer, but you knew he wouldn't give you a hard time. 

"Better. Bradley is coming home today," you told him. "Thanks again." But he just waved you off like it was no big deal and opened up the top folder on the stack. 

Later when you went down to eat lunch, you got cornered by Jake. "Come sit with me."

You just smirked as you grabbed a fistful of tiny packets of hot sauce. "Don't you want to sit with Cat?"

"No, I want to sit with you. Rooster comes back today, and I'll never see you again," he replied. "I know you're struggling, but the two of you will be disgusting again soon."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were nervous. It had been building up all week. Part of you just wanted to get this over with and work things out, and part of you wanted to bask in Bradley's words as he told you how much he missed and loved you. If he told you those things. 

"I miss being disgusting," you told Jake as you followed him to a table. "But I still want to have a baby." You felt tears in your eyes as you sat down, and Jake met your gaze. "I'm anxious that Bradley is going to talk about my cycle and want to know when I'm ovulating. It's bad enough that I know I'm ovulating right now, you know? I don't want him thinking about it, too. And, fuck, I'm sorry Jake."

"Hey, no," he said, reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. "I love that you want to talk to me about stuff. But just dump your hot sauce all over your lunch and take a deep breath. Let Bradley get home and prove to you that he wants to fix things as much as you do. Give him a chance, Angel."

But your nerves carried through lunch. And now you were scared that your husband wouldn't greet you the way he always did. You were afraid that you were just a fragile, broken thing in his eyes, and there would be some sort of undertone of rejection even though the two of you said you were on the same page over facetime. 

As you walked back to your office, your phone vibrated with a text, and you already knew it was him without even looking. Your heart started pounding, knowing what you needed but unsure if you were going to get it. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: I have phone reception! I can see the dock! I should be off this thing around four or five. Think you can skip out of work a little early and meet me? I missed you so much.

No turning back now. A smile actually broke out on your face. There would be no time to run home and change, but it didn't matter. You had missed him, too. 

I'll be there. Of course I'll be there.

When you mentioned to Bickel that you were going to leave two hours early, he told you to have a nice weekend. And when Cat saw you packing up your computer at 3:30, she walked over and gave you a little hug. 

"Don't be nervous."

You tried to act cool. "I'm not."

"I can tell you are. Just enjoy your weekend with your husband. I'll stay late if need be and finish the coding."

"Thanks," you muttered. You and she never explicitly talked about the fact that you were jealous that she had tiny Jeremiah in her life, but you knew she knew. And you were okay with that. 

As you jogged out to the Bronco in the parking garage, you found you were only thinking about one thing: how good it felt every time Bradley wrapped his strong arms around you and held you against his warm body. 

"Shit," you gasped, fumbling the key in the ignition. You needed that. That was it. "Fuck." You could barely start the engine, but when you finally did, you pulled quickly out of the parking space and headed the half mile or so around base toward the military docks. When you drove through the gates and parked again, you could see khaki uniforms pouring down the ramps and onto the dock.

"Oh no." You were out of the Bronco and running, scrambling for your phone. But as you got closer to the ramp, you spotted Bradley. He was so easy to pick out of a crowd. Tall and broad and impossibly handsome with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. His head was on a swivel, probably wondering if you were here yet. 

And then you froze up. Every feeling hit you all at once as he stepped down onto the dock, boots back on California soil for the first time in almost two months. He looked to his left and then to his right, searching for you, and you could tell he was about to reach for his phone as his hand dipped down toward his pocket. But then he saw you. And that was when you realized that he had the same look of apprehension on his face that you must have had on yours. 

It was so noisy, and there were hundreds of people on all sides of you, but you could see him mouth, "Baby Girl," before his lips formed into a smile that had your feet rushing forward. Bradley was actually shoving people out of his way now which had you laughing. And when you realized you weren't so nervous anymore, tears started to fill your eyes. 

"Baby Girl!" he called out, and a second later, you were in those strong, sure arms that you loved so much. 

"Bradley." But the sound of his name was muffled as he kissed you, holding you so close to him that only your toes touched the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You smiled against him as he shook his bag free and let it drop to the ground next to him, but he didn't break the kiss. 

Every voice around you and the warm sunshine melted into a dreamlike quality. You wanted to stay here in his arms where you finally felt comfortable. There was a lot to say, and you'd get to it eventually, but the feel of his big hands and his mustache were so familiar that you felt more confident again. 

When he finally broke the kiss, Bradley pressed his forehead to yours and kept one big hand at the back of your neck, stroking your skin softly as you shuddered in his arms. "I love you," he promised, voice full of desperation like he was begging you to listen. "I just needed to be with you."

You closed your eyes against your tears and whispered, "I love you, Roo." 

Then his rough fingers were moving slowly along the back of your neck, his other hand coming up to work at the clasp of your necklace. You smiled when you realized what he was doing. Bradley removed your necklace but kept his body pressed against yours and he carefully palmed your gold charms. 

"Been dying to put this back on since I took it off." He kissed your cheek and then slid his wedding band along the chain before carefully clasping your necklace in place again. Then he quickly removed the silicone ring and pocketed it before slipping his gold band into place. "It just didn't feel right. It's not the one we got married with."

And then his arms were wrapped around your waist, and you let your cheek come to rest on his chest. You didn't want to be the first one to say it, but you thought one of you should. About how much you wanted to fix things. About making things work. "Bradley."

But you shouldn't have been worried. He kissed the top of your head, his grip on you unrelenting as so many of the other officers and crew members around you were starting to clear out. "I promise you that you're everything I want. And I'll make sure you know it."

So you nodded and melted into his touch. And it was quite a while later before you moved, but you could hear Bradley's stomach growling which made you smile. "I have some Marry Me Rooster in our fridge that just needs to be reheated." 

He peppered your face with kisses until you were laughing. "Let's go home," he whispered. "Wanna see Tramp and snuggle you on my lap while we eat."

After Bradley had you safely buckled in the passenger seat, he started the engine, and you could tell he missed his Bronco too. He held your hand on the short drive home, and you filled him in on a few things. When he parked in the driveway and helped you out, you asked, "How was your deployment? I didn't even get to see Bob and Nat."

He kissed you softly as you unlocked the front door. "I'll tell you later. It's not as important as this. As being with you."

Your heart swelled as Tramp tried to jump up into Bradley's arms. "Missed you, too," Bradley told him, kneeling and scratching him behind his ears while the dog kicked his other hand. "Were you a good boy?"

"Of course he was. The best." You squeaked as Bradley scooped you up for a piggy back ride as he stood, and he carried you to the laundry room with Tramp jumping around behind you. "What are you doing?" you asked, kissing Bradley's ear as you held onto his shoulders.

"Just want to get out of my uniform before we eat." 

When he set you down and turned, you carefully unbuttoned his shirt and started working on his pins. His hands settled on your waist, stroking you through the fabric of your own khaki uniform shirt. And his eyes were soft. And he wasn't in a rush, except maybe to get dinner. And he wasn't asking about your cycle. And he didn't seem interested in doing anything at this moment except working on your pins and lining them up in the tray near the sink along with his. 

"I missed doing this," you whispered, and then his lips found yours again. And it was a few minutes before Bradley let go of you long enough for both of you to finish getting undressed and put your uniforms into the washing machine. 

"Let me put on some sweatpants, and I'll help you reheat dinner," he said, hoisting you up for another piggy back ride that had you laughing. 

"Sounds good, Roo."

He bent to pick up his duffle on the way to the bedroom, and you helped him empty and sort everything onto your bed. When you dipped your hand inside the bag, you pulled out some neatly folded undershirts and a beat up notebook. You flipped open to the first page while Bradley sat on the floor to play with Tramp. 

Baby Girl, when I think about you, I think about the rest of my life spread out in front of me. And it's not exactly like a map, because I don't know where we are going or where we will end up. But I feel safe when I'm with you. Even though so much is unknown.

You carefully closed the notebook and pressed your lips together, unsure if you were supposed to read that. "Roo?" you asked quietly, and Bradley looked up at you as you showed him the notebook. "What is this?"

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

He's home! Finally! And Slayer is hopefully completely screwed. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

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@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

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@little-wiseone

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@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

[mirkwoodshewolf]

I belong with my One; Fili x Dúnedain reader

*Author's note*

So this took me a few days to finally get finalized and write down so I hope @futuristicyouthvoid I hope you enjoy this fic. For this fic I've put that instead of Kili getting shot by the Morgul arrow, reader gets shot saving him and ends up getting sick.

Warnings: reader poisoned, near-death experience, some angst and some fluff.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@queen-paladin

___________________________________________________________

So much has happened in such little of time.  First Gandalf offers me a proposition for aiding a company of Dwarves, then we’re being pursued by orcs, then get imprisoned by the Elven king Thranduil.  Now we find ourselves at the mercy of the Men of Laketown.

Thankfully another friend of mine Bard was willing to let us stay the night at his house but of course the Dwarves had to screw it all up by going to the armory to steal the weapons and end up getting caught by the Master of the Lake’s guards.  But by some miracle, we were granted the supplies we needed to get us to Erebor to complete the quest before sunset.  Of course I knew it was because of the Master’s greediness that he agreed to help, he never was a good man.

“You do know we’re one short, where’s Bofur?” Bilbo asked.

“If he’s not here, we leave him behind.” Said Thorin.

“We’ll have to, if we’re to find the door before nightfall. We can’t risk no more delays.” Balin agreed grimly as everyone began piling into the boat.  But as I was just halfway over the plank, I felt a hand stop me.

“Not you.” I turned to see Thorin.

“What?”

“We must travel at speed, you’ll only slow us down.” He told me.

“I’m coming with you all to the Mountain. I promised Gandalf that I would.”

“(Y/n), you have been a big help to me and my kin. The first Ranger to truly stand for our cause. But lately you haven’t been up to par on your health. Stay here and rest, rejoin us when you’re healed.” Just because I’ve been feeling a bit sluggish since the river incident, doesn’t mean I’m helpless.

“Thorin—”

“I will say no more on the matter.” Without another word, Thorin went back onto the boat whilst I had no choice but to sit back down on the docks, feeling a chill suddenly come over me.

“I’ll stay with the lass, my duty lies with the wounded.” Oin said as he voluntarily got off the boat and came up to me.

“Uncle, (Y/n) has done more for this company than any other outsider could’ve done for us. You cannot repay her by leaving her behind.” Fili stepped up for me.

“Fili no.” I told him.

“I will carry her if I must!” Fili argued.

“Fili, one day you will be king and you will understand. I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of a Ranger. Even if she were the only one willing to help us.” As Oin began feeling my forehead for a temperature, I soon watched as Fili stormed off the boat but Thorin stopped him.  “Fili, don’t be a fool. Your place is with the company.”

“My place is with her!” he snapped back at his uncle before taking back his arm and came over to me.

“Why did you do that? I thought you always wanted to see Erebor, you told me so yourself.”

“I’ll have plenty of opportunities to see the kingdom in my lifetime, but your wellbeing is more important to me than all the gold in Erebor.” I felt my cheeks grow warm as I softly thanked him.

“And don’t think it’ll just be Fee that’s gonna help you get back on your feet.” We turned to see Kili had also left the boat.

“Kili, you didn’t have to stay behind too.” Fili said.

“Yeah I could’ve gone but it’s my decision too.” He came up to me and stood on my right side.  “You saved my life back in the Woodland realm, I’ll gladly do everything I can to help you now (Y/n).” I smiled and looked at the brothers.

“You guys truly are the best friends I’ve ever had. Thank you.” They both nodded and as the Laketown band played a victorious fanfare to wish our friends luck, a sudden dizziness overcame me. 

My vision was going in and out of focus and as the crowd cheered as the boat with our friends departed from the docks, I suddenly fell forward, the last thing I heard was Fili’s voice calling my name.

*3rd Person POV*

When (Y/n) had passed out on the dock, Fili cried out (Y/n)’s name as Oin came up and began searching over her body for any trace of an infected wound or trace of blood.  Knowing that she had saved Kili from that arrow back when they were trying to escape the orcs on the river, there must’ve been a wound he might’ve missed before they came across Bard.

“OH, did you miss the boat too?” they soon heard the missing Dwarf, Bofur’s voice say.  But the moment he saw (Y/n) passed out, his concern grew as he asked Kili.  “What happened to her?”

“We don’t know. She just—suddenly passed out.”

“Her fever’s spiking lads. We have to get her help right away!” Oin said.

“Kee, help me out here!” together the brothers lifted her up by her arms while Oin and Bofur got her legs and they walked back towards the Master’s manor to ask for help.  After pushing through the guards, Fili cried out. “Please wait! Please, we need your help. Our friend is sick!”

“Sick? Is it infectious?” the Master exclaimed fearfully as he covered his nose with his handkerchief and fearfully cowered behind Alfrid. “Get back! Alfrid, Alfrid don’t let them come any closer!”

“Please. We need medicine.” Oin pleaded.  Alfrid walked closer as he sneered at them.

“Do I look like an apothecary? Haven’t we given you enough? The Master’s a busy man, he hasn’t got time to worry about sick Rangers! Let alone this one right ‘ere. All she’s ever done for this town is ruin the Master’s good name and turn the people against him.”

“She’s helped these people in their hour of need! Are you willing to let her die because of your own selfish needs?!” Kili demanded.

“None of our concern. She’s not a paying citizen here, therefore she’s not our problem. Now off you pop! Less we use more drastic measures.” With that Alfrid and the Master shut the doors and the guards ordered them away.

After being rejected by the Master, they tried going to other people to see if they could help but all of them were either too scared to go against the Master’s wishes, or didn’t have enough supplies to help aid her as well as their own sick family members.

With no other options left, the Dwarves raced back to Bard’s home.  Knowing of their friendship, they’d hope that at least he could help them.  Bofur knocked on the door frantically and as soon as Bard saw them, he sneered.

“No, I’m done with Dwarves. Go away!” he went to shut the door but Bofur stopped him pleading.

“No, no please! Please! No one will help us. (Y/n) is sick.” Bard opened the door further to see his good friend now sickly pale, strands of her hair stuck to her face from the profuse sweating she was doing, and her breathing was now choked gasps.  “She’s very, very sick.” Even with the grievance he had with the Dwarves for risking the safety of not only his children but the entire town of Dragon fire, he didn’t have the heart to turn his dear friend away.

“Bring her in.” Bard stepped aside and the four dwarves quickly piled in while Bard quickly looked around before shutting the door.  “Put her over there. I’ll see what I have.” Bard went to the back of the house as the Dwarves set her down on the nearby couch.  Fili took her hand between his and squeezed it.

“Hang on (Y/n), we’re all here to help you. Just…..don’t go where I cannot follow.” He whispered to her stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.  Kili watched his older brother and knowing of his feelings towards the Ranger, he couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing that it was because of his carelessness that the woman his brother loved got hurt to save him.

As the night overcame the lake, (Y/n)’s health was gradually becoming worse.  Oin did managed to find a small graze just underneath her elbow.  A graze that came from an orc arrow tipped with poison.  Already the wound (even for as small as it was) had already started to become infected and the poison was spreading fast.

(Y/n) was tossing and turning, panting as her body was glistening with sweat.

“Nothing’s working! Can you not do something!?” demanded Fili who was growing more frantic by the second seeing the woman he came to love be in such agony.

“I need herbs! Something to bring down her fever.” Bard soon came in with some more supplies and began listing them off.

“I have nightshade, feverfew…..”

“No, no there no use to me. Do you have any Kingsfoil?” said Oin but Bard told him.

“No. It’s a weed we feed it to the pigs.”

“Pigs? Weed. Right. Don’t move.” Bofur said before leaving the house.  As Kili was continuing to dab a damp, cool cloth across (Y/n)’s face and neck to ease her of her sweating, a rumble was soon heard coming from the mountain.

“Da?” asked one of Bard’s daughters Sigrid.

“It’s coming from the mountain.” Answered Bard’s son, Bain.  Bard had feared the worst, the dwarves had awoken Smaug the Terrible and soon the prophecy would come to pass, the Lake will shine and burn.

“You should leave us.” Fili said as he walked up to Bard. “Take your children, get out of here.”

“And go where? There’s nowhere to go.” Bard told him in defeat.  Little Tilda stepped in front of her siblings and asked her father fearfully.

“Are we going to die Da?” Bard looked at his youngest child and assured her.

“No darling.”

“The dragon, it’s going to kill us.” Bard then turned towards a beam just above the kitchen and gripped a thin but firm piece of what appeared to be black iron.  He pulled it down from the beam to reveal that it was a Black arrow, the very same black arrow that can only be used to kill the dragon.

“Not if I kill it first.” Bard said determinedly.  He then asked his son to come with him while the girls stayed behind with the Dwarves to help take care of their Aunt.

Time passed and (Y/n)’s fever was getting even worse.  Her breathing was sharp and panicked and she was now starting to writhe in agony.

“Durin’s beard where is Balin with that Kingsfoil!?” Fili demanded.

“I have the right mind to go out and look for him myself!” Kili snapped.

“You can’t leave! With the guards on patrol, they’ll arrest you too and aunt (Y/n) will never get better!” Bain said.  “No one is leaving this house understood!?” hearing the young man take a stand against the Dwarves made them both feel shock and admiration.

“Very well laddie. But I don’t know how long (Y/n) has got left, she’s growing weaker by the second.” Oin said to Bain.

“Tilda, Sigrid, come with me to get more rags and water for aunt Hela.” The siblings soon left while Fili gripped (Y/n)’s hand tighter.

“Fi…….li.” she choked out.

“I’m right beside you (Y/n).” he whispered to her.  Slowly opening her eyes she croaked out.

“Fili…..if anything hap-happens to me—”

“Don’t talk like that (Y/n). We’re going to heal you, Bofur’s probably found the Kingsfoil by now, he’s just probably ducking the guards and taking longer. Please don’t give in now.” He squeezed her hand between his.  “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Suddenly a scream was heard and next thing everyone knew orcs began dropping down from the rooftop or coming in through the front door.  The dwarves grabbed whatever they could to fight off the orcs but there were too many of them, and with the tightly constricted area the house provided, there was hardly any fighting room.

Kili got the children to duck under the table and fought off any orc that tried to come close to them, while Oin and Fili worked together to fend off any orc that came near (Y/n).  When they thought they were done for, help came from both Legolas and Tauriel who had been tracking down the orcs since they left Mirkwood.

As Fili managed to block an orc’s attack with a kitchen knife, (Y/n) had managed to crawl out of the couch and use a fire-poker to stab the orc through its spine.  But she soon let out a cry of agony as she collapsed to the ground, the poison fully starting to overcome her.  Eventually, all the orcs were either killed off or had begun to retreat from the house.

“You killed them all.” Bain said as he and his sisters got out from under the table after all went quiet in the house.

“There are others, Tauriel.” Legolas ordered but Tauriel was hesitant.  As Oin came down beside (Y/n) and felt around her neck to feel her pulse was slowing down, Fili and Kili came down beside her as Oin said fearfully.

“We’re losing her!”

“Tauriel.” Legolas said to her.  She turned back to her prince and said.

“The Ranger has done no harm to us, is there nothing we can do to help her?”

“She is beyond help. I’m sorry, there’s nothing that can be done for her.” Footsteps could soon be heard racing up the stairs and as the two elves prepared for another battle with orcs, they stopped to see that it was Bofur carrying some Athelas in his hand.

“Athelas,” Tauriel exhaled as she took it from him and admired it. “Athelas.”

“What are you doing?” Bofur asked nervously.  Tauriel looked into the room before looking back at him and said.

“I’m going to save her.” Legolas’ eyes briefly narrowed.

“Tauriel…..”

“You may go if you wish Legolas, but I cannot leave the she-ranger to perish in such agony. Not whilst she still clings to life and that I now have her only salvation.” The young prince took a deep breath then exhaled.

“What would you have me do?” the two elves raced back inside and Tauriel ordered.

“I need water fast. Get her on a solid, stable surface. Lay her flat on her back.” Every in the room reacted quickly.  Tilda gave Tauriel the bowl of water for her to mix the Athelas together, whilst Legolas and the Dwarves worked together to get (Y/n) on the table.

She was screaming and writhing in pure agony, her mouth starting to grow black with the poison.

“Where is the wound?” Legolas asked.

“Underneath her left elbow.” Oin said.  Legolas took hold of her left wrist and raised her arm above.  But when she tried to struggle, he was forced to also grab her forearm to pin it down and there he saw it.  The black graze and he could see the infection had fully spread and blackened her entire elbow.

“Hold her down.” Tauriel said.  Kili and Bofur held down her right leg while Bard’s children held down her left.  Fili held (Y/n) by the shoulders and Oin helped Tauriel brew the medicine.  Once it was brewed, Tauriel cut through the sleeve of (Y/n)’s shirt to get a better access to the wound.

The female ranger appearing like a rapid animal, screaming, grunting and thrashing about trying to free herself.  Tauriel took some of the Athelas and began rubbing it onto her hands as she chanted.

“Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth.” She then placed her hands over the ranger’s wound and (Y/n) let out an agonizing scream.  Fili softly shushed her stroking through her hair and whispering in her ear all the while Tauriel kept chanting the spell.

Bit by bit, (Y/n)’s animalistic behavior quietened and then she went still.  Her breathing now soft and not as frantic as it had been.  Fili looked down at her worriedly and Kili asked.

“Will she be alright?”

“Athelas has powerful healing properties. With time and rest, she’ll regain her full strength. A few more minutes and she would’ve been beyond even with the aid of the Athelas.” Responded Tauriel.  The dwarves and Bard’s children breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” Fili said to Tauriel.  She gave him a soft but tight smile as well as a soft nod.  Then both she and Legolas left to deal with the orcs.

After her healing, Fili wrapped up (Y/n)’s wound with some bandages and kept vigil at her side.  Never before had he felt so scared than he had felt at that moment.  Fearing that the woman he had come to become fond of—nay love throughout this quest, he wouldn’t have known what to do had she been lost to him.

“She’ll be alright Fili. She’s strong, she’ll be back on her feet in no time.” His brother tried to assure him.

“I know. But seeing her go through all that pain, all that suffering, and who knows if she even knew she had been hit.”

“Even if she did, she’s got the stubbornness of a Dwarrowdam. Perfect woman for a guy like you.” Fili turned to his brother.  “You may try to have hide it from the others but you can’t hide anything from me Fee. I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at her since Rivendell. You care for her more than just as a friend.” Fili sighed and looked down to her.

“I don’t even know how it happened. But after all that we’ve been through, seeing her in a—domestic way. The way she was with her younger cousin, the way the sunlight seemed to reflect off her hair, and the way her eyes shone like jewels in the dark. Kee……I feel as if she is my One.”

“And you should follow through that brother.”

“But would it work? A dwarf and a human? It’s never been done before?”

“Is that what’s really troubling you? Or is it that you fear she doesn’t feel the same way?” Fili remained quiet.

“This quest has shown me that life is too fragile. And at any moment, any one of us can be taken away by any means. I want to tell her my true feelings but—not now. Not while our lives are still in danger. Perhaps when we reach the mountain, I’ll work up the courage to tell her but I—”

“I understand brother. The turmoil that must’ve been stirring in your heart seeing her on death’s doorstep, if you had confessed your love for her beforehand and it be too late to save her……I can’t imagine the pain that would’ve been.”

“She’s too precious to me.” Fili said as he stroked her cheek with the back of his finger.  “I feel like if she had died tonight, my heart would’ve died with her. My body may have continued to live on but my heart would never be full again.”

“Take comfort now that she’s alive and that she’s recovering. No more darkened thoughts need cloud your mind anymore.” Kili said as he placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder, gently shaking it.  Fili turned to his little brother and nodded giving him a soft smile.

“Thank you Kili. I know I’m supposed to be the older brother here but, I’m glad that you were here to be the one to ease my mind.”

“I’m always here for you brother, and I always will be. Together forever right?” he extended his other hand out.

“Together forever little brother.” Fili clasped his other hand with Fili’s as they pressed their foreheads together, drawing in each other’s strength.

*My POV*

 All I remembered was darkness, as well as a voice reaching out for me.  Then a bright light and soon silence.  I don’t remember much after that but I do remember hearing Fili’s voice along with Kili’s.

“This quest has shown me that life is too fragile. And at any moment, any one of us can be taken away by any means. I want to tell her my true feelings but—not now. Not while our lives are still in danger. Perhaps when we reach the mountain, I’ll work up the courage to tell her but I—”

“I understand brother. The turmoil that must’ve been stirring in your heart seeing her on death’s doorstep, if you had confessed your love for her beforehand and it be too late to save her……I can’t imagine the pain that would’ve been.”

“She’s too precious to me.” I felt something graze my cheek with the most gentlest touch.  “I feel like if she had died tonight, my heart would’ve died with her. My body may have continued to live on but my heart would never be full again.”

So did Fili actually feel the same as I have come to feel for him? Oh Fili, I-I love you too. And I do hope that one day I can say that aloud, but for now I was just too weak to even open my eyes.  I soon passed out once again but it wasn’t until the sound of giant wings flying towards us had me opening my eyes.

Smaug was coming for us. And he was out for blood.

[jalicecookie]

Pancake Surprise - BigBang

You try to make a Pancake Surprise for your Appa and the other Boys from BigBang! Long Story short - the Boys are surprised!

It was quiet in the house that the K-Pop idols of the boy band BigBang shared before their upcoming tour, strengthening their sense of community and preparing the chaotic yet energetic group for several weeks of living together 24/7.

The Boys were excited to be together again for an extended period, after the release of their latest album and to delight fans with their music, amazing upcoming concerts, and the excitement that comes with a BigBang tour. But such an upcoming tour also involves a lot of rehearsals, even more organization, and overtime planning.

That's why it was still so quiet on this Easter morning. You knew it was Easter! Last night your babysitter read you a picture book story about the Easter Bunny after you said goodnight to your Appa over video call (he and the other boys were in the studio late recording some stuff for the tour and you had a very long video call and gave your Appa and your uncles lots of goodnight kisses).

You were a little sad that your family wouldn't be back at the house until long after you had fallen asleep…but at least Easter Sunday would be yours! And in last night's story, the Easter Bunny had baked pancakes and shared them with the Easter Bunny family.

You climb out of your bed (the bars had recently been removed because G-Dragon wanted to take the step of converting your baby crib into a toddler bed…you thought it was a great game to be able to climb out of bed like a big girl now! Of course, you don't yet understand the principle behind the upcoming transformation) - but one thing you do understand is that when Appa and your uncles come home long after your bedtime, they're always tired and usually sleep in. And the boys will definitely be happy if you try to make pancakes like the busy Easter Bunny…it sounded great in the bedtime story…and so you grab the little book with the colorful pictures and toddle out of the nursery.

You listen to the ajar door to your Appa's bedroom, and everything is quiet there. You're walking down the hall with the book in your hands, and someone forgot to close the baby gate, so you can walk upstairs, feeling so proud of yourself as you walk down the stairs all by yourself and then head toward the kitchen.

Soft rays of sunlight hit the window, and you open the book, flipping to the page where the Easter Bunny is putting the ingredients together…how do you know you should put all those things in one bowl? Oh no, the toddler mind firmly believes that it's perfect to first spread a little flour on the floor, then add a little sugar and eggs to the pile of flour and diligently knead it with your little hands?

That's exactly what you do, and in your actions, you don't hear G-Dragon running down the stairs in a panic, followed by T.O.P, Daesung, and Taeyong—only to see you sitting in the flour-egg-sugar mess—completely in your own world, talking to yourself and giggling, occasionally glancing at the open picture book. These will be the best pancakes ever!

"Baby, what are you doing?" - G-Dragon wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry… because of the chaos of opened and partly knocked over flour and sugar packets, scattered ingredients, and partly broken eggshells, and in the middle of it all, you - a happy toddler who is now giving her Appa a happy smile.

"Appa! Easter! Pancake! Easter Bunny!" you say proudly and clap your hands once - thus spreading not only more ingredients on your pajamas but also further on the floor.

"We'll see…" Taeyong said, laughing.

"How's the pancake making going, little one?" Daesung asked amusedly.

"Pancakes good! Me good helper!" you replied proudly.

"I think we need two baby gates…or we'll put you on a toddler harness that…stop, baby, no - NOO…"

But too late, before anyone could stop you, you dig one hand into the egg-flour-sugar mixture and, of course, want to try it. Your hand goes into your mouth, and it took four seconds before you let out a long, unhappy YUCKY.

"Pancakes no num num!" you complained.

"How mean of the pancakes, huh? And you tried so hard," T.O.P. spoke empathetically, and you nodded honestly.

"Hey, is that one of the toy unicorns in batter?" Daesung wonders, and you nod again.

"I don't think you can turn unicorns into pancake batter," Taeyong laughed.

"What's the unicorn for, huh? Did it want to help you bake pancakes?" T.O.P. was bothered by the possibility of flour getting on his pajamas. He took you in his arms, empathetically, and, like the other two boys, didn't seem amused enough to giggle the whole time.

"Unicorn like Night Night Story…" you say, nodding once at the book on the floor. That's exactly what G-Dragon is reaching for.

"The Easter Bunny and the Unicorn: A Pancake Surprise", - G-Dragon said out loud.

Than your Father smiled softly and gave you a soft kiss on the top of your hair and looked at the mess you made.

"Okay, you super Easter bunny helper! First, we'll clean you up from that not-so-lovable pancake batter, then we'll clean up together, and then…let's go and order breakfast from Ueber Eats," said G-Dragon, a mixture of slight overwhelm and fatherly affection.

"Appa? Pancake breakfast?"

"If you promise Appa and your uncles never to make pancakes on your own again, then after we've cleaned up and cleared up, we'll take a look in the garden. The babysitter said before we left last night, there was a rabbit-like creature wandering around…with a basket," promised G-Dragon.

"YES, YES! Garden now?"

"How about we clean you up first? You could pass for a ghost," T.O.P teased, and you imitated a few ghost-boo-sounds and giggled.

While T.O.P disappears towards the bathroom with you in his arms, G-Dragon, Taeyong and Daesung join forces to clean up the mess on the kitchen floor.

"Should we tell your daughter that we almost set a pot on fire during a shoot at the beginning of our Big Bang days?"

"Don't you dare…she'll be busy hunting for Easter eggs in the garden later. No stories of almost melting stove pots…"

A unanimous laugh echoed through the kitchen as the idols reminisced about their early days.

They had experienced many surprising things during the beginning and the course of their careers.

But this Easter bunny pancake surprise would stay with all four of them for a long time.

Because G-Dragon, T.O.P, Daesung & Taeyong were definitely surprised!

THE END

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Silent Night, Joyful Hearts - Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: This is my second of three entries for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge to celebrate the holidays with our favourite aviators.

pairing:  Jake Seresin x reader

warnings/content: Jake as a lovesick little puppy, mentions of church/Christianity.

word count: 1.9k

It had been months since Jake had gone back home to Austin, Texas. He couldn’t remember a date other than “too long.” When the chance to go home for a three week leave for the holidays arose, Jake practically jumped on it. As cocksure and seemingly uncaring as he made himself out to be, at the end of the day, Jake was becoming homesick, ready for a long overdue trip to his hometown.

“Uncle Jake! Uncle Jake!” 

A little voice squealed from the living room around the corner, a blonde haired, green eyed little boy - the spitting image of Jake - came speeding into the hallway, wrapping his tiny arms around his uncle’s leg in an effort to hug him. Jake reached down and tousled the boy’s hair, beaming down at his little nephew as he scooped him up for a hug.

“Well if it ain’t my favourite nephew! Miss me?” Jake chuckled as he gave his nephew a tight squeeze.

“Sure did!” The boy grinned, in an accent that almost perfectly matched Jake’s. 

“Easton, give your poor Uncle Jake a minute’s breathing space, he just got in the door!” Jake’s sister, Stephanie shook her head as she laughed, her hand on her hip as she watched her son fuss over his uncle. 

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it, Steph, I missed the lil’ guy, I don’t mind being showered with a warm welcome. Besides, he’s gotta say hi to me now before his big moment on stage tonight!” Jake grinned, ruffling Easton’s hair once again.

“I’m gonna play one of the smart guys at Jesus’ birthday party, Uncle Jake!” Easton said proudly as he puffed out his chest.

“You’re gonna be a what, bud?” Jake bit his lip as he held back a laugh at the six-year-old’s misinterpretation of a nativity play.

“Well, Mommy said wise means smart, so isn’t that what a wiseman is?” Easton furrowed his brow as he thought it over.

“I guess in a way, it does, pal, but you know, I fell asleep during Sunday school a lot, I wouldn’t listen to me.”

Jake set Easton down on the ground, the boy running off to go get himself changed into his outfit for his performance tonight. Jake laughed as he smiled and gave his sister a hug. Stephanie pulled away from his embrace after a moment and laughed at him, shaking her head. 

“You know, Mama’s been talking to that girl you used to like back in elementary school again. She volunteered to help for the nativity play, she’s helping coordinate it,” Stephanie smirks and nods her head, “You know…the one you used to run around naked in the backyard with when you were 4, her mama and Ma are good friends…what was her name again?”

Jake froze as a wave of nostalgia washed over him, the memories of you and him playing together as kids came flooding back, enveloping him as he was transported back to a time where you and he were the best of friends, completely inseparable as kindergarteners, best friends who couldn’t be without one another for more than a moment. That was, until, you had moved to the other side of the city when the two of you were 8 years old. By the time high school had come around, you were reunited again, but something was different - the best friend he knew as a young child was gone, the two of you having taken different paths in your preteen years, different interests now shoehorning their way between you, making it harder for either of you to ever reconcile the friendship you once had. 

Jake was an all-star athlete in school, captain of the lacrosse team, star quarterback for the football team, and first-baseman for the baseball team. He was in a world you weren’t a part of when it came to high school, and you two struggled to find your way back to one another. He’d always had feelings for you, for as long as he could remember. After you’d both grown so distantly far apart by the time you’d reached high school, he never had the courage to ever tell you. The mere thought of you was enough to get his heart racing all over again, just like it did in high school whenever he saw you walking down the halls. 

Jake shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and shook his head, trying to appear indifferent to the mention of you.

“I dunno, can’t remember. I haven’t seen her in like, 16 years, Steph.”

“Hmm…,” Stephanie smirked as she raised her eyebrow at him, “You best go get showered and changed. Gotta leave here in about 45 minutes.” 

Jake emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later,  freshly showered, shaved and dressed in a creamy beige coloured sweater and his favourite dark washed denim jeans, cognac brown cowboy boots adorning his feet to complete the look. His golden blonde military-approved haircut was gelled up in the front, the way he’d worn it every day for the last 20 years or so - he swore up and down that if he didn’t use the hair gel, it’d be an unruly mess, though everyone around him knew he was just a creature of habit whose life motto was “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”  

The drive to the church was a quiet one, little Easton was practically buzzing with excitement in the back seat beside Jake, but insisted on not speaking so he could save his voice for the lines he had in the play. Jake couldn’t help but laugh at the child’s insistence on playing the part so professionally, but Stephanie had simply nodded and smiled, giving Jake a look that explained this was just how Easton was, a perfectionist like his uncle. 

The church auditorium was full of parents and families waiting to see their children on stage for the next hour, a handful of lines of dialogue shared between each child in order to make it fair for everyone. Phones were held out with cameras pointed at the stage, each parent excitedly watching for their child’s big moment. Jake took his seat beside his sister and her husband, his parents seated to his left. They all smiled proudly as they watched the stage, waiting for Easton’s big stage debut. 

Jake had noticed you standing by the front of the stage, a few rows of seats ahead of him. You were discreetly and quietly helping the children when they got stuck with remembering their positions on stage or the lines they were supposed to say. You looked just as he’d remembered you - in fact, he’d argue that you’d only grown more beautiful over the last 16 years. He felt his heart racing again, a soft, rosy pink hue filling his cheeks as he smiled in your direction. He could hear his mother lean over and whisper something to his father, who dissmissively rolled his eyes at his wife, trying to stifle a laugh. Stephanie smirked to herself, and her husband, who was none the wiser about your lifelong crush, sat confused, trying to work out what he was missing. 

���Jake,” Stephanie whispered to her brother, nodding her head slowly as her eyes stayed on the stage, watching for Easton, “I’d say somethin’ to her if I were you. Can’t go back to California and not say a word to the poor girl about how you feel. Maybe she feels the same way and y’all can have something together before you go back in a couple’a weeks?” 

Jake shook his head slightly, a warm smile on his face. His green eyes were betraying him as he spoke, showing how he felt as his words contradicted him.

“I don’t still have feelin’s for her, Steph. It was just a crush in high school. I bet she’s even forgotten me.”

“She hasn’t,” Jake’s mom piped up as she whispered, leaning over Jake’s father to speak.

“What?” 

“She hasn’t forgotten you, Jake,” His mother simply repeated before returning her attention to the stage.

Jake spent the next 20 minutes mulling over this information from his mother, and the words of encouragement from his sister. While there was always the very likely possibility that the two women were meddling and trying to set him up on a date with someone, anyone, who they thought he might have a shred of happiness with, there was also the possibility they could be right - maybe you really had been harboring the same feelings for him all these years too. 

After the play had ended and the auditorium had cleared out, Jake approached you, waiting politely for you to finish your conversation with another parishioner, one congratulating you on the play being a success. Jake smiled warmly, his million-dollar grin on full display, a twinkle in his pale green eyes as he spoke. 

“Hi, I’m not sure if you remember me or not?” He began.

“Jake, right? Jake Seresin? I suppose you’re a Lieutenant now, your mama told me about it, congratulations!” She smiled warmly, nodding her head, “I could never forget you, we used to be good friends back when we were just lil’ kids.”

Jake nodded his head, unable to control the wide, beaming grin on his face as she spoke, revealing that his mother was at least right about one thing, you’d never forgotten him. 

“That’s me! My mama’s pretty bad for bragging about me, sorry ‘bout that,” Jake laughed as he shook his head, running a hand to the back of his neck, his finger tips running through the ends of his short hair in the back, “Listen, I, uh,” Jake stuttered for a moment before shaking his head with a laugh. 

“I’d like to take you for a drink or something, we could catch up? For old times sake, I mean, if we both remember being good friends when we were little but haven’t spoken in 16 years, then we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”

Jake grinned as you titled your head, an eyebrow cocked upward in a challenging manner as he waited for your response to his proposal. 

“I’d like that, actually,” you responded, nodding her head, “I’m free tomorrow, if you’d like?”

Jake nodded his head, laughing softly as he smiled, unable once again to fight the urge to feel hopeful and hopelessly in love as your unrequited crush from 16 years ago accepted your text. Jake had no idea what he was doing at this point - he wasn’t a dater, he was generally unable to keep a relationship going longer than a couple of months, usually out of fear of what would happen while he was deployed. Would they cheat? Would he’d make it home ok? What would they do if Jake didn’t come home exactly the way he’d left it - not having a relationship was just easier.

However, in this moment, hearing you agree to have a drink with him tomorrow night, Jake was staring to wonder if maybe his bachelor streak was coming to an end. And he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that it all unfolded because of his nephew’s role in his childhood church’s nativity play. 

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 11

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, arguing, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to babies, swearing, references to military deployment, blood, medical inaccuracy, military inaccuracy

Jake’s Apartment, 11 Years Ago

“Don’t go,” Buttercup begged, standing in the doorway of the bedroom. “I thought you weren’t supposed to get deployed again for like a year.”

Jake shrugged as he packed his bag. “Something came up, and they need the best of the best. So, they’re sendin’ me, Javy, Rooster, Bob and Phoenix.”

Buttercup cupped her small bump, her ring finger glinting with the wedding ring he had put there only two weeks previous. The wedding had been a surprise, a shotgun wedding in the typical sense of the word, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The love of his life was pregnant, with twins, and was now Mrs. Seresin. Everything was coming up roses for Jake Seresin, and he was living for it. But the newly minted Mrs. Seresin…

“When will you be back?” she asked, her hand stroking her belly nervously.

Jake huffed a laugh. “That’s above my paygrade, sweetness.”

“I’m serious, Jake,” she swallowed. “Will you be back before the babies come?”

Jake paused. She was five months pregnant with twins, and everyone kept telling him that twins always came early. Would he be back in four months? It was impossible to say.

He turned towards her, smiling as softly as he could as he took her into his arms. “You’ll have Penny. And Mav and Payback and Fanboy and everyone else. It’ll be okay.”

She shoved out of his arms and stalked over to the bedroom window. “I don’t want everyone else. I want you. My husband. The father of my children. That’s who I want with me as I get all huge and can’t shave my legs and when I have to get poked and prodded at my appointments. Not a bunch of strangers. I want you.”

“I want you too,” he waggled his eyebrows at her, but didn’t get the giggling response he hoped for.

“I came here to visit my brother, but I stayed for you,” she murmured. “And now you’re both leaving and I’m going to be stuck here, useless.”

“Not useless,” he soothed, trying again to hold her. “You’re growing our babies. And if you ever feel like you need more, you could always go help Penny with the bar. But you don’t have to worry about anything, okay? I’m sending every paycheck home to you. The apartment is paid off completely, and the utilities come out of my bank account automatically. It’ll be okay.”

Buttercup swiped at her eyes and sidestepped him. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me, babe. Because I’m leaving in less than 36 hours and I’d like to know that my pregnant wife will be waiting for me when I get back,” he huffed.

“Of course I’ll be here!” she snapped. “I would never do that to you. But you’re fine with leaving me.”

Jake sighed and slowly walked over to her, hesitating only momentarily before placing his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m not fine with leaving you,” he whispered. “I feel like a fox caught in a trap, ready and willing to gnaw my own foot off if it meant the Navy wouldn’t own my ass anymore. But I can’t.” He let his hands glide down her body to rest on her small bump. “I don’t want to miss a second of this but I know I will. What I won’t miss is the birth. I swear to God. I’ll make sure I come home before they even think of coming out of their mama.” He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. “I’ll talk to Mav. He still has some sway over Cyclone. He can make sure I’m home, and that I don’t get deployed once they arrive. Not for a while, at least.”

He felt Buttercup shudder against him and was thankful that, this time, she allowed him to pull her into his arms. “And you’ll be safe? You’ll come home?”

Jake sighed and did the one thing he’d always sworn to himself that he would never do. “I promise, baby. I swear to God that I’m comin’ home to you.”

Cabana Bar, Hotel Zaza, Now

Jake held them for what felt like hours, until one of the girls started to squirm and try to pull away from the embrace.

“Dad…you’re soaking wet.”

Jake chuckled a little as he pulled away, stretching to his full height. “Sorry. I just missed you both so much.” He nodded his thanks to a helpful staff member, who handed him a fluffy white towel. “How…how are you here?” He blinked down at them. “You said something about a switch?”

The girls shuffled their feet nervously, but it was Buttercup who stepped forward. “You’re bleeding,” she murmured, gesturing to his soaking white shirt. Jake glanced down, noting the tear in his shirt and the red that was now staining it. Buttercup bit her lip, stepping closer. “What happened?”

Jake looked over at the bartender, who was shooting daggers at the lot of them, surrounded by shattered glass. “He stepped into my path and the deck was too slippery for me to course correct in time, so I bumped into him. I guess I took a few glasses to the chest as they shattered.”

Buttercup clocked the glares of the bartender too because she said, “Let’s go get you cleaned up. Then our daughters can explain themselves to you.”

Jake nodded, just as a shrill voice sounded behind him. “Oh my goodness, there’s two of them?”

Jake turned, finding Savannah clutching her chest, an older man and woman flanking her. “Savannah, meet my daughters. Abby and Charlie. And this…” Jake glanced at Buttercup with a look that was heavy with guilt. “This is my ex-wife. Their mother.”

Savannah gasped and leaned heavily against her father. “It’s alright, pookie,” the older southern gentleman soothed, his elegant wife fetching a fan from her clutch and waving it over her daughter’s wan face. “Let’s get you some air and some sweet tea to get you feeling better.” He gathered Savannah into his arms and gave them a reproachful look before striding off, his wife teetering behind him in her heels.

Jake couldn’t help the groan that escaped him. “Great…”

One of the girls bit their lip. “Sorry, dad.”

Jake shook off the weight of Colonel Beaumont’s glare and smiled down at her. “It’s alright. I’ll deal with it later.” He looked up and met Buttercup’s bright gaze. “You sure it’s alright if you patch me up?”

She rolled her eyes and headed towards the door. “I wouldn’t have offered if I minded, Hangman.”

Jake grinned and followed behind her, each of his strong hands resting on the shoulders of his daughters.

As Buttercup called down to the concierge to ask for a first aid kit, Jake settled onto her bed (and refused to think any further on that subject) while the girls stood in front of him and quickly explained everything.

The camp, Penny’s meddling, switching places, Rooster finding out, Bob finding out, their phone call to each other, their plan to corner them both here and make them talk to each other.

By the time they ran out of words, there was a knock on the door and Buttercup moved towards it, greeting the staff member who handed her the large white first aid kit. All the while, Jake gaped at his daughters.

“Well, hell…” he finally found it in himself to murmur. “That was some sneaky crap you two pulled.”

“Language,” Buttercup murmured softly, a small smile breaking out on Jake’s face.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he nodded as she laid out the first aid kit on the bed next to him. “I’m just saying, why didn’t either of you pony up and talk to us?”

“We were going to,” one of them started, a slight lilting accent to her voice, and Jake knew that was his Abby. They really were so identical (and Jake wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had no clue what his daughter had been wearing before she left the house that day or if she had changed when they got to the hotel), so he was having a hard time telling them apart when they weren’t speaking. “But we got scared.”

“You were both so sad whenever we brought up our missing parent, and we didn’t want to make you sad,” said Charlie, her young voice twanging.

“But when we met—”

“We really wanted to meet our other parent—”

“And we decided to ask forgiveness instead of permission.”

Jake shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know how you two pulled it off, but I’m impressed. Don’t ever do something like that again, but I’m impressed.”

Both girls blushed and nodded, both looking so much like him that he had to give his head a shake. They were incredible. They were his. And they were here. All three of them were.

As that thought raced across his mind like an off-leash dog, he glanced up at Buttercup, still standing before him, now with a fluffy white robe wrapped around her overtop of her soaked clothes.

“Why don’t you two go find your aunt and uncles?” he suggested, not taking his eyes off his ex.

Glancing between them, the two girls nodded and headed for the door, calling their goodbyes over their shoulders.

“Don’t forget your room keys,” Buttercup called after them, her eyes not leaving his either.

Once they heard the door click shut, both adults sighed.

“I…I guess you should take your shirt off,” Buttercup mumbled, staring at the spot on his white shirt that was slowly growing redder.

“Didn’t realize you were so eager to get me out of my clothes, Buttercup,” Jake quipped with a smirk, his hands going for the tiny pearlescent buttons. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gritted between her teeth, eyes casting downward toward the first aid kit.

“Why not?” he challenged, his hands stilling.

“Because I’m not…”

“Not what?”

She met his gaze again and he was taken aback by the fire blazing in them. “Because I’m not yours anymore.”

His whole body stilled. It was true, what she had said. She wasn’t his. Not anymore. They had a decade of memories separating them now. Separate lives. Lives that only included a daughter that shared half his DNA and half hers. He’d hated the custody arrangement, they both had, but it was the only thing that made sense with their schedules and Buttercup’s health. And now, there she was. Eyes burning at him in a way that he hadn’t seen since before the birth of their daughters. At least one thing had gone right in their divorce. His Buttercup was back and more fierce than ever.

“I know that,” he said quietly. “But you still have your tattoo, don’t you?” His eyes traced the stem of buttercup blossoms that peeked out from under her white robe. “Bob and Natasha still call you Buttercup?” She nodded. “Then I don’t see why I can’t.”

“B-because…because you’re you,” her chest heaved slightly, as though she was desperate for air. Jake stood and opened the hotel window slightly, allowing the fresh breeze to rustle the leaves of the fake fern in the corner. She blinked, staring at him as her breathing almost immediately came easier to her. “I don’t think your fiancée would like it if you were still calling your ex-wife by a pet name,” she mused, striding forward to grab the disinfectant from the kit.

“Savannah can deal with it,” he muttered, already knowing he was in for one hell of an argument when he met up with his fiancée and future in-laws later.

“You sure she’s mature enough for that?” Buttercup muttered under her breath, gesturing for him to continue unbuttoning his shirt.

He chuckled shortly, peeling his wet shirt off his tan skin. “Jealous?”

“Of you being engaged? No. Of how little time she has to spend scrolling to find her birth year? Maybe a little.”

Jake chuckled again, the sound warm and soothing. “I am sometimes too, I think. She doesn’t have to search long, meanwhile I feel like I’m spinning the wheel on the Price is Right or some shit.”

Buttercup giggled in spite of herself. “At least you finally found someone at your maturity level.” She leaned in and pressed a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic to the thin line that bisected his pec.

“Low blow, sweetheart,” he hissed.

Buttercup muttered a half-hearted apology as she found another cut, not bleeding but crusted over with dried blood and a small piece of glass.

“What do you two even talk about?” she pondered as she grabbed the tweezers, steadying herself against his abs, still hard and defined after all those years.

Jake sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable discomfort of having the nearly superficial wound poked and prodded, but it never came. As always, his Buttercup’s hands were soft and gentle with him.

“You really want to have this conversation?” he asked softly.

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. “Would you rather we fight?”

“Why do those have to be our only options?”

Her steady hands grabbed the bandages and she carefully started to cover up the two wounds on his chest.

“Fighting was basically our only option there for a while,” she murmured, her body so close to his that he could practically feel her cool breath against his skin.

“I didn’t want it to be that way.” He craned his neck, trying to make eye contact, but her gaze remained firmly on her work. “I always hated it when we fought.”

She sighed as she made sure the soft gauze bandages were tight against his skin, her touch lingering slightly inches away from where his heart beat under his skin, before she sat back on her heels. “Me too. But—” she slapped her hands against her robed thighs before pushing herself to her feet again. “That’s all in the past. You’re getting married and I adore my job in the UK. The only thing we need to fight about now is how we’re going to split up the girls.”

Jake blinked at her. “You…you want to split them up again? What the hell, Buttercup? They just told us that they wanted a better custody arrangement.”

Buttercup flinched and took a step back from him. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that we need to figure out how to split our time with them so that it’s fair. Should be easier now that you’re not in the Navy anymore.”

He felt his temper flare slightly in his chest, but he fought to hold that mask of calm on his face. “It would probably be even easier if you didn’t live on the other side of the planet.”

Her back stiffened and her face solidified into a mask of emotionless stone. “Indeed it would, but I love my job and I could no more give it up than you could give up your ranch in Texas.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he kept her gaze, slowly raising from his spot on the bed. “No one is asking you to give up your job, only to move. It’s a lot easier to move as a writer and publisher than it is to move a whole damn ranch.”

“Author.” At Jake’s blink, her icy voice sounded again. “I’m an author, Jake. Not a writer. And no one is asking you to move the ranch. I would never ask something like that of you.”

Jake stepped closer, the two of them nearly nose to nose. “I know you wouldn’t. You’d let it all go before you asked me for anything.”

This time he did feel her breath puffing against his face, the air hot against his skin. “I learned a long time ago that asking you for something would only lead to disappointment.”

“You know it wasn’t that easy,” he bit out, stepping even closer, his hands coming up to brace against the wall as she stepped back to lean into it, lean as far as she could out of his space. “What you were asking me for was—”

“Impossible,” she whispered. “I know. And now you know that what you’re asking me for is impossible too.”

“Even if it’s for our daughters?”

The question hung in the mere inches of air between them like a gas, a burning, toxic, intangible thing that was slowly choking them both.

In the silence, he couldn’t help but trace her features with his eyes, and he knew from her unfocused stare that she was doing the same to him. He may be older than he had been when they met, but he knew he still looked good. Got confirmation of it every time he went into town and saw the local ladies. But Buttercup…she looked even better than she had when they were together. The beauty of her youth hadn’t dimmed with age, but only settled into something that spoke of wisdom and loss and pain and rebirth, a shining fire within her. Like a—

“Phoenix!”

Both their heads whipped around as Rooster berated Phoenix for slamming the door open and strolling in like she owned the place. Jake stepped back like he’d been burned, and Buttercup took his momentary distraction as a means of escape, ducking below the arm that had been keeping her caged against the wall and moving back towards the bed. She calmly gathered the discarded materials from the first aid kit and threw them into the wastebasket next to the small hotel room desk.

Buttercup glanced around, her hands busy repacking the white kit, when she spotted her daughters among the crowd of those who were her family, and those who used to be.

“Couldn’t you two pick something a little less identical?” she teased, taking in the matching black and turquoise t-shirts the girls were wearing.

“No, that’s the point,” they replied, in perfect unison.

Buttercup stilled, her fingers hesitating at the latch of the case. “What do you mean?”

Rooster nudged past them, clapping Jake on the back as he strode toward the mini fridge. “They heard you arguing in the hallway,” he whispered in his ear.

Shit. The last thing he wanted was for the girls to hear them arguing, and, based on the look on Buttercup’s face as Bob whispered in her ear, he knew she was thinking the same thing.

“I’m sorry you heard us fighting,” Jake stepped in. “Your mom and I…we’ll work out a custody arrangement that leaves everyone happy. I promise. Divorced couples do it all the time.”

“Yes, well…we want to be sure,” said the twin with the Texan twang in her voice.

“Charlie, what’re you talkin’ about?”

The other twin blinked at him. “But Dad, I’m Charlie.”

Shit again.

Buttercup suddenly stood beside him. “Abby, Charlie, stop fussing about.”

“We’re not fussing about, Mum.”

“Of course we’re not, Mum.”

Buttercup groaned, her hand rising to rub at her eyes in such a familiar way that Jake was tempted to run out and grab her usual migraine relief items.

“Girls, please stop messing around,” Jake begged instead.

“We will.”

“As soon as we go back to the ranch. All of us.”

“Once we’re there, you two can figure out the custody arrangement. Then and only then, we’ll tell you who is who.”

“And you two came up with this scheme all on your own, huh?” Jake crossed his arms, his chest stinging slightly as the bandage pulled tight. His eyes scanned the gallery of adults around the room. His friends, his family, all looked away from him, Javy looking all too interested in the piece of hotel artwork that decorated the wall.

“Girls, please,” Buttercup whispered, crouching down to look them in the eye. “This isn’t fair and you know it. We promise that we’ll figure out a schedule, but we all have to go home. To our own homes.”

“Auntie Nat already called your publisher and said that you were extending your holiday,” one of the twins shrugged. “And Uncle Rooster said that Dad doesn’t have anything to do this week outside of the ranch business.”

“Other than groveling with my in-laws,” Jake muttered.

“Speaking of…wouldn’t this be best anyway, Dad?” the other twin blinked up innocently at him. “This way our stepmother can get to know both of us. Build bridges and heal old wounds and that kind of thing.”

Jake groaned and ran a hand over his face before crouching down, green eyes scanning their features. He could’ve sworn the one on the left was Charlie, but had her hair always been parted like that? And the one on the right kept switching into a damn convincing Texan twang. But the one on the left seemed to be favoring her left leg, which would track with some of the injuries that Charlie had collected over the years on the ranch. But then the twin on the right started favouring her left leg too, and Jake sighed.

“I can’t tell,” he whispered to Buttercup, who looked horrified.

“Neither can I,” she nearly whimpered. “What kind of mother doesn’t know her own children?”

“The kind of mother who taught her children never to give up without a fight,” the twin on the right piped up, smiling brightly at them. “Just one week, Mum. One week at the ranch. We can go on the annual trail ride with Dad, and you can work on your book. You said the flat in London was stifling your creativity anyway. At the end of the week, when you’ve got a schedule for custody, then we’ll tell you who is who and we can all go home. One week. Please?”

“Please, Mum?”

Buttercup groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Fine. But whichever one of you is Abby is losing her allowance for a week for pulling another one of these stunts on me.”

“Same goes for Charlie,” Jake grumbled, his pointer finger drifting between them. “And you two!” Jake turned his finger on Rooster and Javy. “You’ll have to step up and split my ranch responsibilities between you. Y’know, since I’m going to be so busy with my daughters and figuring out a schedule.”

Maybe it wasn’t fair, but Jake had no doubt that his two best friends had something to do with his daughters’ newest scheme.

“I’ll call the ranch and get the house ready for everyone,” Jake offered. “We’ve got more than enough room for the four of you.”

“No need,” Bob piped up. “I’ll be flying back tonight.”

“And I’m going with him,” Phoenix added, shooting a look in Javy’s direction. To Javy’s credit, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Like hell you are,” Buttercup hissed. “You two got me into this mess, so you’re going down with me.”

Bob’s cheeks reddened and Nat looked like she had something to say, but with one more meaningful look from Buttercup, they both nodded.

“Alright then,” Jake sighed. “I guess we’re all heading to the ranch. God help us all.”

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