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major-mads · 3 months

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Chapter 3: Listen to Your Heart

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm so glad y'all are enjoying the series!! Thank you so much for reading!! Us Callum girlies sure got some...cough cough...quality content in episode four, that's for sure! Let me know what you think, and go read the other half of the story using the link below!!! this wonderful gif is by @zsuo!

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 4.7k

August 3rd, 1943

Ruthie, Since Saturday night, you have rarely left my mind. I replay the dance in my head, trying to commit every detail to memory. I love being around you, Ruth. I couldn’t imagine the night going any better than it did, and I’m so glad that you stepped outside of your comfort zone to come with me. Curt’s been giving me a hard time about embarrassing you when I sang, but I told him you loved it, even if I sound like a “dying animal” in Buck’s words. Speaking of Buck, I’ve decided to never let him live down Saturday’s condom incident with Hope. Hugh sure isn’t letting it go, so I can’t help but join in on the fun. Despite that, I think he had a great time with her, even though he’s a total stick in the mud. I can’t believe they didn’t dance, Ruthie! Our dance was my favorite part of the night, besides how we said goodnight, of course.

I would really like to see you again soon, Ruth. It’s no secret that I’m taken with you, and I think you feel the same. We’re spending the next few weeks replacing crews and forts, so we won’t be too busy. If you’re able, please stop by and pay me a visit. At the sight of your sweet, kind smile, and the feeling of your hand in mine, my worries seem to disappear. The only worry left in my mind is that my efforts to convert you to a Yankees fan won’t be successful. I hold onto the hope that you’ll see that the Braves are terrible and that the Yankees are the better team. The Braves went 11 and 18 this past month, and my amazing team went 21 and 11. You can’t argue against stats, slugger. I hope this won’t affect your feelings toward me because then we might have a problem. I can’t wait to see you again soon. Please stay safe up there for me. Your Hotshot, Johnny Egan

August 6th, 1943

Dear John, I am happy to hear that you and the boys are finally getting a break. When we were at the dance, I knew y’all were exhausted, but you sure didn’t show it, Major. You danced and sang like there was no tomorrow, and I had more fun than I had in a long while in your arms. Don’t worry about what Curt or Buck said. I loved your singing, even if it was slightly off-key and very loud. You might have embarrassed me, but seeing you in your element was worth it. Every time I think back to that night, my heart begins to race and I can’t help but smile at the thought of you. I’m so very grateful that you decided to bring me along. Somehow you manage to turn me into a giddy, blushing teenager every time you cross my mind. Our kiss is a cherished memory of mine, and forgive me for being forward, but I hope that we can make more of such memories in the future. Hope had an amazing time with Gale at the dance, and apparently, he wasn’t as much of a “stick in the mud” as you think. I’m sworn to secrecy, but know that they are very fond of each other already. When we got back to Grove the day after the dance, we told Frank what happened with…the incident, and he thought it was hilarious! He even said that he “did his job well,” whatever that means. I would love nothing more than to come see you, but sadly, I don’t know when I’ll be able. Casualties from Italy are getting worse with the invasion of Sicily underway, and we’ve been on runs almost every day since we got back from the dance. Regardless of this, the first chance we get, Hope and I will make our way up to Thorpe Abbotts. I can’t wait to see you again, Johnny, but the blatant slander against the Braves might damage your chances of getting another kiss. We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this because I promise you I am not going to be converted. After all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Don’t hurt yourself falling off your bike during your break. Yours, Ruth Morgan P.S. I would like to meet Meatball the next time I visit the base!

Sunday, August 8th, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

The mess hall buzzed with energy as Buck and Johnny sat at breakfast with Curt, who slowly moved his powdered eggs around on his plate with his fork.

“I can’t eat this shit anymore,” he groaned, pushing the plate away from him.

John took a slow sip of his “coffee,” raising an eyebrow at the man. “Then don’t eat it.”

“Oh wow,” Biddick quipped. “What a great idea, Bucky. I’d never thought of that.”

The major smirked behind his mug and shot his friend a wink. Buck watched on in amusement, used to the two going back and forth as he and John did.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Curt leaned over the table toward John with a teasing glare. “Have you heard anything from Ruthie? Has she mentioned me? I thought I made a good first impression the other night.”

“Hmm,” Johnny hummed, pursing his lips for a moment before pointing at Biddick. “That’s Nurse Morgan to you, you dodo. I’m surprised you even remember anything from the dance with how drunk you were.”

“Oh I couldn’t forget a face like that,” he chuckled.

John’s eyes narrowed playfully as he clasped his hands together and leaned on the table. “Well it’s a good thing for me that she could forget yours, then,” he clapped back. “And you’re not the one she kissed goodnight.”

Buck rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast as Egan’s loud, wide-mouthed cackle echoed through the mostly quiet mess hall. Curt then turned to Gale with a raised brow. “How about Hope-”

“Nope,” Buck interrupted calmly, raising his cup and taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

The other two men watched him as a tiny grin formed on the Major’s lips. Although he didn’t talk about it much, they could tell Buck had already developed deep feelings for the woman.

Raising his eyebrows at Curt, John grinned. “Oh boy.”

“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Biddick laughed, his hand landing on Gale’s shoulder roughly. “You gotten a reply to your letter yet?”

Thinking of the perfectly folded letter from Ruth he’d picked up that morning sitting in his breast pocket, John smiled down at his food, warmth spreading through him at the thought of the blonde. Buck, however, pursed his lips and shook his head at the question.

“I actually haven’t written her yet,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “I want-”

“What!?” Johnny all but yelled, his eyes widening as coffee almost spewed from his mouth. “Why the hell not, Buck? I already sent one to Ruth and got a response.”

Gale groaned and put down his fork with a clink. “Because of Hugh.”

“Why are you so worried about Charlie?” Curtis asked, wearing a confused expression.

“Because he’s in my squadron. And he’s her brother.”

John pointed and leaned over the table at him. “Hope’s a big girl, Buck. She can make her own decisions. Screw what Hugh says.”

“But-” Gale started but was once again cut off by Bucky.

“He’s gonna hate you even more if he thinks you're leading her on. You not sending Hope a letter isn’t making anything better,” he said, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips as he continued. “On top of the condom situation.”

John and Curt busted out into chuckles as Buck just groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “Oh, please don’t remind me.”

The ideal chatter was disturbed by the door to the mess hall swinging back on its hinges with a crash, followed by heavy footfall as Hugh all but stormed through the building like a tornado. He snatched a mug off a table and poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee before marching past the trio, staring daggers at Gale who looked up worriedly from his breakfast.

Curt’s eyes followed the man as he walked in, muttering under his breath, “Speak of the devil.”

"Good morning to you, too, Sparky," John called out with a small wave as he walked by, only to be met with deafening silence from the other pilot.

Hugh's harsh glare was burning a hole in the back of Gale’s skull and he thought any second now he’d come into his brain and it would be lights out.

“You’ve really pissed him off this time, Buck, and you didn’t even get his sister into bed,” John laughed heartily, taking a long swig from his whiskey and coffee, it was most likely more whiskey than coffee but Gale humored him.

“Will you give it a rest? I’m already getting it from Hugh without your added input,” Gale stabbed aggressively at his scrambled eggs, willing the eyes of the room to stop looking at him.

Curt snorted beside him, waving his fork around. “Well, I’m telling you boys, if I’d have had Hope in my arms and she’d bought condoms with her, let’s just say she wouldn’t have been going back home with them.”

That was the final straw.

Gale slammed his fist down on the table, ignoring the way Johnny jumped in his seat, spilling his coffee over the table, and the way several chunks of his scrambled egg disappeared onto the floor.

“You say anymore slander about my girl, Biddick and I swear…”

“Your girl, Buck?” John raised his right eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips as his mustache twitched. “She’s your girl and you haven’t even written her yet?”

Sometimes Gale wished he could rip that stupid mustache off John’s face, but he kept his cool.

It would seem that Hugh had heard the whole commotion. His chair screeching back from the table, he stomped up between the tables once more, his glare never leaving Gale until the door slammed shut behind him.

Buck groaned, unsure if it was in relief or at the impending doom that he was likely to suffer if this debacle continued. Without a second thought, he excused himself from the table, ignoring the calls of protest from John and Curt, and hurried after Hugh.

“Hugh! Hugh, wait up. Please, I want to talk to you,” Gale jogged after the tall brunette whose face turned sour the instant he noticed him.

The door quickly closed behind him, and Curt looked at the major across from him with a guilty expression. “I was just joking, Bucky. I would never-”

“Ahh don’t worry about it,” John said as he sipped on his coffee. “He knows that. Like you said, Buck’s got it bad and this thing with Hugh has been eating at him since Saturday.”

Biddick nodded to himself, his eyes lingering on the door. “Do you think Hugh’ll let it go?”

“For Buck’s sake, I do…I think he will. Doesn’t mean I won’t still rag Buck about it, though.”

“Yeah,” Curt mumbled, staring down at his plate.

Neither man spoke for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts until Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up. “I’ve got a letter to write. See you later, Curt.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Biddick replied. “Bucky Egan writing a love letter. Looks like Buck isn’t the only one who’s got it bad.”

John tugged his white-fleece jacket back into place and chuckled at his friend. “Don’t go all soft on me.”

“I think it suits you, John. Really,” he urged, a soft smile on his lips. “You seem happier.”

Staring at him for a moment, Bucky didn’t quite know how to respond. He felt happier. He had something to look forward to other than getting drunk at the bar or the adrenaline rush he got when the sound of .50 cal brownings echoed through his fort. John placed his cap back on his head, and with a curt nod, turned toward the door.

His tie suddenly became too tight around his throat as he pushed through the doors into the cool English air, and he quickly loosened it, letting it hang limply as he took a deep breath. In that moment, John Egan had a profound realization.

Since he came over to England in May, he had been simply going through the motions, replaying the same days over and over: Wake up…Fly forts…Bomb targets…Get drunk…Show a woman a good time…then start the cycle again the next day. For someone with such a passionate personality, he lacked the feeling that he so deeply desired. Curt could vouch for this, being the one to knock some feeling back into him a few months back on the wing of Mugwump.

But since that day in July when the nurses landed on their small base in East Anglia, feeling had slowly been creeping back into his life. He first felt it when Ruth caught him staring, and was soon captivated by her dimpled smile and capable personality. The numbness that had become so familiar to him faded into the background when she was near, her laughter shaking free his heart a little more each time it left her lips.

He was alive with Ruth. More alive than he felt when ME-109s whizzed past him or when flack shook his fort. More alive than when he unbuttoned a woman’s dress and laid her down. More alive than the burning sensation that traveled down his throat when he downed another shot at the bar.

Over the past few weeks, the blonde nurse had somehow burrowed into his jaded exterior and broken down the walls he didn’t even know existed.

John’s mind reeled as he silently mounted his bike and rode to the base HQ. The ride passed in a blur, and before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk, staring down at the blank sheet of paper before him. He hadn’t had a problem writing her before, so why was this any different?

How was he supposed to convey such profound feelings in a letter?

He started simply, letting his mind imagine her there beside him.

“Dear Ruth.”

Thursday, August 12, 1943: Termini Imerese, Sicily, Italy

“You ready girls!” Frank called over his shoulder, glancing as Hope and Ruth took the stretcher from the medics below them and loaded the last wounded soldier onto the rack. Hope pulled out her flight manifest and checked off the final patient to board. The young boy reached out, grasping her hand.

“Nurse,” his voice cracking as he tried to grab her attention. He was so young, barely eighteen years old. His bright blue eyes, glossy and hazy, gazed up at her.

“Yes, My Love,” Hope crouched down, clasping the boy's hand in one of hers while her other brushed away his brunette locks from his face. She tried to stop her eyes from drifting down his body to where only stumps of his legs remained, the burnt flesh wrapped neatly in crisp bandages.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered and Hope smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand. “When I write home, I’m gonna tell my Momma ‘bout you.”

A single tear trickled down her cheek and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and watching until he drifted off to sleep. His delicate, young features were no longer etched with worry, and the hard lines across his forehead softened as the morphine began to take effect.

Hope turned, watching as Ruth comforted one of the other young men further down the plane who had managed to remove some of his bandages.

“Hey, don’t do that, you need those,” Ruth tutted quietly, helping the Private sit up a little so she could secure fresh, white bandages around his bloody arm. The poor boy grumbled under his breath as Ruth tucked in the end. “Now leave ‘em be, okay?”

The young boy nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. They weren’t the most comfortable racks, just cool metal bars lining the hammock-like beds that swayed as the C-47 rocked through the sky.

Hope took her seat beside Ruth, who had finished trying to redress the soldier's wounds, smiling briefly at her friend, who wore the same exhausted expression she did.

“I can’t wait to get back to the Grove. I need a warm bath and my bed,” Ruth mumbled, stretching out her aching muscles that screamed against the tension in her body.

“Oh don’t say that, Rue. We’ve still got to drop these poor boys off at the hospital in Mateur.” Ruth just groaned in response.

The dance with the boys had been their last outing in a while. It was the last time Hope hadn’t felt completely exhausted. She’d been relaxed, able to let go, and safe in Gale’s arms.

This trip had been hard. The plane was at full capacity and when they arrived on the airfield at Termini Imerese, Sicily, they were instantly thrown into action. The girls disappeared into the makeshift hospitals that lined the airfield, the white tents flapping in the harsh wind that did little to cool the heat from the scorching midday sun.

Hope and Ruth conferred with the surgeons, assessing and stabilizing patients that were safe to fly, meaning that many of the young men with head injuries or who had suffered significant blood loss would be unable to fly due to the unpressurized aircraft cabins. Many of the men didn’t have emergency medical tags, so the girls had to make their own assessments for many of the patients.

The thrumming roar of the C-47’s engine erupting to life always brought a great sense of comfort to Hope, along with an impending sense of fear in unison. This job, while rejuvenating her youth through the exhilarating flights and the lives they saved, aged her with each passing moment spent in the air, because after every successful landing she was left with the feeling that although they had saved lives, they couldn’t save them all. This weighed heavily on both of the women.

Frank and his fellow pilot chatted hastily in the cockpit, their muffled voices cracking through over the radio. As soon as the plane leveled out Hope and Ruth stood, each taking a side of the plane and beginning the checkups on their patients, recording their temperature, pulse, and respiration as well as checking there was no strike through of blood from their dressings. The girls worked quickly, only conferring on their patients' conditions.

It always amazed Hope how quickly their work changed them, on the flight over Ruth had been once again telling her about the letter she’d received from John. Hope feared she could probably quote Ruth’s letter herself by now, but she never complained, pleased that Ruth was finally coming out of herself.

Hope had her own letter from Gale tucked into her top overall pocket, over her heart. His words burned into her flesh and she felt as though he was right there beside her all along.

Having dropped off the soldiers at the large US hospital in Mateur, Tunisia, the C-47 headed home. The mood was somber as the large metal bird rattled its way across Europe towards England.

Ruth’s eyes had closed about half an hour before, and Hope didn’t have the heart to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, the wrinkles that normally appeared when she smiled were smoothed away, and her blonde locks fell softly from where she had so lovingly pinned them that very morning.

Hope took Gale’s letter out of her pocket, smoothing out the creases that had poked around the edge of the page. Words of affirmation sprung out at her and a smile was instantly cemented to her lips as she relieved the last moments with him.

The flight home always seemed quicker, and soon ‘The Angel of Death’ was touching down on the runway. Hope helped a rather sleepy Ruth off the plane and waved goodnight to Frank, who chuckled in amusement at the blonde’s incoherent murmurs, some of them sounding an awful lot like the name of her beloved major.

“Goodnight Ladies.”

“Come on, Rue. Let’s get you home,” Hope wrapped her arm around her sleepy friend, leading the way to the Nissan huts they were billeted in.

Some of the other nurses were still stationed in Africa and so they currently had the hut to themselves. Hope lay Ruth down on the bed, smiling as she snuggled closer into the pillow.

So much for a warm bath…

Hope would rag her about it later, but she couldn’t deny that the stress of the day was getting to her too, but something restless kept her from falling into her own bed. Instead, Hope sat at the small desk in the corner, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She pulled Gale’s crumpled letter from her pocket, smoothed it flat onto the desk, and began writing her reply.

The following day, the girls finally had a day off, and as much as they wanted to make the trip up to Thorpe Abbotts, the nurses were so exhausted that they barely got out of bed.

“What time is it?” Ruth groaned, turning onto her side to hide from the bright sun peeking through the curtains.

Getting no response, she cracked her eyes open, and a smile tugged at her lips at the sight before her. In the corner of the room, Hope’s cheek lay smushed against the desktop, her messy black hair splayed around her as she slept soundly. The corner of a paper could just barely be seen under her hair, and Ruth immediately knew what she’d fallen asleep doing.

Sighing softly, she pulled back her covers and padded over to Hope, wincing at the sting of her feet against the cold floors. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, rubbing the woman’s shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

She awoke slowly, allowing the blonde to sit her up off the desk. “Five more minutes,” Hope mumbled.

Ruth chuckled, the sound echoing through the silent hut. Luckily, Hope’s bed was directly beside the desk, so the smaller woman didn’t have to maneuver her around too much to get her onto the mattress.

Gently laying her extra blanket over her best friend, Ruth smiled down at her. “There you go. Snug as a bug.”

She then walked over to her bed and snuggled under the covers again, but not before closing their blackout curtains, causing darkness to envelop the room once again. The warmth drew her back into her peaceful slumber, her eyes fluttering closed as her mind repeated Johnny’s latest letter:

Sunday, August 8th, 1943

Dear Ruth, I can’t wait to see you again. I know I said that in my last letter, but I’ve recently discovered that absence actually does make the heart grow fonder. I find myself waiting in anticipation for your letters the moment I send off my own, and I long to see you…to have you here next to me. Hopefully, your missions will ease soon and you’ll finally get a break, too. I understand how tiring it can be to fly day after day, and that’s without even having to take care of patients. Please take care of yourself, alright? As much as I would love to see you, please rest if you get the chance. Don’t worry about me. We’ll see each other soon enough. Today Buck finally wrote Hope back. I tried to tell him how stupid it was to wait, but he was adamant about getting Hugh’s approval. He’s a bigger man than I am, Ruth. Regardless of this, we can never let him live the incident down…ever. In response to your threat to withhold your affection from me, I say bring it on. Like I said before, you can’t argue with facts. The Yankees are the better team, and I’m going to convince you of that, so I cannot agree to disagree. I’m too stubborn to let you win, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know if you’ll be able to resist my charming personality…or the mustache. I know you love the mustache, Ruth. If you decide to follow through on your threat, I’ll shave it off. Just for you. Don’t stand between a man and kisses from his girl. It doesn’t end well for anyone. But it’s like you said, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Please be safe, Ruthie, and know I am thinking of you. Yours, John Egan

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hope! Ruth! You alive in there?” a voice hollered through the hut’s door, rousing Ruth for the second time that morning. She opened her mouth to reply, but Hope beat her to it.

“Go away, Frank!” she groaned, covering her ears with her pillow.

“It’s almost noon,” the man chuckled. “I know you’re tired but you both need to get up. We’ve got stuff to do.”

Sitting up abruptly, Ruth grabbed her watch off her small side table, her eyes widening when she read 11:43 am. She looked over to Hope who was also staring at her watch in utter disbelief.

“I haven’t slept in this much since I was a teenager,” Hope muttered under her breath before turning to Ruth, almost breaking into a fit of laughter at the blonde’s wonky curls from the day before. “We look terrible.”

Frank pounded his fist against the door, yelling, “Get up!”

“WE ARE!!” They both hollered back, unable to keep the frustration from lacing their voices.

Throwing off her covers, Hope stood to her feet and marched over to the door, swinging it open. Ruth clamored quickly out of bed to follow her, stopping right behind her shoulder as they glared at Frank. His eyes scanned the women before him, and a grimace appeared on his face at their ragged appearances.

“Okay,” he started, raising his hands in surrender. “Go back to sleep. You look like shit, and I’d rather do things on the plane by myself than deal with your grumpy attitudes.”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “Nope. We’re awake now,” Hope retorted, smiling sweetly at him.

Sighing, Frank stepped back from the door with a barely concealed smirk. “Meet me at the hardstand.”

As Hope shut the door, Ruth flopped back on her bed, her eyes following Hope’s figure walking across the room to the desk in the corner. “How’s Gale?” she asked, propping her head up with her hand.

Hope began to neatly fold up the letter, smiling softly as she talked over her shoulder. “He’s good. Said he didn’t write because of Hugh causing problems, but he’s got his blessing now.” She turned toward Ruth with dusty pink cheeks, giggling to herself. “He even signed his last letter with ‘your Gale.’”

“Hope!” Ruth squealed, sitting up and covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like Gale, and I’m sure Hugh sees how much he adores you.”

Hope looked down at the letter in her hands, her heart swelling at the thought of the man. “He’s amazing,” she whispered as her eyes traced over his name on the paper. After a few moments, she shook her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts, and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “How’s John?”

It was now Ruth’s turn to blush, the tips of her ears heating up at the mention of the major. “Great…amazing…wonderful. I feel like I’ve known him so much longer than a few weeks, Hope. You know how I can get sometimes, but when I’m with him, I don’t feel nearly as anxious. And when he kissed me…I wished it could’ve lasted forever. I can’t wait to see him again.”

Sighing softly, Hope plopped down onto her bed. “Look at us, Rue. We’re like a bunch of lovesick teenagers.”

“Yeah, we are,” Ruth giggled, her mind replaying her and John’s laughter, soft touches, and tender looks from the dance. The way he held her face so delicately, how his lips-

“Come on,” Hope called, her mattress squeaking as she got up, breaking Ruth from her thoughts. “Let’s get ready so we can go annoy Frank.”

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simonalkenmayer · 1 year

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Tell me why humans can physically and surgically alter their bodies to show off their beliefs (circumcision, tattoos and piercings) their aesthetic preferences (a more straight smile or nose) to attract a mate like a bird (boobs butts tummy tucks, lifts) to be thinner, etc etc, but it’s somehow bad when trans people do it to feel less suicidal.

To me the latter reason is in fact the most valid.

Yet if someone has a surgical procedure to live six months longer, like having a tumor removed, we call them heroes.

So surgery to live longer is fine, but not if you’re trans.

Why?

Really. Why.

Why do you care so god damn much?

It’s disgusting hypocrisy counter to reason. It’s bigotry thinly disguised by falsehoods of spooky ominous trans people.

I’ve been a monster my entire life and trans people are treated worse than I am. I’ve slept in a graveyard more times than I can count. I could do it now safely and legally, but a trans person can’t pee in public in a locked room while minding their own business.

Humans are mad. TERFs are the new torch carrying mobs. And trans people are the latest creature in the tower.

Count me out of the bonfire.

I disguised what I was to hide. Trans people are braver than even I. TERFism isn’t feminism. It does nothing but reduce women to their genitals and femininity to a reflection of fate rather than an expression of identity.

Bigotry makes terrible people. Trust me. They live very shallow and empty lives. They see no complexity, no great tapestry, no fugues. No overlapping subtle patterns, no profound awe. They do not see reality. They see themself everywhere all the time, themself—being rejected or embraced over and over. It’s just feedback. They are robotic sensory response automata.

The only thing a tolerant person cannot tolerate is intolerance. It’s a paradox, so make a choice. I choose to reject intolerance. Therefore, those who are intolerant must be rejected. TERFs lack understanding. They lack compassion. They lack willingness to learn or think outside their own rigid ideas of themself. Therefore I reject them.

It’s very very sad…and incredibly boring.

Transphobes live in their own hell. Sadly they rarely realize it until it’s too late. Some might think that fine karma.

I certainly do.

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whydoyoucare866 · 9 months

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OMG I NEED MORE MIGUEL X LATINA READER!!!

Write whatever you want, just give us more please <333

HELLO!! i was gonna post Closet pt 2 to a request of it, but accidentally clicked to reply privately and idk what happened to that post, and this is the only request that looks like i can use for this!!

Also Ik people who asked for part 2 wanted some smut, but i love angst to fluff and idk how to write smut😭, maybe i can try for a part 3??

Also I fell asleep while writing this and when I woke up my phone was locked and I had lost all progress I made and had to rewrite it

WTF?

Miguel O’hara x Latina Reader

Part 1

It was 2 am, you were laying down and ‘WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!?’ was the only thing in your mind after your little moment with Miguel in the closet, he had fucking kissed you, and he told you that it wasn’t over, it HAD to mean something… Right? what if you were just overthinking things, maybe he couldn’t think of any better way of shutting you up, maybe-

Suddenly you heard your phone ringing, thinking it was Miguel you excitedly picked up only to realize it was definitely not Miguel the one calling you.

“Hey, are you okay? I just wanted to apologize for leaving you in that closet with Miguel, I didn’t actually mean to, I mean it would have been a great idea but I sadly didn’t come up with it, I know Miguel is really mean to you and I’m so sorry that I left you in there-“

“He kissed me”

“Oh my god, I knew he was gonna be mean I’m so sorr- wait what? Did I hear you correctly?”

“You heard me, but I’m so confused, like it all statted when we got trapped in there, he said it was probably my plan for us to get trapped in there together and be able to get in his personal space, I called him an asshole and he started being mean about my accent and I just snapped at him, I was telling him how I don’t know why he hates me so much when he cut me off by kissing me, and then like it ended in a heavy make out session, until you opened the door, then he told me it wasn’t over yet, but I’ve been waiting all day and he hasn’t even texted me!”

“Hmm maybe he doesn’t know how to, you know that Miguel isn’t very good at talking to people, have you tried initiating conversation with him?

“Yes! I tried to talk to him but he was busy, then I texted him but he just read my text! I’m really confused Peter, what if he didn’t actually mean to kiss me, maybe he just couldn’t think of any better way of shutting me up or something.”

“Hmm then why would it turn into a make out if it was just that, I don’t think he would just kiss someone like that without meaning it, even less to continue a kiss like that.”

“Well, maybe after kissing me he just realized how touch starved he was or something, wanting more but not necessarily from me!”

“No, I don’t think Miguel is the type of person to just go around kissing people without meaning it, maybe he’s just busy, You know how much he overworks himself, you should stop worrying, go to sleep and just try to be patient with him!”

“Okay Pete thanks, I will try to go to sleep, night.”

“Night! and just remember, don’t worry too much about it and just be patient!”

“Okay, I will, byee”

And you were patient the next day.

And the day after that.

And after that.

And after that, until it had been a month of Miguel straight out ignoring you and only interacting with you when it was really necessary and he had no option but to do so, using Jess to communicate with you if it wasn’t crucial for him to interact with you, this only made you more confused at the start, but then you concluded it just confirmed that he didn’t actually mean anything out of that kiss.

So you decided that you were done waiting for him, and you were done hurting, so you were gonna move on.

As if the universe had heard you, Jess called you into Miguel’s office and introduced you to a new recruit that she thought you would get along with, he had curly hair, green eyes, he was tall and a bit muscular but not like Miguel, he was the prettiest man you had ever seen, well after Miguel…

He introduced himself as Mariano.

Of course Miguel noticed the look awe in your face, but to his dismay Jess told you to give Mariano a tour which you happily agreed to, maybe too happily for Miguel’s liking.

_______________________________________

It had been almost a month since Mariano was recruited, and even if Miguel didn’t like it, you and Mariano had grown closer.

Miguel really wanted to do something about it, but he hadn’t spoken a word to you for like two months, how was he supposed to just talk to you and tell you to stay away from that man cause he was jealous after everything he did?

How could he even explain why he suddenly ghosted you when even himself didn’t know the reason, don’t get me wrong, Miguel liked that kiss, hell, he loved it, he wanted to do it again, and again, and again, it felt like a drug and he felt as if he was going through withdrawal, and Mariano in the picture didn’t help the symptoms.

So Miguel did the most reasonable thing to do, he went to Peter B.

Peter told Miguel to just tell you what he really felt and to explain why he ghosted you before Mariano made a move, because it was obvious that Mariano had a huge crush on you, sadly it seemed like you had a crush in him too.

So Miguel ran, he went over to your universe as fast as he could, he knocked on your door without actually having a speech prepared, and before he knew it you had already opened the door, he looked at you and saw you wearing the black dress that he gave you, he saw as you had really heavy make up and then he realized why you opened so quickly… you were going on a date.

“Wait, Miguel? what are you doing here” you said in a not so happy tone.

“Please don’t go on a date with Mariano”.

“And why should I listen to you?”.

“Just please, don’t go”.

“¿Qué chingados te pasa? ¿Quién te crees Miguel? eh? a ver, no me puedes besar y luego ignorarme para venir a decirme con quien puedo salir y con quien no solo porque te dolió en tu ego”.

“Okay no, please, that’s not why I’m telling you this”.

“Then why is it Miguel? I’m fucking tired of your bullshit and of you playing with me whenever you want to.”

“I’m telling you this because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you, I want to be the one that you go out on dates with, not that idiot”.

“Well. should’ve thought about that before ghosting me”.

“Okay, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t ghost you just because, I just… I was just really scared of being in love again and losing that person I love again, I was scared because after that kiss all I ever wanted to do was to do it again and to keep kissing you forever, please I’ll make it up to you! So please, don’t go, please let me be the one that takes you out on dates and be able to love you, okay?”

“Oh my god. you love me too”.

#accross the spiderverse #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x reader angst #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #hobie brown x reader #into the spider verse

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intothegenshinworld · 2 years

Note

How do you think people would react to a partially paralyzed reader who can only walk for limited amounts of time before their legs just become numb and unable to move? They tend to like RPGs, especially open world, for this very reason because they get to do whatever they want and go wherever they please. Genshin Impact became their favorite. Little do they know, the entirety of Teyvat awaited them to arrive for an adventure where the acolytes will be there to protect them piously as theytravel

Note: I am not a doctor nor am I partially paralyzed. Parts about this might be inaccurate but I tried my best to focus on a reader with limited movement time before they are unable to walk. Hopefully, this is still okay!

A few months ago you had been isekai-ed into Tevyat. All the playable characters and npc’s seemed to know about you. Apparently, as you played the game behind the screen they had gotten to know you. You too, of course, know them inside out as well. You played the game every day as an escape, getting to know the world Tevyat and its inhabitants.

Sadly you bumped into some problems when first arriving here, but do not worry! Everyone is happy to help in any possible way. With your limited movement time, you move from room to room. For bigger distances they create a wheelchair or someone will accompany you in case you needed to be carried when you couldn’t walk anymore.

Everyone is really understanding about the situation and while it still sucks, with the help of everyone you’re able to visit the places you’d only see behind the screen. For once in your life, you feel like a real adventurer.

Some small scenarios:

Diluc, the first one to actually carry you. He is extremely alert and notices your fatigue and weak legs before you can collapse. He’s a gentleman, asking permission if he can continue to carry you. Overall he’s very strong and isn’t bothered at all by your weight. If you ever happen to take a stroll around Mondstad you should take this guy with you. He is yearning for someone to spend time with, and because he carries his claymore everywhere it isn’t a problem when he has to carry you for longer distances either. ‘Don’t worry. I’m used to the weight of my claymores. Don’t think of this as a bother. I do fear I might be less capable of keeping you entertained.’

I can see Noelle lifting you up like its nothing. No matter how big or tall you are, she will pick you up bridal style and carry you somewhere safe and comfortable. ‘You seem tired. Would you like some tea? I'll brew you some. Do you take sugar? One cube, or two?’

Everyone knows how strong Itto is. He is a bit too excited when you ask him if he can carry you for the remaining distance to Inazuma city but it excites you as well. Just cling to Itto! He will make sure that you’re safe! ‘Oh and don’t worry majesty! I can run really fast if you wanna get home quickly. What’s that? You want me to walk slowly. I see, I see. Everyone wants to hang out with the great Arataki Itto, after all.’

Xiao is pushing the wheelchair around the roads of Wangshu inn after you came to eat almond tofu with the adepti. He might not express it visibly but the fact that he takes time off his duties to take a walk with you ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS!! Assures you that he enjoys it just as much as you do. ‘Hmm. What’s so special about the birds? …cute, you say?’

Just know that Venti will create wind steams for you or take Dvalin as your personal airplane to go literally anywhere. ‘Ah! Your Grace! Looking for a flight somewhere? I’ll gladly follow you around every nation in Tevyat!’

The Kamisato siblings pushing you on your wheelchair around the busy streets of Inazuma city. Nobody looks at you weirdly, instead they greet the three of you with lots of warmth and free delicacies. In the end Thoma ends up joining you and brings the latest news about the Inazuman citizens. ‘Are you willing to try hotpot with us later? Of course, we won’t put the special ingredients in this time.’

Benny’s adventure team taking you with them. Everyone knows how dangerous that misfortune can be so one of the Knight’s ends up tagging along. If it’s Kaeya you better still be prepared for chaos. ‘You want to join us? Maybe with the creator we'll find the most valuable treasure in the whole world!’

The ex-archon Zhongli keeps you company for hours. He doesn’t do much now that he’s retired so be prepared for a bunch of tea and hours of Liyue history. Its literally free personalised ASMR. ‘Boats are made for transferring commodities back and forth, and those that come across Liyue tend-‘

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ln4-llingforu · 10 months

Note

Hey!! Specific request for you :) meeting Lando at a post Vegas GP party. You message back and forth as he goes to Abu Dhabi, but then he surprises you and flies to your hometown to spend his first week post season. You get to show him around and introduce him to your family and friends, etc?

There's Something So Magic About You

I love this idea!!

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

Your Tiktok had blown up in the past few months, with breaking down and generally commentating on the ongoing of F1 both on and off of the grid. This had led to you getting invited to the brand new Las Vegas grand prix with Ferrari. But it wasn't the boys in red that were catching your eye, it was a certain British boy in his 'papaya-esque' uniform, he'd been growing out his facial hair all season and was now starting to look a lot more mature. Little did you know you'd caught his eye aswell, he'd seen you on tiktok breaking down his great overtakes and massive progress McLaren had made throughout the season.

Sundays race hadn't went amazingly for Ferrari with one driver DNF-ing mid way through the race and the other receiving multiple penalties during qualifying leading to a very difficult start to the race, they had not ended where they had wished, some who did however, was a certain Lando Norris who had came second, his best result all season.

Obviously, with it being Las Vegas, the after party was huge, drivers, friends, mechanics even a few team principals had shown their faces. The drinks were flowing, the music was booming and the whole club was alive, you were simply observing until you felt someone tap you on the shoulder.

"Hi" you heard, shouted over the music by a voice you'd come to know very well, "I'm Lando, its a pleasure to meet you"

"I'm very aware of who you are" you replied, you words slightly slurred after what was maybe one too many drinks.

"So do i get a name? Or am i just gonna have to call you 'the girl that would look 100x better in orange?" He added, a slight of hope in his voice.

"I quite like that actually, it has a bit of a ring to it, guess if you want a name you're gonna have to work for it, papaya boy" you replied, in a half-serious way, as you turned to walk off into the night, he grabbed you by the waist pulling you back in .

"If i can't get a name can i at least get a number??" He was almost starting to sound desperate.

You complied, exchanging numbers and sending a quick text just to make sure they were right. At this point you knew you'd had one too many, you could both tell this as Lando, who had also had a few too many tonight suggested you shared a ride back to the hotel.

When you arrived you parted ways and got in separate elevators. It was then it hit you, not only did he notice you, he wanted you.

The week between Vegas and Abu Dhabi went by in a blur with you and Lando barely leaving each other alone, going from awkward hellos to spilling secrets and learning about one another so quickly it was hard to remember a time before you knew him. Sadly, for both of you, you couldn't attend the finale race of this season, promising Lando that you'd watch every second and call him when he was alone.

The weekend went by, Lando had done well by all means, but he didn't win, he'd made it into P4 which was still amazing, but Lando seemed very upset and you felt horrible that you couldn't be there. You asked if he was doing any celebrating to which he said he had some 'important business' to attend to and honestly, you were too afraid to ask.

And oh, were you glad you didn't, on Monday morning you were woken up by a loud knock at your door, expecting it to just be a package you had ordered, you put very little effort into making yourself look presentable so when you opened the door and saw a smile you had longed for for so long, it took you a minute to even process what was happening.

He almost luged at you hugging you tighter than you'd ever been hugged, you asked what he was doing here to which he replied that he wanted to spend time with his new found favourite person.

You spent the week visiting different places in your hometown, your favourite restaurant, the park where you learned how to ride a bike, he even met some of your friends.

It got to Friday, almost time for him to go, though it was likely you'd go with him at least for a little while. Casually, while you were getting ready to go for your weekly family dinner, which Lando had begged to go to until you asked your mum who was delighted to have him over, he said he wished you two could be more, something serious, you asked why you couldn't, he didn't give you a direct answer, he simply asked if you would be his girlfriend, of course you agreed.

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

I hope this fit what you imagined :))

If you have any other weirdly specific requests please send them :))

Masterlist

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #f1 x you #f1 fluff #f1 mclaren

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vodika-vibes · 1 month

Note

I have another Jango x female reader smut scenario idea~ The reader regularly hires Jango for jobs, there's mutual attraction between them; strong enough for Jango to suavely suggest waving his fee in exchange for her sharing his bed, while she is tempted, she always refuses as it doesn't feel right to not pay him,or to sleep with a client, no matter how attracted she is. He's always gracious and somewhat amused by her refusal, but he always puts the same offer on the table. Because he knows she feels the same and wants him just as much too. Then one job almost goes completely sideways, Jango was completely fine and handled the situation wonderfully, but she realizes she could've lost him forever and throws caution to the wind, practically jumping him with a kiss when he lands, pushing him down onto the bed on his ship and they have the most mind blowing sex they have ever had.

Just Once More

Summary: Jango Fett impresses you, as a man and as a bounty hunter. But, as much as you might want to, you’ve never taken him up on his offer to join him in his bed. Well, not yet, at least.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 1905

Warnings: Smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to what you had in mind. It turns out that I had more plot than smut for this story, so I might, possibly, continue this. Maybe.

The holo flickers to life in front of you, and a bright smile crosses your face. Jango always answers holos from you, no matter what he might be doing. “Jango,” You greet him with a fond smile.

“Cyare,” The familiar pet name falls from his lips with ease, and you know enough Mando’a to know that it’s a very affectionate pet name, though you can’t remember exactly what it means. “Are you calling to say that you changed your mind about my offer?”

His voice is light, and conversational, and you can’t help but to lean back in your chair and release a quiet laugh, “Not yet.” It looks like he just stepped out of the fresher, as he’s shirtless and the bottoms of his undersuit are hanging low on his hips.

“How many more times am I going to have to make the offer before you take me up on it?”

You pull your gaze from his chest, a small grin playing on your lips, “Just once more, as ever.”

He chuckles lowly, and you release a silent sigh, he really has no business being as attractive as he is. If only you had met him in, literally, any other way other than by hiring him. Then you wouldn’t have a problem accepting his offer to join him in his bed.

“I have a job for you, if you’re interested.” You offer as you pull yourself out of your, increasingly salacious, fantasies about the man on the other end of the call.

“You do send me to the most interesting places,” Jango replies thoughtfully, “Sadly, I’m on a job already.”

Your face falls, disappointing, but not unsurprising. He is the best, after all. “I see. Well, if you’re too busy, you’re too busy. I’ll comm someone else-”

“Wait, hold on.” Jango interrupts, “What’s the job?’

You glance at him, “Well, you remember the fiasco on Rishi several months back?”

“Of course I do.”

“Right, well this is a continuation of that.”

Jango frowns, “I thought I cleaned that mess up.”

You hold your hands out to the side, “So did I, but I got an incredibly hostile message from the person who runs that basically ordering me to Ord Mantell to deal with this-”

“You’re not going, are you?”

“Do I look that dumb to you?” There’s an amused smile on your lips, “No, Jango, I know a trap when I hear one. But-”

“But-?”

You hesitate, and then sigh, “Since I ignored that message it’s started to feel like I’m being followed.”

Jango’s frown deepens, “You said Ord Mantell?”

“Yeah. On one of the islands.” You rub your nose with the palm of your hand, a nervous habit from your childhood that’s reared its ugly head due to the situation you’re in, “I know you already have a job, Jango, I’ll pay triple your regular rate…just…I trust you the most.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jango replies, “No charge.”

“Jango-”

“Someone’s threatening you, cyar’ika. No charge.” Jango interrupts, and then he glances to the side, and his lips twist, “This Tyrannous guy will just have to find another bounty hunter to do his job.”

You tilt your head, “That’s quite a name.”

“Tell me about it.” You hear the sound of Jango’s fingers tapping against metal, “I’m coming to you. We’ll go down to Ord Mantell together, but you’ll stay on the ship while I deal with this situation.”

All of the tension drains from your body, “Thank you, Jango.”

“Thank me when you’re safe, cyar’ika, not a moment sooner.”

Ord Mantell is a nice planet.

Or it would be if it wasn’t home to con artists, smugglers, and criminals of every background. Oh sure, the Republic makes a good showing of having soldiers garrisoned here, but all that happens is that the soldiers become smugglers, or con artists, or criminals.

Jango leans over the back of your seat as you avoid the major city and head for one of the small islands. The one located in the message you were sent all those months ago.

“That must be it,” Jango notes, his eyes narrowing at the warehouse just barely visible though the viewport.

“I’m not sure how comfortable I am bringing the Orphan in close to that building.” You admit as you tilt your head to look at him, “Options?”

He rubs his gloved knuckles against the back of your neck, the action soothing to you, even if he didn’t mean it that way. “What about over there, in that clearing?” Jango asks, “The Orphan isn’t that big, after all.”

“Mm, that should be fine.” You finally say after you eye the clearing critically. You bring your ship over and set her down in the middle of the clearing, and then turn in your chair to look at Jango.

“Alright, stay on the ship.” He says, as he pulls his helmet on, his voice distorting halfway through his sentence. “Lock it up tight behind me.”

“You think someone will come and attack me?” You ask, your brow furrowing in anxiety.

Jango reaches out and smoothes the line off your brow, “I’m not going to let that happen.” He sounds so sure, so confident, that the anxiety fades away as though it never existed in the first place.

You follow him over to the door, and press the button to allow it to slide open, the stairs lowering as it does so, and you favor him with a small smile, “Happy hunting, Jango.”

He tilts his helmet towards you as he descends the stairs, “Remember, cyar’ika, lock up behind me.”

“Got it.” As soon as he’s on the ground, you press the button to recall the stairs, and you watch as he vanishes into the forest, as the door slides shut and locks. And then you head back into your cockpit and prop your feet up on the console and wait.

Forty-five minutes later, you yelp as your ship is rocked by an explosion. And, for a moment, you think that someone shot at your ship. And then you see that the warehouse, barely visible in the distance, is now burning, and your heart drops into your stomach.

You scramble out of your seat and over to the door, your hand hovering over the door panel, before you curl your hand into a fist and forcibly drop it to your side.

Jango said leave the door shut and locked.

He’s fine, you’re sure. He has to be fine.

Fifteen minutes later, your comm chimes as a familiar comm code slides across the screen, and you smack the answer button hard enough that you’re worried that you’ll break the small device, “Jango?”

“Yeah. Problem solved.” You hear the sound of movement, “I’m on my way back to the ship right now.”

“Are you…what happened? The warehouse blew up!”

“Yeah, it was a trap. I decided to trigger it.”

“You decided-” You trail off, and exhale slowly, “Please don’t ever do that again, I thought you were dead.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Worried, cyar’ika?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice is much softer, “I’ll be back in a bit. Promise.” And then the connection cuts.

This time, when you head to the door you don’t hesitate to unlock and open it. And then you descend the stairs and settle on the bottom step and wait, your mind racing.

You could have lost him.

He could have been killed, because of you.

All of a sudden, all of your worries and hesitations about a relationship, or whatever, with Jango seem much less important.

You lift your head when you hear movement from the forest, and Jango steps out from between several massive bushes. He pauses when he sees you, and then tugs his helmet off.

“That’s not on the ship, cyar’ika.” He chides as he heads towards you.

You scramble to your feet and cross the clearing to him, flinging your arms around his neck as you tackle him. Jango’s helmet falls from his fingers as he’s forced to catch you.

You don’t say anything to his comment, though, as you crash your lips against his. And Jango responds immediately, his arms tightening around you as he slides his tongue against the seam of your lips, and then against your tongue as you part your lips for him.

He breaks the kiss before you do, delight sparkling in those pretty brown eyes of his, “So, all I had to do to get you to jump me is almost die?” Jango asks breathlessly.

“Not funny,” You mumble.

“Not trying to be,” His lips capture yours again, and this time he carries you towards your ship, his hands sliding under your clothing as he kisses you. And then a breathless curse falls from his lips as he pins you against the cool metal of your ship.

“Get down, cyare.” Jango rasps against your lips, and you whine in response.

“Jango-”

“I’m not fucking you for the first time against your ship,” He says against your lips, “You deserve a bed.”

You shiver, but slowly drop your legs to the ground, and Jango takes a step away from you. You fight the urge to step back into his personal space, and instead climb the stairs until you’re back on the ship.

Jango crowds into your personal space as soon as the door shuts, his nimble fingers popping the seals on his armor and dropping the metal to the floor. The second he's not wearing his armor, he’s pressed back against you, his hands gliding down your body while his lips trail down your throat.

“You left your helmet-” You gasp out as he walks you backwards to your bunk.

“It’ll hold.” Jango replies as he rips your shirt off and tosses it to the side, before moving his hands to your hips and pushing your pants down your legs. You kick them over your feet and to the side, just as Jango lowers you to the mattress. “Kriff,” He mumbles as he hastily removes his own clothing and climbs over you, “Wanted you for months. Can’t believe you made me wait-”

You lean up and pull him down into a deep kiss, no longer having the patience for him to keep talking.

He chuckles into the kiss and moves so that he’s kneeling between your legs. “Wrap your legs around me, cyar’ika.” Jango orders, a pleased groan falling from him as you immediately move to obey him. “Gonna make you feel so good,” He breathes out as he grinds his hard length against you, “Going to make you mine, cyar’ika.”

“Please-”

Jango slides his hands down your arms, and catches your hands, before pinning them to the bed next to your head and threading your fingers with his. And then, and only then, does he slowly push in you.

“Keep your eyes on my, cyare,” He murmurs, when it looks like your eyes are going to shut with your pleasure, “Keep looking at me.”

You squeeze his hands, “I will.”

And then Jango starts a painfully slow pace, pulling nearly all the way out, before easing his way back in, making sure that you can feel every single movement. “You’re mine,” He breathes, “All mine. No one else will ever have you.”

His grip tightens around your hands, and you squeeze back reassuringly, “Yours.” You agree through a breathless moan. “All yours.”

#star wars #star wars legends #jango fett x reader #jango x reader #18+ fic #nsft #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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canirove · 4 months

Text

In The Name of Love | Chapter 6

Author's note: Since next Monday is Christmas day, I will be posting the chapter that should be up that day on Wednesday, which means that next week you will have new chapters on Wednesday and Thursday 😊 Also sorry about this chapter being a bit meh and on the short side, but I think I am making up for it on the next one 😁 Also, to those of you who are just reading this and don't follow me, happy holidays and merry christmas to those of you who celebrate! 💜

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

Good luck tonight! Hopefully it won't rain, because those clouds look so bad… (📸) Also look at the sea. Back home it doesn't get like this (📸) The food here is just 🤤 (📸) You have fans who aren't teenagers 😱 (📸) I wonder if they'll think I'm one too (📸)

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"And?"

"Nothing yet" I sigh. "This was a good idea, right?"

"It was" Emma says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze. "Traveling to the other side of the country to watch him play is so romantic!"

"I don't care if it is romantic or not. I just want to explain everything to him and for things to go back to the way they were."

"Who would have thought you would end up missing a teenager's dick, uh?" she laughs.

"I should have brought Silvia with me" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"But sadly, she's too busy with Pau finally being back, so you'll have to deal with me" she smiles.

It's been a month since that stupid engagement party, since Pedri and I had that argument, since I last saw him in person. And I've felt like shit every single day.

I should have been honest with him. I should have opened myself to him, share all my fears. But I couldn't. I was too much of a coward, and because of it, I may have lost the person who managed to finally make me close a chapter of my life. The person that gave me what I needed to finally let go.

But I'm ready now. I'm ready to tell him everything. And that's why Emma and I are here, though her first plan was a bit stalkery.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I just sent him a good luck message before the game and he has left me as read. Again" I sigh.

"At least you know he hasn't blocked you."

"Yeah, I guess. But I can't keep living this, I have to do something."

"Why don't you just show up at his house and don't leave until he listens to you?"

"I can't do that, Emma. He'll end up calling the police."

"Then why don't you go watch him play at the Camp Nou? Maybe his friends can help you corner him somewhere so you can talk."

"That isn't such a bad idea, you know… Though they are going on international break after tonight's game."

"Then let's go watch him play with Spain! You could even wear his shirt, I'm sure he would like that. You aren't allergic to that one, are you?"

"I'm not, no" I laugh. "But I don't know where they are playing and when. And there may not be tickets left."

"Then let's find out" she says, taking out her phone and starting to type.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A couple of hours after that conversation, and mostly thanks to Ferran, we had it all ready. We would be spending the weekend in La Coruña, a city in the West of Spain where the national team is playing, and where, hopefully, I will find a way to convince Pedri to let me explain myself.

"Is it him?" Emma asks when my phone buzzes.

"Oh my God" I gasp. "It's him, he has replied!" I say, my hand shaking.

"What does he say?"

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Val, what is all that?

Are those photos real?

Yep

Are you here?

In La Coruña?

And wearing my shirt? 😳

I am

Wait a second

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"Emma, he's facetiming me."

"Then pick up!"

"How do I look?"

"For the love of God, Valeria. Who cares? Pick up!"

"Ok" I say, taking a deep breath. "Hello" I smile.

"Show me around."

"What?"

"Show me around, Valeria."

"Don't need to be so rude, Pedro" I say, moving so he can see where I am. Emma and I had sat down on a bench not too far away from the stadium to kill time until we can go inside.

"You are here. You… Why?"

"Well, Emma and I had a free weekend and wanted to disconnect from the kids, we saw an ad about the game, we had never been to La Coruña, and we said, why not?" I shrug.

"Let's go disconnect from the kids by watching other kids play" Pedri chuckles.

"Asensio isn't a kid."

"Then why are you wearing my shirt?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"It was the only one left in the shop" I shrug again.

"Sure" he laughs.

"It was yours or Morata's, and you know how I feel about him."

"I do, yes" he laughs again. God, I had missed hearing him laugh. "Anyway, I gotta go, we are leaving the hotel now."

"Ok."

"Thank you for coming to the game."

"Of course" I smile. But he doesn't. He's gone serious again.

"Bye, Valeria."

"Bye" I say before he hangs up.

"That went well, didn't it?" Emma says.

"Did it?" I sigh.

"It did! You had a little moment there, so there still is hope."

"I guess, but he kept calling me Valeria and… Wait" I say when my phone buzzes again.

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Don't forget to send me your good luck text.

It is the last thing I always read before warm up

I won't. I promise 😊

❤️

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"See? There still is hope!" Emma says, grabbing my arm and squeezing it. She's actually hurting me, but I don't care.

Because there still is hope.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez fanfic #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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agendabymooner · 5 months

Text

odds || pg10 fic

“I’m never giving up against all odds.”

pierre gasly x ofc (88rising!singer!ofc)

EXTENSION TO NEWSFLASH (SEQUEL OF) AND LOWKEY (PREQUEL OF)

Summary: Her songs told a story about how her courtship with Pierre Gasly went and ended in a happy note. OR their timing wasn't always right— that was what she thought as she continued to think that their situationship’s downfall would happen sooner or later.

Content warning: Based on Niki’s EP, wanna take this downtown. No specific date is used for the release of her music. Use of explicit language, situationship scenarios, miscommunication, OFC being set up, Pierre being a dry texter, only uses a partner’s name (nothing too personal- just a passing comment), a bit angst but has a happy ending (?), indented texts are lyrics

Note: I’m not sure if my taglist would like to read this but I’m adding them into the list just in case :)) enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

This has got to be a joke. The universe fuckin’ hates my guts. Remindin’ me ‘U’ and ‘I’ don’t spell ‘us.’

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Heeeey!!! My brain is soooo fried today and Brian decided to fuck up my computer. Now I’m just here doing nothing but hope that my dear tech works in the next hour. Sent at 10:21 PM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): How r u??? I hope you’re not training too hard and you’re hydrating :) Sent at 10:25 PM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Good morning, Ens. Have 2 train sadly ttyl ;) Sent at 8:31 AM

Well wasn’t that fucking sad, Ensley huffed out quietly to herself as she wished to throw her phone against the wall. They’ve been in what… two dates?

Well, two in-person dates and three unofficial FaceTime dates with shitty takeouts in front of them. Not that she counted; she could have sworn she did not like him that much.

She wasn’t sure who she was lying to more, though. But just as she continued to deny that she hadn’t looked at her phone every thirty seconds, she was feeling more pathetic.

What was it about men and why did she continue to give them all a chance? All they do was fuck it up and Ensley was going insane at the thought that the cycle of being with the shittiest men ever wasn’t broken.

“All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big… That’s good. Good job Henny.”

“Trying to find where your head is but I’m losing myself in the process— no wait, tryna,” she muttered to herself before scratching out the first word of her chorus.

She thought that songwriting was a way to distract herself from the Pierre fiasco. Everyone said so, as well. They thought that if she kept her head straight she’d be able to think of inspiration and clearly they were right.

Her friends, Brian and Joji, were laughing at the fact that the said inspiration was the same person they tried to distract her from.

Pierre Gasly. The man who continued to travel as the Formula One season went on while Ensley remained in Los Angeles. Pierre was the man that the Indonesian woman had been thinking about day after day, his charming personality filling that empty space in her head after he asked if she’d be more than willing to take their relationship to the next level.

He did warn her about his busy schedule, which Ensley was grateful for. What he hadn’t told her, though, was that he’d eventually drive her insane because of the lack of texts he’d send as time went on— all thanks to his schedule.

The first month of their situationship was great. He managed to call her and asked if she had supper or whatever meal it was she had to eat in her time zone. He’d often eat his food just as she’d munch on whatever she had that day— sharing conversations while they took a break from whatever the fuck they were doing.

Hell, Ensley also managed to take the international railways to Rome to meet with him. They were getting along so well that she cuddled with him in his bed twice.

But in the second month? Fuck, she wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was because it’s the last month of the racing season and everybody’s scrambling to make their way up to the World Driver’s Championship rankings— that included the Frenchman.

She could understand how busy it is for Pierre and she did what she could to not hover around him. But she was missing him terribly— him and his sex jokes and his never ending storytelling. What could she do? Nothing. She didn’t have any form of label but a situationship with him.

“You come see me only when I ask first. When you kiss me— do you wish it were her?”

“—That’s bullshit,” Brian exclaimed as he stood by the oven of Ensley’s open kitchen. Ensley glared at him, and her friend (Brian’s girlfriend) Vanntey smacked him lightly as a warning. Brian gave his girlfriend a questioning look and stated, “Boy Baguette didn’t even kiss her yet! Henny, don’t put that in if this song is about Pierre. That’s just full on delusional.”

“Who says it’s about him?” Vanntey asked with a scoff before telling Ensley, “Henny— your song, not Brian’s. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“At least someone’s sensible enough,” Ensley murmured before turning back to her notepad. Her Twitter notification, one that she intentionally left opened, made a noise as she glanced down at the “related tweet” notification. The post and the responses that came with it were… baffling to say the least.

We share different postal codes Maybe that’s why I never got the memo; She’s the real deal, and I was just a pretty demo.

ensleygaslysoz: y’all— pierre’s ex was at the paddock today 😭😭

peargaslit: nooooo~ YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!!! IM ROOTING FOR HIM AND HENNY!!!

misskikagasly: ok but they were cute as hell b4 tho 🫠 no h8 to ensley but kika was the shit and i think they should get back together

Ensley’s shoulders slumped at the comments. God’s timing was always wrong, and she’s never hated anything more than the fact that she was actually besotted and in love with Pierre Gasly.

And chances are that he was just waffling about taking their relationship to another level. Men lied to Ensley endlessly, and if she didn’t know any better— she would’ve fallen harder than she did with him.

And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn’t matter what my location says. I’m always tryna get to you.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you going to be in London sometime soon? I will be back in Milan and I’d like to stay in with you :) Text me when you get this Sent at 12:31 AM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Can’t. Sorry— Still in the process of producing an EP :) looking forward to chatting soon Sent at 12:32 AM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Likewise. Sent at 2:01 AM

When I'm there, you're not You're here, I'm caught up with my job And your clingy ex comes back a lot Then she leaves and you shoot your shot But there's someone new I've got

The 88rising studio was where she stayed most of the time now. With the record label releasing an album with their artists, Ensley’s time was taken up by her work as she continued to produce four songs with them.

That and her own EP took up her entire schedule, thus furthering her communication line with the Alpine driver.

So much for a good situationship.

“You wrote this song, Hen,” Isaac — one of the songwriters — told her with a shrug, “he lives in Milan, right? Instead of, I mean, Manhattan’s nice, why don’t you put, Milan is nice?”

“They have good sunsets in NY,” she murmured quietly. “Look— let’s not talk about him. He’s got his business— this is mine.”

“Your EP so far shows that you’re writing about him,” Isaac replied. “By the way, you’ve got one more to write if you want to have four tracks.”

“Eventually,” Ensley responded with a wave, her shoulders sagging before her sight moved from the screen of her laptop to the door that swung open.

Brian walked in with a shit-eating grin, he was followed by Jackson Wang who carried, Ensley could’ve sworn, the biggest bouquet that could’ve ever existed. And just as Jackson walked towards her with a huge smile, her eyes scanned the set and the white card that contrasted with it.

Dahlias and daisies. She never even mentioned it to anyone before.

Then she remembered a conversation she had about flower markets. She loved Los Angeles, but she couldn’t help but swoon over those Pinterest boards full of flower markets in Italy.

She tried to romanticize her life in the UK before, but when she flew out to Milan once to see the beauty of it? Nothing could compare to Italy. She remembered telling Pierre that— how she’d kill to have the prettiest flowers in her flat that came straight from the market.

“What kind of flowers do you like, then?” Pierre asked, amused at the sight of her swooning as she continued to squeal at the photo.

“If I were to get my photos taken like this? Ugh,” Ensley grinned from ear to ear, “daisies? There’s just something about daisies that makes me think of I dunno… summer? I love the sun— I’m sure you can understand that. You live in Milan.”

“I do.”

“And what else? Huh… Dahlia!” Ensley exclaimed. “It’s just a nice name, no?”

“I agree,” Pierre said thoughtfully before repeating the word, “dahlia, dahlia, dahlia… It’s a pretty name, indeed.”

À la plus jolie fille, was intricately written on the envelope as her stomach fluttered at the name. He always called her that for whatever reason, and she eventually learned why.

“Pretty girl,” Ensley translated the writing as she thanked Jackson, holding the bouquet before placing it down on the table. Her hand eventually grabbed onto the card and pulled out the letter. She didn’t care about her friends as they watched her expectantly.

Her eyes remained on the letter.

“My Collette,

This is not bought to make up for my absence, but to remind you that you are as cherished as the bright flowers in this bouquet. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma jolie fille.

While I cannot speak to you, I’ll continue to think about you.

XO,

Your Linguini.”

“Your— your Linguini?!” Jackson gasped from behind her, making her turn around as she watched Brian wheeze in laughter.

The glare that she gave the two left Jackson to shut his mouth and Brian to continue his teasing. Regardless of what the singer just watched, Jackson shook himself out of his thoughts and asked, “Are you gonna text him?”

But she already did. Long before Jackson could even comment.

Her eyes scanned on the text message she sent Pierre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t text back a minute or so later.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): They’re the prettiest. Thank you, Remy ❤️ Sent at 3:21 PM.

'Cause I know you've got somebody My friends say I could have anybody now that I'm somebody But I don't care if I'm nobody to you, oh

She sighed, not knowing if it was out of contention or sadness. All she was getting from him so far was mixed messages, with him having his ex in the paddock and sending the flowers.

He seemed to be happy to be around his ex, and she was still nobody to him but some person he wasn’t really in a relationship with.

Maybe she should try to shift her attention away from him. Maybe she wouldn’t think a lot about him that way.

And that was what she did. She stayed in London for a week or so after her other single with 88rising, La La Lost You, was released. She hung out with Will Lenney and his mates.

She found herself sitting between Harry Lewis (or Wroetoshaw for those he didn’t know well) and Becky James. Harry was newly single and everyone tried to set him up with anyone with a pair of boobs; Ensley was sadly the newest target of their interest.

But between the two of them, Ensley and Harry’s “not so friendly” interactions were nothing but banters. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell each other that they’d kiss each other on the mouth but they wouldn’t dare let their jokes go as far as touching each other with a ten-foot pole.

Regardless, everyone tried to root for them and getting too drunk meant trouble. Everyone saw what they wanted to see, immediately pulling their phones out to make a post or more about the two as Ensley and Harry cuddled up in the booth.

“Why do you let the bloody idiot win, Ens?” Harry whined against the ear of the singer, ranting about Pierre as the Guernsey man continued, “I saw the tweets you know? You’re as much of a somebody as he is— don’t let the bloody cunt ruin your life.”

“Too late, Harold,” Ensley slurred, sipping on her third sangria of the night. She and Harry didn’t even notice Becky nor their other friend Callum recording their interaction in the background, for the two of them were busy bitching to each other. “He’s ruined me- as in ruined me the moment I went to the bloody Grand Prix in Singapore. In a good way though!”

“Ruin you in a good way,” Harry scoffed, his hand rubbing her back for comfort as he continued, “You’re writing about him. Your fuckin’ EP is all about him— it’s only reserved for those bastards who broke your heart obviously he’s one of them!”

“No, they’re really not,” Ensley snorted, “my songs are not all about heartbreak nor friends with benefits I fall in love with.”

“Then name one song about loving then.”

I know it's pathetic but I couldn't care less I'd wait until the stars uncross and say yes I'll always try to get you

Silence.

Harry’s drunken state continued to be a factor in his calling out as he raised a brow, “See? You’re a bad fucking liar, Ensley. You love him and you’re yearning— I can see it on your bloody face. So now you’re writing about how much he’s letting you down.”

She pouted in annoyance and slumped against his chest. Pierre didn’t even know how much she yearned for him. At the wrong time, while you’re at it. But she didn’t care.

It’s been nearly a week since they last spoke, and their messages consist of nothing but dry responses and simple check-ins. Was it to ensure that the hope for a successful relationship remains intact or to actually make sure that they still had each other to talk to and that they hadn’t gone and talked to other people? Ensley wasn’t sure.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): What are we? Like… really?

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Whatever you would like us to be. And hello too?

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hi. And really? We kept on saying that we’d be making plans but they never happened. It’s like I dunno. We’re avoiding each other because we’re always busy.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I know I have to make the effort to come by sometimes, but then… How would you even the odds? I really don’t make an excuse when it comes to heading to London just to take the railways and see you.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I’m not even mad. I’m just saying that my time and heart are yours should they be available. Break my heart as much as you’d like but try to even out these odds— without girls trying to waste your time and mine.

The next day she had woken up with an infuriating headache. Thanks to the sangrias she had and Sambuca shots she was handed, she wasn’t able to get in touch with Pierre as early as she could.

She could, however, strangle Will and the rest of their group for posting those cutesy pictures of herself and Harry while the pair were chatting shit about whatever. Everyone now thought that they were seeing each other.

“WroetoSoleil? Harry, I'm begging you to bag her already!!!” Said one tweet.

“This is a sign that the friends-to-lovers trope is real.”

“Pierre, where you at? Ensley’s being won over by W2S now!”

“I still have some faith in Pierre and Ensley, tbh.”

And to be honest, Ensley was still faithful to the two of them too. It’s only a matter of time before she begins to shift to someone else if neither of them makes a move.

Well… she already made hers. It was his game to play now.

She tried to get on with her day after getting too drunk with her friend’s mates. Her flat in London was surprisingly less than dusty despite being untouched for a while. She supposed that’s what happened when she allowed Will and the other lots to occupy her place whilst she lived in LA.

Then her attention diverted to her notes, writing down lyrics as she sipped on her homemade tea.

She hadn’t even realized that she had Pierre muted — out of annoyance — until her phone began to go off. She peered down only to see an unknown number FaceTiming her.

But it said Monaco at the bottom of the number. She could assume that…

“W- oi! Hello!”

Never in my damn favour I don’t want you for later Never was much of a waiter.

She was right. It was Lando and a certain Monegasque. This number was Charles Leclerc’s and she was subjected to some bullshit that they were up to.

“I’m ending the call—“

“Wait- no! Henny, don’t! We have to talk,” Charles started. They weren’t even close yet he called her Henny. Whatever he was trying to say, he was desperate to get it out before she could end her call.

She sat her phone on the coffee table and crossed her arms, watching the two men scramble as they both sat down.

“We heard about what happened with you and Pierre,” Lando started. “Like how you two haven’t spoken properly and all that…?”

Ensley stared back at them, making the two sigh. They wouldn’t be able to get something out of her and so Charles went on, “He saw that picture and video of you and that guy… What's his name— Harry? Yeah, he saw it and he’s basically just… pouting and all that.”

“Long story short, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on between the two of you,” Lando cut off the Monegasque. “I know you’d never date Harry and we all know that Pierre’s not seeing his ex. The two of you right now are misunderstanding each other— just talk, please. Both of you are sulking and we’re all sick of you two being lovesick and shit.”

“It’s not that easy, you bastard,” Ensley swore, flipping off Lando as she grumbled, “Every time I’m available, he isn’t. Whenever I’m not, he’s coming around asking me to travel to Italy as if I have the money to travel with. I’m not as well off as you guys— and clearly, he isn’t making the same effort as me!”

“How? He’s sent you a lot of flowers,” Charles pointed out. Ensley smothered her face in the cushion and screamed before she turned back to look at her screen with a grim smile.

“You’ve obviously no concept of making an effort without using a material, and it shows,” Ensley snarked.

“It’s just… he’s never asked me if he can stay over in my flat in London before,” she sighed, “it’s always me who has to adjust. I do appreciate it but at the same time… what about me? What if I can’t make it there and he’s still available? Will it stay like that? Just me hoping for some miracle that he’d come by? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just tiring having to work hard only to end up with nada.”

Lando and Charles shared a worried look. Clearly, they didn’t understand her side of the story until now. It wasn’t as if she was painted as a bad person— they genuinely didn’t know how she and Pierre spoke and how the duo treated each other.

“I’m just so ready to say, ‘Yes, be my boyfriend like I’m begging’ but he’s not there all the time for me to answer it!” Ensley exclaimed in frustration, crossing her arms in annoyance as she slumped against the couch.

“French boy—“

“I’m Monegasque—“

“Monaco boy, tell your best friend that he’s a piece of shit for making me feel like this—“ Ensley said. “God I just want to see him but at the same time I don’t—!”

“Why?”

“Because I know he wouldn’t even these odds no matter how much he wants to,” Ensley chuckled humourlessly. “I don’t even know if he wants to.”

But I’d wait on you to drink you in

Lando almost glanced in front of them, only nodding along at Ensley’s rants. Meanwhile, Charles stared at Pierre with a raised brow.

The Frenchman sighed silently.

He really didn’t want to mess this chance up, but it was too bad some things didn’t like to go in his favour.

Even the odds, indeed.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hello mon amour, are you still in London? Sent at 8:21 AM.

To Pesky Pierre: Yes… why? Sent at 8:22 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you off to somewhere else today? Sent at 8:22 AM.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I— why are you being so cryptic? But no, I’m just staying in. 8:23 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Okay. See you in half an hour :)

When I'm there you should, I don't know, like, call up your boss Probably take the day off Maybe we could change the odds!

Ensley Zara Soleil was never the one for surprises. She loathed them so bad.

But if surprises came in the form of an Alpine driver often then she was willing to welcome it with open arms. Pierre Gasly stood in front of her flat with a bouquet of dahlias and daisies in hand, his smile brightening her day immediately as Ensley smiled like a fool.

She’s never felt this great over a man for a long time.

“I’m here to even the odds,” Pierre told her with a grin before it fell into a serious expression as he said, “I’m really sorry if I haven’t tried to do it before. I was the one who pursued you first and I should’ve tried harder—“

“Shh…”

“Pardon?” Pierre gave Ensley a puzzled look.

And rather than telling to shush once more, Ensley gave him a wide grin and took the bouquet from his hand. The confused look remained on Pierre’s face for a brief moment as she inhaled the scent of the flowers.

“You’re here now, P,” Ensley told him. “I was wondering what you meant by your text but I’ve been expecting you… for a good while.”

Pierre’s confusion was replaced by a wide smile, pushing his shoulders back as he said, “So… where can I start?”

Ensley smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat as she said, “Come in and have a cuppa. We’ve got a lot of things to catch-up on.”

Don't care how long it takes, My heart is yours to break I'm never giving up against all odds

fin.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

#pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly au #pierre gasly fanfic #pg10 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fic #formula one fluff #formula one fic #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #f1 fanfic #formula one hurt/comfort #formula 1

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tgmsunmontue · 10 days

Text

Once Upon a Time in 1996... 7/7

IceMav TimeLoop. Maverick wakes up to a great day. Then it all turns to shit. Explicit.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pete rolls out of bed, doesn’t bother dwelling on the now over-powering sense of muscle memory wanting to find Tom and sink into the space beside him. He’s used to his day starting apart from him, has come to enjoy the anticipation of seeing him again soon. Has forced himself to learn to enjoy the anticipation, knows he needs to start his day with Carole and Bradley before giving in to his desire to see Tom. He doesn’t know how long it’s been now, he stopped keeping count after one hundred, but he’s got a rough idea that it’s been months. Many months. He’s learnt so much about Bradley and Carole and Tom, but also himself. The monotony and routine of day-to-day life with a family that always terrified him before is now his new normal.

He gets dressed quickly, knows he will be showering before lunch for other reasons if he gets his way. He quickly heads into the kitchen, starts the coffee machine and makes toast for Bradley, puts the bottle of wine away and puts the tissues within easy reach. Then he goes back upstairs and walks down the hall, knocks on Bradley’s door and pushes it open. Bradley is up and dressed but busy reading a book and he looks up guiltily at being caught out. Pete can’t help but smile, wondering what kind of kid feels guilty for being caught reading.

“Hey Bradley. Brought you some breakfast. I need to talk to you…”

He knows now that Bradley has seen letters from the hospital, knows that his mom is sick. He knows it’s cancer. They’ve had the following conversation dozens of times, Bradley isn’t unaware of what his mom is doing today but is definitely an expert in hiding the fact. He is such a risk-averse kid, doesn’t want to rock the boat or upset the adults in his life and he knows he probably worries about being left behind but he knows he can allay those fears almost immediately.

“Hey Mav…”

He sits down on the edge of Bradley’s bed, rubs his hands together and smiles softly, sadly.

“Hey. Wanted to talk to you about something pretty important.”

“Okay. What?”

“Well, you know how your mom is sick, well, I wanted to ask you how you would feel about me adopting you, incase anything happens to her.”

“Oh. She’s really sick huh?”

Pete nods.

“Yeah, she is. I don’t know all the details, but she has an appointment this morning. I know you saw a letter from the hospital and have been waiting for your mom to tell you. But she’s been wanting to protect you from having to worry about all of this.”

“I’m not a kid! She can tell me stuff!”

“Oh Bradley, she knows she can. She just loves you and wants to protect you. But she can’t against this, and that hurts her more than anything else in the world.”

“I just want to be there for her like she’s always been there for me…”

“Yeah, that’s amazing of you Bradley. But I’m pretty sure that’s a hard idea for your mom to accept. I think you wanting to be there for her is amazing though, so even if she says no, I am still so proud of you okay?”

“Oh… thanks Mav.”

“You’re welcome kiddo.”

“And it’s yes by the way. About wanting to be adopted by you. I’d like that. A lot.”

“So would I. I love you kiddo.”

“Love you too Mav…”

He pulls Bradley into a hug and holds him for a good minute or so before loosening his grip and pulling away a bit.

“Right, so she has this hospital appointment and I’m going to try and convince her to take you with her okay? So you can be there for her like you want to be. Afterwards go for a walk along the pier and get an ice-cream. Here, here’s a twenty. You treat your mom okay?”

Bradley nods, and Pete can tell he’s close to tears, wants to tell him it’s okay to cry, because they’ve cried together a lot, and he knows they will in the future if they ever get a tomorrow, but he’s done enough for today, knows Bradley will be okay, feels reassured that things might suck, but he’ll be okay.

“Just… stay in here until I’ve talked to your mom okay?”

“Okay.”

“Read your book.”

That gets him a grin and he ruffles his hair, laughs as Bradley tries to bat his hand away and he closes the door behind him, quickly going and turning the coffee machine on, because this is definitely a conversation that relies heavily on the consumption of coffee. He has his conversation with Carole down to a fine art, a script that runs almost automatically through his head without him even thinking about it. Her response, her easy acceptance of his weird living-hell, it’s both the hardest and easiest conversation of the day.

He goes back upstairs and knocks on her door, knows not to just open it, that she doesn’t want to be caught crying, not yet, not if she’s going to agree to Bradley going with her. She needs to have coffee first. To feel more settled and to have already heard the bad news from him. The fact that he can prepare her, that she can begin to process it and then face the inevitable of telling Bradley.

“Hey Carole, I need to talk to you. I’ll make you a coffee… ”

“I’ll be right there.”

“No rush…”

He knows she’ll rush a little anyway, her mind already thinking about where she needs to go, and he knows it’s partly due to not knowing for certain that she’s hating right now. They’ve talked about it extensively and right now he probably knows how she’s feeling better than she does. She enters the kitchen and he passes her coffee, made perfectly after fuck knows how many days of practice and she takes a sip, clearly waiting for him to talk, seeing as he’s the one who told her not ever ten minutes ago that he wanted to talk. However he waits for her to be halfway through the first cup, glances at the time and he’s ahead of schedule.

“You okay Maverick?”

He laughs under his breath but nods, because despite everything her attentiveness still makes him feel incredibly lucky to count her as one of his closest friends.

“Yeah. I’m… I’m okay. Mostly. Right. So this might sound crazy, but I’ve told you this well over three hundred times now and in none of those have you ever not believed me,” Pete starts, and sure enough her eyes are wide, eyebrows hidden by her fringe but he’s used to this expression now.

“I’m stuck in a time loop. You have a hospital appointment about your cancer and the news is not good. Really not good. Six months, maybe a year. But I think you know that already. We skipped the appointment a good chunk of days. Got drunk a few others. I went with you to the appointment about a hundred times. We’ve discussed how much it sucks every single day…”

She’s finished the cup and he silently pours her a second one, adding the creamer and sugar before handing it back.

“It does suck,” she says, voice catching wetly and he nods silently, leaves her a few beats to think, to let the tears trickle silently, and this is why he has Bradley stay in his room. There had been yelling the one time, Bradley angry and Carole upset. It had only happened the once. He doesn’t like them yelling at each other.

“It does. I wish I could tell you something different.”

She wipes at her eyes, sniffs and he slides in close and wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly.

“What I can tell you is that you can stop worrying about telling Bradley. He already knows. He saw a letter you’d left out. For a little while now Bradley has been going to the appointment with you.”

“What?”

“He already knows you’re sick,” Pete repeats, continuing to hold her. “He’s been waiting for you to tell him.”

He remembers the first time he’d figured out that Bradley already knew, it had assuaged his guilt immediately. He knew Bradley was smart. It had also reminded him that as much as he considered Carole and Bradley his, when he’s away on deployment, they’re a little duo, happily going about their day-to-day lives, always there for each other. It feels right that they’re together through this as well.

“He has a lot of questions, questions the doctor can answer. He’s been reading up. He wants to be there for you like you’re there for him all those times while he was growing up.”

“He’s still growing up Maverick.”

“Yeah, he is and he’s turning out to be this amazing caring young man who wants to be there for his mom when she receives this terrible news. You’ve raised such an amazing person Carole…”

“We’ve raised an amazing person you mean…”

“I don’t feel like I can take the credit, but I won’t argue with you. He wants to be there with you. For you.”

She starts crying again and this is fine, this is how it’s gone before, when she realizes that Bradley is mature enough to make his own decisions and agrees to let him go with her. He just needs to tell her one more thing.

“Also, I asked him if he’d mind if I adopted him. He said yes. We’ll sort out a lawyer if we ever get out of this time loop. Wasn’t a fan of the one time we actually made it to a lawyer.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that he comes with me?” Carole asks, and he’s glad that today that is her question, rather than what happened with the lawyer.

“More than okay. He already knows and it’s going to be scary for him, but it’ll be scary for you too and you’ll be there together. It always works out well at the end of the day…”

“What about you though, you don’t want to come with us as well?”

Pete licks his lips and pulls away, because this is always the kicker, the bit that makes her tip over into knowing he’s actually in a time loop and he’s come to enjoy her delighted surprise rather than be insulted by it. He was a little blind before, he can admit it now.

“No. I have another conversation I need to go have. This last thing, which I think is always what makes you realize I’m serious. I know Ice is in love with me. That he’s been in love with me for years. And god, I love him so much it’s ridiculous.”

“Oh my god! You’re going to go and talk to him?”

Like every single other day Carole is overjoyed that he’s realized he’s in love with Tom. That his happiness ranks above her own issues tells him how much she loves him and he grabs her and hugs her, his grin wild as he just lets happiness wash through him.

“Hey Carole, I love you.”

“Love you too Maverick… of my god. Iceman is going to be blindsided. Does he know how you feel? Of course not, you haven’t told him. Oh my god I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you tell him!”

“Uh… you wouldn’t want to be a fly on the wall.”

“Why not?”

“You want a show with your declarations of love?”

“Oh really now? How many times has that happened?”

Pete blushes, because he’s had plenty of sex, nearly daily, sometimes multiple times a day, and Carole is laughing so much she has tears in her eyes but they’re tears of happiness and Pete doesn’t care if she’s laughing at him.

“Oh Maverick, that’s amazing. I needed some good news. How does he take it? Well obviously, if there’s a show.”

“Took a few times to get there, learnt about his secret stash of vodka. Drank his bottle of vodka. He… he’s surprised but happy,” Pete decides on, because that’s a pretty tidy summary of his repeated days with Tom. They haven’t progressed past that honeymoon realization, even if he has, his own emotions settling into a bone-deep assuredness that he loves Tom with every fiber of himself.

“So, Bradley and I go to the hospital and you go off and have sex with Iceman. I know what I’d rather be doing…”

Pete coughs, coffee catching in his mouth and Carole is laughing again, eyes crinkled shut and he can’t help but join in.

“We’ll come around this afternoon.”

“Don’t drag yourselves out of bed on my part,” Carole says, still sniggering with amusement and Pete shakes his head.

“He’ll want to see you and Bradley.”

“Okay, well then. I guess I better get going. Has Bradley had breakfast?”

“I took him toast.”

“Of course you did.”

“He’s reading, told him to stay in his room until I came and got him.”

“Thanks Maverick.”

He shrugs, because he feels like he’s only getting everything right because he’s had so much practice at it.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Of course.”

He leaves them to it then, doesn’t need to hang around to watch them leave. He eyes the grass as he walks to his bike and he knows it’s not any longer than it was yesterday but it still annoys him. He can’t rush to Tom’s, he’s out running and he’s learnt to time talking with Ice for after his morning run. Tom has too much nervous energy that tips over into annoyance if he hasn’t gone for a run, although there were a couple of times when Pete managed to distract him with sex, but the best days are the ones where he’s waiting for Tom and gets to see him run toward him dripping sweat. He’s quite a fan of the sight.

Sure enough there’s no answer at the front door, which he knew would be the case but he also can’t stop the habit of checking just in case. He settles on the porch stairs, stretches out his legs and leans back, knows that the pose is a little provocative which is exactly why he does it, times it for just as he spies Ice running toward him and he tips his head back, eyes closed and soaks up the warmth from the early morning sun. He hears the rhythm of Tom’s pace falter as he sees him and he cracks an eye open, smiles slowly and resists the urge to just go over and rub himself all over him.

“Hey Tom…”

He loves the surprised delight on his face when he hears Pete call him Tom.

“Maverick… what are you doing here?”

“Well, I need to talk to you,” Pete starts, because he’s learnt after all the times of doing this, that fast and to the point are best. Ripping off a band aid. In all the times he’s done this Ice has never reacted violently, sometimes he’s gotten angry, thinking Pete was making fun of him, but he’s learnt exactly how to do this now. He stands up, the one step giving him the height advantage and with it he can see the way Tom’s eyes track over his facial features, dipping to his mouth and he licks his lips automatically.

“What do you need to talk about so urgently that it couldn’t wait until tonight?”

“Well, I want to spend more of today with you than just tonight. Also, what I really need to tell you is that I love you. So much. And for a long time. I don’t even know how long any more,” Pete says, because he knows he’s over three hundred days, but has given up trying to keep track for his own sanity. “I know you’ve been making yourself sick, smoking too many cigarettes, thinking about telling me. How I might react. Well. It’s better than your best-case scenario, because I love you, and I want to be with you, and I know it’s not going to be easy. Sometimes you’re going to want to kill me. I’m going to drive you crazy. But I’ll always love you…”

He holds his breath then, because there’s four different ways that Tom usually reacts. Disbelief; have you been drinking? Shock; oh my god, you can’t be serious. Anger; don’t make fun of me Pete. I think you should leave. And his personal favorite, terrified hope, which is never words but actions, trembling hands reaching out to touch him. He takes one in his hand now, tugs him up the steps and nods toward the door and watches as Tom’s hand shakes a little as he slides the key in.

“Come on, let’s talk some more…”

Of course, once the door is shut he doesn’t let a single moment pass, simply lets himself give in and presses himself against Tom and leans up to kiss him, lets his hands rest on his waist, but he doesn’t make any effort to hide his attraction or the fact that he very clearly wants to be there, here, with him. He also knows it stops Tom from doubting him, from overthinking his declaration.

“Maverick… what…”

“Today has been a very long day…”

“It’s not even nine-thirty.”

He laughs, kisses him again, doesn’t want to ruin this time with Tom yet, knows he can and will tell him later about Carole, but they have plenty of time and he also knows that Tom is going to want a shower, wants to wash off the sweat of his run and Pete wants to help him. The talk about the time loop goes a whole lot better when Ice is one orgasm in, like he takes Pete’s declaration of being in love with him much better after he’s been for a run. It’s been a lot of trial and error, but he’s learnt these things now.

“Come on… shower.”

“What?”

“You want a shower but are feeling like a bad host because you don’t want to leave me alone. Solution is to have me shower with you…”

Every.

Single.

Time.

He grins at the expression on Tom’s face, like Pete has spoken a foreign language that he feels like he should know but still can’t understand. He helps the translation by walking toward the shower and stripping off his clothes as he goes, looking over his shoulder with an expectant look and sure enough Tom catches on and scrambles to follow. He leaves a trail of clothes, can sense when Tom enters his personal space because he can feel the heat of his body, still elevated from his run. He turns the shower on and grabs towels, before turning to face Tom who is still standing there, fully dressed and watching him silently.

“I know this seems fast for you… just, trust me?”

He knows Tom trusts him with his life, but every day he gets to watch this decision as Tom trusts him with something more. His heart, his vulnerability, his fears… Pete will do his utmost to never make that trust falter, not in this. In them. He waits for the short sharp nod of Tom’s head and then tugs at his t-shirt. Tom gets the message and immediately strips it off over his head, his hands hesitating briefly at the band of his shorts but Pete knows this now, strips off his own underwear, unafraid of going first.

He lets his fingers ghost over Tom’s skin, damp with sweat and the raising humidity of the bathroom and he pushes him toward the shower, but not before placing a soft kiss to the edge of his mouth, pleased when he feels the twitch of a smile and he gives him a few seconds, just enjoys the view before Tom realizes he’s being watched and reaches for him, hand still trembling slightly and Pete squeezes it reassuringly. Then he’s under the spray of water and he sinks to his knees, smirks at the expression on Tom’s face which is sheer wonder and disbelief. He knows that this is one of Tom’s fantasies, and okay, it’s not the locker room, but he’s still on his knees in the shower.

“Oh my god… Pete.”

He bites his lip as he grins, meeting Tom’s eyes. He runs his hands over Tom’s thighs, coarse hair under the pads of his fingers tips and he runs his fingers over the swelling flesh of Tom’s cock before he places a gentle kiss to the head. Smirks when he feels Tom’s hips jerk with little to no control and he knows better than to wish to be able to do this every day for the rest of his life, considering his current issues, but god he has hopes for his future.

He knows this is going to be over quickly. He knows exactly how to get Tom off as quickly and efficiently as possible, and while he’s not aiming for a personal best today, he’s not going to waste time either. Round two is always much more enjoyable. He licks his lips and lets a little of the shower water gather in his mouth before he then sucks Tom’s cock into his mouth, three small sucks in quick succession, head bobbing as he feels Tom getting harder, feels the muscles under his fingers flex in an effort to not buck wildly.

He massages his thighs, imitates a rolling motion and Tom latches on, his body slowly rocking forward and back and Pete relaxes, lets him slowly and shallowly fuck his mouth, lets one of his hands drift to Tom’s balls, savors the muffled groan Tom makes around the fleshy part of his hand that he’s shoved in his mouth. He’ll have time to make Tom loud later, make him forget to hold himself back. He presses a knuckle to his perinium, massages it, gently, sucks at Tom’s cock as he rocks into his mouth and Pete moans, his own erection heavy between his thighs but so far neglected. He can wait. His body might not think he’s gotten off, but his mind knows and if he can holdout it will be amazing. There’s nothing but the sound of water, gasp-y breaths and skin moving slickly on skin, moan and groans echoing around the confined space, his own name punched out of Tom every so often and then he feels every muscle under his hands tense up and then he’s swallowing, Tom coming with a shudder and a painful sounding whine, his fingers resting softly on Pete’s head before pulling back.

Pete stands, his knees and jaw both aching but in the best ways and he swallows a mouthful of shower water and then pulls Tom down into a kiss, knows Tom’s brain is still throwing up disbelief with every second thought.

“Love you,” Pete says, knowing Tom needs to hear it again, needs to know that this isn’t just something sexual.

“I… I love you too. I. You… you’re really good at that.”

“Mmm. Come on. Finish washing yourself. I need to get clean as well, then I want to get you into bed.”

He watches as Tom’s Adam’s apple works soundlessly and he wraps his arms around Tom’s waist, presses a kiss to his bicep and presses his erection against his thigh. Tom’s hand goes to it, wraps around it tentatively and Pete’s reminded of how inexperienced Tom is now, compared to him with his hundreds of days’ worth of experience.

“No rush, but I want you to fuck me.”

Tom makes an inarticulate sound and Pete ducks his face to hide a grin, because he knows what he wants and he knows now how easy Tom is for him, that he doesn’t even have to really ask before Tom will give him anything within his power. He can’t believe he missed it for so many years. They make out, slow and exploratory and he let’s Tom take his time, savors the sensations the gentle finger elicit and wonders if he’ll get to have Tom fuck him with familiarity, be a little rough with him, not be so gentle like Pete is a gentle precious gift. Not that he’s complaining, but he wants that. Wants everything.

They move to the bedroom and he makes Tom lie down in the middle of the bed, pretty much lies on top of him like a weird body-shaped blanket and continues to run his hands over him, rocks his body against him and lets him feel how turned on he is, knows he finds it reassuring and he’ll tell him later that it’s all because of him. That Pete wouldn’t be like this with anyone else, not anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Pete asks, because there’s a couple of variable answers to this question as well, none of them bad though, nothing he can’t course-correct.

“Good… so good.”

“Good. Want to tell you something. It’s not as important as me telling you I love you, but there are a couple of things which are pretty significant, and one is definitely tied to the fact that I know you love me and have done for a long time. And that you keep a bottle of vodka in your freezer for when you just can’t bear it anymore…”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is where I need you to trust me. I’m in a time loop and am stuck in this day and have been for a very long time.”

He’s straddling Tom’s thighs, hands resting on his chest, staring down at him and Pete knows his expression is deadly serious, has to be if Tom is going to believe him.

“A long day. You said it had been a very long day.”

“Yeah. The first few days were a bit messy, I was dealing with something else and didn’t take your coming out with quite the grace I would have liked. Plus you never knew about me sleeping with men as well as women.”

“Maverick…”

“Sorry, I’m usually better at this part. I’m in a time loop and every day I come over here and get to tell you that I love you, that I feel the same way about you. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before, but I see it now…”

“A time loop…”

“Yep.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Pete grins then, because this is one of his favorite bits and he slides his body against Tom’s, quirks an eyebrow.

“Because you’ve told me all your fantasies. Wasn’t a coincidence that I gave you a blowjob in the shower. And I know you want to spank me next time I do something stupid. I know who you’ve had sex with… hundreds of days with you and I want hundreds more.”

He would of course like hundreds of different ones, but he’s not going to bring that into their conversation right now, wants Tom to hear and realize the truth of what he’s saying.

“Is that why you’re…”

“So good in bed? Well, I probably know your body better than I know my own now.”

“How…”

“I have no idea. But one time I said I felt bad that I got to remember all our firsts and you just said I was racking up the flight hours and could show you all the tricks…”

Tom quirks an eyebrow.

“That does sound like me.”

Pete grins and leans down to kiss him, feels one of Tom’s hands grasp an ass cheek and squeeze and he knows they’re going to be alright. For today.

In the beginning he’d mixed it up every time they had sex, knowing that he’d get to start afresh, just making sure it was always good for both of them in case tomorrow did arrive. There have been some truly hilarious moments together, and some not great awkward moments because sex is messy and bodies can be inconvenient things. However his favorite is riding Tom, watching his face as he pushes into Pete for the first time.

“Oh my god you feel good… Gorgeous.”

“Lots of practice. With you.”

“Think that’s a good thing, don’t like the idea of you with anyone else.”

Pete smirks, because that isn’t a surprise either, Tom wanting to lay claim and ensure Pete knows it. Tom’s hands won’t stop moving, touching everywhere they can reach and Pete leans down so they can kiss easily and enjoys the shift of Tom’s body under him, cock in him and he groans appreciatively. Rocks his hips a little to repeat the motion and yeah, feels good.

“You like this?”

“Yeah. Yeah I like it. So do you by the way…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You look beautiful stretched around my dick.”

Tom’s hips jerk then, and he presses into it, can’t help the grin, nips at the sensitive skin of Tom’s throat and kisses him again before sitting back up and raising off Tom’s cock before sinking back down, feeling smug at the broken sounds Tom makes.

“Fuck… Pete.”

“Yeah, come on. Want to hear you…”

He’s been hard or semi-hard for over an hour, his body reaching a level of arousal where it just simmers away while he waits for Tom. His delayed gratification is worth waiting for every time, something he’d never thought was worthwhile before. Now the anticipation just winds him tighter and higher and the sounds their bodies are making, adding to it all. Tom is panting, his eyes not leaving Pete’s body, tracking his facial expressions, but sliding down his body to his cock. His hands are scrambling for the lube, then a cool slick hand is wrapped around his own dick, and he lets out a shout.

“Pete… come on Pete.”

His thighs are burning, knees tender from kneeling on the hard tiles, his stomach tense with curled-tight pleasure aching to be released. His entire body feels electrified, alight with energy but tinged with a side of pain which he knows how to ignore. Their bodies are shifting against each other, both chasing their own release and he wraps his hand around Tom’s, encourages his hand to go harder, faster and then he’s coming, breath punched out of him and his eyes squeeze shut despite him willing himself to keep them open so he can watch Tom.

He can watch him now though, mouth fallen open, eyes almost black with how wide his pupils are blown and he doesn’t even resist the urge to reach for his mouth with a couple of his fingers, a little come on them and then Tom is sucking them into his mouth, fingers of both hands suddenly gripping so tightly to Pete’s thighs he’s going to have bruises tomorrow. If he gets tomorrow. He pushes the thought away and enjoys the moment, leans down again for a kiss, ignores the cooling come now being smeared between them, swallows Tom’s whimper with his own mouth as his body tightens and Tom comes, body shaking.

Pete lets him enjoy the afterglow for a few minutes, but reaches for the condom as Tom’s cock softens and slips out and he kisses him through it all, doesn’t let the body contact break. Then he bullies Tom into having another shower, ignores his grumbling about wasting water and Pete grumbles back that showering together will actually save water, which always makes him flush with pleasure and Pete knows he’s thinking about the blowjob.

He still has to tell Tom about Carole, and he doesn’t want to tell him in bed, or in the shower, not with the memories he wants those places to have for them, so he tells Tom he wants a coffee, maybe a snack to keep his energy up which gets him an eyeroll but it’s affectionate and when he kisses Tom on the cheek he delights in the shy surprise. Once they’re seated at the table, no romantic dinner evidence in sight he rests his feet alongside Tom’s.

“So there’s still something else I need to tell you.”

“Something else?” Tom asks, expression on his face disbelieving and he wishes he didn’t have to do this part, but the few times he’s not told Tom he’d simply felt physically sick about keeping it from him.

“Yeah. Not good news this time. Carole is sick. Cancer. She has six months, maybe a year.”

“What? Where is she?”

“At the hospital.”

“You let her go alone?”

“She’s not alone. Bradley is with her. They’re… she knows about the time loop as well. I told her what the doctor is going to say, so she’s prepared for it. Bradley has lots of questions though, and he so desperately wants to be there with her. They’re okay. Trust me. She knows where I am.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m here with her blessing. She wants us to be happy…” Pete says, remembering her chortling laughter from that morning. “Also I’m going to adopt Bradley.”

“Oh my god… is there anything else?”

Pete huffs then, realizing adopting Bradley is probably another piece of news he should maybe break a bit softer, although Tom doesn’t seem too surprised by it.

“No. Nothing else. Just…” he glances at his watch. “Come on, we have an ice cream date…”

“We do?”

“Yeah…”

He hasn’t done this before, not with Tom as well, but he knows Carole and Bradley go for a walk along the pier and get ice cream after they visit the hospital. Some days after his morning with Tom he’d joined them, leaving Tom to process everything. Today though he wants Tom to come with him, not ready to say goodbye. Hopefully they can catch them and the four of them can do something together, rather than just the usual dinner which has happened so many nights instead.

He lets Tom drive them, spies Carole’s little Honda Civic and points it out, Tom parking not far away. They don’t hold hands as they walk, he learnt the hard way that is a step too far for Tom, too much considering he isn’t in this loop with the sure feeling that there are no consequences to his actions out in public. But he whispers in his ear that he wishes they could and the shy smile he gets back makes him feel warm all over, and the drag of warm fingers over the back of his hand add to that.

Bradley sees them first, his happy yell at seeing Tom after getting back from his deployment reminding Pete that he’s actually been away for months, even if Pete feels like Tom’s been back longer. Bradley tries to convince them he should be allowed more ice cream, but Carole refuses. She’s smiling, even though her eyes are a little red. Tom gives her a bone-crushing hug and Pete distracts Bradley with some boat watching while Carole and Tom quietly murmur to each other, no doubt discussing either the time loop, cancer or the fact that they collectively think he’s finally lost his mind.

Most days he’s either stayed with Tom, or just gone home and waited for Carole and Bradley. For a very long time the days have ended with the four of them having dinner together, although what they eat changes. Tom has always sought him out when he’s left him alone, although some days it’s only an hour while other days it is several hours before he turns up on Pete’s doorstep. Today though he doesn’t want their time together to end and they’re almost back at their cars, so he suggests they get a late lunch before heading to the zoo. Bradley is enthusiastic, suggesting a whole list of potential lunch places.

“The zoo?” Tom asks, leaning against his car.

“Maybe I don’t want our date to end.”

“Our first date has Carole and Bradley tagging along?”

“Our first date today does, but don’t worry, you’ll have me all to yourself later.”

“Mmm. Good to know,” Tom says, tone soft but expression completely serious and Pete lets the wash of anticipation flow through him.

Lunch is easy, a diner half-way to the zoo which apparently does great milkshakes and Bradley is talking animatedly about his plans for summer and the conversation between them all is comfortable and relaxed. Tom lets his ankles rest against Pete’s, lets their hands brush and thighs press against each other in the booth. It’s not holding hands and screaming from the rooftops but it’s more than enough compared to the nothing he had.

They spend over three hours at the zoo. Pete buys four disposable cameras, gives one to each of them and keeps one for himself. Informs them they’re documenting everything from then on and he gives Carole a kiss on the cheek as she smiles at him, eyes almost brimming over with tears and he tries to be positive; the idea that taking photos that won’t even exist on the negatives in twenty-four hours isn’t a heart-breaking thought.

They get back to the house and it’s been an amazing afternoon, full of laughter and love and he thinks he will try and do this again tomorrow, the novelty of it still there, the feeling of rightness even more so. Still wishes he could get the photos developed and keep them, knows they’ll be gone by the time he wakes up tomorrow. Carole and Tom are discussing making dinner and he eyes the grass. Remembers his first couple of days, when he cut the grass and it’s been bugging him today, more than it has other days so he decides to give in and cut it, muttering under his breath about needing to cut the grass and Tom simply shrugs.

“Getting to watch you get all hot and sweaty while you carry out yard work. Hard life but I think I’ll manage…”

Pete wasn’t expecting that and he laughs.

“God I love you.”

Tom blushes and Pete gives him a quick kiss, grips his hand before he pulls away to go and fetch the lawn mower from the garden shed. It’s not a large lawn by any stretch, but if he’s going to do the job, he’s going to do it properly so he does the edges with the trimmer as well. Doing it late afternoon is definitely hotter work than it is first thing in the morning. He tidies everything away and goes back inside and he’s definitely hot and sticky and now in need of a third shower and says as much, excusing himself for the upstairs bathroom and ignoring Carole’s snort. He doesn’t expect Tom to follow him, but he does and he’s being pushed against the bathroom door, the shower not even running warm yet and Tom is stripping his clothes off.

“My turn to clean the sweat off you hmm?”

“Pretty sure I didn’t lick you clean…”

“Don’t ruin my fun.”

He mimes zipping his mouth shut, although the effect is likely ruined when his mouth immediately drops open as Tom curls a hand around his cock and he jerks into it, his breath punching out of him in surprise.

“God you’re gorgeous…” Tom says, voice quiet and whispered into his ear and Pete can’t help the high-pitched whine he lets out. “Got to be quiet.”

… … …

Carole generously gives them an hour before she’s yelling for them, telling them dinner’s ready and as she places food on the table she raises an eyebrow.

“You’re on dinner tomorrow night. Regardless of how that tomorrow shapes up. I’ll know.”

Pete snorts, because neither Carole or Tom have remembered anything from any previous days, but he nods and promises to make dinner tomorrow night. He usually orders pizza on the nights he’s meant to cook, but he has to admit to himself that he’s a bit sick of pizza. They sit and eat, similar to lunch, feet and ankles touching beneath the table, although in the privacy of home Tom lets his hand rest right beside his. They listen to Bradley talk about the book he’s reading, Tom’s deployment, things Carole wants to do, which is bittersweet, but it also feels right.

He and Carole are doing the dishes together, Tom and Bradley now discussing something else related to the relative speed of land mammals versus aquatic mammals and he’s not worried about being a solo-parent to Bradley, because he won’t be. He’s going to have Tom there if it ever does happen.

“Good day?” Carole asks, bumping her hip against his and he smiles.

“Yeah, definitely one of the best.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. You seem happy.”

“Yeah. Yeah I am,” Pete says, accepting the truth of it. He’s had good days before, some of them better than this one, many a lot worse. But today is definitely in the top ten

… … …

“Is it okay if I stay?” Tom asks, his hand resting softly on his hip and Pete presses into it, needs to feel the warmth and strength of his hands on him.

“I’d love to wake up with you tomorrow morning. Of course you can stay.”

It’s not the first time Tom has stayed over, and while he usually sleeps in his underwear and a t-shirt because he gets cold alone he knows he will be plenty warm enough with Tom in bed with him. He doesn’t even have to worry about waking up cold, because he’ll wake up and magically be dressed again. They kiss softly, mouths cool and minty-tasting and he relaxes into it.

“That will never get old…”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

He feels the soft kiss to his forehead as he drifts off to sleep.

… … ..

He wakes up.

Alone.

Tom isn’t there and yesterday had felt… right.

Not perfect, because no day can ever be that, but it had felt right, and good, and okay, if he can make today feel like that again then he’ll count it as a win.

He rolls over, kicks the blankets off and stops, looks down at his chest, his thighs.

He’s still naked.

There are bruises on his thighs.

He’s never woken up naked before.

He sucks in a sudden panicked breath and stumbles to standing, then his bedroom door is opening and Tom is stepping inside, closing it quietly behind him and Pete reaches a hand for him.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here… where did you think I was? Do you not want me here?”

“You’re here,” Pete repeats, and his breath catches, eyes sting and then he’s crying, unable to breathe in deep enough and Tom has scooped him up into his arms, is rocking him back and forth while Pete is pretty sure he’s going to pass out and they both ease down into the bed. Tom is running his fingers through his hair, mouth near his ear, voice quiet.

“Yeah… I’m here. It’s Saturday.”

He curls his fingers into the cloth of Tom’s t-shirt, unwilling to let go for fear of him going somewhere else, of not having this anchor to this new day. He is in his bed, in his bedroom, in his home with Carole and Bradley but it’s the next day. His brain can’t compute it, that he is somehow no longer trapped repeating the same day over and over again. He doesn’t know what he can do that might help convince himself that it is indeed the next day.

“The photos… can you get the photos developed?”

“Sure we can Pete, just… it’s not even seven. Nothing will be open yet. But I’ll find a place that can do them in an hour.”

“We’ll go together,” Pete says, gripping Tom’s hand and he nods.

“Together. Jesus Pete… are you okay?”

“No… I… do you remember yesterday?”

He feels shaky and knows it’s the shock of it being over, that he is finally getting all his tomorrows handed back to him and he can’t believe he gets to have them all, that he gets to spend them with Tom, watch Bradley grow up, make as many happy memories as possible with Carole before they have to say goodbye. But also if they don’t remember yesterday he’s certain his heart is going to break.

“Yeah… I remember yesterday. Every amazing, unbelievable, crazy second of it.”

He lets out a wet sob, the relief almost unbearable and then Tom is kissing him, sweet and gentle and Pete feels himself melt into it, knowing that Tom remembers, and is here, is kissing him. He pulls back.

“I love you.”

“I remember. I love you too. I’m not going anywhere. Was planning on spending the entire weekend with you anyway.”

“There will be a lot more sex then you planned.”

“I’m okay with that.”

… … ��

He’s scared, he realizes. Doesn’t want to fall asleep in case he once again wakes up repeating the day. Stuck in a different time loop.

“It’s okay Pete. I’ll be here when you wake up regardless.”

… … …

It’s another tomorrow.

He gets his happily ever after, after all.

THE END

#icemav #Once Upon a Time in 1996...#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #Top Gun fanfiction

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grrw--boy · 10 months

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•Sweat dreams•

Morpheus takes care of his sleepless lover♡ (morpheus x gn!reader)

Prompt: so many things got pilled up so you're unable to sleep properly for the last days, and morpheus decides it has been enough.

Tw: anxiety, trauma(?, fluff, comfort.

Its has been a hell of a month, maybe even a hell of years.

You'd haved never had a peacefull life, but lately life seems harder than ever, days feel longer and even more tiring, that not even the soft carress of my lover seems to erase the frown on my face.

Morpheus, dream, my love, he has always helped me feel normal, calm, wanted. So i cant help but feel guilty of being so distant from him lately, knowing full well he always tries to help me in any way he can.

But i cant really help it, can't i?

Work has been anything but gentle, with the amount of late doing work i have, im almost restless, not really taking breaks ethier.

Morpheus was anxious, scared even, he knew your work was tiring but this looks extreme.

Its been days since he saw you in your dreams before youd woken up a few hours later, and even in your own dreams you looked exhausted with dark eyebags and a marked scowl on your pretty face

So he had enough

Everyone has bad days so he though youll be okay in a few days, but it has been weeks, so he decided to visit you when he finally had time to. As this not only worried your fisical state but your mental state too.

He remebers years ago when youll end breaking down in his arms, telling him how you couldnt go on like this in tears.

He'd never wish to see you so sadly lonely again, it would personaly pain him too much.

So after he had remotily finished his work he was running to see you.

You where comsuded by another work fit at 3 am when you heard a knock to your aparment door, in confusion of who might be visiting, you shouted a wait to the door while stoping your work and rushing to the door*

"Who is it?" You move your hair to look more presentable trough your stress.

"Its me dear,-" at hearing his voice after so much time you open the door without second thougth, not letting him finish his phrase, seeing your certain tall, blue eyed lover.

"-morpheus." He chuckles at your eageress to see him, but quickly noticed your tired look, unsurpsingly.

"My dea-" "morpheus!, what are you doing here?, so late... is everything alright?" Your voice quickly changes to worry while you question the reason of his visit.

"No, no, dear, everything its okay i just..." he sighes before saying "missed you, we havent seen eachother in a few weeks and i have noticed you havent being coming to the dreaming a lot ethier" he finishes while coming inside as you opened the door more for him to come in.

"Yes i- i have been busy lately, im sorry love, i think i didnt realise we havent seen eachothee in that much..."

"Theres nothing to be sorry about my dear, i know you're stressed, i want to help you" he notices the amount of work in your desk "and its quite late too, you need rest, and love. come on to bed now" he holds your arm to the bedroom.

"B-but morpheus! Theres to much to fini-" "no, to bed now, tomorrow youll finish your chores, when you're well rested"

You sigh giving up, as you cant convice the dream lord of anything especially about your care, and because the offer didnt sound so bad.

Morpheus gides you into bed before turning of the lights in the office, going to laid with you and give you your well needed rest. He goes to hold you as you get more comfortable next to him, already feeling sleep taking over you while feeling dream kissing your forehead and rubbing your head as you cuddle with him.

Before you knew it you were magicly falling asleep in your lovers embrace, feeling some beat of calmness in a long time, before hearing some soft whispers of your lover, knowing youll get some enticing dreams tonight

"Sleep well my love, ill see you in a moment".

#x male reader #morpheus x male reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus sandman #the sandman #dream of the endless #dream x male reader #dream x reader #x male reader fluff #this was longer than expected #morpheus x reader comfort #sandman x male reader #gay #fem aligned dni

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simpcityy · 19 days

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Home is Where the Heart is Pt.1 (Rolan X Tiefling! Female! Reader)

Summary: After being exiled from Elturel, losing your mother and much more, you've been feeling overwhelmed and having no place to call home until your friendship with a certain Tiefling Wizard starts to bloom. Slow burn romance series.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), use of female pronouns, She/Her, violence, SPOILERS FOR ACT ONE IN THE GROVE!!! Child violence-ish uhhh....I think that is all, let me know if I missed something.

Authors Note: The Poll has spoken! It was a battle, Astarion would reach up to Rolan only for Rolan to get more votes and get ahead of the game but Rolan has won! I hope you enjoy it, this will be a slow burn romance. Chapter 1 and up to 4 will be boring and slow but once we reach the Shadow Lands, the action and feelings will start! Please leave a like and Reblog if you enjoyed it! I am always happy to start a taglist since I have two series out now. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE 573 followers! Simp City population is growing!

All you remember is the chaos happening in Elturel. The terrible event that every Tiefling remembers painfully, The Fall of Elturel. The exile of the Elturel tieflings population, your mother sadly was caught up in the chaos. All you remember was holding her hand tightly, guiding other tieflings leaving Elturel meanwhile your father stayed behind to make sure no one was left behind and suddenly she was gone. You don’t understand why the tieflings were being blamed, this was all unfair to you and everyone around you. After escaping, the first night was dreadful. Making a small camp in the middle of nowhere, exposed to danger. Everyone was scared, not able to have a wink of sleep. Walking to one of the campfires, you sat down looking at the fire dance. Rolan, who's been watching you from a distance, wonders how you are feeling, you just witnessed your mother's death. Zevlor was too busy with looking after the group, making sure you stay alive and dealing with the death of his wife all in one. Rolan slowly walks over as Cal and Lia usher him to check on you. You two were good friends, well Cal and Lia know more as Rolan confides in Cal meanwhile you confide in Lia. Being siblings, they share information with each other.

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you look up seeing a worried Rolan. “How are you holding…” He asked slowly, sitting next to you, but kept his distance, not knowing what to do. You sigh and watch the fire burning the food slowly, “I don’t know…I…you can say I’m in shock…I…refuse to believe she’s gone…” You whispered. “ I want to wake up and see that all this is a nightmare that I will wake up to.” You shake your head. Rolan frowns a bit, noticing how your brows crease from how overwhelmed you are. “I hate to be that kind of person but…it happened…we all lost everything…our home…trust of others…our…family and peers that didn’t make it…” He slowly rubs your back gaining the confidence to comfort you. “Don’t remind me.” You whisper getting up wanting to be alone. Rolan only watches as you walk away and into the arms of your father as he finally has time to settle down and grieve with you.

That was months ago, you found a temporary place in the Grove with some kind druids but once again it all came crashing down. Since Halsin has been missing, Kagha decided to let your father know they have to leave before the rite of thorns is completed. “This is unfair!” You retort to your father inside the cave once the door was shut behind from prying ears. “Halsin said we were welcomed, don’t you find it odd that he was captured? An Archdruid?” You sigh, sitting on the wooden stool. Zevlor only looks at you, “ I know…but for the safety of our people…we have to move out and push to Baldur’s Gate. I know this brings memories…of your mother.” He began to hold your hand. “But we need to stay strong and bring them to safety…they look up to us to protect them.” He kisses your forehead. “You…they look up to you.” Looking away, you push your hair away from your face, careful of your horns. “I’m sorry…I’m just stressing you out more.” You felt bad, here you are complaining to him when you know he has all these responsibilities. “I’ll let you be and hey dad” Standing up, you walk over to the stone door, “You can always lean on me, don’t overwhelm yourself. “ You smile walking out.

“There you are” Lia walks over as you walk out. “I was looking all over for you. Come, you have to help me.” She links her arm around yours and pulls you forward. “Woah, slow down, help with what. Lia, what trouble did you get yourself into.” You already started to scold her. “I did nothing but Rolan wants to leave and it’s all because of his stupid apprenticeship.” She groans. You stopped listening when she said the word leave. “He wants to leave….” You asked her before noticing you stopped in front of Cal and Rolan. “Great! Stop dragging her in our arguments.” Rolan sighs, scolding his siblings. “You want to leave? Leave us behind?” You look at him. “I….why?” He looks away, not able to face you. “I…before you begin, it’s not about my apprenticeship…as I tell these two, I want to protect them and with the goblins attacking once in a while and the druids throwing us out soon. This place isn’t safe.” He concluded but you weren’t having it. “So screw the rest of us?” Your tail behind was swinging a bit from holding back your anger. “You are just going to leave us behind when we need all of us to fight back in case these goblins come through the gate.” You frown “ Just ...forget it…do whatever you think is right.” You raise your arms up, get fed up with everything and walk away. Cal elbows Rolan “Nice going, you are just pushing her away.” He sighs as Rolan looks away “Quiet!” He yells before looking over to see someone walk over to them.

You walked around the cave, going to each tiefling making sure they are okay. Checking to make sure Mol isn’t up to her daily mischief. “(Y/N)!” Someone yells. Turning around you see Komira running to you. “What's wrong?” You walk over seeing the panicked look on her face. “It’s Arabella! Those druids took her!” You walk over where the rest of the tieflings were, with the druids blocking the entrance of their sacred pool. “What is the meaning of this! Where is she!?” You gently push your group to the side to pass through, others move over to let you handle this. “Kagha, where is she? It's time we talk.” You frowned. Standing near the shapeshifted bear. “Stay back, she’s under our care for stealing '' One of the druids walked up to you. “I will repeat myself. Where is Kagha?” You look up at them, Arabella’s parents right behind you. A gnome druid walks over whispering to the other druid in their ears. “Seems like you’re needed, just don’t do anything stupid.” He mutters, letting you through. “Stay here, I will make sure she’s okay.” You turn around to Komira and her husband before walking over to the stone door. “What is the meaning of this Kagha?” You descend down the stairs, tail swishing around furiously. Rath walks over “ Please (Y/N), let's not escalate this more than we should.” He begs. You stood up in front of Kagha “Let her go, she’s just a little girl.” You glance at Arabella seeing her stay still as the viper hisses near the poor girl. “Girl? You mean parasite.” She frowns. “Watch it.” You go to walk up to her but Rath gently places a hand on your shoulder stopping you. The stone door opens. You turn around seeing 4 unfamiliar faces, did your father let them pass? You look as one of them was a tiefling but they weren’t from your group.

After a couple of minutes, you held Arabella's hand as this odd group was able to convince Kagha to let her go. “Next time, no stealing got it. I doubt Kagha will be forgiving if you pull another stunt.” You let her go as she ran to her worried parents. “Thank you (Y/N)!” Locke smiles as you shake your head, “No thank those that walked in after me…speaking of that I need to have a word with my father. Remember what I said Arabella.” You look at her as she looks away “ I remember, thank you.” Walking off, you look around for your father and spot Rolan with Cal and Lia. “ I thought you were leaving” You mutter. “Well, can’t I change my mind?” He sighs “ I’m sorry…it was unfair of me to even think of leaving during the most critical time.” You smile hearing his small apology. “ It’s fine, what made you change your mind?” You go to stand closer to him only to stop hearing his response. “Another Tiefling came, they saved us from another horde of goblins, they made a very compelling point.” He began not seeing Cal and Lia shake their heads behind you telling him to stop.”Oh…that newcomer…that's good to know…” You look away “Excuse me…I have to have a word with my father.” You walked away feeling jealousy and insecurities flowing through you. “I thought she would be happy?” Rolan groans “Women are so complicated” He sighs Lia sighs “ No, just men are idiots.” She rubs her face groaning “ But you brother, are a much bigger idiot.”

#bg3 rolan x reader #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #rolan fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 #Rolan X Tiefling!Reader

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