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#and sure he comes back to his husband we know this
glittergoblinzz · 1 day
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Ghoap (well, Cbf!Soap mainly) asking Afab!Reader to be their surrogate (pt 1)
CW: Talks of surrogacy/pregnancy
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The last thing you expected when you came home after work one day was your friend Johnny sitting on your couch. You two have been friends since childhood and have been inseparable, even after he joined the military. You trusted the man with your life and would let him come over whenever he felt like it, going as far as giving him an extra key to your flat in Sunderland.
At first, you thought something bad must have happened since you could see he was clearly stressed about something. You drop your bag down and go over to the couch, sitting next to him
"Johnny, what are ya doing here? Is something wrong?"
He looks up at you with those crystal blue eyes, running a hand through his mohawk.
"Nah, there's nothing wrong per say, but...there is somethin' I need to ask ya, lass. Somethin' big...."
"What is it?"
Johnny pauses, unsure of how to ask this. After a moment, a voice from behind you two speaks up. A deep, gravely voice with a Mancunian accent. The unexpected voice causes you to jump slightly and turn around. It was Johnny's husband, Simon. Johnny had told you about him numerous times but you had never gotten to meet him in person before. His brown eyes bore down at you. It was hard to tell what exactly he was thinking but from the tone of his voice and how blunt he was, it was clear he wasn't exactly happy.
"He wants to know if you'd be our surrogate."
This makes you pause. They want you to be their surrogate? The MacTavishs? Really? You understand that you and Johnny are good friends and all, but you figured they would have gone through an agency or even adopted instead. You look back at Johnny, who was giving Simon a bit of a look himself.
"Johnny, is this true?"
Johnny turns back to you and his face softens quite a bit before he looks down at the ground.
"Aye...it's true, lass. I know this is a really, really big favour to ask, but...."
Johnny looks back up at you and gently grabs your hand.
"Could ya do this for us? We'll pay ya, take care of ya. Simon's done took a step back from the military for this next part of our lives so you'll always have at least one of us around at all times."
The look of desperation in Johnny's eyes makes your heart break for him a little bit. You knew he's always wanted to be a dad one day, have a family of his own. You fold your arms over your chest and lean back into the couch a bit, thinking it over....
"If I do this for you....how would we be doing this? Do you already have an egg from a donor? Are you just needing me to carry your child for you?"
Johnny sighs
"No. We'd be hoping ya wouldn't mind doing it....the ol' fashioned way...."
"The old fashioned way...? You mean... You'd sleep with me to knock me up?"
Before Johnny could say anything else, Simon interjects.
"No. Not him. I'd be doing it..."
You look up at Simon, clearly shocked. You barely knew this man and here he was saying that he'd be the one sleeping with you. You've only heard tidbits about him from Johnny. Sure, Johnny made him out to be a good man who liked to crack jokes and was a pretty laid back guy but from this first encounter, he doesn't seem like that at all. This made you extremely hesitant to help your friend out in starting his family....
Seeing the look of worry on your face, Johnny clears his throat causing you to look back at him again.
"Don't mind him, lass. He's just a bit....protective. Simon doesn't feel comfortable at the thought of me sleeping with someone else. I hope ya can understand that? And don't worry, like I said before...ya don't need to say yes now. Ya can give your answer later on, after you've spent a bit of time with Simon and have gotten to know him better. I wouldn't want ya sleeping with someone ya barely know."
You slowly nod. You could understand that. You and Johnny have known each other for much longer and it wasn't a secret he had a crush on you in the past....so Simon most likely felt the relationship would be threatened if Johnny was the one to sleep with you, worrying that would rekindle the old feelings he had for you from your younger years. Giving a slight sigh, you smile at Johnny and slightly give his hand a squeeze before letting it go.
"Yeah, okay. I'll give it a shot for you, Johnny. I'll try to get to know Simon better before I make my full decision..."
Johnny's face lights up and he immediately leans in to hug you tightly. He pulls away after a moment with a huge grin on his face.
"Thanks, lass. I promise Simon isn't normally like this. He just....has a hard time trusting people he doesn't know. He'll warm up to ya eventually."
This earns a scoff from Simon as he turns his head away from you two. Johnny laughs and gets up from the couch, moving behind it towards Simon.
"Lighten up, love. I know ya two pretty well....I think you'll get along in no time at all..."
He looks at Simon lovingly as he brushes his hand through Simon's short, black hair before giving him a kiss on his forehead. Simon frowns a bit, some of the scars on his face becoming more prominent; especially the ones on his upper lip and cheek.
"Really, Johnny? In front of her?"
Johnny only laughs in response, nodding.
"Aye, in front of her. Now come on, we should probably let her be now..."
He didn't need to tell Simon twice. The Brit immediately started heading towards the door without another word, only stopping in the doorway to wait for Johnny. Before leaving, Johnny turns to you again.
"Again, thank you. This really does mean a lot to me, and especially Simon....even if the brute doesn't want to admit it..."
Another groan is heard from Simon, who's barely...just barely....got a slight upward curl of his lips going on.
"...So I'll text ya soon with some dates and times so we can all get together and hang out a bit, so you can Simon can get to know each other better, yeah?"
You nod, smiling as you stand up and give Johnny another quick hug.
"Yeah. Sounds good. See you later, Johnny. Simon."
You give a slight nod to Simon, who hesitates before giving a slight nod back. Johnny turns and walks to Simon, taking Simon's hand in his before the couple leaves your house.
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cheriladycl01 · 5 hours
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Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife chef!reader? She always brought him food because she knew how busy he could get with everything. So, she would always make him his favourite meals/pick up a guilty pleasure snack as a surprise for him. Maybe she had some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks! :))
Lets make lunch for my Husband! - Peter Bonnington x ChefWife! Reader
Plot: You are famous on Tiktok for making videos where you pack lunches for you husband but use ingredients globally as you always travel with him of race weekends.
Credit to princemick for the GIF
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y/user
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Liked by peter.bonn, gordongram and lewishamilton
y/user: Racing in Bahrain!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round One 🇧🇭 And we have Chicken, Rice and Veggies (a very hearty meal here) 🏎️
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fan1: I love her TikTok’s she’s so funny and Peter is just so cute!
fan2: their relationship is eveything you me
gordongram: Cooking in Style as always Y/N!
-> y/user: thanks Gords!
“Baby, lunch was amazing today! And thank you for putting the Twirl in there!” He grins as you both get back to the hotel, it had been a good race and you were both happy.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it hunny. I’ve already made a meal plan of what I’m going to make at each race! You’ll be so happy with breakfast lunch and dinner in Silverstone!” You grin pulling him in for a kiss.
“Mmmm what have I got?” He grins, pulling you to sit on his lap on the sofa in your hotel room.
“Breakfast, of course a full English, get you all set for the day and make sure you’ve got all the protein to see you through till lunch. Then you’ve got your fave Ham Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwich for lunch. And then to round it off, I’ll invite Toto, Suzie, Lewis, George and Carmen all round for a Sunday Roast!” You say practically bouncing at the prospect of guests and being able to cook for them!
“I love you, you are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me” he smiles pulling you back to relax on the sofa as you both sit there in each others embrace.
“I love you most!” You declare making him laugh and kiss your head. It wasn’t a battle he could win with you despite knowing you were wrong and he held an impossible amount of love for you.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Saudí Arabia!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Two 🇸🇦 And we have my first time making Kabsa which a local helped me get all the ingredients! It’s very yummy! 🏎️
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peter.bonn: it was so nice, can’t wait to come back!
fan1: I’m living for this series, not the rich men racing!
fan2: this is so cute that she cooks for him!
“You know, the boys keep saying you need to start bringing it in for them aswell” he chides as you get into the car.
“What am I expected to cook for the 5000 now? I don’t think so, that’s why they have a paid for hospitality…” you groan, waking up early just to prepare Peter some food was exhausting you couldn’t imagine getting up to make it for more people!
“Maybe Toto should hire you as head chef here!” He grins and you laugh at the thought. You, working in Mercedes Catering?
“Baby … you know I have a … Michelin Star right?” you offer in confusion.
“Oh so your below working for Mercedes now are you?” He frowns, faking his offence on the matter.
“Oh stop being a whiny baby Pete!” You scold lightly hitting his arm, making him recoil and sigh before pulling you into a big hug.
“Im lucky you don’t have to be there 24/7. What would I do without you” he laughs.
“Probably starve as you’d forget to eat!” You hum in thought.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Australia!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Three 🇦🇺 Of course I couldn’t come in and not offer fairy bread (as requested by my adopted grid son Oscar Piastri) and my famous Chicken Parm Sandwiches for the team which went down a treat!
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oscarpiastri: thank you for the fairy bread Y/N, LN understands the hype now
-> landonorris: don’t tell Jon, he said I couldn’t have any …
-> y/user: and rat out my second grid son, no way!
danielricciardo: brought back childhood memories! Thanks for coming all the way to VCARB for delivery!
-> y/user: you are welcome Dani! 🇦🇺🐨
“Thank you for the fairy bread!” Oscar said pulling you into a hug as you came back to get your container from the McLaren garage, seeing it fully empty.
“Everyone enjoy? Even though I felt like a child making it?” You laugh knowing it wasn’t exactly a chef thing to make but Oscar had asked for it, and who were you to deny the literal son you had adopted since he started.
“Yeah, Lando hadn’t ever tried it and I made it for Lily once to prove to her it was a real thing we ate but the bread kinda ended up being soggy, she preferred yours a lot more” he laughed back and you continued to talk about racing, cooking, life and everything else that just came up.
Halfway through that conversation Lando joined pulling his grid mum into a massive hug and asking her to bake him some cake or make the chicken wraps.
Fun fact, Y/N actually invented the chicken wrap for Lando. She became Lando’s private chef for a while when he lived in the UK, and he wasn’t … well I mean he’s Lando and if anyone expects him to know even know to turn on an oven you are sorely mistaken.
Eventually a group of drivers were around the woman, and it took Peter and Lewis forcing their way through to get her to come back.
“You’ve been busy!” He smiles nodding his head to the now dispersing group.
“Yeah, just talking to the kids!” You grin, nodding in the McLaren twins direction who were now messing around with each other.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Azerbaijan!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Four 🇦🇿 Cooked up a storm off track today in a cooking interview and remaking one of the first dishes I learnt in school ‘Uzbek Plov’
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inthekitchen: pleasure to have you in and talking while cooking :)
-> y/user: thank you for all the fun! 🫶🏼
peter.bonn: This was nice, but I’m going to need some comfort food soon baby, these variations of meat and rice … it’ll be the end of me.
-> y/user: I thought you enjoyed my cooking!
-> peter.bonn: I DO! Just missing some creature comforts!
“You were amazing in that interview baby!” He says twirling you around as he came to pick you up on the Saturday evening. You had unfortunately missed qualifying, but you were excited to hear about your husbands day.
“Thank you, how was qually?” You ask.
“Could have been better, could have been worse” he admits looking down. He then tells you all about his frustrations with the car this season and he feels pretty helpless when it comes to advising Lewis who is getting more and more hot headed as the season progresses.
“Well I made your favourite!” You grin showing him the famous Victoria Sponge you’d made on the cooking show.
“Oh fuck, I love you!” He grins before directing you over to the car to get you both back to the hotel as soon as possible so he can have some of the delicacy in the tin on your lap.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Miami
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Five 🇺🇸 My husbands been getting fussier. Now in the homeland where there is no cuisine … we’ve gone for the requested creature comforts. From Breakfast to Lunch here are Peter’s faves!
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peter.bonn: best waffles ever 🧇
“Thank you, I think I really needed that meal! As much as love the differentiation with this global skills challenge. I needed something to remind me of home! The waffles were perfect. And my favourite Sandwich? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for Monaco next week!” He grins happily. Loving that you were cooking him something for every race.
“Ooo that reminds me. I picked you up these” you grin. Out from your bag you pull out a box of American Candy that he always wanted whenever you guys were in the states.
“In Moderation okay? Toto will murder me if he knows all these desserts are happening!” You smile kissing him before placing the sweets in his hand.
You had big plans for Monaco and you couldn’t wait!
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
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megalony · 2 days
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Below The Limit
This is a new Tommy Kinard imagine, loosely requested by anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: With (Y/n) having diabetes, Tommy likes to make sure she's okay when she's on shift. And when she isn't, he makes sure he'd there to look after her.
Enjoy.
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"Tommy, hey. What can we do for you?" Chimney dropped the wash cloth down into the bucket by his feet and moved to plant both hands down on his hips.
His lips quirked into a smile when he noticed a familiar face waltzing into the station.
His gaze followed Tommy walking past the truck with an air of confidence about him like he was still part of this team. As if he always had and always would belong here, and the thought made Chimney smile.
A bashful look flustered across Tommy's face as his lips quirked into a lopsided smile that made his nose scrunch up and caused creases in the corners of his eyes. He glanced down at his feet for a moment while he had one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other hand was scrunched around the bag strap on his shoulder.
"Hey, is the missus about?"
His voice was as soft as the look his his eyes which darted around the station to see if (Y/n) was anywhere within sight.
Sometimes it felt strange to be back in this station house. Back where he had been a couple of years prior. Back somewhere that didn't feel like a home to Tommy like the Harbour now did. But it didn't feel so bad being back here when he knew this was where (Y/n) was; that the team now felt like a home and he was glad his wife was a part of it.
"Yeah, I think she's up in the kitchen, come on." Chimney waved over his shoulder and led the way towards the stairs with Tommy trailing close behind.
Tommy swiftly climbed the stairs, smiling softly and nodding his head when he locked eyes with Hen. She was sat on the sofa watching the news, nursing a cup of strong coffee that smelt like it had no milk in it whatsoever.
He turned to the left, his boots thudding against the polished floor announcing his presence to the rest of the team.
As soon as his eyes landed on (Y/n), a soft grin formed on his lips and the tension in his shoulders loosened as he approached the table. He let the bag slump down on his shoulder and silently walked up behind (Y/n).
His arms cocooned around her neck and he pressed his chest down into her shoulders, feeling the way (Y/n) jumped and gasped before she realised who it was. When Tommy pressed his lips down on the top of (Y/n)'s head, he felt her hands reach up and hold onto his forearms. She leaned back into him and turned her head to the right, pressing a soft kiss against Tommy's exposed neck.
(Y/n) let her eyes drag up and down her husband, feeling her heart thunder out a few extra beats at his attire. He was wearing a very thin, sleeveless grey top that showed off the way his arms bulged when they wrapped around her neck. And his blue jeans were pulled up high over his hips with his shirt tucked in.
"Hi," She whispered softly, rubbing her hand up and down his bicep while she leaned her head on his other arm. (Y/n) knew if she closed her eyes, she would be liable to fall asleep. This was how they slept when they were at home, with her tangled up in Tommy's arms like this.
"Hi babe." Tommy gave her shoulder a squeeze and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he swayed (Y/n) from side to side. He felt the way he shivered when he lifted his head and moved to hover his lips over her ear. "I brought you your meds."
Tommy kissed her cheek again before he leaned round to steal one from her lips. When he stood up properly, his hands moved to hold her shoulders as (Y/n) leaned her head back into his abdomen and smiled up at him.
"Thank you."
(Y/n) gave his wrist a squeeze before she got up from her seat at the table and slid her hand into Tommy's palm. Her fingers squeezed his hand tight and she gave his arm a tug until he grinned and followed her around the side of the table and over into the kitchen.
When they got into the otherwise empty kitchen, (Y/n) spun round and pressed her hips back against the counter and moved her hands to grasp the countertop. Her head tilted back to look up at her husband who towered over her with a coy grin as he moved to stand between her legs.
He slid the backpack off his shoulder and slumped it down on the counter beside (Y/n) before his hands moved to hold her hips. He gave her a squeeze and pressed down against her until their hips were touching and their chests were merged together. His thumbs glided across her hips and he took a few seconds to look her up and down, drinking her in as if he hadn't seen (Y/n) in days rather than just hours.
"Do you feel okay? How's your shift been?" Tommy kept his voice quiet, although there was only Chimney and Eddie sat at the kitchen table and they weren't listening in.
He smiled when (Y/n) let go of the counter to drag her hands up his arms until she was holding his biceps.
"Three calls in less than two hours this morning. I'm ready for home," (Y/n) let her head fall in the centre of Tommy's chest which rumbled as he laughed and made her stomach flood with adrenaline.
She loved the way his thumbs stroked up and down her hips and his fingers gave her a squeeze every now and then. And she could feel his lips merging with her hair again and the touch made her shiver.
So far (Y/n)'s shift had been hectic. They had been on more callouts this morning than the last shift (Y/n) had been on last week. For it being her first shift back after a week off sick, she had certainly come back with a bang. But she knew in six hours she could head home and be with Tommy.
He had been on shift last night and was finally heading home, so he had a few hours to kill until (Y/n) came off shift and could come back home. That was why he was here. He had finished work and picked (Y/n)'s meds up along the way home because he knew she wouldn't have chance and she was running low.
"Tell me you've had lunch, or do I have to crack open the insulin before I go?"
Tommy's hand slid up from (Y/n)'s hip to cradle the side of her neck and he tilted her head back so they were level. His nose nudged hers as he swooped down and stole a kiss, tasting the orange juice on her lips which told Tommy she was trying to keep her sugar levels up.
He felt (Y/n)'s hands glide from his biceps to hold his shoulders so she could push up on her toes and be level with him but he pulled back far too soon for her liking.
His fingers curled around the back of her neck and he arched a brow, waiting for a response while he reached over her and opened his bag.
"Chicken sandwich and an apple for good measure. Is that okay, Pilot?"
"I suppose that's good enough. But take it easy, please? I know what it's like when it's a busy shift."
God knows Tommy had had enough busy shifts down at the Harbour to know it was very easy to miss meals or forget about a drink and start to dehydrate. But he couldn't have that happening with (Y/n). Skipping one meal would throw off her blood sugar and give her a dip in glucose levels which she didn't need.
He didn't want (Y/n)'s first shift back to be one where she had to go home early because she'd overdone things and made herself sick. If he thought for one second that she was already wearing herself thin, Tommy would take her back home with him right now.
"Don't worry, I've got a stash of chocolate bars in the truck and cartons of juice in the fridge. And there's a sweet box I keep dipping into, I'll be fine."
She always brought in fruit juice and cans of pop so she had sugary drinks on hand in case of a hypo state. And there was a box of small chocolate bars, mainly Freddos, tucked under one of the seats in the truck. It was easier for (Y/n) to have a little boost of chocolate before they went into busy, exercising situations so she wouldn't wear herself down and run low on sugar.
Plus, they all brought sweets and treats in for when they were bored or on the move. And sweets helped (Y/n) after a big call out and she needed to boost her levels back up again.
"Hm, good."
Tommy stole another kiss before he rummaged around in his bag and got out the white paper bag.
"You've got some glucagon in there, we burned through all the reserves the other week. Keep some here and I'll take the rest home."
His hands fell down to hold (Y/n)'s hips when she spun so her hips were pressed into the counter and her bum was pressed back into Tommy. She opened the bag and took a look through while she felt his lips attach to her shoulder.
(Y/n) hadn't been well during the last two weeks and she had to have all of last week off work. Tommy had taken a few days off to look after her and he had been surprised at how much glucagon they had gone through. (Y/n) had insulin and a few different forms of glucose, but for emergencies such as a hypoglaecemic state, she had glucagon injections.
Tommy had never had to give (Y/n) so many injections as he did during the last two weeks. He had to explain to the chemist that they needed more in case (Y/n) had any more hypo states. She kept some injections at home, but she had to keep some here at the station for emergencies.
She had spare insulin, glucose sachets, glucose powder and glucagon injections in her medical bag here in the station.
"Thank you babe." (Y/n) took out what she needed and put the rest back in Tommy's backpack, but her eyes lit up and she reached inside his bag for the pack of jelly babies she just spotted. She felt him murmur "How did I know you'd find those." against her shoulder as if he had bought them for himself.
They both knew he got those especially for (Y/n).
They were one of her favourites and they were a great source of sugar when she needed a boost.
She took them out the bag and hid them in one of the kitchen cupboards with the rest of her stash. (Y/n) could always count on Tommy to hide a pack of sweets or a few chocolate bars into her work bag when she wasn't looking. She would never run out of reserves. Tommy wouldn't let that happen.
"Alright, now you're stocked up, I can go home."
"You're leaving me?"
He knew she was joking but the look in her eyes made Tommy's knees go weak and his stomach flooded with adrenaline. His hands cupped her face and he kissed her deeply while he groaned against her.
"Get back to work before I take you home with me, babe. I'll see you tonight." If he stayed here much longer either Tommy wouldn't go home or he would drag (Y/n) back with him and end her shift early. He needed to go now while he had the willpower to tear himself away from her.
***
3.7MMOL.
*Baby you need to get some sugar in your system, you're below the limit. Xx
Tommy tapped his phone against his palm and glanced up towards the sky like he was looking for answers or praying for a swift reply.
He needed (Y/n) to answer him.
Due to her diabetes, she had a Dexcom which was a small device on her abdomen that constantly checked and took readings of her glucose levels. For safety reasons, both (Y/n) and Tommy had the app on their phones. It alerted (Y/n) when she needed to boost her levels or when she had too much glucose and was going to have a hyper.
It was also good for if her levels dropped during the night because sometimes (Y/n) would sleep through it and wake up feeling horrid. But the app sent alerts and Tommy was a light sleeper. He got the alerts and made sure she was okay.
And right now, his alerts were going wild.
He continued to tap his phone against his hand while his shoulders rested up against the wall and he crossed one leg over the other.
*Baby, are you okay? Have you managed to eat anything yet? Xx
He began to turn his phone around and around in circles, but he wasn't getting any response. All he could see was the Dexcom alerts that showed her levels weren't rising yet, meaning (Y/n) either hadn't managed to eat or drink anything. Or, she was, but it wasn't helping and if that was the case, Tommy would have to go and make sure she was alright.
She was on shift and that made Tommy even more worried. What if this was happening while she was in the middle of a call? What if she didn't have her phone on her and couldn't see the alerts? What if she confused the hypo symptoms with general exhersion from the job?
"Hey Kinard, you ready?"
His eyes darted to the right when a colleague, Andrew, patted his shoulder and nodded towards the chopper. Had they gotten a callout and Tommy had completely missed the announcement?
He couldn't go out on a call. He couldn't fly them out into an unknown situation with his phone sending off alerts every two minutes and Tommy sat there, unable to check on (Y/n).
"Give me a minute." He looked back down at his phone, about to swipe across to (Y/n)'s contact when another notification popped up on the screen.
Glucose levels: 3.3MMOL
"Fuck!"
He couldn't go now. He had to go and check what was happening. If (Y/n)'s levels dropped anymore than this she was at risk of a seizure or going unconscious. And the last time that happened, Tommy had spent the night in the emergency room and the next two days in the hospital with (Y/n) slipping in and out of consciousness. He wasn't doing that again. He needed to go and find out if his wife was alright.
His heart gave a sudden pound in his chest when his phone started to ring and sent jolts of electricity running along his nerves and up his arms.
"Eddie?" Why was Eddie calling him? Wasn't he supposed to be on shift today? Hadn't Tommy already told him that he too was on shift? They didn't have any plans, they were supposed to be going out for drinks the day after tomorrow.
"Hey Tommy, sorry I know you're at work, but, uh, we've got a situation down here."
He knew. He just knew that Eddie was talking about (Y/n). Why else would he be calling Tommy? It wasn't as if Tommy was part of their team or someone they would call to cover a shift or diffuse a situation. His only connection to the 118, other than his friendship with some of the team, was his wife.
"How bad is she?"
"Sweating and having heart palpitations. She's had some sweets and a can of Fanta but she doesn't look good, we're waiting to see if her levels rise now. Any chance-"
"I'm on my way. Do not give her anything else until I get there."
They had to wait at least ten minutes after giving (Y/n) a drink or something to eat. Her body needed time to even out and for the sugar to do its magic and raise her glucose levels again. Then if it didn't work, they could try giving her something else to see if it would work. But Tommy didn't want them giving (Y/n) anything, not until he got there and checked how bad she was for himself.
"Kinard, is everything okay?"
"No. I need to go get my wife."
It was a surprisingly short trip from the Harbour down to the 118 station and Tommy couldn't have been more thankful.
His car keys circled round on his thumb, swinging back and forth until the keychain that depicted him and (Y/n) was continuously bashing into the palm of his hand. His work boots thudded against the polished floor and both hands clenched into fists, imbedding his keys into his palm like he was creating a mould.
"Where is she?" His voice dropped two octaves and deep frown lines appeared in his forehead when Buck came into his line of sight. He didn't have time for pleasantries, he needed to find (Y/n).
"Up in the annex." Buck pointed over his shoulder and turned, guiding Tommy up the stairs towards the kitchen he had only been in three days ago.
He didn't like what he saw. When his eyes locked on his wife, his chest puffed out and he held his breath. She was sat on the sofa, arms bound around her chest with her head tilted down and her body moving back and forth as she sat trembling.
He could see a can of Fanta opened on the coffee table, the pack of jelly babies he brought the other day were ripped open along with a chocolate bar and a glass of orange juice. None of which were finished and all of which clearly weren't doing anything to raise (Y/n)'s levels.
Bobby was leaning over the back of the sofa, both hands clamped down on the cushion like he was going to break it apart. Hen was sat next to (Y/n) on the sofa with a hand on her shoulder, and Eddie was sat on the coffee table. Tommy could see (Y/n)'s phone resting on Eddie's knee and he figured he was checking her Dexcom app to watch her levels to see if they were rising or not.
As soon as he walked over, Eddie got up and moved to stand near the kitchen table with Buck. (Y/n) didn't need everyone crowding round her when she didn't feel well.
"How are we doing, baby?"
A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s system when she looked up and realised Tommy was here.
He was in his overalls.
The royal blue uniform he wore tightened and tensed around his shoulders and bunched over his hips when he crouched down in front of her. The material strained at his knees which pressed into the sofa while he crouched down between her knees and moved his hands to grip her thighs comfortingly.
"I- I'm sorry-"
"No, no apologies. Let's have a look at you."
She had made him leave work to come here. (Y/n) didn't want him to have to do that. But the stern look on his face stopped the panic from bubbling away in her head. He wasn't annoyed at her; he had chosen to come down here and he wouldn't have her apologise for that.
His hand slithered up to cup the side of her neck and he smiled softly while he felt her pulse. The palpitations were still present, but they weren't as bad as Tommy was expecting. Or as bad as (Y/n) had experienced last week while she was off work.
He reached across for her phone and took a look. Her levels were still below 4 and that wasn't good.
"Let's have another try and see how we go. Can you have a drink for me?" Tommy turned round and grabbed the can of Fanta from the table and held it out. One more try to see if food or a drink would even her levels out and if not, they would have to try something else.
(Y/n) tried to curl her hand around the can but she whimpered when the can began to shake and the pop fizzled around the rim and trickled down her hand. Her eyes locked with her husband when he curled his hand around hers and moved the can towards her lips.
After a few sips, she let Tommy take the can and put it back down and she moved her hands to hold onto his forearms.
He stroked his thumbs across her thighs while (Y/n) kept hold of his arms like she was making sure he wasn't about to leave her. As if he would. He thought about getting her to try some more sweets, but she didn't look like she could try and stomach any more. The dazed look in her eyes told Tommy it would be dangerous to get her to try and eat in case she passed out.
The shaking continued and it looked like the couple were trying some strange dance together.
But when (Y/n)'s head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up, her chin tilted down and her head flopped forward with her body following suit. Tommy pushed up on his knees just in time for (Y/n)'s head to collide with his shoulder and send his nerves shooting from the collision.
He moved his hands from her thighs to dig into her hips instead while Hen quickly leaned over and held onto (Y/n)'s upper arms to reel her up so she didn't fall down to the floor.
"No, baby you need to stay awake with me. Come on, up we go." He pushed up from his knees and eased (Y/n) backwards while he sat down on the sofa beside her.
As soon as he was sat down, Tommy carefully laid (Y/n) up against his chest with her head tucked into the crook of his neck. He could feel her quietly groaning into his skin and when her hand flopped onto his thigh, he breathed in relief. She was still conscious.
"I brought some more glucagon injections the other day, can someone grab it please? If her levels don't rise I need to take her to the hospital."
Eddie headed over to the kitchen. He already knew Buck wouldn't know what he was looking for and he wasn't sure Bobby would know either. He hurried into the kitchen and opened the end cupboard where (Y/n) kept all of her meds and her drinks and sweets.
"Baby, you still with me? I need to give you an injection, okay?" Tommy's left arm stayed wrapped around (Y/n)'s waist, keeping her tucked up into his chest. While his right hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head back enough so he could look down at her and make sure she was coherent.
When she grumbled and gave his thigh a light squeeze, Tommy shifted his hands down to (Y/n)'s waist. He turned her around as slowly and carefully as he could and leaned (Y/n)'s back up against his chest so she was slouched against him.
Her head fell back on his shoulder and when (Y/n) felt his right arm swoop around her waist, she flopped her trembling hand down to clench around his forearm.
(Y/n) couldn't find the will to open her eyes, but she kept squeezing his arm every few seconds so he knew she was still awake and somewhat alert to what was going on.
As soon as Eddie came back through, Bobby held out his hand, a silent gesture that he would be the one giving (Y/n) her injection. As much as she loved and trusted her team, she didn't want any of them to do her medication. She only trusted Tommy with that job role. And he didn't like the thought of someone else giving his wife her medication.
"Okay, arm out for me sweetheart."
Tommy perched his chin on (Y/n)'s left shoulder while Hen gently held her wrist to keep her arm steady since she was still trembling like they were stood in the Arctic. His right hand curled tighter around her waist, pinning her into his chest so he could tap his thumb over her elbow to find where best to inject the glucagon.
It was a good job he'd done this hundreds of times already and that he was used to giving her the injection from this angle. His lips pressed down against her shoulder when she whimpered and tilted her forehead against his.
"Shh, sweetheart, all done." He managed a smile when Bobby took the used needle from him to go and dispose of it.
Tommy's hand pressed down against (Y/n)'s stomach while his other hand smoothed up and down her arm. He merged his lips against her cheek and sat her up a bit straighter just to make sure she didn't fall asleep. If she went unconscious he would have to take her to the hospital and he knew she never wanted to do that. She hated the hospital.
He could feel himself counting the minutes in his head. He needed (Y/n) to react. He needed her phone to buzz with a notification that the injection had worked and her levels were rising back to where they should be. He needed her to perk up and be out the danger zone so he could take her home.
Tommy held his breath and stayed motionless when (Y/n) suddenly moved down to hold his arm. He could tell it took her some effort to lift his arm and he wondered what she was doing. But his lips curved into a melting grin when she wrapped his arm around her upper chest just below her neck and he realised what she wanted.
She wanted comfort; she wanted a cuddle.
He curled his left hand around her shoulder and tensed his arm across her collarbone. His heart flipped and increased in rhythm when (Y/n) tilted her chin down and kissed his arm. Both her hands curled around his forearm that she was kissing and she snuggled down against his chest and he could tell she felt calmer when he started to sway them from side to side.
"Hey, I think it's working." Eddie picked up (Y/n)'s phone and held it out for them all to take a look.
A notification popped up. Her levels were steadily crawling back up towards 4MMOL and as long as they kept getting higher and got anywhere above 4, (Y/n) would be okay.
"Thank God," Tommy murmured against the top of her head while he slowly uncurled his arm from her waist so he could grab the glass of juice. He knew going into a hypo always made (Y/n) feel thirsty and he would feel better if she had some more to drink to keep herself conscious and alert.
(Y/n) tried to take a few sips but she had to put the glass down and she went straight back to cradling Tommy's arm to her chest.
"I feel sick," She whispered hoarsely while she blinked a few times to clear her hazy vision. She could feel the shaking starting to subside and she was starting to feel more alert and awake, but she felt like she was going to throw up. Not uncommon when she had an episode, but (Y/n) hated feeling like this.
"That should wear off soon."
"You need to go home and get something to eat. And don't think you're coming in tomorrow, I'll change the rota and swap you to Friday instead." Bobby's tone and his expression was one not to be messed with. (Y/n) couldn't stay for the last four hours of her shift today, not after an episode like this. It would only make her a liability for this happening again.
She needed to rest and it was nearing tea time so she would need to go and get something to eat and hope that would help settle her system. And Bobby knew it would be best if she had tomorrow off to level her system out and she could come in on Friday instead so she didn't lose any hours.
He knew Tommy would give him a call if (Y/n) wasn't well enough to come in Friday.
Hen whispered a soft "I'll go get your stuff," and she patted (Y/n)'s thigh before she got up to go down to the locker room.
"Right, shall we get you home?"
(Y/n) tilted her head back on Tommy's shoulder and moved her hand to cup the side of his neck. She brushed her thumb across his jaw, noticing the intrigue in his eyes when she bit down on her lower lip. "You're on shift-"
"You can think again if you think I'm leaving you like this. I'm taking you home, that's final. Come on, sweetheart." There was no way Tommy was taking her home and then going back to work. He had already cleared it to end his shift early. Everyone at the Harbour was more than understanding when Tommy explained about (Y/n)'s condition and the fact that he needed to look after her.
His hands shifted down to her hips and he carefully eased (Y/n) forward. He let her lean back on his chest and use him as a prop to hold her up while he pushed up from the sofa.
But when Tommy realised her knees were quaking, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head.
He stood in front of her, shifted his hands down to her thighs and lifted her up effortlessly like she weighed nothing more than a pillow. (Y/n) gasped and quickly hooked her legs around his waist and looped her arms around the back of his neck. Her temple fell forward onto his shoulder and she began to glide her fingers up and down the back of his neck until Tommy growled quickly and caused her to stop.
She could feel the way he held her in place on his torso with just one arm wrapped around the back of her thighs. He leaned down and grabbed her phone with his free hand and followed Bobby down the stairs. It was as if (Y/n) weighed nothing and the ease he held her with and his combined, flattering grin made (Y/n)'s stomach jump.
Her lips attached to his neck just behind his ear and she grazed her teeth against his skin. She smiled into his neck when his free hand slapped against her thigh while he twisted his head to kiss her temple.
"Let's get you home, hm?"
***
Tilting her head down, (Y/n) nudged her nose against the side of Tommy's neck while she looped her arms tighter around his shoulders. Her fingers tickled the back of his neck and ragged up and down the short hairs until he had to lean his head back when she made him shiver.
She kept her eyes closed while she pressed a tender, butterfly kiss against his neck and pressed her knees tighter into his hips. Her lips curved into a grin against his neck when she felt his hands move.
Tommy slid his left hand up beneath her shirt so his fingers could trace over her bare skin and trace the dips and curves of her spine. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and wedged his other hand past the band of her leggings so he could give her hip a squeeze.
He knew she wasn't watching the movie anymore. He wasn't sure she had even been watching to begin with and at one point he thought she had fallen asleep, but she proved she was awake now.
He slouched down into the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over the other while (Y/n) shimmied on his lap and curled up against his chest.
When she finally bothered to open her eyes, (Y/n) pressed her temple into the side of Tommy's jaw. She was about to turn her head and see how far into the movie they were, but her eyes suddenly locked on Tommy's phone that was laid out on the sofa next to his thigh.
He had her Dexcom app open on his phone.
He was checking her levels, even while he had (Y/n) sat here on his lap awake and content, proving that she felt better than this afternoon. He wanted to watch her levels and pounce the second her levels dropped below 4. Tommy wasn't willing to go through another hypo. Not when he was here to look after her.
(Y/n)'s lips curved into a tender smile against his neck when she realised he kept flitting his eyes down to his phone every now and then, making sure he noticed any dip in her levels.
"You feeling okay?" He murmured quietly against the top of her head while his hand continued to rub circles up and down her back. And (Y/n) could feel the pad of his index finger tracing each column of her spine like they were bumps in the road he was counting.
"Just tired."
"Tired, or drowsy?" He hummed when (Y/n) shrugged and pressed a tingling kiss right beneath his jaw which made him take a deep breath. "Can you try some chocolate then? Stop your levels from dropping any further."
(Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck when Tommy pressed his palm flat against her back and leaned forward. Their chests meshed together and he turned his head to plant a sloppy kiss against her cheek while his hand reached out onto the coffee table and grabbed the pack of chocolate buttons.
He slouched back into the sofa and inched down a little more until he was almost fully reclined with (Y/n) tilted forward into his chest.
He placed the bag down next to his phone and he smiled when (Y/n) took a small handful.
Her levels had been going up and down since Tommy brought her home and although she felt a lot better now, he didn't want to risk her having another hypo. Which was why he'd got the app open so he could see if her levels dropped so the moment they did, he could get her to eat or drink something and perk them back up. And if her levels rose too high, he would go and grab her meds from the kitchen.
(Y/n) popped two chocolate buttons in her mouth and held one out against Tommy's lips. Her stomach fluttered with adrenaline when he gladly accepted the chocolate and kissed the pad of her thumb in the process.
She took a few more chocolates while her cheek rested on Tommy's shoulder and her arm stayed around the back of his neck.
But after a few minutes, (Y/n) slowly lifted herself up and sank back on Tommy's thighs. Her hands moved to cradle either side of his neck and she loved the way his eyes instantly fell on her and his head tilted back against the sofa so he was staring up at her. He was giving her his full attention as both hands moved to hold her hips.
"Can we go to bed?"
She got her answer when he reached across for the tv remote and turned the tv off without a word.
Leaning forward, (Y/n) sank back down against his chest and attached her lips to his. She could taste the chocolate on his lips and the sugary taste and the feel of Tommy's teeth grazing her lips had her nerves tingling and sparking like electricity.
Their lips barely parted, pulling back to suck in another gasping breath before Tommy was taking control of her lips again. His hands slithered down to cup the back of her thighs while he leaned forward, squashing her chest into his so he could push forward and stand up. He kept (Y/n) sat low on his torso, her thighs pinned around his hips in a tight embrace that made him smile against her lips.
He took two steps away from the sofa before he groaned against her mouth and pulled back so he could look what he was doing.
It was hard to concentrate when he felt (Y/n)'s hands glide up from his neck to cup his face. Her thumbs brushed across his cheekbones and she watched him slip his phone into his back pocket. But it was when he grabbed the pack of chocolates that (Y/n)'s eyes furrowed and she looked at him quizzically.
"What're you doing?"
Her lips attached to the side of his jaw and she felt him give her thigh a tight squeeze while a smirk formed on his lips and his nose scrunched.
"Trust me, you're gonna need the sugar."
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forkloverr · 1 day
Note
MORE OLDER LEON HEADCANNONS!!!
I thought I would take advantage of me and @thebiscuithater 's older Leon brain rot AND also answer this ask that had been sitting in my inbox (SORRY!!) anyways.... infinite darkness Leon supremacy <3 🤍 - No silliness (if you know what I mean) but Leon gets a little mischievous 🤍 - An older Leon was in mind while writing this, but to each their own :)
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stubble.
The moon is piercing through the windows, various lamps and small lights illuminate the space around you. Soft jazz is quietly playing in the background. It’s approximately 2 AM, and instead of being honked out and snoozing in your warm comfortable bed, you’re hunched over the stove, cooking a warm meal for your husband, Leon, to come back to. He had been called to an impromptu mission earlier that day, and you just knew he wouldn’t be coming home at a reasonable time. So, you sacrifice your precious sleep and prepare a home-cooked meal for him to enjoy as he rests his aching body. You softly rub your droopy sleepy eyes, picturing a sad Leon standing in front of the microwave heating up some instant ramen. That is NOT how your husband is going to look tonight, and you were sure of it. Who knows how much time had passed, it seemed like these noodles would never be done, and maybe, just maybe, you could rest your eyes a little…. It couldn't hurt, right?
As sleep seductively enchants you, a hot prickly sensation overtakes you as haunting lips plant on your neck. Large sturdy arms slither around your waist, and just before you could scream bloody murder, a familiar husky voice appears. “Well well, what is this? Isn’t it a bit late for a princess like you to be awake?” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek as those last words exit his mouth. Your body immediately relaxes, the threat of a (very hot) murderer killing you as you're making homemade ramen no longer exists. Through an obviously fatigued voice, you reply, removing your hand from the pot to rest upon his scarred hand. “I didn’t want you to come home lonely and hungry..” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, realizing how corny that sounded out loud. (Or maybe it was the steam from the noodles) Leon’s arms squeeze you gently, his head moving back to your neck. “Mmm… How sweet of you, now I feel guilty for not bringing you anything as a repayment.” Then and there you could tell what mischievous plan he was formulating in his beautiful brain. He knew your weakness, HE KNEW very well what it would do to you. And perhaps just wanting to see you squirm, he did just that. Once again pleasant goosebumps arise from your neck as Leon kisses your neck, purposely letting his stubble graze your sensitive skin. You can't tell if you want to scream or say other things that will not be mentioned. You start to giggle, his touch heating up your whole body. Just like he imagined, you squirm beneath his touch, softly grasping at his arms that were keeping you captive. Oh but he doesn't stop, in fact it almost encourages him to keep going. It feels like lava is pooling in your stomach, and butterflies are traveling up your throat, transforming into those sugary sweet giggles he craves to hear. His steamy breath ricochets off your neck, teasing you for more. “Have I messed with you enough dear? I don't think so… maybe just one mor-” The sound of bubbles boiling over the stove interrupts his snarky torture, and immediately reminds you that you were supposed to be watching the noodles. “Oh..” You squeak. Leon finally releases you, spinning you around to look at him while also turning the heat down on the stove. Placing one calloused hand along your jaw, he kisses your lips softly. “Thank you for this love, but after we eat, don't think I’m done with you..” He winks.
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Text
Star Wars Incorrect Quotes as things my husband and I say to each other. (Other people thrown in)
Anakin, working on a speeder- Hand me the drill
Padme- Is that the one that looks like a blaster, and spins, or is that the stick that you twist?
Anakin, in disappointed shock- Didn’t your father own a construction business?
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Obi-Wan- I can never find my name on any of the gift store keychains
Cody- Yeah, that’s because your mom wanted to be “different” before it was cool
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Rex- Is this the reason you didn’t want to go see the Barbie movie with me?
Anakin, on the other side of the comm with Padmé talking about seeing Oppenheimer together- No, Rex to be honest that was a completely different reason
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Quinlan- You know what I think that may have been my fault
Obi-Wan - Oh is someone finally realizing actions have consequences?
Quinlan, deadpan- Don’t you have an illegitimate child?
(We have yet to confirm or deny if this guy is or is not the father but honey physical genetics are hard to deny)
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*Loud fart noise coming from Anakin’s side of the comm call* Anakin- Sorry I moved the mic too close to my clothes must’ve made a noise
Rex, used to it- I didn’t know cotton could shit itself
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Anakin- My friend once cooked a space raccoon he found on the side of the road. It was pretty kriffen good
Obi-Wan, appalled- What kind of people did your mother let you spend time with?
Anakin- Yea well she didn’t know about this friend
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Padme- You can’t cause any fights I know you don’t like him but it’s the kids birthday. Just keep things civil
Sabe- sure but I can promise you the mug will be meaning
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Anakin- You know I think you could take one thing from this moment
Obi-Wan- That you’re dumber than you look?
Anakin- Okay correction, you can take two things from this moment
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Anakin, madder’n hell- ion know whotha fuck ya think ya are but I’ll tell ya righ nowh I’ll beat yer ass back to Jesus if I’m needin ta
Rex, under his breath- Darn Tootin
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Obi-Wan- None of my relationships have been healthy
Anakin- yeah the older I get the more I realize I’m a victim
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Ahsoka helping Obi-Wan clean Anakin’s room- Shouldn’t we ask him before we do this?
Obi-Wan, full body laughing- Grab the trash bag roll
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Anakin- Would you give me a kidney?
Rex- No I have high-blood pressure because of you.
Anakin- *looking up if that’s a symptom of kidney failure* Yea well you make me sad
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Cody, after Anakin nearly crashed a speeder- You’d think after all these years you’d learn no to get in any type of vehicle with him.
Obi-Wan- I like the thrill of a light pole coming straight for me at breakneck speeds
Anakin- They pop out of nowhere I tell ya
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C3P0- You could be a little supportive
R2-D2- And you could let that get to your head
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dfortrafalgar · 11 hours
Text
I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But now, it might as well be a dream come true.
Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.
Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707
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Chapter 31
[Prev] [Next]
“I… I feel like I need to push,” you grunted out.
Your doctor ran to your bedside.  “Okay, dear, okay, follow my lead, alright?”  She assisted in turning you on your side, adjusting your various tubes to better accommodate your position.  “Like we discussed, okay?  This position will help reduce the pressure on your pelvis and make it much easier to push.”
You nodded, your expression contorting in a grimace as a much stronger contraction ran through you in waves, lingering in your muscles like radiation. Your hands were curled up by your head, lacking anything to hold on to, so you resorted to fisting the white cotton sheets covering the mattress below you.  It felt mildly uncomfortable, but as soon as you were settled, you felt like your muscles were able to work much more effectively.  You breathed out a pained sigh, the pressure in your lower abdomen increasing in waves.
“You’re starting to crown already,” another nurse spoke up.  “Your body is already so primed for delivery!  It’s like you’ve been practicing.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this was your third or fourth baby!”
“I’m going to hold your hand, alright?” your doctor asked, confirming with you on what would make you the most comfortable.  “How bad is your pain?  We can get you started on an epidural.”
“It’s…”  As soon as the contraction ceased, another one followed in its place.  You were outrageously close.  “It’s pretty bad,” you confirmed.
“I’m impressed, when I gave birth to my first, I almost passed out.  The pain was so bad!” one of the nurses at the other side of your room called out.  “You have quite the tolerance!”
You flashed a weak smile.  If only these nurses knew.
Your doctor rubbed your head reassuringly.  She really did feel like a mother in her own right.  “We’ll start that epidural.  Once that’s in place and you’re stable, we’ll begin pushing.  Can I get you anything?”
Your eyes wearily glanced up at her calm, reassuring face.  “I know it’s a long shot but… can you call my husband?”
The second lung was almost fully detached.  Over halfway through the surgery now, it had been much faster and more successful than anyone thought it would be.  Alongside a few breaks that were taken by the staff to relieve themselves and stretch their backs, sterile orange juice breaks sipped through plastic straws, and brief physical therapy for the unconscious patient to make sure his blood continued to circulate properly and his skin wasn’t damaged, the operation was going very, very smoothly.
And thank goodness.  Law needed some good news right now.
Among the beeping sounds of the patient’s heart monitor, the wrrr of the bypass machine, and the soft chatter amongst the team as they worked, a new sound infiltrated the space.  In the farthest corner of the room, Law’s hospital pager went off.
“What was that?” one of the nurses asked.
“My pager,” Law responded.  His voice was laced with anxiety.  He was barely keeping it together, and who knows why his pager might have been going off in the middle of an operation.
The circulating nurse took it upon herself to snatch up the small device, pressing the response button.  The best, or arguably worst, thing about the pagers was how loud they were.  Everyone could hear the voice that came through the other end.
[Dr. Trafalgar Law?  Dr. Trafalgar?]  It was a woman’s voice.
“I’m listening,” he shouted back.  The nurse stepped slightly closer with the pager in her hand.
[This is Nurse Kaya from Labor & Delivery, your wife is crowning.  Just wanted to let you know.]
Spoken far too casually for the news that made Law’s stomach drop like a brick.  He was missing the birth.
“FUCK,” he suddenly shouted, his hands still carefully working at the lung’s connective tissue.  It was as if his body and his mind were on completely different wavelengths.  So much for operating room etiquette.  The air in the room had gone completely cold as nervous glances among the team were shared.
“Doctor, I’m not opposed to relieving you with another on-call surgeon.  I know this is a huge ordeal, but we’re almost done and… this is a special case,” one of the head nurses spoke up.
He was clearly deliberating heavily in his mind.  He wanted to run, carry himself as fast as his feet could handle, and get to your side.  He needed to be there with you.  He was missing the birth of his first child.  A lump developed in his throat.  The protective husband side of him had the stoic, focused surgeon side pinned against the wall with a knife to his throat.
“Get the on-call surgeon here immediately and have him gowned and sterilized,” he finally barked, passing his tools off to his assistant and stepping away from the body.  A few relieved gasps were shared amongst the team as the circulating nurse brought Law out from the theater and into the prep room where she assisted in frantically undressing him from his surgical scrubs and passing his phone and pager back into his possession.  His operating room attire was quickly disposed of in a biohazard waste bin while he quickly washed his hands in the nearby basin.
“Doctor, good luck,” she said with a smile, her eyes crinkling under her mask.
Law could only pass her a faint grin as he shrugged on his white coat, stuffed his phone in the pocket of his slacks, and sprinted out of the prep room.  On the way, the on-call surgeon passed by and planted a reassuring smack to Law’s shoulder before replacing him.
Law was breaking every hospital rule there was.  Sprinting through the hallway, his feet hammering against the tiled ground as he fought his way through the hospital’s expansive campus, past patient rooms, nurses’ stations, and waiting areas.  Why did L&D have to be so far away?!  His eyes followed the signs on the walls pointing him in the right direction, his muscle memory leading the way.  He scaled two flights of stairs two-at-a-time, the muscles in his legs screaming at him to stop.  He was almost positive he would tear a muscle with how fast he was running.  But that didn’t matter.
Finally, finally, he pushed through the doors into the maternity ward, flashing his badge frantically at the nurse behind the check-in desk.  He was panting, barely able to catch his breath, one of his hands shaking as it supported his weight against the desk.
“My… Trafalgar… where… shit…” he panted, beads of sweat pilling on his forehead below his ragged bangs.
“Down the hall, take a left, then a right,” the nurse instructed, her voice pleasantly calm.  She must have seen this a lot.
He barely uttered out a ‘thank you’ before he was off again, pounding down the tiled hallways past delivery and recovery rooms, past the expansive NICU and small groups of families and doctors.  He had tunnel vision.  He needed to get to you.
Take a left.
Then a right.
He almost sprinted past the door to the delivery room you were in, only backtracking when he caught the pained sound of your voice from within.  He flung the door open, nurses surrounding you jumping from shock at the sight.
“Dr. Trafalgar?!” one of them exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Law ignored her.
Your eyes went wide, your hand being held by the doctor who had admitted you.  Tears immediately brimmed in the corners of your vision as a pained smile broke out on your face.  Law took the spot of your doctor instantly, almost throwing himself at you as he littered your face with kisses, grasping your hand and holding in his pain as you squeezed harshly against his bones, the force of another contraction gripping your body.  You were laying on your side, one of your knees tucked upward toward your chest as far as you could manage to allow the baby more room to come out.  You had an epidural tube sticking out of your spine, your upper body barely covered by blankets and the open-back hospital gown to accommodate for the birth.
“You made it…” you wheezed, torn between the attention on your husband and the baby coming out of you.
“I couldn’t miss it… I couldn’t…” he wheezed.  He was still very winded, his lungs shuddering for breaths.  Any longer and he would’ve been the one needing a dual pulmonary transplant.
“Ready for another push?” shouted one of the nurses at your bedside above the noise.
You nodded, biting your lower lip.  Your face was glistening with sweat.  Your body tensed up, gripping Law’s hand like a lifeline as you pushed, a pained groan emanating from deep within your throat as your eyes pinched shut.
“How is she doing?” demanded Law, gazing at the doctor who took her spot at the end of your bed where your legs were parted.
“She’s doing great, both babies are in cephalic position, her blood pressure is good and her heart rate is even better, it’s unlikely she’ll need emergency intervention.  I’m incredibly pleased considering her medical history,” the older doctor explained.  “Come over here.”
Law gazed at you, a fond smile on your lips as you released his hand so he could join his extended colleague at the foot of your bed.
“Delivering on her side helps lessen the pressure on her body as well as the baby’s,” the woman explained.
Law’s breath caught in his throat.  Emerging from you was a head of fuzzy black hair, slicked with amniotic fluid.  One of the nurses called for another push, and your lower body tensed up, your muscles clenching as hard as they could while you pushed the baby out more.  Law quickly returned to your side, grasping your hand once more.
“Baby… how are you doing?” he asked, desperate for your personal opinion, his lungs finally settling as he took in your exhausted appearance.
You grimaced.  “The epidural has been helping, but it hurt like a bitch going in,” you groaned.  “I’ve been having contractions since 2 in the morning.  I just want them to be out already.”
“Once the head is delivered, the rest will be easy!” one of the nurses called, a bright smile on her face.
Law felt himself smile as well.  Being a delivery nurse must have been incredibly rewarding on the best days.  He glanced at the clock on the far wall.  It was almost 10 in the evening.  His heart panged in his chest.
“You’re doing amazing, baby, you’re amazing,” he whispered in your ear, planting another kiss against the soft, sweat-soaked skin of your forehead.
“One more push, dear!” the doctor called.
Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles contracting with all your might at the count of the nurses assisting you, your hand clamping down on Law’s.  He held in his grimace of pain, supporting you as best he could.  Some slight hand bruises were nothing compared to what you were experiencing.  How chivalrous of him.
A sudden rushing feeling emanated from your body, a wet sensation prickling your skin through the numbness of the epidural.  Your heart rate picked up, your eyes growing wide as you worriedly asked, “What was that?!”
“Your water broke, dear!  Everything’s alright!” a nurse responded.
You moaned in pain.  “It’s about damn time.”  Your grip on Law’s hand released slightly, and you watched as a small smile appeared on his lips.
With one more push, the pressure in your groin finally dissipated somewhat as a nurse pulled your first baby out of you.  With the collapse of the amniotic sacs, it was much easier to deliver the rest of its body, much to your relief.  As soon as the contractions stopped, however, they began again.
“Keep going, darling, just one more to go!” the doctor called.  “It’s right there!”
You barely had the energy to pick your head up to look, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as Law examined the nurses huddled around your baby at the foot of your bed.  It was placed in a small portable incubator, being hooked up to machines to assess its condition.  35 weeks was still pretty early, so it made sense.  Its umbilical cord was clamped about two minutes after emerging from your womb.  Law tried to keep his anxiety repressed as your body shuddered with another contraction.
“The second baby is always easier, darling, you’re already fully dilated from the first,” explained your doctor, giving a reassuring pat to your ankle.
“First baby’s stable!” called one of the nurses.  “It’s a girl!”
Law felt his chest clench at the news.  His eyes lit up as he gazed at you, a smile pulling on his lips.  A weary smile formed on your own face as you were instructed to push once again.  Much to the room’s relief, the second baby did indeed come out much quicker than the first.  The loss of the amniotic fluid from your uterus and the stretching that your pelvis had endured with the first made it worlds easier for your second baby to emerge into the world.  The process repeated- a quick cleaning, a clamp after two minutes, and a quick check of vital signs.
“Another girl!” one of the nurses called, assessing the second in another small incubator.  “Also stable!”
You were helped onto your back in somewhat of a hurry, the two boxes containing your babies pushed toward your bedside where they were quickly gathered in bundles of blankets and placed on your chest.  It was all happening so fast, the world was practically blurring around you.  As soon as your babies touched your skin, it was as if a deep-rooted instinct emerged from you.  Law watched with pride as you nestled your newborns into your chest, your gentle hands holding their backs as they took in their first breaths as living humans.
Holy shit.
The room had quickly gone quiet around the four of you, a few of the nurses cleaning you up and reviewing your condition while additional nurses left the room to prepare suitable beds in the NICU for your newborns.  Even though they were both healthy and stable, they needed some extra time to grow.
“Law…?” you asked weakly, turning your head to look at your husband.
Law’s golden eyes were wide, frozen, large, salty tears streaming silently down his cheeks.  His chin was quivering as he gazed over you.  His three girls.
His girls.  He had two daughters.
Your husband huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a weary sob as he moved closer to you, stroking your head with his hand as he gazed warmly over the two tiny bodies on your chest, making their first contact with their mother.  He wiped his eyes clumsily with the sleeve of his white coat, inhaling a gross-sounding sniffle through his nose.
“I’m sorry I’m crying…” he blubbered.
“Don’t be…” you replied, your own tears welling in your eyes.  “You’re finally a daddy.  I’m happy you’re crying.”  You quietly laughed as Law reached forward with his hand, wiping your tears away from your cheeks, followed by another tender kiss against your jaw.
A nurse quickly stopped by your bedside, slipping small white cotton hats onto the tiny noggins of your daughters before leaving the four of you alone for a few more moments.  The skin-to-skin time was crucial for their attachment to you, and once that was established, they’d be able to go into the NICU for their extra care.
Both of the girls, despite being only around 35 weeks, had near-full heads of hair.  It made you wonder what they would have looked like being born at full-term.  The one over your left breast had tiny black curls that still stuck to her head.  The one over your right breast had thinner, straighter wisps of a lighter brown color.  They’d come into their own in a few more months as they grew, but even just from first looks, they were both clearly their father’s daughters.
The minutes following the birth were quite nasty if one were to ask you.  Law thought they were an interesting few moments, but you weren’t listening to him.  He was biased.  And frankly, you hated the way it felt when two placentas ejected themselves from your body.  It was like having another two babies but slimier and worse.
Your epidural was removed and you were cleaned up and helped into a cotton gown to rest in.  Your legs were weak from your long labor, but you were rewarded with some light food that didn’t taste like hospital sludge.  The third best piece of news you received was that, by some miracle, you didn’t tear a bit, and your uterus had completely and successfully done its job.
Finally.
You passed out very soon after your placentas were delivered, exhausted and completely spent after delivering two babies.
Law took the opportunity to retreat to the NICU and oversee his daughters as they were hooked up to breathing tubes and heart monitors to ensure that their good conditions remained that way.  They had their hand prints and foot prints taken by gentle nurses who were cooing over how cute they were, a sight that brought a smile to Law’s eyes.
“Dr. Trafalgar,” the voice of the doctor who oversaw your delivery shook him from his blissful state.  “Congratulations.”
“Dr. Linlin,” he replied as he turned to face her, shaking her hand.  “It’s good to see you.  Thank you for everything.”
“No need to thank me, dear,” she hummed.  “I’m a veteran of the motherhood game.  It’s all in a day’s work for me.  I’m so glad to see you happy and healthy, and with a wife even.  I remember the first day I met you, that skinny, scared looking post-grad doctor forced to speak in front of a huge crowd.”
Law groaned, rolling his eyes as the memory.  “One of the worst days of my life, for sure.”
The woman laughed, a hearty, bouncy chuckle.  She hadn’t changed a bit in the 20-some-odd years, probably even longer, that she had been a doctor.  “But look at you now.  A huge, monumental surgery, and now twins.  All in one day.”
“I’m going to sleep for centuries after all of this settles,” he added with a small smirk.  “After helping my wife, obviously.”
Dr. Linlin gave Law a hearty smack on his back, right in between his shoulders, making him lurch forward slightly.  “Your daughters will stay in the NICU for 24 hours for observation, and then they’ll be transferred to stay with the two of you in postpartum.  Let me know if you need anything, alright?  In a few hours, I’ll be back in your room to help you two sign the birth certificates.”
Law watched as the woman walked down the hall, her own bright pink doctor’s coat trailing behind her.  One of the only things Law knew about Linlin was the amount of kids she had.  It seemed like she popped out one every year, and yet she still had the time to be a labor and delivery doctor.  He shook his head, trying to ignore the logistics of it, before walking back to the postpartum room you had been transferred to.
You were awake and staring at the ceiling above you, your hands clasped around your belly.  You were still quite swollen, having been told that it would take a bit for your stomach to return to its pre-pregnant state, but you were already trying to come to terms with the fact that you would most likely never look exactly the same ever again.  Not after carrying and shoving out two humans.  When Law entered your quiet room, you smiled, all your anxieties melting away at the sight of your husband.
He wasted no time in crossing the space between you, leaning over you to plant a loving kiss against your lips.  All the emotions he had been holding in throughout the day, all the tension that arose during his mad dash through the hospital, and all the worries that the two of you had shared during your pregnancy struggles flooded between your exchange.  One of your hands traveled up to caress his cheek, your fingers trailing across his sideburns and into his slightly greasy black hair, pulling him ever closer to you.
“I’m happy you didn’t tear, or need anything else, really,” he whispered, pulling away from you.  “After everything you went through, you needed an easy birth.”
You grinned.  “I like to think our two other babies, somewhere out there in the universe, wanted it to be easy for us.  For once.”
Law pulled up a chair and sat beside you, leaning against your bed and dropping his head onto your shoulder.  You gently caressed your fingers through his hair in the way you knew he loved, watching with a fond smile as his eyes closed.
“What did they say about the NICU?” you asked, your voice tired and weary.
“24 hours.  Then they’ll be transferred here to stay with us.”  Law kissed your hand cheek.  “They’ll be eligible for discharge after they’re able to eat, stay warm, and breathe efficiently.”
“Speaking of which,” you stated, slowly moving yourself to sit up despite the aches in your bones.  “I pumped for the first time when you were looking at them.”
“How quick were you?” he asked with a joking tone.  “I didn’t think I was gone for that long.”
“It didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but I also didn’t need to give that much milk.  One of the nurses helped me, and they’ll be able to feed them in the NICU.  At some point in another hour or so, though, she told me I’ll have to visit them there so we can make sure they can latch on their own.”  One of your hands traveled up to painfully grab at one of your breasts.  “I’m already feeling so achy in my chest.  It’s gonna be a rough few months.”
Law grinned, dipping his head back down.  “But you’ll have help.  Don’t forget that.”
You hummed in response.  “You’re right.”
After a few extra moments of silence, you added.  “Names?”
“Hm?”
You chuckled.  “Names.  We have to name our girls.”
“Oh shit, you’re right,” Law muttered.  He had completely forgotten one of the most important parts of being a new parent.  “What were you thinking?”
“Cora and Rose,” you said, matter-of-factly.  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.  And now we know they’re both girls.”
Law smiled, a rare, genuine expression that reached his eyes.  A smile he only ever showed you.  “Cora and Rose… which one is which?”
“Rose is the one with those little black curls.  Cora is the one with the lighter hair,” you confirmed.
Another tender kiss was planted on your forehead.  “I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.”
You didn’t expect breastfeeding to be as euphoric as it was.  In less of an immense pleasure way, and more of a ‘holy crap, it feels like my breasts are losing 25 pounds’ kind of way.
Your girls were already so good.  Cora latched instantly, one of her tiny, weak hands curling slightly upward to grasp at your skin.  Both of them were still curled in a fetal position, and it would take them a bit longer to finally stretch out and look more like usual babies, but right now, they were the perfect size to swaddle and nestle into your skin.
The neonatal intensive care unit was a surprisingly colorful place.  You always imagined it would be rife with anxiety, desperation, and sadness, a bunch of little, sick babies fighting for their lives, but the second you and Law finally entered to see your daughters, all those expectations flew out the window.  Their corner was bright and colorful, with rainbows painting the walls and a fairly large window with a view of the surrounding city below.  It was pitch black out, just past midnight, but you imagined the daylight would flood the room with a warm, natural light.
Your daughters were already so warm, kept insulated by their little cotton swaddles they were bundled in, and their tiny beanie hats that covered their fragile heads.  The sight warmed your heart.
A breastfeeding specialist (which was a job you had no idea existed until then), helped situate you in a chair, accommodating your sore and spent body.  She assisted with adequately positioning your daughters, one for each nipple, and gave you tips on how to make sure they latch and stay on while nursing from you.
You had an additional blood test a few hours after the birth, when your girls were done with their first natural feed and were now sleeping calmly in their incubators.  It was looking like you’d be able to go home within the next 24 hours, if everything continued as normal.
While you were taking a light nap in the chair beside your daughters’ beds, Law used your phone to snap some pictures of Cora and Rose in their tiny beds side by side, smiling as he pulled up your text messages and sent them off to Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku.  He didn’t think they’d respond, with it being so late, but their messages rolled in almost instantly, bringing a fond smile to his face.
Ika-chan OMGOGMOGMGOMGOMGOGMOGMGOGMOMG
Ika-chan TWO LITTLE GIRLS
Ika-chan ARE THEY HEALTHY????????
Ika-chan ARE *YOU* HEALTHY?????????????
Shachiiii Still cant believe those things came out of you whatthefuck
Shachiiii Must have hurt like a mf
PenPen Shachi’s next to me sobbing his eyes out
PenPen I’m crying too.  But I’m stronger than him
PenPen Fuck no im not.  Im soaked over here.  
It was then that his pager beeped.  He forgot he still had it on him.  Technically, he was still on the clock.  He gently placed your phone on the small table beside you to not wake you up before reaching into his coat pocket and procuring his pager, stepping out into the hallway to not disturb his three sleeping beauties.
“This is Dr. Trafalgar,” he said into the small device.
Some slight static came through the speaker.  [Hey, this is Operation Triple Organ Replacement calling in from the OR!  How’s our best doctor doing?]
Law couldn’t fight the smile that formed on his lips.  “Before I answer, how was the rest of the procedure?”
Some small chuckles and a few mildly annoyed groans were heard.  [Patient did absolutely amazing.  He’s in recovery, stable, and is slowly being woken from anesthesia.  They’ll be able to take his intubation tube out in a few more hours, but that’s out of our hands.  Soooo…?]
Law felt relief fill his lungs.  A successful operation was everything he was hoping for, and now he felt he could finally rest easy.  “I have two daughters, Cora and Rose.  Everyone is happy, healthy, and resting.”
He needed to pull the pager away from his face as a cacophony of garbled cheering was heard.  A distorted [FUCK YEAH] echoed through the speaker.
“Are you guys still in the pre-op room?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
[Yeah, we’re all cleaned up and everything, but we were waiting for the right time to page you.  We’re abusing hospital equipment, we know, but this is CRUCIAL.]
Law couldn’t blame his team in the slightest.  It was past midnight on May 13th, and they had just completed the biggest surgical procedure of their lives, probably the most daunting surgery their hospital would ever see.  They deserved to rest and relax, and yet here they were, still in the pre-op theater, celebrating their lead doctor.  
The black-haired surgeon smiled, pressing down on the transmission button with his thumb.  “You guys go clean up, alright?  Treat yourselves.  Everyone did absolutely amazing today.”
[Copy that, Doctor.  Tell your wife we said congrats!]
Law slipped the pager back into his pocket before reentering the NICU room.  His stern, golden eyes softened instantly upon seeing you awake, leaning over the side of Rose’s bed and idly trailing your thumb softly over her chubby cheek.  Beside Rose, Cora’s arms were already outstretched far enough that she was almost encroaching on her sister’s space.  Soon enough, the small oxygen tubes taped to their fresh faces would be gently removed, and they’d be able to go home and sleep in their cribs, in your apartment.  Law leaned over you and kissed the crown of your head, rubbing his inked hand between your shoulder blades.
“Hey, baby?” he whispered, gazing down at you.
You leaned into his side, melting at his touch.  “Yeah?”
“I’m so proud of you.”
58 notes · View notes
makeitmingi · 14 hours
Text
The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 37]
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Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy
Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho
Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?
Word count: 3.2K
Chapter warning(s): Reader has a little meltdown/ anxiety. Read at your own discretion!
"Mr and Mrs Jeong." You greeted Yunho's parents outside the restaurant.
"Ah, drop the formalities, sweetie! I already told you to call us abonim and omonim. You're practically family!" Mrs Jeong pointed to her husband then herself, holding your hands in hers. You nodded with head, feeling some heat in your cheeks. There was so much love in her smile as she stared at you.
"And you look so beautiful as always!" She pulled you in for a surprise hug. You recovered quickly from the surprise, lifting your arms to hug her back.
"Okay, omma. That's enough." Yunho cleared his throat and gently pulled you back to his side.
"Oh, don't be so possessive son." Mrs Jeong clicked her tongue in disapproval, seeing how Yunho was holding you.
"Our table is ready, let's go in." Gunho informed. You smiled and waved to Gunho, who waved back with a friendly smile that made him look like Yunho.
"No, she's mine." Yunho squinted his eyes at his younger brother, moving you to stand behind him.
"Yun, what are you talking about?" You chuckled.
"You called him cute the first time you saw him at the restaurant. No, even worse, you thought he was cuter than me!" Yunho argued, pointing to Gunho, who just blinked in confusion. You can't believe Yunho remembers that.
"And until now, you still haven't told me that I'm cuter and better than him." He pouted at you. Gunho scoffed at his older brother before heading into the restaurant.
"You're the cutest and bestest to me, alright?" You cooed. He nodded with a goofy smile and leaned down to give you a kiss.
"We better go in." You said and walked into the restaurant with Yunho. It was a cute French bistro.
"Have you been here before?" Yunho leaned over to ask you softly as the two of you sat down in your seats and were handed menus by the wait staff.
"Just because I'm a chef, doesn't mean I know every restaurant, Yun." You laughed as you scanned through the menu.
"They have boeuf bourguignon! I know what that is." Yunho pointed at the menu. That dish had a special place in yours and Yunho's hearts, it was the first time you invited him over to your house and cooked for him. And Yunho will always find endearing how you fell asleep on the couch.
"Are you getting that?" You asked.
"Nope. I'll forever only have the one you cook." Yunho shook his head. You pursed your lips at him.
"Yun, don't say that. And who knows, they may make it better." You shrugged but Yunho was stubborn, shaking his head and looking at the other menu items.
"Have you decided what you're having?" Yunho leaned over.
"I'm thinking between the bouillabaisse, which is a seafood stew, and coq au vin, the chicken mushroom red wine dish." You told him.
"That does sound good... Since I'm not having the beef dish, I'll order the coq au vin. You can order the seafood stew and we'll share it?" He suggested with much excitement.
"You don't have to, Yun..." You smiled softly.
"I'm not sacrificing anything by ordering that. I'm sure they're both good." He smiled. There was no arguing with him so you nodded in agreement. You didn't know that Yunho's parents were looking at the two of you endearingly.
After giving your orders to the waiter, Mr Jeong ordered a bottle of wine and offered you a glass. Yunho wasn't drinking since he drove but you felt bad for turning down a glass.
"Cheers." Mrs Jeong toasted and everyone clinked their glasses before taking sips of their wine, water for Yunho.
"Actually, Mr and Mrs Jeong. I wanted to apologise to you." You spoke, putting your glass down.
"Apologise to us? What for?" Mr Jeong asked, blinking. Mrs Jeong tilted her head in puzzlement and even Yunho gave you a curious look, having heard this the first time.
"The other time we met, I apologise for leaving the party aburptly without a proper goodbye." You explained.
"Oh! That. Don't be sorry, silly. It didn't even occur to us." Mrs Jeong said.
"Still, it was rude of me and-"
"We understand, dear. Really." She cut you off with a soft smile, one that only a mother can give. You nodded with a grateful smile of your own. A lot of people knew what your father and your relationship with him was like, it wasn't a surprise that you didn't get along, especially with your stepfather.
"It wasn't your fault." Yunho said to you with a small frown, holding your hand over his thigh. You sent him a soft smile, knowing he really hates your father. Who doesn't?
"So, (y/n), tell me what it's like dating my brother." Thankfully, Gunho changed the subject.
"Yah, Jeong Gunho..." Yunho gave his brother a threatening glance.
"It's been great, actually. Yunho treats me very well, he takes care of me and is very patient with me." You said with a giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up. You were not used to expressing yourself like this.
"That's good. He better be taking care of you." Mr Jeong raised an eyebrow at Yunho.
"He is, I'm very thankful." You smiled.
"See? You two raised me well, I know how to take care of my partner." Yunho scoffed but had a proud smile on his face, hearing you speak so highly of him.
"Sometimes he's an overgrown, excited puppy, isn't he?" Mrs Jeong asked you. You stifled a laugh, nodding in agreement.
"I thought I was the only one that saw his puppy-likeness. Right from the start." You said between your laughs. Yunho stared at you with a done look, knowing you were always trying to push his golden retriever agenda.
"You're not the only one. Don't worry, we know what you're talking about." She smiled.
"Him and Gunho have been puppy siblings from the start. Even the way they used to fight as kids or now too, they're like litter mates chewing on each other." Mr Jeong chuckled.
"Appa~" The two brothers whined in embarrassment.
When the food was all served, you all dug in, starting with the appetisers that were ordered then the main course.
"How is it?" You asked Yunho as he cut into the chicken. He melted against your shoulder, letting out little sounds of happiness at the taste of the dish.
"That's good." You laughed, breaking a small piece of bread to dip into the stew and offered it to him.
"Thank you." He leaned forward and ate the bread that you were holding out. He pointed at your dish and nodded in approval.
"This is all so good, I love it. I can't decide which is my favourite." Yunho said, making you and his parents laugh. Even though you fed Yunho, Mrs Jeong noticed that Yunho cut a small piece of chicken and let you use your own fork to pick it up for a taste, respecting how you found such PDA awkward.
"It's good, isn't it?" Yunho nudged you lightly as you covered your mouth to chew.
"It is, it's done very well. One of the better coq au vins I've had here." You said. Yunho smiled, happy to know you like the dish even if he wasn't the one that cooked it.
"You're smiling like you're the one that cooked it." Gunho joked.
"Yeah, well I ordered it so it counts." Yunho stuck his tongue out at his younger brother.
"After (y/n) recommended it." Mr Jeong piled on.
"You're all bullying me, I don't like this." Yunho sulked. You chuckled and patted his thigh, with a comforting smile. They moved on to talk about other things, making sure you were included always.
"Excuse me, I need to use the loo." You forced a smile and excused yourself with a bow of your head. You entered the individual toilet and locked the door behind you, leaning against the door and letting out a shaky breath.
It suddenly became overwhelming for you, you didn't know why. Seeing Yunho's happy family. When was the last time you sat down to eat with your family without fighting?
But this isn't about you and your pitiful life. This was you getting to know your boyfriend's loving family, being accepted by them and-
*KNOCK KNOCK*
"O-Occupied!" You stuttered out, standing straight.
"It's me." You heard Yunho's voice on the other side and unlocked the door. Before you could say anything, Yunho made his way in, making you step back.
"Yun, you shouldn't be in here. People may think we're up to no good." You tried to pass it off as a laugh or joke.
"Are you okay?" He stared down at you, a frown of worry on his face. You looked up at him and nodded your head. He tucked your hair behind your ear, he wasn't convinced by your answer.
"Seriously, I'm okay. Don't worry, we shouldn't worry your parents by being away for too long." You said, putting an assuring hand on his arm. You didn't want Yunho to feel the need to comfort you again, it's what he is always doing. And that just makes all the guilt and doubt creep up your throat.
"Stop." He grasped your wrist and tugged you to him, hugging you to his chest tightly. You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth and security of his hug.
"I love your family. They're so nice, you're lucky to have them." You said, words muffled slightly by his hug as you clutched onto him.
"And they love you too. They're your family as much as they are mine, okay?" He whispered, rubbing your back.
"I swear, I'm not jealous or anything about your family, Yunho. I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry. I'm just petty and clinging onto what could have been..." You shook your head.
"Which you have every right to so don't apologise." He held your chin and tilted your head up.
"I love you." He spoke.
"I love you too." You replied with a soft smile, letting him lean down to give you a kiss. Yunho was too kind for his own good but you loved him and didn't want to let him go. When the both of you pulled away, you leaned against his chest.
"Sorry, I didn't think the first time I'll tell you I love you would be in the bathroom of a restaurant." Yunho chuckled.
"Don't worry about it, this isn't the first time." You replied with a giggle. Yunho pulled back to give a questioning look, not knowing what you were referring to.
"Yesterday in your drunken stupor, you told me you loved me. Then told me you loved the cake I made." You explained to him.
"I-I did?" He stuttered, his cheeks turning red as he facepalmed. You nodded your head.
"Oh god. Why didn't you mention this to me?" His head fell onto your shoulder. All you did was continue to laugh, wrapping your arms around his head.
"You were too cute. But we should really go." You said to him, stroking his cheek. He nodded and straightened up.
"Wait, before we go back..." He quickly stole another kiss before opening the door to let you through, making your eyes widen in shock. Yunho walked behind you as you headed back to the table. The first thing you did was bow and apologise to Yunho's family for disappearing for so long.
"No worries. Shall we get dessert?" Mrs Jeong asked, not making you feel embarrassed or anything, playing it off as a minor issue. You hummed and looked at the menu.
"So, what's good?" Yunho, once again, leaned over to ask you.
"I'm not telling you." You snickered and hid your face behind your menu, playfully leaning away from him.
"But (y/n)~ I wanna share with you." Yunho whined, continuing to lean into you until he was practically draped over you while you were laying on the couch of the booth.
"Yunho! Let the poor girl go before you squish her." Mrs Jeong scolded her son.
"What can I get you all for dessert?" The waiter came. Yunho cast a look over to you, waiting for you to order.
"We'll share a crêpes suzette and and a slice of tarte tartin." You ordered with a small chuckle, you gave in to Yunho too easily. The waiter nodded and took the other orders before leaving. Mr Jeong chuckled, shaking his head.
"Do you always give in to him so easily?" He raised an eyebrow. His smile indicated that he was joking.
"Can't help it... I guess we just give into each other a lot. Sometimes without knowing too." You smiled with a casual shrug. Yunho nodded in agreement.
When the desserts were served, all of you shared your desserts. Mr Jeong had a small glass of digestif orujo (Spanish after dinner drink of alcohol, most likely Spanish brandy, served in a shot)
"See? Trusting you chef taste is good." Yunho said happily, eating a piece of the crepe.
"Grand marnier, an orange liquor is poured over and lit up. This is one of Jongho's favourite desserts actually." You told him.
"Would you like a glass?" Mr Jeong offered.
"Oh, no. I'm good, abonim. Thank you for offering." You shook your head, not wanting to take anymore strong alcohol. You took a bite of tarte tartin that was served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream then pushed your plate closer to Yunho for him to take a scoop off your plate to try.
"Can you make this? I like it." Yunho pointed to your tarte tartin.
"Sure, Yunho. I'll make it next time you come over and you can use different fruits too, whatever is in season." You laughed. Yunho clapped his hands excitedly.
After all the desserts and conversations were done, Mr Jeong raised his hand to ask the waiter for the bill.
"Actually, Mr Jeong, if it's okay with you, I would like to pay for dinner." You offered. Yunho's parents looked at you with wide eyes.
"What? Nonsense, (y/n). We appreciate it but we can't let you pay! Ah... how about, next time, you cook dinner for us instead?" Mrs Jeong waved you off with a giggle.
"That's a promise." You smiled. Once the bill was paid, you all headed out.
"Thank you so much for tonight, it has been great. I had a great time and the food was amazing." You said to all of them.
"Aww, you're most welcome, (y/n). We have to do this again soon, okay? Don't stay away for too long." Mrs Jeong pulled you into a tight hug. You melted in her hold, closing your eyes as you savoured the feeling of a mother's hug.
"Any time you need anything, let us know." Mr Jeong gave you a fatherly smile and tucked you to his side for a brief hug, just like how Yunho always did.
"I will, thank you. Have a good night, omonim and abonim." You smiled. You waved to Gunho, who waved back with a bright grin.
"Bye, (y/n)~" Gunho sang as he waved. Yunho glared at his brother but still gave him a goodbye hug.
As you all parted ways for the night, you and Yunho decided to go for a short walk at a nearby park before heading home. The weather was nice to spend some quiet time with Yunho.
"So, what did you think of tonight? I know my family can be... enthusiastic..." Yunho asked.
"They're great, I love them and I'm glad I got to know them better, especially your mother." You said, taking a seaton the bench.
"Yeah, she's a little... excited... to have a daughter to hang out with and do girly things together. You don't have to give in." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck. You shook your head, you were happy to spend time with Yunho's mother, it would be like all the time you could have had with your own mother.
"Actually, I-"
*meow*
"What's wrong?" Yunho tilted his head when you stopped talking mid way. You turned your head, looking around for the source of the sound. It was faint but you could hear it.
"You didn't hear that? Like a 'meow' or something..." You frowned, having heard it again.
"No, I don't hear anything. Or is there only a wavelength cats can hear each other on?" Now it was Yunho's turn to tease you.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny, turning the tables on me." You scoffed. You stood up, walking to where you heard the sound. Yunho curiously followed behind you.
"(y/n), be careful." Yunho warned. You stooped in front of some bushes, pushing them aside. Behind them, there was a small cardboard box. But before you could open it, Yunho grasped your arm to stop you.
"It's fine, Yun." You laughed and opened the box. It was hard to see so you used the torch on your phone to see.
There, in the corner of the box, a black kitten was curled up. It looked up and stared back at you with big green eyes. Yunho, with longer limbs, reached in to help you bring the box out.
"Look at you, poor thing." You gently reached out to stroke the kitten's head.
"Should we take him or her... out of the box?" Yunho abruptly reached in to try and grab the kitten.
"Oww! It scratched me." Yunho recoiled with a hiss of pain, looking at the little lines that the kitten left on his hand. Thankfully, it wasn't deep enough to bleed.
"You can't just reach in and grab it, Yun. Be gentle, you probably spooked the poor thing." You said.
In the end, Yunho helped carry the entire box with the kitten in it to his car. But he didn't want you to have it on your lap since it was dirty from being on the floor for god knows how long. So you coaxed the the kitten out and wrapped it in your jacket. You sat in the passenger seat with it in your lap.
"So what do we do with the little guy?... Or girl..." Yunho asked, leaning on his steering wheel.
"Well, we can't just leave it out there. It's just a baby, it won't survive." You sighed. The kitten snuggled into the warmth of your jacket, closing its eyes.
"Let's get some cat food and bring it home for a bit to get it warm." Yunho suggested.
"Okay, you hold onto it. It seems to like you more." Yunho said. But before he could start the engine to drive, you let the kitten go over.
"See? It likes you too. Just don't be too abrupt when handling him." You giggled, seeing the kitten curiously sniff Yunho as it balanced on the middle console of the car.
"Just hold onto it! I can't drive with a kitten in my lap." Yunho burst out laughing, gently patting the head of the kitten.
"Come here, the big doggy man is too scary, huh?" You cooed to the kitten while Yunho rolled his eyes and began to drive to the nearest pet store that was still open. The kitten comfortably curled up in your jacket again.
"Don't worry, you won't be alone again." You smiled softly.
~
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When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 3
A/N: when I heard that today's @nestaarcheronweek prompt was wolf, I just knew I had to do some more werewolf Cassian 😉 Sorry this update has been a long time coming, but I promise this chapter is a good one! Hope everyone enjoys!
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Nesta
Nesta supposes she shouldn’t be surprised when she wakes alone.
She certainly didn’t expect to wake within some sort of lover’s embrace. It was clear last night that her and Cassian’s marriage was nothing more than duty, he to his pack and she to her family. But still…
With a soft sigh, she shifts and rolls over beneath the blankets, reaching a hand out and finding nothing but cold sheets. Early riser or didn’t even bother to stay the night? With another huff she sits up, rubbing the final remnants of sleep from her eyes. The room and the cabin doesn’t look much different in the light of day. The rays of sunlight spill in through the windows, painting patterns across the blankets and turning the wood beams of the ceiling into amber.
It could almost be described as homey if it weren’t for the frigid, cloying air still clinging to the room from the previous night.
Pushing the blankets off her legs, Nesta climbs off the bed. She starts to pad over to her trunks before a thought strikes her, her eyes dancing toward the bedroom door. Cassian made it clear last night that he doesn’t trust her, so does that mean he would lock her in? Keep his new wife locked away in the tower?
She steels her spine and stalks toward the door, hesitating for just a moment with her hand outstretched in front of her. Slowly, her fingers curl around the knob, but thankfully, there’s no resistance as she twists. Unlocked. Small consolations.
Shaking her head, Nesta spins on her heel and returns to preparing for the day. With running hot water and no one around, she dares to take another long bath. Loathe she is to admit it, there’s a lingering ache between her thighs, a delicious soreness to her muscles as she stretches out beneath the water. She tips her head back against the lip of the tub and closes her eyes, breathing deeply.
As much as she’d like to, Nesta knows she can’t hide in the warmth and safety of a bath all day. This is her life now, Archeron or not. This is her life here. She’s married to the alpha, a member of this pack even if they don’t fully trust or accept her. A witch amongst wolves.
Heaving herself out of the bath, Nesta finishes readying for the day and steps out of the bedroom. The rest of the cabin is just as quiet, but she pads her way into the kitchen. It takes some rooting around in the cupboards, but she’s able to find everything she needs to prepare a cup of tea, the strong taste and warmth of the drink at least helping to soothe some of the knots twisting around in her stomach.
It’s only when she settles at the small, wooden kitchen table that she notices the letter, her name scrawled across the page in familiar, crisp cursive. She snatches it up, flipping it over quickly. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised to find the wax seal already broken, but annoyance flares like low burning embers in her chest nonetheless. She opens the letter and skims through her mother’s words. It’s all polite and basic, reporting on her sisters, inquiring if she’s settled, but she notices the ink pressed into the right, bottom corner.
A crow.
Nesta pushes to her feet and finds a candle, placing it on the kitchen table and lighting it. She holds the letter over the flickering flame until the ink swirls, bleeding to the edge of the paper and melting away into nothing. She closes her eyes and says the incantation quietly beneath her breath before blowing across the page, revealing the ink and message hidden beneath.
A meeting.
It’s a meeting request that Nesta is sure was also sent to both of her sisters. No new husbands though, a meeting of just the Archeron ladies. Cassian is already suspicious of her, so she’ll have to figure out an excuse that will allow her to attend. A problem for her to work out later. For now, Nesta holds the letter over the candle again, this time until the corner of the parchment catches, the entire letter going up in flames.
She returns to her tea, the cup almost drained when the front door of the cabin swings open, Cassian striding inside. He’s dressed in surprisingly casual attire, a loose shirt tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to expose the lines of tattoo and golden skin of his forearms. His hair is pulled back and piled into a bun at the back of his head.
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” Cassian says in way of greeting. He gestures with his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Nesta crosses her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow and refusing to move. “I did sleep well. Thanks so much for asking.”
“You want to do fucking pleasantries?” Cassian scoffs, shaking his head.
“Oh, but dear husband, how did you sleep?” Nesta asks, offering a saccharine smile. The sight of Cassian’s lips pulling back in a snarl has it building into a full blown smirk.
“Do you want to see the village or not?”
“I’m surprised you’d allow a witch such free range around your pack.”
“If you’d prefer, we can stay here and continue our marital duties,” Cassian offers, his tone derisive, the golds of his hazel eyes practically sparking with the challenge.
Nesta’s smile drops away. “Fuck you.”
“Are you sore this morning, sweetheart? I’d be willing to bet that was the first time a prim princess like you has taken a real cock.”
“You wish,” Nesta growls, finally pushing to her feet just so she can glower at Cassian.
She wants to hate the way he doesn’t balk from her ire, the way his smirk almost seems to twitch and grow at her response. The way the golds of his hazel eyes practically spark at the challenge. The sight has Nesta’s scowl deepening, her mind grasping for a way to wipe that stupid expression off his face. Perhaps, she’ll threaten to curse him with impotence.
“Going to curse me, sweetheart?” Cassian drawls, raising an eyebrow and all but daring her.
Nesta refuses to let the surprise at him reading her so easily show. “You’re not even worth the waste of magic.”
Cassian snorts quietly, gesturing with his head again. “Are you coming or not?”
With a quiet huff, Nesta takes a moment to straighten out the skirts of her dress, striding right past Cassian and out the door. The village certainly looks different beneath the sun, and from this vantage point atop the hill, Nesta can see the various members of the pack milling about. There’s a group of women, baskets full of vegetables on their arms, a group of young men unloading crates from a wagon, and children running around. There’s even a few members of the pack moving about in their wolf forms.
Cassian leads the way down into the heart of the village, pointing out different places for her as they walk. The hall where the pack council meetings are held. The market square. The butcher and the bakery.
It’s almost strange the way everyone is so friendly and open with Cassian, smiling and greeting him as he passes, the way he gives the same energy back. It’s clear that he’s a beloved alpha, clear that he cares just as much for his people. It makes it all the more awkward the way everyone eyes her suspiciously, whispers of witchcraft swirling in her periphery.
They come to a stop in some sort of clearing between the trees. Circles are carved into the ground, creating three rings, and Nesta spies who she remembers are Cassian’s second and third sparring in one of them. Wooden dummies are set up along the other end of the clearing, wooden and steel weapons beside them. A group of young boys and girls alike run through a series of maneuvers, a woman with pure white braids along her back leading them through the steps.
Cassian whistles, and his second and third both snap their attention toward them, practically pausing mid swing. The woman gives the man one final shove, as though for good measure, before they’re jogging over. On instinct, Nesta’s spine is straightening, chin pinching higher in preparation.
“Nesta,” Cassian begins. “This is my second, Emerie, and my third, Balthazar.”
“My friends call me Baz,” Balthazar tells her easily, placing a hand on his heart.
“You can call him Balthazar,” Cassian says gruffly. Nesta scoffs and rolls her eyes, but neither Emerie or Balthazar seem to disagree with the order. “And over there is Cresseida. You’ll begin training with her each morning starting tomorrow.”
Nesta doesn’t bother holding back her glare, anger already simmering beneath her skin. “Excuse me?”
“My wife needs to be able to defend herself.”
“What makes you think I don’t know how to defend myself? What do you think I was taught growing up?”
Cassian steps closer into Nesta’s space, the sneer on his face sending her annoyance skyrocketing. “I don’t think you want me to answer that, princess.”
Nesta raises her chin higher to hold his gaze. “Fine. You want me to prove it? I’m more than happy to step in the ring right now.”
“I’m sure we can find a beginner opponent that will be willing for your little demonstration.”
“And miss the opportunity to knock you on your sorry ass?”
Cassian laughs, the sound nothing short of mocking, but he gestures toward the training rings with his arm. “Fine then. After you, Nes.”
Nesta scowls at the nickname, but she stalks forward into one of the three rings. Cassian follows behind her, stepping over the line at the opposite end. They’ve already drawn the attention of the group training, and Nesta is sure that word will quickly blaze through the rest of the village. The witch challenging the alpha.
She’s sure there will be more sneers, more whispers and snide remarks. She’s sure that if her mother could see her now, she’d call Nesta foolish, chide her for letting her emotions get the better of her. But Nesta swore to herself a long time ago that she would never be weak again, and she refuses to let Cassian or his pack see her as such. Alpha or not, marriage sham or not, she intends to meet that fire she’s seen sparking in his eyes head on. Intends to burn just as bright until she wipes that cocksure smile clean off his face.
“I’ve got Cassian in this,” Balthazar murmurs.
“Oh, I’m definitely taking Nesta,” Emerie answers.
Nesta closes her eyes, letting the village, the pack, Cassian, all fade away. She centers herself the way she always has, sinking beneath the rippling waves of her well of power. Even the birdsong around her dampens to nothing, warmth trickling through her veins and pooling in her fingertips. She opens her eyes, allowing the power to swell to the surface, knowing it’s now flickering within her gaze.
Cassian’s own eyes widen, his movements pausing, but he’s quick to shake his head and set his stance, mouth pinched in a firm line. The beast within Nesta gives a low growl of approval. She can feel it pressing down onto its haunches, desperate to be released, and she dares to turn the key in the lock, keeping the cage firmly closed. For now. She widens her feet and raises her fists in a defensive positioning, raising a single eyebrow in challenge to the male across from her.
He moves faster than she expects, Cassian all but charging toward her. His arm swings out, but Nesta is quick to duck beneath the arching punch. It seems to be the exact response Cassian was expecting, what he was hoping for. The palm of his other hand slams into her collarbone, the force enough to throw off her balance and send her toppling onto her ass with a soft grunt.
Cassian lets out a derisive snort above her, but Nesta glares up at him, jumping back up to her feet. She loosens that leash on her magic, feels the familiar heat of flames twisting and wreathing around her wrist. She drives her hand against Cassian’s chest, releasing all that magic through her fingers. The alpha goes careening back, landing hard in the dirt sprawled on his back.
Cassian sits up, spitting to the side and wiping his now split lip with his hand. “Using magic is cheating.”
“Because war is all about rules and fighting fair,” Nesta drawls sarcastically.
“Touche,” Cassian comments idly, pushing back to his feet. “We can play it like that, sweetheart.”
It’s like watching the whole thing in slow motion. The way that Cassian’s muscles seem to ripple and bulge. The way fur sprouts and cascades down his skin. The way magic practically shimmers around him as he shifts. One blink and a large world stands before Nesta’s eyes. His fur is a dark brown, lighter along the chest and down the belly and a black that seems to match Cassian’s hair around the face and ears. But there’s no mistaking the golden glow of his eyes, pinning Nesta firmly in place.
Cassian snarls, the sound low and viscous. It’s Nesta’s only warning before he leaps and closes the distance between them. Nesta doesn’t have time to react, to move out of the way or call forth her power again. Pain radiates down her spine as her back hits the dirt, large paws pinning her shoulders down. Cassian’s canines are dangerously close to her face, hot breath panting across her cheeks, but Nesta doesn’t look away from those golden eyes.
He doesn’t scare her.
A calm washes over Nesta, but that beast within her tugs at the leash, practically chomping at the bit. Just as she’s always done, she imagines slipping fingers through fur, even as she finally opens that cage door. With a deep breath in, power fills her chest, expands between each rib and twines around her lungs. She pictures curling her fingers and grasping the beast’s fur.
Giving permission.
Flames burst out of Nesta in a cascade of silver, crashing around her. With a surprised yelp, Cassian goes flying through the air as those flames curl around his limbs. The force of her power sends him all the way outside of the training ring, skittering and sliding through the grass beyond before his wolf form finally comes to a stop.
“Holy shit.”
~ * * * ~
Cassian
With a grunt, Cassian tosses the large stone out across the water, watching the ripples as it bounces once, twice, before vanishing beneath the surface. His arm is sore with the effort, but it’s a welcome feeling. One that he can control. His entire body still aches, and he doesn’t even dare to look to check for the bruises he’s sure are mottling his skin.
He’d known the Archerons were powerful, everyone knew that, but to witness it in action had been something else entirely. That power had rippled around him, pressing and scraping along his skin until every hair had stood on end. For a moment, his heart had stuttered to a painful stop in his chest. With the silver flames burning and engulfing her eyes, Cassian hadn’t even been sure it was truly Nesta staring back at him. And then all that magic crashed into him with an almost sickening crunch. It threw him hard and far enough that had he been in his human form, Cassian is confident his shoulder would have shattered with the force of his landing.
Huffing quietly, Cassian reaches down, sifting through the rocks at his feet until he finds another flat one. He tosses it gently in his hand, testing the weight of it, allowing the familiarity of it to center him. This deep in the woods, none of the sounds of the pack or the village reach him. It’s just the small, gentle waves lapping along the shore, a birdsong further in the forest, and the wind whispering through the branches and leaves.
“Have you finished sulking yet?”
Cassian throws the rock in his hand hard enough it merely plops beneath the water. “Fuck off.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that Nesta doesn’t have mating marks this morning,” Emerie comments. Her tone is idle, but Cassian doesn’t buy it for a second.
“She’s my wife, not my mate.”
“Is that so?”
Cassian knows what that sarcastic drawl means. He whirls around on his second, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “Don’t.”
“Just like your father then.”
“I said don’t.”
Emerie rolls her eyes at his clipped voice, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Do you plan on taking other females to your marriage bed as well, then? Plan to have a whole brood of little bastards just like yourself.”
With a snarl, Cassian closes the distance between himself and Emerie until he’s looming over the female. “Don’t make me relieve you of your post.”
She doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t step back. That same unimpressed look is painted across her face, exasperation spilling through her brown eyes as she continues to meet his gaze.
“You and I both know you made me your second because of this,” Emerie reminds him, shoving hard at his chest until he steps back. “Because I call you out on your bullshit. Did you forget there’s a war coming? Hybern may be quiet for now, but we both know too quiet is worse. Especially now that he has the Cauldron. Our pack is strong, but we’re not that strong. What happens when your wife, when her family, abandons you? Abandons us? Because you had a stick up your ass?”
“And what would you have me do?”
“Stop being a dick to your wife,” Emerie tells him, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “If you respect her, the rest of the pack will respect her.”
Cassian sighs, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’ll try, alright?”
“I guess that’s the most I can ask for from an idiot male such as yourself.”
Emerie leaves Cassian alone with his thoughts after that, trekking back through the trees and toward the village. He stares out across the water of the lake, letting out another sigh. He hates that Emerie is right. The whole reason he agreed to this alliance, why he went through with this marriage, is for the pack. Loathe as he is to admit it, they will need Nesta and the Archerons if they want to stand any sort of chance against Hybern, no matter his own thoughts or feelings or opinions.
Besides, it’s not like they have to love one another, they just have to be amicable with each other.
Cassian groans, tilting his head back and scrubbing his hands down his face. Rolling his shoulders, he heads back toward the village. He stops in at the blacksmith, chatting easily with Elis while he works the flames and testing the weight and balance of the newest swords. He hits the bakery next, selecting some fresh goods to take back to the cabin. But as he steps back out, he catches the eye of Cresseida at the shop across the way. She’s wearing the same unimpressed expression that her wife did, and Cassian can practically hear Emerie’s voice in his head, chastising him for stalling.
He flashes Cresseida the finger, earning a fond shake of the head in return, but he gets the message. He trudges the rest of the way back to his cabin, taking the stairs slower than he normally would, but there’s no delaying the inevitable.
He pushes the door open and finds Nesta sitting on the sofa in front of the fire. She has a book open and propped on her knees, one he has no idea where she got it from. She doesn’t even bother to look up or acknowledge him, pointedly turning a page, so with a soft sigh, Cassian turns his attention to the kitchen. He starts pulling out ingredients, lining the counter with everything he’ll need, and grabs a pan.
“Have you eaten?” Cassian calls out, sparking a flame.
The sound of a book snapping shut lets Cassian know he heard her. “Are you intending to cook for me?”
“I promise not to poison it and everything, sweetheart.”
“How generous.”
It’s with a familiar ease that Cassian begins chopping up everything he needs, adding everything to the pan to saute. He mixes up the spices and prepares the sauce just as his mother used to when he was growing up, the smells swirling and filling the kitchen tugging at his memory as much as they tug at his heart.
He feels more than he hears Nesta step into the kitchen. Even with his back to her, his every nerve ending prickles with awareness of exactly where in the room she is, always zeroing in on her presence. The tickle of her breath skates across the skin of his neck as she stands just behind him, pressing up onto her toes to peer over his shoulder.
“Don’t trust my promise?”
Nesta huffs quietly, taking a step back from him. “I want to see my sisters.”
Cassian hums, so she knows he heard her, but he continues to prepare their food. He gives it all a good stir, scooping some onto the wooden spoon and holding it out toward Nesta in offering. She hesitates for a moment, gaze dancing between the spoon and his face, but then she slowly leans forward, accepting the taste.
“I want to see my sisters,” Nesta repeats, crossing her arms. “I want to make sure they’re alright.”
“Is it the vampires or the Vanserras that you don’t trust?” Cassian asks, plating up their food. “Or is it both?”
“It’s not about trust. You agreed to this marriage because you knew it was the only way to keep your pack safe from Hybern. I did it for my sisters, to ensure that Elain and Feyre would be safe. So I want to see them. My mother wrote a letter, and she will arrange it all. I just need a carriage.”
“Fine.”
Nesta blinks a few times, reaching out to accept the plate Cassian extends toward her. “Fine?”
“But either Emerie or Baz will accompany you. You can choose which.”
“Did you hit your head when I knocked you on your ass or something?”
“You wish,” Cassian tells her, settling at the table with his own plate. “You said so yourself, we need each other if we want to stand any chance against what’s coming. But I can assure you, sweetheart, I won’t let you get another chance like that again.”
Nesta hums noncommittally, but she settles in the seat across from him nonetheless. Cassian doesn’t miss the fact that she waits until he’s fully taken a bite of his own food before digging into her own. He doesn’t take it too personally.
They eat in relative silence, just the quiet clink and scrape of utensils. When they’re finished, Nesta snatches up her book again and retires to the bedroom. Cassian continues to putter around the cabin, sorting through the papers on the desk in his study, studying the information and intel about Hybern his wolves have been able to discover, scrutinizing the map and the markings on it.
But as clouds continue to move across the sky, masking the silver glow of the moon, as shadows continue to stretch across the floors of the cabin, exhaustion begins to tug at Cassian’s limbs. He knows that, realistically, he should retreat to the extra bedroom in the cabin, the one he always keeps made up in case one of the younger wolves needs a place to crash. But that voice in the back of his mind continues to whisper, continues to prickle and scrape for his attention. His nerve endings still feel on high alert, all too aware of the witch between these four walls.
Emerie just told him to stop being a dick to his wife. She never said anything about needing to trust her.
Cassian doesn’t even bother knocking, strolling straight into the bedroom. Nesta is already settled beneath the blankets, pillow propped at her back and that same book still in her hands. She glares over the pages at Cassian, making an affronted sound when he closes the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” Nesta demands with an annoyed huff. “There’s no magic dictating us anymore. Don’t you have another bedroom you can stay in?”
“Did you forget that you’re in my bedroom?” Cassian fires back.
He can feel Nesta’s glare sinking into his shoulder blades like knives as he turns his back on her. Can practically hear the way she’s seething. But she doesn’t say anything back, and Cassian refuses to be bothered. He fists a hand in the back of his shirt, tugging it up and off and tossing it aside. He continues stripping down until he’s comfortable to sleep, pulling the tie from his hair until his curls tumble comfortably around his face and shoulders.
When he turns back toward the bed, Nesta’s eyes are glued to his chest. Already, Cassian can feel a smirk tug across his face, a teasing comment on the tip of his tongue, but then he takes in Nesta’s expression. The slightly hollowed look to her blue eyes, the pinched brow and downturned lips. He looks down at his own chest, and barely holds in a wince at the sight. Purple and red patches are mottled across his skin, stretching up over his ribs.
“Is that regret I see on your face, Nes?”
That all too familiar scowl is back in a second. “Not if you keep calling me that.”
“Do I need to sleep with one eye open?” Cassian asks, stepping over to the bed and slipping beneath the blankets.
“Just fuck off, and go to sleep.”
Nesta rolls over and places her book on the small, side table, extinguishing the lantern and casting the bedroom in darkness. Cassian snorts softly at the dismissal, but he settles back against the mattress. He closes his eyes and wills his body to relax, but Nesta shifts, clearly getting more comfortable, and he’s painfully aware of her presence beside him.
She hasn’t been here long, but already her scent has permeated the cabin, and with her so close again, vanilla and lilies flood Cassian’s nose. He can feel the warmth of her, and when she shifts again, her foot brushes against his leg. He dares to turn his head to the side, toward her. Nesta has her back to him, but the blankets still cling to her every curve, rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. Her hair is fanned out across the pillow behind her, the strands practically glistening under the moonlight spilling through the window.
Cassian can still remember the way those strands of golden brown hair felt twisted between his fingers. He can still remember her body pressed against his, the sweet sounds of her moans echoing in his ears. He can still remember the tight heat wrapped around his cock. He squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of memories, suddenly feeling like a livewire. It would be too easy to turn to her fully, to press his body against hers. To latch his lips to the skin of her neck. To slide his hand across her waist, down her stomach, lower still.
Nesta’s name weighs heavy on his tongue, but Cassian is quick to swallow it back down. He rolls over onto his side, away from Nesta, giving his pillow a hard punch. These are the last type of thoughts he needs. Sighing softly, Cassian forces his mind to empty, to quiet, forces himself to give in to sleep’s embrace.
Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies
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hippolotamus · 8 hours
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Fic title: baby, you've got to be crazy 🫶
Hiiiiii, Husband 💞 some more lovey idiots for you. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about how they wound up here 😘
“I-” Buck scoffs, throwing his hands up, then brings one to rub at his chin while the other rests on his hip. He forces himself to look at Eddie who is worrying with a loose thread on his shirt sleeve. “Eds, you can’t- you don’t mean that.”
Buck's accusation is born out of self-preservation more than anything. Because, of all the things - spoken and unspoken - that have passed between them through the years, he has never wanted his best friend to mean anything more than the words he just uttered.
Eddie folds his arms across his chest, widening his stance. Nothing drastic, just the smallest amount. Enough to convey he’s serious and not backing down.
"Why not, Buck? Huh? Why can't I mean that?"
Buck starts to protest, to release a litany of reasons, but no sound comes out. His jaw snaps shut when Eddie seemingly drops his defenses, closing the gap between them in two large strides.
Eddie rests one hand on each of Buck's shoulders, letting his thumb settle in the divot of Buck's collarbone. One of the many pieces of Buck that was never good enough for anyone else, but seems to have been custom made for Eddie Diaz.
Eddie's fingertips skim over Buck's hoodie - the burnt orange one Eddie always says looks good on him - down his biceps, around his elbows, over his forearms until their hands are joining. Brown eyes, the color of soil and earth, meet Buck's. They're searching and pleading, looking for an answer Buck desperately wants to give.
"Buck." Eddie's gaze flicks to his mouth for just a second, making him feel like he's burning. And he would, he wants to, but not yet. Not until he's sure what Eddie's asking of him. "Evan."
Eddie rests their foreheads together, bringing them even closer. "Haven't we done this long enough? Haven't we sacrificed and said 'no, not yet' too many times? I don't-" He forcefully exhales between them, a frustrated sigh that tapers off to quiet, wounded thing. "I've missed so many chances. Told myself that it wasn't our time yet and I could wait a little longer. Until the next one. But, I can't. I can't do it anymore. Can't lose you."
Tears gather at the corner of Buck's eyes and he has to swallow back the tremor that wants to accompany every word.
"Okay," he manages. "Say it again."
Eddie’s tongue darts out, swiping across his lips that instantly curve into a small smile. The one Buck pretends is just for him. “Marry me. Be my husband. Plea-”
Buck cuts him off. “Yes, I’ll be your husband,” he whispers, then huffs out a small laugh. "Maybe kiss me first?"
And Eddie does. He brings their lips together, slow and cautious but so, so certain. Like he's never been more sure of anything, like kissing Buck is the easiest decision of his life.
It strikes Buck that this is the last first kiss he'll ever have. That they'll ever have. How it's a precious gift they've been permitted to share with each other.
With every passing year, he became more and more convinced they were two parallel lines, meant to travel together but never touch. Yet here they are, crossing and twisting and intertwining. Beginning to weave the next chapter of their story.
Eddie threads his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Buck's neck, sighing into their kiss, and Buck knows he has never meant anything more.
send me a made up fic title
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mossy123302 · 13 hours
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I AM SO DUMB AND SILLY- HOLD ON-
SHE WANTS ME TO BE LOVED BY THE HAPPY FITS IS DEATHDUO/PISSA CODED. HELLO??? Maybe someone already mentioned this song- I don't know, I didn't see anyone mention it— BUT IT FITS?? IT FITS THEM BOTH
I know you know, I'm not too discreet
Walking around, heart on my sleeve
So, you say you love me, but not the way I need
Things are so close to what I want to be
I've known you so long, and maybe too well
All of the boys, you kiss and tell
Though I'll never be them, see I'm just a good friend
Though it's not quite bliss, I don't want this to end
Missa, it's so Missa coded with these words. He's more emotional, he's more open with his feelings and he's always nervous and embarrassed. He is vocal and is more connected with his feelings. It was so obvious that Philza even knows, he knows what Missa said when he tried to speak quickly in Spanish. Missa isn't exactly good at hiding it, but he sure knows not to press further in Philza's boundaries!!
Missa wants more, but he knows Philza isn't comfortable. So he's content with their arrangements, even if he wants more! He still wants to be Philza's friend, someone Philza can turn to even when he wasn't around as much for the kids!!
(also the whole "all of the boys, you kiss and tell" is a silly hint how Philza is super comfortable with Fit and others. You know what I mean-)
Let's take a walk down by the beach
It's warm on the sand, we'll save space for Jesus
I'll pick you flowers while you count the hours
'Til you can go home and watch drama TV
I'll say it now, there's no turnin' back
Time after time, my odds are stacked
So, I'll say no kiddin' while you wish I didn't
Maybe this time will be different for me
Philza, ohh, this old crow father is so repressed with his feelings. We have to rely on his actions, and sometimes actions speak a lot (not for Missa. PLZ- we need to gently hit him with a hammer to get him to understand).
But we can see how Philza keeps things that remind him of Missa. He kept the armor stand for so long, holding hope that Missa will eventually return. He tells Tallulah about Missa, and Chayanne keeps the skull that Missa gave him.
We can see the gradual shift as time flows, and seeing how the other Islanders start to get into more relationships. Philza is slowly starting to yearn and do things, or well say, he'd never would say about someone else (other than his wife). And by God's, the new crumbs we got just confirms this because of how much he changed from "platonic government assigned husband" to "MY Missa"
Also the way Philza gets so sad and upset when he mentions how Missa thinks Philza doesn't want him-
One day you'll love me before we grow old
All of your wishes to have and to hold
I'll do your dishes and ask for no kisses
So, I'll tell you what I want if
You tell me what you want is
Quit movin'
Quit dancin'
Why can't you love me here tonight?
The yearning from Philza, who desperately wants his platonic spouse back. He'd do anything for him, get him anything if he can just come back hommeeee and Missa is willing to do anything whatever Philza says he needs him to do. He won't press further, until Philza says something-
lord help me-
Deathduo/pissa crumbs save me...
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miloformula123fan · 2 days
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Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife teacher!reader? She's stressed about work and he just shuts her up with kisses and gets caught by the team. And they teased the couple endlessly. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))
Haha im gonna be honest i see bono as such a sap for his partner, and so that’s how i will always write him
(unless y’all want a part 2 of the love language fic)
sorry i feel like it's short
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)
peter bonnington x wife!teacher!reader
---
“I sometimes feel like none of them care. I mean actually I know none of them care, one of the boys, Brayden, straight up asked me ‘miss why does the past matter? Surely the future matters more’ and while I was explaining that we have to study the past to make sure we don’t repeat the future, he was trying to flirt with the girl next to him.” Y/N sighed, Bono and her had found a small secluded area before the race began. But Y/N was really stressed out from work and so Bono had offered to let her vent about it.
“Aww, baby, I’m sorry…” Bono snuggled closer to his partner, wanting them to feel as loved as he could.
“If you ever get a job application from a Brayden Jackson that went to the school I’m teaching, immediately deny him please. It’s just annoying that very few students care, except for the A level students, and the school doesn’t care about me, particularly if we’re taking my recent working hours into account.” Y/N laughed, trying really hard to not let her tears spill.
“I can provide for you darling…you can quit your job, travel the world with me… I know that that’s not what you want to do. I know you love teaching for those few kids who do actually like history, but I hate seeing you so burnt out.” Bono comforted her, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen past her eyes onto her cheeks.
“But it is worth it for those few kids who come through the ranks, who do care. It’s worth 10 of the asshole kids for one of the kids who cares…but the hours are starting to get to me, I’m thinking about trying to find a better job, one that actually cares about me, and not just the kids, but then, I have to quit my job, and then I’ll be unemployed for a bit, until I find another job, and trying to find one of those jobs is hard to find and highly competitive…” Y/N looked even more stressed than she had when she had begun venting and her husband hated seeing her like this.
Bono couldn’t listen to her stress and just planted a kiss on her lips. And then when she looked slightly surprised, he did it again, littering kisses all over her face and lips. She started looking slightly surprised but ended up giggling by the time that Bono stopped his kissing assault for some air.
“What was that for?”
“Just because I love you.”
Bono resumed his kissing of his wife, enjoying her little giggles and smiles. Until he realised that not all the giggles were coming from the woman next to him.
He lifted his head and met eyes with James V, James A, Toto and Lewis all standing over the couple, all trying to hold their laughter in.
“Uhhh, hi?”
“Hi!”
“Hey”
“Hello”
“Morning Bono.” They all responded.
“Uhhh, I kind of thought this was a private corner, what are you all doing here?” Y/N had hid her face in Bono’s shoulder and was giggling at the situation.
“You’re late for pre pre-race briefing so we thought we’d come looking for you.”
“And-”
“And we can clearly tell that you’re busy but we would like to see you in the pre race briefing as soon as you’re um finished.” - Toto started ushering the other guys away
“Yeah, will do, see you guys soon. Now where were we?” Bono asked mischievously as he turned back to his partner, not even looking to see if the others had left fully.
---
“Hey Bono, is the wife coming down this weekend?”
“Uhh, yeah, yeah she is. Why?”
“Oh we made a little spot for you 2 to ‘canoodle’ and you won’t be disturbed.” James A’s grin was way too big for this to be an innocent kind thing, so bono slipped off the chair and followed him down the hall towards the supply closet.
Bono’s face blushed as he saw the little sign reading ‘Y/N and Bono’s smooching corner’ with a photo from their wedding also pasted on the piece of paper.
“Really?”
“Yeah man, your wife is great, but like we really don’t want to catch you snogging again, okay?”
“Okay” Bono replied in a weak voice, pulling out his phone to take a photo to send to Y/N, knowing she could have a good laugh about it.
---
taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206
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museandwords · 9 hours
Text
taking your light inside (bucky barnes)
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Warnings: female reader, pussy eating, reader is a brat, use of 'little girl' in bed (once one reference to reader's pussy), bucky is an animal, reader hates bucky (not really), it's just porn. that's it.
Author's Note: this is pretty much a continuation of this, no plot, we allergic. big thanks to @samodivaa 🫶
This has been your married life.
If Bucky was not out doing god knows what (Something criminal, you’re sure), or the two of you aren’t in society making an appearance, then you’re in bed with some part of Bucky stuffed inside of you.
In various positions.
However he’s feeling that particular day. Lately, he’s been fucking you from behind with your hands held behind your back as he plows into you. He’s been really passionate about his face between your thighs as of late.
You could kill him. You would, you will.
You just have to get your no-good husband out from the spot between your legs where he is buried as he licks long, pointed stripes against your folds, like you’re the best tasting treat he's ever had.
Bucky's intense focus was solely on you, his fingers digging into your hips as he devoured you with an animalistic hunger. He relished in the sounds you make, the way your body writhed beneath him, every movement and noise driving him to further heights of satisfaction and closer to losing control.
Your hand comes down to his hair, you have a tuft of his locks in your fist as you pull. His startling, baby blue gaze darkened as the two of you made eye contact.
"Bucky..." You whine, your eyes screwed tight as he begins to suckle on your clit. He forces out another cry from your plush, swollen lips.
Your legs were brought onto his broad shoulders, he wears your thighs like earmuffs, muting everything else but the sounds you’re making.
Bucky couldn’t get enough of you, your feisty, bratty attitude had trapped his attention and affections in ways no other woman had before.
He would get on his knees for you and he has done so, almost every day.
This was the only way Bucky could get that snot-nosed spoiled attitude out of you, tongue-fucking you dumb until you were nothing but a drooling, whimpering mess.
Your cries of his name spurred him on, his rough beard tickling your sensitive skin as he intensified his ministrations. The taste of your slick on his lips only served to heighten his own arousal, his more primal instincts kicking in to possess and pleasure his wife in every way possible. Your smell is like a drug to him, he can’t get enough.
Your body shivers, feeling that delicious beard burn that makes your toes curl. You aren’t polite or shy enough to stay quiet, even though the house staff can probably hear you all the way in the kitchen.
It’s heaven. Bucky may be a demon from hell, but his mouth and his dick were heaven-sent.
“God…I hate you.” You moan as you push his face further into your folds. This is the only time you’re remotely dominant or aggressive in bed, when he licks your pussy.
It’s also the only time you say that to him.
You actually don’t really hate him, not right now anyway.
You breath heavily, feeling Bucky spread your folds with his fingers as he gives a very hard suck against your clit which causes your hips to stutter.
Bucky pulls away from your glistening core, a string of slick connecting his lips to you as he brings two fingers and plunges them deep into your swollen, sensitive core.
“I know, darling.” Bucky responds as he presses his thumb against the area of your clit and rubs gentle circles. His eyes fall down to where he’s stuffing you full. He can’t get enough of this sight, it literally haunts his thoughts, consumes him, he’s never been so pussy-whipped before.
“But she doesn’t,” He says, cocky and amused as he rubs against that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your skull. “Greedy little girl.”
Shut up, get off me, you mean to say, but all that comes out is a high-pitched squeaky moan.
It’s so degrading too, the fact that you’re naked save for your lacy bra holding your breasts in place while he’s still fully dressed, dress pants and a white button down shirt. His hair was tied in a neat, low bun until you yanked it out of place. Now it’s sticking up where you pulled at it and clinging to his jaw.
You hate how pretty Bucky Barnes is.
Bucky pulls his fingers from you with a loud slick noise and you whine at the loss.
His hands come down as he shoves his hips in between your legs, and he’s moving to work on his belt, not even bothering to remove it fully, just undoes the buckle and works on his button and zipper.
You’re a panting mess below him as you watch, you lift yourself so you’re leaning against your forearms and look up at him with such intensity, so much fire for such a small little thing.
Bucky hums.
“Mrs. Barnes,” He says as he pulls out his thick length from his briefs, he only bothers to push down his pants and underwear just to his midthigh.
He slaps his length once, twice against your soaked folds, and then he rubs his cockhead up and down, letting it catch in your hole. He groans, and his brow furrows as you watch him shiver.
As cool and collected as he pretends to be, he can never hide just how down bad he is for your pussy.
“I don’t know how a spoiled little brat like you has the kingdom of God between your legs.” He says as he sinks into you.
You jolt, never fully prepared for his sheer size as he buries himself to the hilt and he forces a gutted moan out of you.
“Lucky me.” He groans as he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes shut as he relishes in the way your velvety walls cling to him, how your warmth seems to encapsulate him. He couldn’t walk away, even if he wanted to.
Your eyes move over his face, studying the seemingly blissed out expression he wears as he’s inside of you. It’s such a strange thing, to see him in this light; his face tight in pleasure. It makes him look more like a man than the demon he pretends to be.
“Move.” You hiss. Bucky sucks his teeth.
“As you wish, Mrs. Barnes.” Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. His right hand is planted hard on the headboard as he pulls back from your face, his left hand, the cold metal making you gasp as it slides up and spreads your right leg further before he brings it to rest over his shoulder as he begins to rock his hips into yours.
He likes how flexible your hips are.
The raw drag of his cock makes your eyes roll as you focus on the feeling.
Each thrust makes you breathless. Every time his cockhead brushes against your cervix you see stars. You’ve learned quite quickly you enjoy the rougher fucks, when he takes you like a mindless animal chasing a high.
Your breasts bounce from the sheer velocity of the way Bucky fucks into you. The softness of your tummy has Bucky salivating, his hand comes to rest on it.
His eyes dart between his hand on your tummy and the vision of his cock sinking into your wet heat over and over.
You focus mostly on the way your walls cling to his cock, you relish in the feeling of his thick length filling you up. That’s your favourite part.
Bucky licks his thumb before he brings it to your clit and begins to rub circles. Your chest heaves as your pussy throbs tightly around him. You both groan and Bucky throws his head back as his eyes flutter closed.
You’re close now, he’s been working you for the past hour with no relief, he wanted you to cum on his cock today, and that pressure in your depth has been growing, Bucky’s going to make it pop.
Your hand comes up to hold your left breast as your right hand comes to wrap around his hip, your fingers grip into the side of his ass as you try to make him go deeper. He laughs breathlessly.
“I’m all yours, darling.” He breathes as he begins to grind into you, he hovers over you as he folds you up, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit as he shifts. You moan, loud, and before you can even think, you’re pulling him into a kiss, your hands on his face as your mouth meets his.
And you explode. You fall apart on his cock and your walls tighten around him. You pull him into you, refusing to let go as your pussy pulsates and you moan into the kiss. Above you, Bucky seizes as your pussy squeezes him and forces him to cum.
“Oh, fuck.” He groans against your mouth as he begins to milk his orgasm, his hips snapping short and sweet against yours which causes some aftershocks in both of you. You can feel him throb inside of you. You’re both breathless as you look at each other.
Bucky’s expression reads satisfaction, relaxation, and something else you can’t pinpoint.
Before either of you can think, he leans down and kisses you again. His softening cock still inside as he wraps you in his arms and pulls you flush against him. You whine into the kiss for a moment, though you don’t fight it. Not this time.
When he pulls away, he kisses your face, your cheeks, your nose, your chin, up your jaw.
“Don’t…say that again.” He breathes, he tries to be firm but there’s a layer of vulnerability, of begging in his voice. Your brow furrows.
“I can’t listen to you telling me you hate me.” He admits, his forehead rests on your breast bone as he places soft, gentle kisses there.
He’s always oddly affectionate after sex.
Your gaze softens as your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head. You’re always a little thrown off when it comes to showing him affection, but you do it each and every single time.
“Then what do I say?” You ask, your eyes are on the ceiling because if you try to look at him you’re going to melt.
“That you love me.” Bucky says immediately. Your stomach drops, and your heart flutters. He bites your breast and you let out a cry.
The audacity of this man never fails to catch you off guard.
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mmurkoff · 3 days
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hihi not sure how fond myrielle and aerion are of each other (would love to know more about their dynamic if you are willing to share <3) but they remind me of the “who tf is burning down my kitchen” “making breakfast for my beautiful wife” twitter meme
anon ... i giggled .
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as for marriage dynamics well .. i feel like by default any relationship with a guy everyone hates for good reason is going to be a bit strained . but somehow they're both kind of deranged enough to make it work (er.. well... somewhat...).
ive talked very briefly about it in my little myrielle post already but it kind of had to grow into anything beyond hating each other . right when myrielle gets to court she holds a lot of resentment toward him, mainly because he's the second son of a fourth son - not really heir to anything, and even when she's young she wants to aim higher than that with her betrothal. she spends a lot of time pining after the concept of another man that she deems 'better' (valarr, matarys, even daeron etc - the actual people matter less than the fact that they're further up in the succession than aerion) just because she's decided to herself that she deserves more. a little girl playing into the idea of being a wife and centering her whole worldview about that ala really twisted westerosi expectations and societal structures
it's kind of what you'd expect from two very willful very spoiled preteens; a lot of petty squabbles and little disagreements that have them bickering and squabbling and it's a bit of a mess . in time though it breezes over kind of because they both grow up and 'mature' in the sense that they aren't calling each other stupid and pushing each other over in the yard anymore LOL
by the time they're married ... well . it's .... . myrielle is fond of him and finds him handsome and dashing while they're in public and in private he at least treats her well a couple days a week which is enough . i think it's very shallow in the sense that ... i'm not sure if they ever truly know each other fully . myrielle projects her ambitions onto him and steadily heads down her path to making sure he becomes king (after the tourney at ashford meadow and the great spring sickness when things get a little crazy in how many targs are dying off) and aerion projects some idea of the wife he'd imagined himself to want onto her . in my mind he's kind of giving targ man too caught up in the idea of his ancestry and his family traditions given his whole deal with the dragon delusions etc so its lots of hey what if you pretend like you're (targ woman of his choosing) and ill be (her evil husband) and then we'll be a Proper Couple instead of a Fake Arrangement between me (perfect prince) and a lesser non-targ woman . you can see that there might be some issues here .
definitely not good . they hold resentment for each other mutually for a variety of reasons but theres also some deep seated dedication there especially from myrielle . she gets so deep into the thought of the both of them rising further than they're expected to that she in turn essentially drops everything for him and makes a lot of questionable choices and does a lot of questionable things to keep him happy and to assist him in whatever way she thinks he needs . i feel like she gets very caught up in the idea of really feeding into the idea aerion has of their marriage . tries to play into the thought of being more of a targaryen and tries to shift and change herself which never really works because she does treasure her own family and her identity but also because things just don't go the way she wants .
errr. ride or die i guess but it's weirrddddddd . which is funny to say because in practice they both cheat on each other and lie to each other and fight and bicker but they keep going back for more . why...? well.. maybe duty maybe genuine care maybe a third more evil option. me when i go out and cheat on my wife but its okay because i come back and bring her nice gifts and we do our historical targ roleplay which isn't weird at all guys i promise please guys listen its not weird its not w
rubs my chin. a lot of thoughts but i'm bad at putting them into words. i hope this is anything . probably not. one day you'll get something better from me .... .... <3
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loveyazy · 1 day
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Hi! So I haven't read acotar (well a little bit but it didn't hook me) but I've been reading your posts about the upcoming book and I'm so curious, I don't know these characters but the second hand gossip is fun and I'm rooting for them lol when does the book come out? when will it be announced who the protagonists are?
JSHDKAKJSD I had written so much on my phone but then I closed all the apps and I lost it so hopefully I can remember most of it still.
The thing is it's OBVIOUS it's going to be Elain. She has even said in this interview x at 25:00. I don't know why people genuinely think GWYN is going to be the next book 🫠. Her purpose was to help Nesta. Outside of that, there is not much left to tell of her story. It's done. TBH, I completely forgot she even existed after I finished reading ACOSF. Like I kept seeing posts about her on my insta discover, and I was like who tf is Gwyn? 💀
Also just... ELAIN IS THE THIRD ARCHERON SISTER. How can it NOT be about her when Feyre had the first three and then Nesta had the fourth? Like it's so painfully obvious. Anyone who thinks otherwise is just delusional.
Even if it's not Elain and it happens to be Mor, it's NOT going to be Gwyn before Elain LMFAO.
But this is why I think it's going to be Elriel and not Elucien.
Firstly, Koschei the Deathless. The story follows Ivan marries his THREE SISTERS to THREE WIZARDS.
Ivan saw his three sisters wed to the first suitors who came across them—wizards in the form of birds.
Hmmm THREE SISTERS. BIRDS >>>> BATS. 👀
Eventually Ivan goes on to defeat Koschei with the help of his sisters and their husbands.
And then we have another Koschei retelling. The FOX and the FIREBIRD. Listen Sarah was not subtle with the names. Vasalisa >> Vassa. Lucien had a fox mask in ACOTAR, making him the obvious fox. You can read more on it here but I'm going to do a quick summary.
A king has a garden that produces one gold apple a day, but it was stolen every night. He promised half his kingdom to whichever son could catch the thief. He has three sons, and they all tried to catch it. The third son saw the firebird and shot at it, and hit the bird in the wing, but it escaped and left behind a golden feather. The king wants the fire bird and promises whoever brings the fire bird alive would get half the kingdom and be the heir. So they all go out to find the Fire Bird, and they all encounter a Red Fox.
The fox approaches each prince, and asks for something to eat, but the first two shoot at it. The third prince shares his food. So the Red Fox takes him to the palace where the fire bird is and tells him how to grab the fire bird by putting it in the wooden cage, not the golden. Well, the prince says how can a lovely bird be in a wooden cage and proceeds to put it back in the golden, but then basically sounds an alarm and he gets arrested. The King tells him to bring him back a golden man.
The fox says he'll help the prince, but of course the prince is a dumbass and goes I'm gonna choose the pretty one instead of the one the fox told me to choose and he gets arrested and this king says bring back Princess Goldilocks from the Golden Palace in the Black Sea.
Anyways it goes on and the third brother is betrayed by his other two, and the fox brings him back to life. In the end he gets the kingdom, the firebird, Goldilocks, etc. The fox is very instrumental in this story.
SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN'T READ ALL OF ACOTAR
We have hints that Lucien and Vassa are very close. They talk to each other. Plus they live together along with Jurian.
Plus if it was going to be Elucien there would be hints that Elain even had romantic feelings for him. Even a little attraction. She doesn't. She literally stares at a boiling tea kettle until he leaves because she doesn't want to spend any time with him.
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She wants nothing to do with him. And yes sure she says she doesn't want a male, but remember that she is still dealing with the traumatic events of being forced into the cauldron and being changed.
This though, happens a year later with Azriel...
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Imagine seeing this in the most recent book, and thinking they're like siblings. Sounds like the antis have some sort of incesty weird freaky ass sibling relationships. 😬
This also happens in the book, which I believe is during the same time? But Az's was a bonus chapter and this was available to everyone.
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Elain is not herself around Lucien. I don't understand how anyone can see their relationship and think that's going to be endgame. This was the most recent book.
Even before ACOSF, Nesta and Cassian had this in the previous book that alluded to their romance.
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But there is absolutely nothing to allude to any sort of Elucien romance. Elain wants NOTHING to do with Lucien. And honestly, I don't blame her. Who would? He was a part of the most traumatic thing that ever happened to her.
I'll never understand Elucien shippers. If you like Lucien, why would you ship him with someone who wants nothing to do with him? If you like Elain why would you ship her with someone she wants nothing to do with?
I'm 10000000% convinced the Elucien shippers are just Gwynriels who ship them so they can have their ship justified, but most of their evidence is just their headcanons, and them not being able to read between the lines and interpreting things very wrong.
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fatuismooches · 5 hours
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I love playable reader and Dottore so much, voicelines are so cute and fun, I love to imagine what the voicelines are for opening chests! I can imagine playable reader being so excited to find treasure while dottore similar to characters like scara or ayato has no interest or just thinks its rubbish, but tries not to be too pessimist or lower playable readers excitement. I could also imagine him not wanting playable reader to touch artifacts that have been sat in a chest for who knows how long in case they pick up germs, voicelines are just so fun to think about!
OMG... THE CUTEST THING EVER. Eagerly, they would pry open the chest, hovering over it so much that Dottore couldn't even get much of a glimpse inside. Then dodging the random items you started throwing behind you as you deemed them boring. Finally, you'd pull out a beautiful blue feather, an artifact that reminded you of your beloved.
"Dottore, what is this artifact called? It's so-" Interrupting your sentence was a sudden sneeze. Well, as pretty as it was, it was also quite dusty... With a sigh, he would pluck the feather out of your hand and drop it right back into the chest, which closed with a thud. (This has happened a million times.)
"Perhaps it would do you good to stay away from such trifles."
"Hey!"
Reader would be so excited to open the chests - they would be defeating the enemies or running around solving puzzles so they could open the chests already. Or if you happen to be sickly, you'll be sat right next to the chest waiting for him to defeat the horde of enemies rather impatiently. Your husband, however, doesn't quite understand your enthusiasm... surely the stuff in the lab is far more intriguing? Mere common chests are nothing to be happy about.
Dottore's only interested if there happens to be some cogs or mechanical parts in there, maybe some ancient texts or notes... though often, they are basic and aren't worth his attention. Though, once in a while some unique ones do appear and you always present them to him as a gift!
"Oooh, come look at this, Dottore! It's pretty good, right?"
"Hm, it could be worth examining."
Reader also seems to scrape out every last Mora from the treasure chests. Why? So they could hopefully relieve Dottore of his constant funding issues. Sure, a few thousand Mora isn't much, but it'll add up! While Dottore is appreciative of your efforts, he'd just rather continue bothering Pantalone to increase the budget... he's not fond of the grime of the coins staining your bare hands.
"With this, we could buy so, so many samosas! ... If this was four hundred years ago, hmph."
"...You are starting to sound like the banker."
The couple ever!!
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h0ranghaae · 1 day
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from the first hi to the first i love you, chapter I:
the first time we stayed alone (but in the crowd)
mason mount series
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genre: angst, fluff, smut, comedy attempts
warnings: language
word count: 2,7k
a/n: god knows i wanted it to be a one-shot thing, but then i realized how many chapter ideas i got, so i didn't want to rush and make it look like a brief description of each timeline. please, please tell me what you think about it 🤧 all genres and warnings will depend on a chapter!! (the story starts on may, 14th, 2023)
"Babe, I'm really sorry, but they'll eat me alive if I don't finish it in time," your best friend, Sonia, says with pleading eyes, and you pout. You came to London from Manchester to spend your week off with her, but her boss had different plans. "I know, I promised you a fantastic time here, so I've figured things out for tonight."
"How so?" the interest in your voice is genuine.
"I asked Mason to take you out today, so get ready for The National Gallery, the tickets are already boug-"
"Whoa, stop talking so fast – I know you want to confuse me so I will say yes," you place both of your hands on the kitchen table to steady yourself – mentally. Sonia looks closely at you across the table, so you continue. "Firstly, my fantastic time can only be spent with my best friend, not with her husband's friend."
"But you've known each other for around three years," she scowls. "He gave you so many rides."
"When I was with you," you protest. "When your Ricky was with us. And, secondly, The National Gallery? I can admire you, sitting in front of your computer, with the same pleasure."
"No, you’re going with Mason. You need to get out. Besides, he already bought the tickets. When he’s done at the training center, he will pick you up – so you have, like, two hours to get ready."
You sigh. Sonia feels guilty for not being the best entertainer – but you never expected her to be one. Still, she comes up with the weird decision you can’t decline yourself, because then you will be the one who feels guilty. Also, you are pretty sure Mason said yes to her for the same reasons.
Mason is a nice, polite, funny guy with warm doe eyes and a perfect nose. But he is not your friend. You don’t really know how to act around him – partly because you are sure that if not for Ricky, your paths will never cross. He is from a different planet – a planet of fame, interviews on national channels, trips all around the globe, and big money. And you don’t have a rocket to visit this faraway planet.
There is another reason to avoid him like a plague, though.
You have a little – or medium-sized – crush on him and you can’t allow it to gain any control over your brain. Or your heart especially.
"Do you want me to help you with your hair?" Sonia asks you, and you narrow your eyes at her through the bathroom mirror.
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" you huff, wrapping a strand of your hair around the barrel of the curling iron.
"I took a break," she rolls her eyes. "It's like you're getting ready for prom and the school heartthrob is already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. I can't miss it."
You shake your head at her giggles. "You're acting like a crazy teenager."
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because you're funny!" you exclaim. "It's just Mason, and suddenly you're making a big deal out of it."
"But you're finally getting to the next level with him," Sonia raises her eyebrows, and you finally turn to face her, finished with your preparations.
"Yeah, from getting lifts anytime I'm in London to going to museums without even planning and wanting it. Besides, don't forget there is Jacob back in Manchester."
"Yeah," she rolls her eyes for the second time in less than three minutes. "When was the last time you saw him? Two weeks ago? Three? Sounds legit, for sure. Absolutely worthy."
Your weak attempt to disagree is killed with the sound of the intercom, and you're relieved you don't have to come up with delusional excuses to make your (almost) relationship with Jacob look not that bad as it is in reality.
You really like him, and you're so ready to open your heart to him – if you haven't done it already – but the local DJ (and you're wondering why this pathetic fact of him still doesn't give you an ick) is too busy, afraid, or just stupid to commit to anyone.
Or just to you. Or it's you who are just stupid.
"The heartthrob's here!" Sonia yelps, already pressing the button to let Mason in. You've never seen her move that fast. She was the worst at PE in high school.
"Oh dear God," you sigh, while putting on your jacket. Well, it's way easier to act annoyed when your knees are weak because of how nervous you are. You're right, you tell yourself, a very pale version of yourself in the mirror, it's just Mason, the old good lad Mason, and you're just making yourself crazy for nothing. At the end of the day, you really like Mason and don't want your frustration to be projected onto him.
Things with Jacob will get better, and even if Mason isn't your friend, you can still have a good time together tonight. And he can become your friend. And just the thought of it makes your heart swell.
"Hi there," you turn your head toward his gentle voice, always remembering how surprised you were the first time you heard him speak. His voice is so delicate and warm — the exact opposite of how manly he looks.
"Hi," you return his smile, letting him pull you in for a side hug.
"I didn't know you were in London until yesterday," Mason says.
"Yeah, because you weren't on my bingo card," you muse. "But the best event planner ever knows better, I suppose."
"Oh, get out already and let me work and you have fun. And don't come back earlier than after 4 hours. You know the directions, Mason, so take my bestie and go," Sonia taps on the wall next to the front door.
"Never felt more welcomed, bestie," you say, following Mason out of the apartment. And while he's standing in front of the lift, pressing the silver button, you turn to Sonia to whisper, "Text me every two minutes, so he won't think I'm some sort of hermit."
"Constant notifications can kill the vibe," she whispers back.
"What the fuck?" you make your words audible only for her. "That makes no sense."
"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the metal carriage is waiting," Mason distracts you, and Sonia takes this opportunity to shut the front door of her apartment. "After you," he gestures for you to step into the lift first, and you can't help but smile at him, entering the cabin.
The doors are closed now, and you're standing extremely close to him so you can smell his cologne – magnetic and just... Delicious.
"I like your perfume," you blurt out. "Is it Tom Ford?"
He hums in agreement, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "You're lucky, I took a shower after training. Just for you."
"How thoughtful," you reply. "But if I'm really lucky today, the universe will spare me from your amazing jokes."
"Nah, you're not that lucky, sorry," and with this, your trip through eighteen floors of the building is over. "Buckle up and let's explore the art. But let me warn you," he places his hand on your shoulder in a secretive manner and whispers in your ear, "The real art is you and me, so be ready – people will stare."
"Are we late?" you ask, and Mason just shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, totally unsure. The doors of the gallery are closed, despite his several attempts to pull and push the door handles.
"It seems to be fate," Mason says with a smile. "So, Starbucks for starters?"
"Just admit you manifested it," you follow him, silently appreciating that he slowed his usual pace for you. "I doubt you ever wanted to go here."
"Yeah, that's why I picked you up at five o'clock – I knew they close at six."
"Really?!"
Mason stops and looks at you in pure disbelief, "Of course not," he huffs. "It was sarcasm," he explains, but can't suppress a giggle escaping his mouth.
"You're so unserious," now it's your turn to huff, but when he places his hand on your lower back while you cross the road at the green light, you're suddenly out of words.
Your skin burns at this spot despite two layers of clothes – not a good sign at all. But the questions that are generated in your head – oh, they're even worse. Why does he do it? To make sure you're matching his pace? Does he want you to be safe? Did Sonia ask him to do so? Do all well-mannered men do it?
Does he like you?
The disgustingly sweet coffee you both ordered at Starbucks helps you get rid of these confusing and unnecessary thoughts. Not for long, unfortunately.
"I can feel my teeth rotting at this moment," Mason moans after taking a sip from his cardboard cup. "But it's so good. Let me taste yours."
You willingly hand him your cup, and he wraps his palm around yours, positioning both of your hands higher – this simple action makes you hold your breath without even realising it.
"Wow, that was easy to get," he laughs and wraps his lips around the straw.
"Drink it already," you roll your eyes. "And I will start praying that you don’t have any contagious diseases."
He makes a face at you, swallowing the coffee like it's fish oil – or something even worse tasting. "You should have warned me – it's terrible. Right now, I'm doing my best not to stick out my tongue in disgust."
"Oh, Mason, you're so brave. Thank you for telling us your story," your hand slides out of his tender grip as you continue to walk. "For the record, mine has one syrup less than yours."
"It's what you call a difference maker."
"Stop it already, I know it's a reference to you on the pitch," you laugh. You genuinely laugh. Mason is effortlessly funny – you knew it already, but today you finally had a chance to experience it to the maximum. And he's witty too – amazing with words, and you really like the way he talks – passionately, but in a calm voice, looking straight in your eyes, following every reaction of yours.
Mason closes the distance between the two of you in one wide step and lowers his head to your level. "By the way, I don't have any diseases," his whisper causes goosebumps all over the skin of your neck and you hum in response. "For the future."
The future and you are divided by a distance, you think, while Mason and you, at least at this moment, are not.
He insisted that you have to sit not across from each other at this fancy restaurant in the heart of London, but next to each other, and you silently agree, not wanting to miss the opportunity to feel him closer. His shoulder brushes yours when he's slicing the steak, and you turn your head to him.
"Did you make the reservation months in advance or did your fame help you sneak in ahead of turn?"
Mason just smiles at you, even though he's not happy that you asked the question while he's chewing and can't respond to your words, and you raise your brow.
"I'm surprised you're not talking with your mouth full," you mock him, and he playfully rolls his eyes.
"I booked it three months in advance," he says as you thankfully nod at the waiter refilling your glass of wine. "Three months ago, I knew that May fourteenth would be marked as our first date on my wall calendar."
"Oh, that infamous Mason's wall calendar with pictures of kittens?" you half expected him to say something along those lines, something bold yet simple, but what you didn't expect was him handing you his fork with a slice of meat on it. The gesture was nice, caring, and... heartwarming?
"Kittens in flower gardens," Mason corrects you as a content smile appears on his features when you take the slice off the fork and into your mouth, chewing slowly.
The food is great, the wine is even better, and your entertainer is one of England's most eligible bachelors. Sometimes life is good.
"It's a shame you can't drink," you whine, holding Mason by his forearms, and he shows his perfect teeth, still not destroyed by the sugary coffee he had, in a wide smile.
"Let's drink when I'm on summer break?" he suggests, his hands rubbing your sides. His chocolate eyes follow yours, and you can't help but get magnetised by his soft gaze. He calls your name softly, feeling that he has to get the needed answer from you. "So, how does it sound?"
"See you on your summer break then," you lightly pat his chest and he laughs.
"What about before? You know I'm all fun even sober."
"Let's see, Mason. It's not like I have a door in my Manchester flat that leads me directly to you."
"It's changeable, though," he says, looking above your head. It feels like he's talking more to himself than to you, but you elaborate anyway.
"Changeable? Mason Mount, are you a constructor of a teleportation machine?" you ask in mock disbelief.
"Maybe so," he plays along, and you laugh. Suddenly, after five glasses of fine wine, everything Mason says sounds even funnier than before.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you mirror his motion, holding onto his waist.
"Thank you for today," your voice is muffled as you mumble into his beige bomber jacket – which smells just so amazing, enveloping you in an aroma cloud. "I really liked it."
"So did I," Mason says, and you're thankful he doesn't reject your clingiest side, never breaking the hug you dragged him into in the first place. "Pinky promise we will go out more?"
"Sure, but I'm done for today," you say. "It's a good thing you didn't drink, though – at least I have you as my personal driver back home."
"Oh, look at you," he imitates an adoring voice. "Making me feel so needed and desired."
"In high demand, yep," you confirm. "Promise me I'm your favorite passenger."
You can feel Mason pulling back from the hug so he can raise his pinky, and you shove off his hand with a smile. The dark-haired man smiles back at you, so sweet and tender – it makes your poor heart beat a hundred times faster.
"Oh my god," Sonia squeezes you in a hug as soon as you get to her apartment. "You look so happy! And... Wait a second, are you drunk?"
"Not drunk, just a little tipsy, that's all, but-"
You tell her everything, trying not to sound too excited, and Sonia, being the best friend ever, asks for every possible and impossible detail. Seizing the opportunity, you ask the same question you asked Mason in the restaurant.
"Does it matter?" Sonia asks in return. "Other things are way more important!"
"No, they're not. What if the only reason we ended up in this restaurant was that he was dumped by someone? Or did he dump someone? And here I am, just a backup plan."
"Oh, shit," Sonia breathes out, and you lift your head, your fingers stopping their random patterns on the soft material of the cushion. Well, you’re anxious now. "You're already thinking about it, aren’t you?"
You roll your eyes as she laughs, but when you stay silent, she goes on. "I’m pretty sure he’s famous and rich enough to get a reservation in four hours max. You had a wonderful evening – all kudos to me – so don’t spoil the aftertaste with your thoughts!"
"Yeah, my thoughts… Completely unnecessary as always," you laugh, raising your hands in defeat.
It was a wonderful evening, and you even want to jokingly think that this evening proves that all "bros before hoes" manifestos can be thrown out of the window, but, in reality, you can’t. Because Mason, as you thought before, is closer to becoming your bro than anything else. But at the end of the day, the distance will divide Mason and you again. You and your long-distance friend.
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