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#i think his name was Robert but i'm not sure
calechipconecrimes · 3 days
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something i realized the other night is that in The Last of Us, the cordyceps pandemic has had the opposite effect on names that the bubonic plague had. the following is based on my understanding so it may be flawed, please correct me if it is.
in europe before the 1300s and 1400s, people never really moved away from where they grew up (apart from special circumstances), so most people only had one name unless they were wealthy. when the black death killed a significant portion of europeans, suddenly work was in demand and people started to move around more. because of this, you could end up with 5 johns in the same town all doing different jobs, so people differentiated them accordingly. this created most common last names that aren't patronyms, like smith, fletcher, or fisher.
after the cordyceps outbreak in 2013 (or 2003 in the hbo show), very little of humanity is left. of the remainder, they live in small communities usually only a couple hundred strong, and in the QZs, no more than a few thousand. in communities as small as this, there's no need for last names because with the variety of names due to the interchange of cultures in the age of imperialism and the subsequent eras, combined with the deaths of 99% of humanity (an exaggeration of course), the names that are left are unique enough that last names are slowly becoming obsolete.
we see this in practice even from the first scenes of the first game, when Joel and Tess hunt Robert down to get their guns and/or their money back. but Robert has already given them to Marlene, leader of the Fireflies. and everyone knows exactly who they're talking about, partly because it's a tight-knit community of smugglers, but also because there aren't a lot of people left overall. in Part II, Abby manages to track Joel down with nothing but a description of him and his first name. in fact, I can't think of a time in the games (or the show, but i'm less sure about that) when anyone's last name is used.
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bpdamandayoung · 6 months
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one (1) man had called me "princess" in my entire lifetime and it was the paramedic during my first psych ward stay and tbh it was pretty funny so i forgive him
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francy-sketches · 19 days
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aegon is brokenstar coded (child fighting enjoyer) and joffrey is breezepelt coded do you think if they were warriorcats aegon would be joffrey's evil dark forest mentor
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viric-dreams · 2 months
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A quick little thing set off by all the dancing going around that got away from me. Lt Roberts absolutely loves to dance. It's one of those few times that he's able to let loose and blow off some energy, and one of the few times he can acceptably be physically close to people. In earlier days, before many of the promotions and before his dreaded reputation had fully set in, he'd loved going for a spin on the deck on a festive evening. This had largely tapered off over the years.
I'm not sure under what circumstances Nite rediscovered this skill, but the morning after was one of the few in which Roberts woke up still exhausted, but for once feeling better.
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newfallstrangeleaves · 8 months
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Yandere with a unknown identity
Exchanging information
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M!Yandere X F!Reader Warning: Dub-con (leaning towards consensual), dry humping but one is naked (?), NSFW. I don't know, just tell me if I need to add anything. Summary: You play along one of his game to get more information as to who your intruder could be. Author's note: If you are wondering who Robert is, I don't know either.
"Well, since he doesn't seem to be any danger to you, perhaps you could talk to him.” Robert says. He had invited you to a walk in the newly opened park. Since your last conversation the two of you had kept in contact. He has been eager to find a solution to your problem at any cost. This time the price seemed a bit high to your liking. 
“That has to be one of your worst ideas yet.” You tell him. 
“I'm just curious and I'm sure you would want to hear what he has to say too right?”
“Not if I'm used as bait!” 
“Just give it a try, as of now we don't have any information to go off. It could give us a lead.” 
“Fine, but you owe me.” You say as the both of you head out of the park. 
“I'll gladly make it up to you!” He says practically bouncing up and down as the two of you part ways. 
Your second encounter with your unknown intruder didn't take long. Two days after your conversation with Robert you had just fallen asleep in front of some show when you woke up to someone sitting down with a sigh at the other end of the couch. 
"Eh, Hello…” You say, uncertain of how to act now when the time has come. 
"Hi, darling." He does his little eye squinting that tells you he is smiling under his mask. 
“I have questions…” You start. 
“Oh, really? Well, ask away, we’ll see if I'll answer.” He leans back putting his gloved hands behind his head. “Go on.” 
You think for a moment. Every question you had seems to have disappeared and your head is blank. 
“What's your name?” 
"Can't tell.”
“Do you live around here?” He only chuckles at your question and frustration grows inside your chest. 
“So, you won't answer any questions?”
“I can, but it's not cheap.” 
“Okay, I ask you a question and then you can ask me one.”
“No, not too interested in that.”
“What do you want then?”
“I dunno, what can you give me?” He smiles again. “I know, let's play a game.” 
“A game? What game?” 
“Lets say, with every question you ask, you take off one piece of clothing and I'll answer any question your heart desires.” The room falls quiet and he eyes you up and down for a reaction. 
You think for a moment, biting your lip. You don't have too much on. Your socks would give you two questions. Your shirt might cover you up if you take off your pants. But that would give you only three questions until you will have to get bold… 
“Okay, but no lying.” You state, he nods frantically eager for what's coming next. You take one of your socks off and he chuckles. 
“You're really taking this seriously are you.” He teases. 
“Shut up, I want you to answer my first question. What's your name?” 
“Well, a name will be expensive. You can call me Bo, But if you want more than I think more will have to come off.” 
“That's not what we agreed on.” 
“Well, I suppose that wasn't specifically stated. I haven't lied to you and I answered your question. What more could you ask?” 
“Fine, let's move on.” 
“Do you want me to answer where I live next?” 
“If it's free, sure.”
“Alright, I'll give you that as compensation for the last question. I live here in town.” You sigh, of course this wasn't going to be easy. 
“Is that all I'm gonna get?” You ask as you cross your arms.  
“If that's your next question then another sock will have to come off.” He says and points to your other foot. 
“No no, It's not! Just let me think for a moment.” You look down fin your lap and try to think about something he can't slither out of. You take off your other sock as you ask. 
“Where did you and I first meet?” 
“I don't know, such things are impossible to tell, we could have run into each other on the streets or at the store…”
“No, you know what I mean. When did you first acknowledge me?” 
"Yeah, fine. It was at this bar, personally one of my favorites. You had gone out with a few friends and I think one of them got in trouble and the police came." 
“No, I remember that. Megan's ex came and started yelling at everyone.”
“Yeah… you looked really pretty that night.” he mumbles and you pretend not to hear him. 
“Okay, then my next question is…” You stand up and start to take off your pants, your shirt is just long enough to cover your lower parts. “...,besides that time you and I met here, you know. Have we ever spoken to each other?” He looks down at his lap, fidgets with his gloves for a moment before he answers. It almost seems like he wants to tell you more. Maybe you can get him to slip up? 
“Well, we did speak that night at the bar. I just checked in on you, making sure you were okay.” He looks back up at you. You nod eagerly. If you only can get him to talk some more. You take a deep breath then you stand back up and take your panties off. They slid down onto the pile on the floor and you sat back down. You make it a point to cover yourself with the shirt, but his eyes still linger, trying to get a glimpse. 
“After that, when was the next time we spoke?” 
“At the Christmas market, I was working that day.” He says, his eyes blown with lust. 
“What do you work with?”
“I can't tell you that.” He shakes his head, eyes scanning you up and down. Knowing you will have him if you can get him to tell you, you start to amp up your antics. You pull your shirt over your head leaving you only with your bra on. He takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat. 
“What do you work with?” You ask again. 
“I told you I can't tell you that.” You unbutton your bra and throw it on the floor. Then you crawl to his side of the sofa and straddle his lap. His breath hitches at your actions. 
“I have paid well enough for an answer to that question.” 
“I'm sorry, darling. No can do.” He simply says and shakes his head. 
“Well, I still have two questions left.” You can feel him growing hard where you sit, but you stay unmoving. 
“Alright, shoot.” 
“Have you been stalking me for long?” 
“No, I'm not stalking you. I was just checking in, making sure that you were okay.”
“Yeah, you never know when someone might break in.” You say sarcastically. 
“I can see the irony in it. But I was never here to harm you, that time was an accident, I didn't mean for you to catch me. But I'm glad that you did.” He says and puts his arms around you, pulling you closer. You feel the friction on your lower half as he moves you. You despise the fact that it's starting to turn you on. 
“Okay, next question. Have we… met these last two days.” 
“Yes.” 
“We have?” You say shocked. “Where?” 
“No more clothes, no more questions.” he simply says. You sigh frustrated. Then you get an idea. And with your dignity already out the window you go for it. You roll your hips against his crotch, once, then twice. He looks at you with hooded eyes as the friction seems to egg him one. As you grind against him he grabs your hips to move quicker. 
“You never fail to surprise me.” He asks breathy. You can feel the friction making yourself wet too as well as his member growing harder. 
“Oh no, for every question one of these has to come off, Preferably this.” You say and tugs at his shirt. 
“Oh fuck.” He pulls you closer and hides his face in the crock of your neck as he grinds his hips in unison with you. He growls in your ear. Feeling the arousal grow inside you decide to put the questions on hold, seeking your own pleasure for the moment. It's when a low moan leaves your lips as a fold in his pants hits your clit just right that he stops. 
“I won't let you cum if you don't tell me something. I know you want to, tell me you'll do what I say and I'll let you cum.” You nod but it's not enough. “Words, let me hear your pretty voice, love.” 
“Yes, I will.” You tell him, trying to grind your hips but his hands hold you in place. 
“Oh, you're so eager.” He says and looks into your eyes. “Tell me you want me.” 
“I want you.” You say, closing your eyes. 
“Use my name, darling.” 
“I want you, Bo ah-” He starts to grind your hips even more forcefully this time. Little gasps leave your lips and it only spurs him on. 
"What do you want me to do, Darling?" 
The combination of his small humps and the grinding back and forth bring you closer and closer to the edge. You focus on the only piece of him that is exposed and his eyes never leave you. Not for a second. It darts between your gaze to your bouncing boobs and back to your expressions. 
All you can read of him is his eyes half closed and his brows furrowed. 
"Tell me what do you want me to do?" He asks you again. You scramble yourself enough to give him a smirk before you lean closer and whisper. 
"I want you inside of me." The way he moans at your statement you'd think he came right there.
"I want you and I want to be inside you too. Just not now, not today. Oh fuck."
Your legs are trembling as you fall over the edge. Your orgasm makes you throw your head back and moan loudly. Bo moves your hips to help you ride it out. 
As you come back down from your high you take a jagged breath and Bo's movements settle. 
"Fun playing with you." He says and he lifts you off him. Like last time he gets up and goes into the kitchen, he stops by your room before he returns. He has a glass of juice and a towel with him. 
"I'd help you, but I'm kind of in a rush, sweetie." He moves a stray hair from your face before he heads out.
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ohtobeleah · 3 months
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Cards Close to the Chest // Bob Floyd
Summary: When Bob & Phoenix fall from the sky, Bob’s closest kept secrets come to light as two of the most important people in his life race to his side.
Warnings: Bob Floyd x F!reader. Fluff (poorly written) Mild cock-sure Jake Seresin. Hospitals. F18 accident. Wholesome read.
Word Count: 3k
Author Note: I was just feeling some fluffy Bob content and I thought this would be a good way to break up the tension with all my over dramatic angst/whump. Thank you so much to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading this for me! Vee did gods work with this one.
Main Masterlist | Bob Floyd Masterlist
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No significant other wants to receive that call. That dreaded call that tells you that the inevitable has happened. That phone call that sucks all the air from your lungs and replaces it with cement. The very phone call that alters your perception of life, of time, of all the small arguments you ever had with the person you love so dearly. It's the phone call no significant other wants to receive. 
“Is this Mrs Floyd?” The man on the other end of the line asked with a cautiousness that told you he really didn't want the answer to be yes. Your daughter, Millicent, sat in her high chair smashing bananas all over the surface of her tray. Getting to know the texture of the latest solid you had introduced her to. 
“This is she? May I ask who's speaking?” You didn't mean to come across as defensive, but the panic inside your chest had well and truly begun to bloom. Your eyes lingered over to the pair of spare reading glasses your husband left lying around the small apartment the two of you and your young daughter had been staying in. If this was the phone call, the very phone call that was about to alter your life forever you couldn't help but to think of the last time you saw your husband wear those frames. 
“Mrs Floyd, Y/n, my name is Pete Mitchell, Captain Mitchell, or Just Mav will do–” The man on the other end of the line rambled off the list of names he went by. You didn't care all that much, but you let him go on. Your eyes drifted back toward your daughter, the very embodiment of half you and half your husband. Robert Floyd. In your mind, you prayed to whatever god was listening that this wouldn't be the phone call every military spouse dreaded. 
“There was an accident during a training exercise your husband was involved in this morning.” The words all sounded broken and inaudible, all but the few key details.
‘Husband’ ‘Involved’ ‘Accident’ 
“Is he–” Mav knew what the question was going to be, so he gave you no chance to ask, he wanted to be the one to call, he wanted to be the one to tell you that although your husband had been involved in a training accident, he was still in one piece and very much alive. 
“He's alive, still very much in one piece ma’am–” Mav caught himself smiling ever so slightly, despite the looming knowledge in the back of his mind that the situation could have been a lot worse. “They want to keep him overnight for observation, so if you'd like to come in and see him, I'm sure Bob would really appreciate it.” 
The sigh that left your body, the shock that overwhelmed you, the tears that stained your cheek you weren't aware were there all told you one thing—you couldn't live without your husband. 
“O–okay.” You nodded to yourself as if the man on the other end of the line could see you. “Y-yes, I’ll, uh, just get our daughter sorted and I'll be right in.” 
It was then Maverick’s turn to sit in the deafening silence that threatened to consume his entire being. Bob had a daughter? That added a whole other layer to the incident he hadn’t accounted for. 
Bob kept that card close to his chest, his daughter, Mille, was his pride and joy. 
“Try to keep in mind he's okay Mrs Floyd,. Your husband’s a very skilled weapons system officer and his training truly saved his life today.” You hadn’t taken your eyes off your daughter since you remembered how to breathe as you stood in the middle of the small apartment kitchen. She was so innocent, so young, so mesmerised by her dad that she would have known something was wrong if he didn't come home. 
“It's never been my husband's ability that I doubt, Captain Mitchell.” You replied as you wiped away your tears and reached for a sponge to go about cleaning up your daughter's high chair mess. “It's the system he works for that keeps me up at night.” 
***~***~***~***~***~
Jake Seresin had never been so relieved when he was told that both Bob and Phoenix were alright and almost injury-free. Phoenix had a few bumps and bruises, a minor cut on her forearm, and a minor concussion that would surely see her grounded for a week at the minimum. 
Bob was the same, only his ribs had taken a pretty nasty beating when he hit the ground with an unprecedented amount of force. Still, the usually arrogant, somewhat self-loathing, and above all infuriatingly good aviator wasn't about to say how relieved he truly was. 
But he did, however, offer to take Phoenix some personal belongings for her overnight stay in the chateau short-stay ward of the Miramar Base Hospital. 
“Just hold on a minute, sweetheart!” 
Jake didn't mean to stick his nose where it didn't belong, but the ear-piercing cries of a child that couldn't have been any older than one broke him out of his mid-afternoon trance. The carpark at the Base hospital was packed to the rafters, but surely there would have been a parent’s park closer to the entrance? 
Jake wished with every fibre of his being that he could have kept walking, he wished he just could have kept putting one foot in front of the other. But his mother raised him right. With a heavy sigh and a regret deep in his chest, Jake doubled back a few paces and turned his attention to the woman struggling to get up the stroller. 
“Ma’am, I hate to be a bother but do you need a hand?” 
“Me?” You turned around to address the man who’d been the only person to stop while others had walked right on past and whispered under their breath. Some had even stopped to watch, but no one had offered a hand. “Yes, yes please I just need someone to–” 
Assessing the situation, Jake was sure he knew what the issue was. 
Within a few seconds of you trying to explain what was wrong, the man who’d stopped to help had placed the bag he was carrying over his shoulder down onto the ground and stepped hard onto the safety that was jammed. 
“How did you know to do that?” You asked with a look of disbelief as you immediately raced around to grab your daughter out of the car. She was distraught. “Shhh, I’m here, see I told you just a few minutes, didn't I baby?” You tried your best to soothe the crying tot. 
“My sister has the same stroller, gets jammed all the time.” the man smiled politely as he stood by the now perfectly erected stroller. “Jake, Jake Seresin.” 
“I recognise the callsign–” You replied when you finally allowed yourself to take in what the man was wearing. The same Nomex flight suit your husband frequented more often than not. “Yeah, Hangman, you work with my husband.” You beamed as you bounced your daughter softly until she was calm enough to be placed into her stroller. 
Jake was racking his brain trying to figure out who the hell your husband was. He thought he knew everything about everyone he worked with. From the secrets Rooster tried to keep to the fact Payback had a raging nut allergy. BuUt a wife and child? Who the hell had a wife and child and hadn’t bothered to mention it? 
“I work with your husband?” Jake repeated back to you like he was still trying to play catch up. “Sorry, I must be having a mind blank, with all due respect to your husband.” 
“Bob Floyd?” You mentioned your husband's name like it was honey on your tastebuds. Jake truly couldn't compute what you were saying. Bob fucking Floyd was married? Bob Floyd had a kid!? “He had a training accident earlier today with his front seater, scared the absolute hell out of me.” You tried to laugh, but you weren't about to mention to Jake that you'd spent the better half of forty-five minutes in the shower with your daughter having a full-blown panic attack after Mav had called. 
“You're Bob's wife?” Jake asked with a frown that was so deeply indeed on his forehead you truly weren’t sure what was so wrong about the fact you were Bob's wife. “Bob has a wife?” As you clipped your daughter in, Jake picked up the bag he’d been carrying up to the entrance of the hospital before he stopped to help you. 
“Together seven, married for three.” You proudly smiled as you started walking your daughter’s stroller towards the hospital. Jake kept himself in line, walking by your side as he tried to compute the information he was being delivered. “Bob’s a pretty private person, please don't be offended if he didn't tell you we existed.” This wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last time you were left to explain that yes, your husband was in fact your husband. 
The chuckle that left Jake's mouth told you it wasn't about being offended. 
“No Ma'am, no offence taken–” He explained through the shit- eating grin. “I just wasn't aware Bob had it in him is all.” The idea Bob had a wife was an easier pill to swallow than Bob having a whole ass child. In Jake's mind, Bob was far too ill-equipped to know how to use what he had. Or at least that was the rough opinion he had of the wallflower-esk weapons system officer. “But it's nice to know the guys got a family.” 
“He does, he’s got us–” You couldn't help it when your eyes welled with tears. “Isn't that right, Millie girl?” 
Jake had never stopped to wonder what the loves of his coworkers were like. Sure, he knew Phoenix and Rooster prior to their return to TopGun, but never once had he stopped to think if Bob had a family. 
“He’s a real lucky guy.” Jake confirmed as he walked with you. “Gorgeous wife, cute kid, I'm sure he’s gonna be really happy to see you after the day he’s had.” 
***~***~***~***~***~
In all the time Bob had flown for the United State Navy, this had been his closest call with death. The bed sheets that covered the small hospital bed scratched at his exposed skin. The paper-thin hospital gown that now adorned his body left little to the imagination if he stood. 
The very last person Bob expected to see enter his hospital room was Jake Seresin. Bob thought he was having an all-out nightmare when the cock-sure aviator walked in with a shit-eating grin as wide as his cheeks would allow him. 
“No–no absolutely not.” Bob shook his head in utter disbelief. “You don't get to come in here and give me shit after I fell hundreds of metres out of the sky.” It had been a rough day to say the very least and all Bob wanted more than anything else in the entire world was to hug you and his baby girl. “Hangman, I'm so serious right now–” Bob pressed as Jake stood with a proud chest and that smug ass grin by the door of his hospital room, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. 
“You know, that's no way to talk to the man who saved your damsel in distress wife in the carpark–” Jake replied as you rounded the corner and pushed your daughter’s stroller into the hospital room. “Funny, I don't think any of us knew you were married, Floyd.” 
Bob's demeanour immediately softened as you made your way over with tears of mixed emotions welling in your eyes. Bob’s eyes mimicked yours, those baby blue eyes were quick to fill with clear but heavy tears as you sat on his bedside. 
“I'll leave you guys alone.” Jake knew when to leave a room, and he had someone else to go see after all. Phoenix, probably the only woman on the planet who could keep his ego from inflating to new heights. “Put some WD40 on the safety of your daughter's stroller too. It's starting to lock up–” Jake made sure to tell Bob before he left the room, still carrying the bag full of Natasha’s personal belongings he promised he would hand deliver. Bob's precious cargo however, the family that loved him to the moon and back and three times over, seemed like a more pressing delivery to complete first. 
“Bob–” Your hands were on your husband's cheeks the second Bob leaned in to kiss your lips ever so tenderly. The pads of your thumbs worked to wipe away the tears that spilled over his lower lash line, staining his cheeks with a salty layer of tears. “What on earth am I gonna do with you, hey?” You smiled through the kiss, speaking against your husband's supplye lips as he tried to keep his composure. “Falling from the sky like that? You scared me half to death.” 
“I’m sorry–” It was the first thing Bob was able to muster as you pulled away and reached down for your little girl. “I'm so sorry. Phoenix got us out of a pretty rough spot, she's the reason I'm still here.” 
You’d never met the woman who was currently flying with the love of your life, but you had to trust her. There was no room to not to. 
“Someone was enjoying her banana mush when Captain Mitchell called.” You explained as you picked up your daughter and handed her to Bob who was waisting with open arms and bright eyes. He was so relieved to be able to hold his daughter again, you could see that much as clear as day. “Isn't that right Millie, yeah–yeah, Dad really threw a spanner in the works, didn't he?” 
“Hey, baby girl.” Bob mumbled into the crook of his little girl's neck as he held her close to his chest. The burn in his ribs was worth it as she used his thighs as a stable surface to tiptoe on. “Oh my goodness, I can't even begin to explain how much I love you both.” 
“We love you so much.” You leaned in once again to kiss your husband's lips. “I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You don't get to scare me like this again, okay?” 
Bob knew that you knew he couldn't promise you that, that was the worst part. He knew this could happen again and possibly be a worse outcome than this. But Bob also knew you needed reassurance he was here, that he was safe and that he wasn't going anywhere. 
Death himself would have to drag him down to hell kicking and screaming before he ever left you. 
“I'm not going anywhere baby, not now, not ever.” Bob cooed as he kissed you back, thankful he got to come home to his girls after such a life-threatening accident. The WSO knew he would have to see a shrink before getting in the cockpit again. How he was going to explain away the nightmares of leaving his wife a widow and his daughter fatherless he’d never know. “I’m here, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere.” 
“Phoenix, I don't think you're supposed to be walking?” Jake's voice echoed down the hall as you and Bob looked towards the door of his hospital room. There, in the doorway, stood Natasha Trace with wide eyes and shocked horror written all over her face. It was clear to you at that moment that Bob hadn’t told her either, Bob hadn’t told anyone about you or his daughter. You were the two closest cards he kept close to his chest. 
“You have a family!?” Phoenix asked almost as if the answer was unclear. “Bob, you have a family and didn't tell me? Didn't tell any of us?” There was a rhyme to Bob's reasoning as to why he kept the two of you a secret. Bob just wanted something all for himself. He liked to keep his work life and private life as separate as possible. The Navy could be all-consuming on its best days, coming home to you and knowing not a single person could interrupt or stop by was simply the best version of heaven neither Bob could ever think of. 
He just wanted his family all to himself, something the Navy couldn't control, couldn't touch, couldn't taint. 
“Nix, this is my wife, Y/n, and my daughter Millicent.” Bob introduced the pair of you softly. “My best girls. “My whole world is in these two.” 
You sent the clearly distressed aviator a simple smile and a soft wave as you stood from your husband’s beside. You understood this was a lot for her to take in. The idea that her WSo had more to lose than she ever thought. 
“I'm still getting over the fact you have a daughter.” Jake interrupted from behind Phoenix as you walked closer to where she stood to take her in a warm embrace. 
“Jealousy is a disease, Seresin, I can tell you exactly how I made my daughter too if you want?” Bob held his daughter in hips lap as she babbled to herself as he helped her stand on her feet. She wasn’t walking yet, not even close. But she loved to stand. 
“My husband tells me you’re the reason he's still alive.” You spoke to Natasha like she deserved to be told this accident wasn't her fault. It could have happened to anyone. It shouldn't have happened to your husband and his front seater, but that was the luck of the draw–and you were blatantly aware it could have been much, much worse. 
“So, thank you for making sure he gets to come home another night.”
***~***~***~***~***~
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roosterforme · 11 months
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Stud On Board | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: You're nervous to meet Bob's friends for the first time. Initially you think they are poking fun at you, but then you realize that's not the case. When it becomes obvious that it's your boyfriend they're picking on, you make it a point to let them know just how much of a stud he really is.
Warnings: Fluff, implied smut, swearing
Length: 2100 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader
Check my masterlist for more!
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"I'm a little nervous to meet everybody," you whispered to your boyfriend as you zipped up his jeans. You wiped the corner of your mouth, making sure your lips were clean before climbing onto his lap. You'd gone on four dates with him before he very nervously asked you to be his girlfriend, and since then, for the past month, you'd been so happy.
"Don't be nervous, Sweetheart," he replied, leaning closer to kiss your nose as he cradled you between his body and the steering wheel of his truck. "Everyone is going to like you. What's not to like?"
"Bobby," you said, adjusting his crooked glasses on his nose. "They are a tight knit group. If one of them doesn't like me, none of them are going to like me."
"Well, I like you plenty," he promised, and you turned to look out the window at his friend Jake's house where the Memorial Day party was in full swing in the backyard. "And Nat knows I'm wild about you. She told me she's happy you're coming with me."
You kissed him softly and then opened the door and started to climb down with his help. "I can't believe I get to meet the famous Phoenix."
Bob laughed. "She's larger than life. Hang on tight." 
And you did. You laced your fingers through his and let him lead you around the cute little ranch house and into the cozy backyard. Someone was grilling, there was music playing, and you saw a couple of kids blowing bubbles. But before you could take in anything else, there was a woman with dark hair and wide brown eyes in your face. 
"Bob. She's stunning."
Your boyfriend chuckled and pulled you a little closer. "Sweetheart, this is Nat."
"Oh!" you said brightly. "I've been looking forward to meeting you!"
"Holy shit," Nat replied, just shaking her head. "Good job, Bob. I mean, it's nice to meet you," she said, offering her hand and shaking yours. "Bagman is grilling some burgers, and there are drinks in the cooler."
"You want me to get you something to drink?" Bob asked, pecking you on the cheek. 
When you nodded, you watched Nat drag him away as she whispered, "Fucking hell, Floyd. You could have warned us that your new girlfriend looks like that." 
You rolled your eyes. Nobody usually made much of a fuss over you. When you turned to see what the group of kids was up to, you nearly bumped into a tall man sporting a mustache. Like a pornstar from the 80s. You almost laughed as he said, "Hey, I know we didn't come here together, but how'd you like to leave with me?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, bursting out laughing. "Did you really just say that?"
He shrugged at you, looking very smug. "My name's Bradley. We haven't met before. I'd definitely remember you."
You told him your name, and you were about to add that you came here with Bob, but then your boyfriend strolled back over with two cans of beer. He handed you one and kissed your cheek again.
"Oh, Rooster, this is my girlfriend," Bob said, and you watched Bradley's jaw drop as he looked at you, his eyes dipping down below your neck to the top of your dress as he blushed. 
"Sorry," he muttered, and he fist bumped a confused looking Bob as he walked away. 
"What was that all about?" your boyfriend asked. 
"Nothing," you replied with a smile as you sipped your drink. "Can we get some food? I'm starving, and I need to put something in my mouth right now."
"Really?" Bobby asked, cheeks flushing as he ran his fingers along the back of your hand. "You didn't get your fill in the truck?"
"Bobby!" you gasped, always a little surprised when he said something dirty to you. He was such a gentleman... usually. "I got my fill of you in the truck, but I need to make sure I have energy for later." You winked, and he was practically tripping over himself as he followed you across the patio toward the grill.
And that was where you met Jake. "Hey, pretty lady," he drawled. His accent was southern and cute, but nothing like Bob's, which you'd already gotten used to hearing whispering the sweetest things while he made love to you. 
"Hi," you said carefully as he studied your face. You were already feeling like maybe you didn't get off to the best start here, and the look he was giving you felt like a confirmation. 
"Damn it, Bob," he groaned, turning to look at your boyfriend. "Well done." Then he handed you a burger and told you to help yourself to some potato salad and snacks on the picnic table. 
"I don't think they like me," you told Bob as you dumped some pretzels onto your plate and sighed. 
"They do!" he insisted. "Just give them a chance."
"I'm trying," you promised before you bit into your burger. And thankfully Phoenix came back over and started chatting with you which made you feel a lot better. She asked you about work and told you how good Bob was at his job.
"He always makes sure he keeps everyone safe," she said, looking at Bob with appreciation in her eyes. "He's a great team player."
You smiled at her as Bob blushed. "He told me I could come visit him on base someday," you said as you wrapped your arms around him. "I'd love to see your Super Hornet."
"Bob, you'll have to let her check out your cockpit one day," Nat said with a chuckle. "Maybe she's not familiar with that yet."
"Oh, I'm very familiar with that," you whispered, just for Bob, and his cheeks turned a deeper pink still. 
"Sweetheart," he muttered, and you promised him you'd behave. 
Then someone was reaching for your hand and pulling you away from him. "You're Bob's?" he asked. And before you even answered, he said, "I'm Fanboy. I mean Mickey. Come play horseshoes with me. I'm terrible and nobody else will be my partner."
You waved goodbye to Bob and Phoenix while you laughed and joined the game. "If you're terrible, what makes you think I'd want to be your partner?" you asked as he finally let go of your hand. 
"I'm sure you don't, but I didn't give you a choice. That's Payback and Coyote," Mickey told you, and two more men waved at you. "We're playing against them." 
"Damn," they said in unison before the taller one added, "You're Bob's new girlfriend?"
"Yeah," you said, waving awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you."
"Are you sure you didn't get lost or something?" Jake asked you when he strolled over. "Really? Bob?"
You looked at all the guys and then over to Bob on the patio. "What do you mean?" you asked Jake.
"Don't listen to them," Mickey said loudly, cutting him off and handing you a horseshoe. "They're just jealous."
"Jealous?" you asked, starting to feel sick. They didn't like you. For some reason, you'd done something wrong. You tossed the horseshoe, but it was a terrible throw, and now you were embarrassed. "Can I ask what I did wrong? Because Bobby is so sweet, and I really wanted to make a good impression on his friends."
Mickey's eyes went wide. "You didn't do anything wrong!"
And that's when you heard Payback tell Coyote and Jake, "It's like beauty and the geek. I don't understand how it happend."
"Are they talking about me?" you asked Mickey, and he parted his lips like he was going to say something to you, but he turned to them instead.
"Guys, knock it off."
"I don't understand," you whispered, and finally Mickey showed you some sympathy.
"They all think you're hot. And they can't believe you're dating Bob."
You felt warmth flood your cheeks, and the other horseshoe almost slipped from your fingers. "Oh."
"Seriously, just ignore them," Mickey said, shooting the others a nasty look. "I like you. Everyone likes you. Let's play horseshoes."
So you played for a little bit as his words started to sink in. It just didn't make any sense. Bob was every bit as handsome as the rest of them. And he was sweet. Even sweeter than Mickey, who was currently trying to include you in the conversation. And Bob was so funny; last night he had you laughing so hard you had hiccups. 
Not to mention, Bob gave you the best sex of your life. Sure, you hadn't been intimate with him for more than a few weeks, but he was very attentive. He gave you everything you asked for. 
"Hey, Sweetheart," he said and you turned to see him strolling up to you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wanted to kiss him until his glasses steamed up. 
"Bobby," you whispered, handing the horseshoes to Bradley so you could give him a proper hug. 
"You having fun?" he asked, rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your back. 
"Yes. Mickey and Phoenix are really nice. And the rest of them... I think they must grow on you over time?"
Bob started laughing and said, "You're not wrong."
"Hey, Four-Eyes, you and your girl want dessert?" Bradley asked, tossing one of the horseshoes up in the air and catching it.
"Um, y-yes," Bob said, clearly flustered now. 
"Four-Eyes?" you asked, scoffing at him. Were they making you feel a little awkward because they thought Bob was nerdy? "Wait, are you making fun of Bobby?"
At least Bradley had the decency to look a little embarrassed as you glared at him. "Yeah," he answered quietly.
"You think he's a nerd?" you asked the other guys, gesturing at Bob. 
Bradley shrugged. "Yeah, kinda." Jake, Coyote and Payback all looked like they wanted to agree.
You looked up at your boyfriend, and you could tell he was still embarrassed. He could barely meet your eyes as you pressed your palm against his chest. Then you could feel a smile creep across your face as you made sure you were loud enough for everyone to hear. "I think he's a stud." Then you kissed him hard in front of everyone, and sure his glasses were crooked when you were done, but you liked that about him.
"You do?" Bob asked softly. "A stud?"
You nodded up at him as you fixed his glasses. "You wanna leave, Bobby? I keep thinking about sucking your cock in the truck like I did earlier. I'm dying to feel your big dick down my throat again."
Jake let out a little strangled noise, and Bradley dropped a horseshoe on his own foot. Now the other guys were gaping at Bob, and they seemed to stand a little taller in his presence, suddenly impressed. 
Bob licked his lips and stared at you, completely entranced as you kissed his cheek. "Yeah. You know what, I think we should head out," he managed, his voice a little hoarse as he tightened his grip on you. 
"You're leaving?" Nat asked, walking over with a slice of cake. 
"Apparently Bob isn't as innocent as we thought," Hangman drawled, looking at your boyfriend with new appreciation. 
"It was nice to meet everyone," you told them, lacing your fingers through Bob's. "I'm going to go take care of Bobby. But maybe next time we can stay for dessert?"
"Make Bob bring you to the Hard Deck on Friday!" Nat called after you as you led him away. "I need more estrogen in my life!"
"Will you take me to the Hard Deck on Friday?" you asked him sweetly. 
"I'll take you anywhere you want, Sweetheart," he replied, still looking at you like he couldn't believe you were his.
You turned to wave and said, "See you on Friday!"
And then Bob pulled you close as he led you back toward his truck. "You didn't have to say all that stuff in front of them and call me a...stud. I'm used to them picking on me a little bit for being nerdy and having glasses and everything. I mean, I know it's true, Sweetheart."
You just laughed and shook your head at him. "Come here, stud." You pushed him up against the side of his truck and kissed him, slipping your tongue between his lips and tasting him. You rubbed yourself gently against the front of him and whispered, "Do I look like I deserve anything less than the sexiest, sweetest boyfriend?"
He swallowed hard and grunted, "No."
"That's what I thought. Now get in the truck, Bobby. I have something I want to show you."
----------------------------
Bob is a stud. Just try to argue with me about that fact. Thanks to @bradshawsbitch and @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls!
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2K notes · View notes
msmorningstaarr · 4 months
Text
let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader
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ao3 | masterlist
Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader
Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;
a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!
Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody
You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.
His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.
“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.
“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.
“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.
“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.
“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.
“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.
“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”
The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.
“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.
Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”
“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.
“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”
���I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.
“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.
“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.
“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.
“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”
“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.
“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.
“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.
“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.
You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.
“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.
“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.
“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”
“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.
By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.
“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”
You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.
“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.
“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.
You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.
As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.
When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.
“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.
“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”
And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.
“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.
“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.
The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.
“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.
The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.
“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.
“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.
With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.
Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.
“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.
Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."
And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."
403 notes · View notes
poeticpascal · 10 months
Text
Trouble (Pedro Pascal x Rockstar!Reader)
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Masterlist | Request here!
Summary: Pedro had never heard of (Y/N) (L/N) before his latest appearance on The Graham Norton Show. By the end, his assistant wishes it had stayed that way, and he wonders how it took him so long to find her.
Word count: 4.8k
Warnings: mentions of drug abuse (now recovered), allusions to but no specific mention of an overdose.
A/n: I am very nervous to post this! I've never written a fic about an actor like this before, so depending on how this one does lol, you may be able to expect more from me like this. Please let me know what you think, and don't forget my requests are open!
“And he used red this time! We were getting so worried that he wasn’t interested in all 3 primary colours-”
Pedro sighs, glancing towards the door to see if his assistant was coming back yet. No sign.
He turns back to the old lady who’s been talking now for what - 4 hours? 5? It felt like it. She was sweet, and he didn’t want to be rude, but god if he had to spend one more minute hearing about her grandson’s latest finger painting-
“So sorry I took so long! We’ll have to get going Pedro - your next interview is in 10.”
His assistant - Alicia - burst back into the room and Pedro was sure he could feel his eyes well in relief. He takes the lady’s hand, shaking it and giving her a warm smile. “Mrs Alderman, I’d love to hear all about Harvey, but I’ve gotta go. It was lovely to meet you!”
She smiles in understanding and clasps her own hand on top of his. “It was lovely to meet you too, Peter!”
Alicia snorts behind him, and Pedro gives up with a final, defeated smile before heading out of the cafe and back towards his car. He’d only wanted to nip in for a second, to grab coffee and a pastry, but then Alicia got a phone call, and Mrs Alderman started talking to him in the queue, and by the time they left his goddamn coffee had gone cold.
They clamber inside, Alicia pushing a few files onto the backseat as Pedro stares. “I almost died, you know,” he quips, half muffled as he takes a bite of his croissant. He hums at the taste, light and buttery; maybe it had been worth it.
Alicia rolls her eyes, used to his antics by now. “I was on the phone to the BBC. They’ve confirmed who you’ll be on The Graham Norton Show with.”
“They have? Who?” 
He generally felt nervous going on the big chat shows, especially with how in demand he'd been recently. But Graham had been so warm, especially for his first time on the show, that when they asked him to come back he'd accepted without hesitation.
And really, he was quite looking forward to it.
Alicia doesn't seem quite as excited though. She flips open her notepad, littered with delicate but hasty scribbles of various projects and dates, and begins to read out the names.
“Robert Downey Jr, he’s promoting Oppenheimer.”
“I'm gonna meet Iron Man?” Now he was nervous.
“Kate McKinnon. She's in the Barbie movie, I think.”
“Amazing.” He'd always wanted to meet her.
“And…” she sighs. “(Y/N) (L/N).”
“Who?” No seriously, who?
Alicia snaps her head up to look at him. Surely he didn’t not know who she was? “(Y/N) (L/N)? The singer?”
Pedro just shakes his head, unbothered. “Nah, never heard of her. She any good?”
“No, Pedro, that’s the point.” He cocks an eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue as she looks back and forth between him and her notes. “She’s a publicist’s worst nightmare. She’s the lead singer of this band, The Heartbreakers, they’re huge. Like, Taylor Swift-huge. But if Taylor Swift did heavy metal.”
“And why don't we like her?” he asks.
“Because she’s trouble. She’s had big drug problems, she argues with everyone, she goes on stage and pulls all these crazy stunts. She’s always in the news, Pedro.”
He can’t help but think she sounds like fun.
“Can’t be that bad, right? If she’s that famous?”
Alicia shakes her head, “she's famous, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous. People love you right now, Pedro. I’m just concerned that if you’re seen to be… friendly with her, people will raise their eyebrows. It won’t look good.
He thinks for a second. It really wasn’t in his nature, this whole PR thing. He liked meeting new people, and listening to them, and connecting. Maybe not Mrs Alderman - and now he's thinking about that nightmare again - but, for the most part, yes; Pedro liked people.
And not giving someone a chance because of his public image didn’t feel right.
Alicia sees the cogs turning in his brain, so she flips the pad closed, giving him her full attention now. “I know it’s strange, but I mean it. It’s not a hole you want to get dragged into. Her fandom is huge, the media's obsessed with her, parents hate that their kids listen to her and kids love to piss off their parents by listening to her. I’m going to speak to them about getting you sat on the opposite end of the couch... I just want to make sure you’re not linked with her. Trust me.”
With that, he nods his head. He does trust her - at the end of the day, he didn’t even know who this (Y/N) person was. So what if he didn’t speak to her much on the show?
—------
“WHAT?!”
He had to pull the phone away as Bella’s near-screech pierced his ears. They yell again, something along the lines of “are you serious? Pedro, are you serious?!”
“Yes I’m serious, what’s the big-”
“Oh my god I can’t believe it! You’re going to meet (Y/N) (L/N)! Will you mention her to me? I saw her tweet once that she watched the show and oh my god I need her to follow me on Instagram-”
“Wait, Bella, wait,” Pedro rubs his thumb and forefinger between his brows, not exactly thrilled that what was supposed to be a call to calm his nerves the night before the show was now filled with so much rowdiness. “I don’t even know who she is! You listen to her?”
They gasp, and he just knew they were pulling a dramatic, jaw-dropped face on the other end of the line. “Come on man, I know you’re not the hippest guy around but you have to know who she is!”
He giggles, throwing his hands in the air. “‘Fraid not, Bella. I’ve no clue. I do know i’m not supposed to talk to her though.”
Now there was a real gasp, not the purposefully dramatic kind. “What? Pedro, you can’t not talk to her. You have to. She’s the coolest person, like, ever.”
Pedro scoffs, “what about me?”
“When you get sleeve tattoos and banned from performing at the VMAs, you might get considered dude.”
“She was banned from the VMAs?”
You know that feeling, when someone tells you not to do something, and you don’t want to do anything else?
Yeah, that.
“I’ll send you the link, it was so cool. She said she’ll be allowed back next year anyway 'cos they need her to stay relevant.” He giggles again at that, and yeah, he couldn’t deny his intrigue.
“So that’s why you like her? She's all rebellious and stuff?” Pedro chews on his thumb as he asks, the anxiety of tomorrow not quite forgotten, but listening intently as Bella rants on.
“Nah, I mean she is controversial, but I just think she’s amazing. She acts all tough and rock 'n' roll, but she's really great deep down. I went to see her band once a couple of years ago, and this girl fainted so she stopped the whole show to make sure she got water and was okay. She’s just misunderstood, man.”
“Is it true she’s a drug addict?” He's not sure why he felt the need to ask. Why he cared. Maybe it was just to build a better picture, or maybe because Bella loves her so much, and he cares about their interests. Maybe, he had a sort of… concern, for her. For this enigma.
They knew each other well, and Bella could sense Pedro’s interest. More than anything, they were just excited to tell him about their favourite singer. “She used to be, it was crazy. She’d go on stage high and everything, people really hated her then. But she’s been sober now for, like, a year? She talks about it a lot. This is what I mean dude - everyone remembers all those shitty things but I think she’s so strong.”
He hums in agreement, thinking back to Alicia’s warning a few days earlier.
“Do you think it’d be bad? If I talked to her?”
It was Bella taking a moment’s pause, now. “I mean… Alicia’s not wrong. She’s not exactly got the cleanest image a celebrity’s ever had. I guess it’s up to you to decide what matters most.”
It was quite profound really, and Pedro was reminded of just how mature they were for their age.
“The most important thing is that you give her my instagram handle.”
And just like that, the moment’s gone. He laughs, shaking his head and muttering “you’re a dick”, before falling into conversation about other things. He fully intended to look up (Y/N) (L/N) before he fell asleep, but the hours went by quick and soon enough he'd drifted off, phone in hand and tomorrow's nerves dispelled for now.
—------
Maybe this whole Graham Norton thing was a bad idea.
Pedro was tired.
It had been a long flight to London, a long drive from the airport to his hotel. And a long, long wait at the studio before they even thought about getting filming started.
He’d been in hair and makeup for a good while, and according to Alicia, it would still be another two hour’s wait until they got him sat on the big red couch.
Yeah, he was tired.
He steps out, the muddied skies of London painting a grey-cast shadow on his face, the frosty winds hitting his skin. It was nice. Different. Much harsher than the LA sun he was used to.
He looks around; it’s just him there in the car park, leant against the windowsill and letting his eyes drift shut. It’s peaceful, and if it weren’t for the rushing of the motorway that ran just beside him, he’d almost feel alone.
“Mind if I join?”
He jolts awake, startled out of his near-tranquility, facing the woman who’d crept outside through the same doors he did. She was casually dressed, far more so than the BBC staff he’d seen today; she must be a temp, or an intern or something. A heavy black hoodie swallows her frame, and he wished he had a similar one as his ice-cold breath fell into the air. His eyes draw upwards, and he thinks to himself just how pretty she is. (Y/H/C) hair is bundled in her hood, loose strands blowing messily in the wind. She has no makeup on, so he can see greyish bags hung under her eyes, her lips stained pink, a soft blush blooming over her cheeks from the frosty air. There’s a roughness to her, something harsh, and it makes her so utterly alluring.
“Yeah- yes, of course. Of course.” He offers a smile, and she smiles back, and his heart races.
He shuffles to the left, unsure of why he’s making room for her on the windowsill; they’re outside, he’s a stranger. There’s a bench not far from the door, perfectly fit for her to sit on. And yet she follows his movements, and leans against the porcelain outline of the large window, searching for something in her pockets.
“D'you smoke?” She produces a pack of cigarettes, and digs out a lighter from her back jean pocket. Pedro watches as she slips one of them between her lips, covering the end with delicate hands as she lights it, revelling in the taste and taking a long drag. He notices then her long black nails, perfectly painted and delicately holding the cigarette in place, elegant and weapon-like at the same time.
There’s a nonchalance to everything she does, and it’s enticing. She doesn’t look at him when she asks, or when she expels the smoke from her lungs, keeping her eyes set forward and undoubtedly feeling the weight of Pedro’s on her face.
He forgets he’s supposed to answer.
“Er, no, thank you. I’m being good.” He offers her a smile, forced as he tries to remember his own whereabouts, too entranced by the beauty and the charisma that fell from this woman in droves.
The two are silent for a little while, he can’t be too sure how long. He smells the smoke from beside him, sees the wisps drawl from her tongue and into the cool air, and for someone who considered himself rather charming, he couldn’t for the life of him think of something to say.
He doesn’t have to.
“What're you doing out here, then?”
And this time she is looking at him. They’re sat close, and his eyes meet hers with ease, warm and welcoming. He feels a little more comfortable now, like she’s a friend; her warmness makes it hard to feel anything other than at peace.
He smiles, bashful. “I’m working.”
“Working?”
He looks down at his shoes, rubbing them against one another. It was always a strange conversation to have, explaining who he was to people who didn’t know. It felt like showing off a little; more than anything, he didn’t want to make a big deal of it.
“Yeah, I, uh… on the show.”
She giggles, and it sounds so sweet that his tummy heats up. “I’m only kidding. I know who you are. The Last Of Us, right?”
There’s a sincerity to her tone, nothing like this thick, false charm people try to use when they know he’s famous. It didn’t feel like she wanted anything from him in that moment. He nods, looking back up at her and his breath hitches when they immediately lock eyes again. Her lips are turned into a sly smile, cheeky almost, and he can’t help but grin back.
“I liked that show,” she says before taking another long drag.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me. Makes this fuckin’ huge press tour worth it.”
She laughs. Not the quiet giggle she gave him before, but a proper laugh, one that makes her eyes brighter and her nose scrunch up. Pedro laughs too, caught up in her, and when their chuckles die down they relax into a comfortable silence for a few moments before he turns to her again and asks, “how about you? Are you on the production team?”
She ponders her answer. It’s the first time - in the 10 minutes since they’d met - that she’d seemed to falter. Like she was unsure. “Yeah, you could say that.”
He didn’t push it. Maybe his fame was a problem. Did she feel overwhelmed? Or judged? He didn’t know - but a twang of sadness settled in his gut, and he wondered what to say next.
She recovers quickly, though. Stands back up a little straighter, puts the butt of her cigarette out against the wall, and faces him once again. “You seem nervous."
Pedro chuckles, nervously. “Am I that obvious?”
“Only when you scuff your shoes within an inch of their life and readjust your glasses every 10 seconds.”
“And here I thought I hid it well.” Cocking an eyebrow, the woman looks at him knowingly and tilts her head, encouraging him to go on.
“I always get nervous before these things... it feels worse this time, though. I just know Robert Downey Jr is gonna think I’m so weird, and then there’s this other lady I gotta avoid-”
“Who?”
She was abrupt, quickly apologising for interrupting him. He didn’t mind. “She’s like this... musician? I think. I’m sure you’ll know who she is. I’m awful at keeping up with whatever the kids are doing now. (Y/N)- (Y/N) something.”
There was a pause, awkwardly long. “My assistant says I gotta stay away from her” her continues, feeling a need to fill the gap. “Just doesn’t feel right to me, you know? To judge someone like that before you’ve even met them?”
He watches as she nods her head, deep in thought. She meets his eyes and nods again, faster, showing to him now that she agrees. She understands. He’s not quite sure how she understands, but he believes her; she didn’t strike him as the dishonest sort.
Pedro’s phone vibrates in his pocket, startling them both and they share another soft laugh. He grabs it, seeing Alicia's text flash on the screen - You’ve got a meeting with the producers to go over filming. 10 minutes. Ah shit.
“Everything okay?” There’s concern in her voice, and Pedro wonders if she knows he has to go. If she’s just as disappointed as he is.
“Yeah, yeah. I just - I gotta go.”
She’s definitely disappointed. He knows because her bright eyes fall the same way his did.
He’d never quite felt like this; like a magnet was drawing him to someone and like it would hurt in his soul to let her go. It occurred to him then, he didn’t even know her name, and he’d be damned if he was going to crawl back into the world of PR and publicity stunts and rehearsed answers without finding it out.
“It was nice to meet you. I don’t know if you- you want to get a coffee? Or something? After filming?”
The same harsh edge she had when they met, the one that had slipped and softened as they talked, seemed to have crept back as a once-sweet smile became that sly, cautious smirk. He couldn’t quite understand what she was thinking, what the cogs that so clearly turned in her mind were churning up, but he knew he didn’t care as long as he got to see her again.
“I’d like that.” Pedro sighs in relief, smiling again and sticking out an ice-bitten hand. “I’m Pedro.”
She giggles, offering her own hand and he stalled at the feeling of her fingers wrapped around his own. “I know.” She retorts, and he laughs, and just when she opens her mouth to tell him her own name-
“Pedro! We gotta go!”
Alicia shoves the door open, not even looking up from her phone which was presumably inundated with countless emails and phone calls, and Pedro sighs before looking desperately into the still nameless women’s eyes. She just smiles, dropping his hand and digging hers into her pockets. “Go on. I'll catch you later.”
He nods, swallowing and offering a small, regretful smile before pushing himself off the wall and following Alicia back inside. She huffs at him, speeding back off down the corridor and muttering something along the lines of “these goddamn producers”. He looks back a final time, to where the woman still sits in the windowsill. She waves, and he grins, unable to hide the childlike excitement her little gesture gave him before waving back and letting the door shut behind him.
—------
“We’ve got a fantastic show for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get some guests on!”
Pedro hears the roar of the audience, only a single wall between them and him as he waits to hear his name. He looks around the room; Robert and Kate are stood with him, chatting away at something he’d stopped listening to a little while ago. He felt better now he’d met them - they were lovely, so down to earth and genuinely happy to chat to him and hear what he had to say. It made him less nervous, and you might even say he was looking forward to this now.
There was no sign of her though. The singer - (Y/N). Alicia had scoffed, “typical,” just 10 minutes earlier, when there had been no sign. And she still wasn’t here.
“We’ve got the newly Emmy-nominated actor, best known for his amazing roles in The Mandalorian and HBO’s The Last Of us,” the audience’s roars got louder, “Mr. Pedro Pascal!”
It’s time.
He pulls his suit jacket a little tighter around himself, laying his palm flat against the bottom of his chest. With the other hand, he waves, smiling brightly at the crowd who cheered him on. Graham greets him, pulling him in for a hug and welcoming him back, before pointing him towards the end of the couch. Pedro gives the audience a final wave, mouthing ‘thank you’s and trying to express his gratitude for the love that filled the room.
Kate and Robert came next, shaking his hand and ‘introducing’ themselves again, despite the fact he’d already met them an hour earlier. A producer runs up to Graham, whispering something in his ear before darting off in the other direction. Graham rolls his eyes playfully, turning towards the audience and announcing, “we’ve got a late one!” The audience laugh, and Graham just organises his cue cards as producers usedthe extra time to prepare the camera angles and get the lighting right.
Graham looks at the couch, smiling with a wink. “Don’t worry - she’ll be here in a minute.”
“Is this (Y/N) again?” Robert asks, grinning.
“You’ve met her?” Pedro jumps in, falling into small talk among the four of them.
“A couple of times now yeah,” Robert replies. “I think she’s great, really funny. She's just… not the most put together person.”
They laugh, and Kate recounts her own story of having to wait on some celebrity or another, entertaining the crowd.
Graham parts from the conversation after around 10 minutes, holding a finger to his ear piece and nodding at whatever he was being told from the other end of the line. He stands up, smiling wide and turning to the audience, “she’s here! We have our rockstar ready.”
Cheers immediately erupt, and Graham turns to the guests to check they’re all ready to carry on with the show. Pedro nods, anticipation building as he spots Alicia from the corner of his eye, keeping watch.
“And don’t worry everyone, we’ll cut that little intermission out!” The room laughs. “Now I’m very glad introduce our last, but certainly not least, guest of the night. She’s the lead singer of Grammy-nominated band The Heartbreakers, she’s one of the most famous women in the world right now, and she’s only a tad terrifying. Ladies and gentleman, please welcome - (Y/N) (L/N)!
The audience becomes the loudest they’ve been all night, standing and yelling as the final guest takes the stage, and -
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It’s her. The woman from outside, the one he’d been thinking about all afternoon. The one whose name he never learned. 
She looks different; she looks like the woman he’d been warned about. She looks dangerous. Where a black hoodie had hung from her shoulders, a black lace dress now clung to her figure and he could see the tattoos that littered her sleeveless arms. The bags under her eyes were gone, as was the pink on her cheeks; her skin was painted, perfected, sculpted with darker shades and glowing radiantly. Her lips were black and glossy, so neatly done that she almost looked like a doll. Thick eyeliner carried a smoky shadow across her eyelid and beyond, drowning the same (Y/E/C) eyes he’d memorised in black.
She was ethereal.
And she was his one, single instruction for the night. Don’t get involved in her.
She waves at the audience, smirking in the same sly way she’d done to him earlier; he saw more clearly that they were the same now. She has the same charm, same charisma, same allure and yet she seems all the more potent now as she strides across the stage in 6 inch heels and pulls Graham into a tight hug, like old friends. She whispers something in his ear, and he throws his head back with a laugh before she saunters to the couch, where the three guests stand up to greet her. She and Kate introduce one another with a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile, before she gives Robert another tight hug and they share a word that Pedro can hear now. “I have to stay here an extra 10 minutes ‘cos of you” Robert quips, causing (Y/N) to pull back and look at him with a cocked brow.
“You know I’m worth it, Downey.”
With that, she turns to face Pedro, and his breath hitches the same way it did when they’d first met. Her grin falters slightly, and there it is again; that honesty. She almost seemed like she was putting on a show, with her slow saunter and cheeky remarks, but there was nothing false about the way she wrapped her arms around him and looked into his eyes.
“My name’s (Y/N).”
He just laughs. He can’t help it. She makes him feel giddy. “I know.”
The audience’s applause dies down, and (Y/N) takes her spot as the star guest, and the first on the couch closest the Graham. He talks between them and the crowd, commenting on what a great line up they had today, despite certain delays, which has the audience howling again. (Y/N) laughs with them, shaking her head and pretending to cover her face with her hand, before looking up at Graham and saying, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I got held up!”
“Well you have to tell us what happened,” Graham retorts, and they banter as (Y/N) recounts getting stuck in the backstage toilets. She has everyone wrapped around her finger, listening to everything she says and laughing at her jokes, and Pedro can’t find himself believing the warnings Alicia had given him. 
He remembers Bella, and how much praise they had for her, and he gets it. He sees what they see.
“Well you’re here now, that’s all that matters. We actually haven’t seen you for a while!” 
(Y/N) nods, her demeanour becoming slightly more serious. “No, it’s been a strange few months.” 
Graham continues, “the last time you were on the show was 2021. And obviously as most of us here know, you've had quite a difficult time since then, right? Tell me how you’ve been.”
She takes a sharp breath, and Pedro could’ve sworn she glanced up at him before she answers. “Well, yeah. I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone that I was struggling with addiction for… most of my career, really.”
“‘No surprise’?” - Graham interjects - “you used to get high on stage!” It seemed judgemental, but it quickly became clear that he and (Y/N) had that sort of friendship, the kind where you can talk to one another so blatantly. She purses her lips at him, and he giggles, which makes her break the feigned offence and giggle too. 
“Look, man, that’s rock and roll.” The room laughs again. “No but seriously, yeah, it just got worse and worse until… well, you know what happened. it was hard. But I’ve gotten clean, I haven’t touched that shit in what, 8 months?” The crowd launch into cheers and applause, echoed by Graham and the other guests. Pedro could see how much it meant to her, how she tried to keep a stoic appearance despite the tears beginning to glisten in her eyes. She mouths a thank you, and he longs to skip right past Robert and Kate to be by her side, to hold her. She recovers quickly, something Pedro notes she seems to do a lot; cover her moments of weakness as soon as they start. Instead she sits up straighter and jokes, “I think everyone’s worried I’m gonna be boring now, without the drugs.”
Graham laughs, “I mean, you are known for being one of the more controversial artists out there.”
“If anything, I think being high slowed me down. I’m just gonna get worse, now.”
“Oh god, don’t say that,” Graham jokes, “you’re going on tour again soon, I’m not sure we can handle it.”
The audience cheer even louder at the mention of the tour, making (Y/N)’s smile grow wider. “Yep, new album, new tour. It’s all happening.”
Graham turns to Pedro suddenly, as if remembering he had three other guests to rope into the conversation. “Do you listen to this sort of music, Pedro? The Heartbreakers?”
And, shit. Pedro can feel Alicia’s eyes burning into him from off-stage, and he recalls her warnings about this very situation.
Don’t make friends with her
Don’t give the media something to talk about
Don’t ruin your reputation
And yet, her voice got quieter and quieter in his head, as the sound of (Y/N)’s laugh and the pierce of her eyes became all he could think about. The decision was pretty easy to make, really.
“I actually hadn’t heard of them, until today.” Graham chuckles at his reply. “But I think I’ll have to start listening.”
The crowd cheer, and the pair lock eyes for what could’ve only been a few seconds, but felt like so much longer. She tries to fight the way the corners of her mouth pull upwards, white teeth poking through painted black lips, but when she sees him smiling back at her she lets them go and drowns in the butterflies she’s so unused to feeling.
God, he was in so much trouble.
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call-sign-jinx · 5 months
Text
Robert "Bob" Floyd X Reader - What's a wallflower?
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summary: Coyote sets Y/N and Bob up with some alone time. Bob thinks Y/N hates him but it's the complete opposite and he has no idea.
Warnings: swearing, kissing, fanboy being a matchmaker
a/n: hey girliessss! its been a looooooong time since the last time i posted anything. hope u enjoyyyyyy xx
robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader
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Robert Floyd was a very shy man on the outside. I always admired him. The way he just sees and hears everything without being seen himself. Like a wallflower.
All of us are at the Hard Deck, Bradley is trying to pick up a girl at the bar. So was Hangman. Fanboy, Coyote, Payback and Phoenix were all chatting with each other while playing pool, as was I. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bob, eating from a cup of peanuts with his drink at the side of him.
He hadn't yet seen me staring as he was watching Bradley try and pull the girl beside him. Did he think the girl was attractive? If he did, I think he's lost his shot at being with her because Bradley is now locking lips with her. Gross.
"Y/N! You listening? It's your turn to shoot." Fanboy shouted to me waving his hand in front of my face. I blinked, shook my head a little then looked to Fanboy.
"Uh sorry. Lost focus for a second." Fanboy gave me a knowing look. He was the only one, other than Bradley (my cousin), that knows I may or may not have a thing for Bob. Bradley only knows because he guessed and I couldn't stop smiling when he mentioned Bob's name.
I grabbed the pool cue off of Fanboy and looked around the table to see where I could pot a ball. I moved around the table and found my shot. I lined my cue up with the white ball, then looked up to see Bob intently watching me. I shook my head and refocused on the ball. I drew the cue back and hit it with enough force so that the ball potted. The white ball then hit another of our balls into one of the holes. Fanboy patted me on the back and said well done before I sat down.
It was now Fanboy's turn to shoot. But before he did, he shouted to Bob.
"Hey Bob! Please could you get my jacket out of Y/N's car? She'll help you find it, can't remember where I put it." My eyes instantly went to Fanboy. I shook my head slightly with a pleading look. I could not be around Bob alone. Last time I was I completely embarrassed myself. I didn't show my face to him for two weeks.
"U-uh sure!" Bob put down his cup of peanuts next to his drink and got up off the chair and headed towards me. "After you." He muttered with his eyes glued to the floor. I began to walk out and turned to give Fanboy a death stare.
The walk to the car was silent. And awkward. Very awkward.
I unlocked my car and decided to start off in the boot of the car while Bob started in the backseat.
"Not here!" Bob shouted as he then began to look in the front seat of the car. I muttered a quick "okay" before continuing looking in the back.
I was zoned out. Just moving things about, not actually looking for Fanboy's jacket.
"Do you like... hate me or something? Did I do something wrong?" I quickly snapped out of my trance and closed the boot so I could see Bob's face.
"Why would I hate you? You haven't done anything wrong..." I furrowed my brows but my tone was quiet.
"You barely talk to me. There was a period of time where you avoided me, I know that because every time you saw me you did a full 180 and practically ran the other way." With every sentence, Bob took a step towards me until he was only a few inches away from me.
"I... I do not hate you." I chuckle as I make eye contact with him, Bob had a serious look on his face.
"Then why do you always avoid me? There has to be a reason..." Bob really wanted to know... Should I tell him? What if he doesn't feel the same way? Fuck it. I'm gonna tell him.
"Bob... I... Fuck!" I couldn't get my words out. I ran a hand through my hair and breathed out through my nostrils.
"You should know already! You're like a fucking wallflower!" Bob's brows furrowed and head tilted to the right in confusion.
"What's a wallflower?" He seemed very confused. The way he looked right now was adorable though.
"It's someone who sees and hears everything around them but isn't seen." I chuckle as I look into his eyes. The moonlight made his face look absolutely ethereal.
"Oh right... But... You still haven't answered my question." Bob had a small smile on his face.
"I..." I sucked it up, he was probably gonna find out sooner or later. "I have feelings for you Bob..." I couldn't look at him, I didn't want to. He surely doesn't like me back.
When I looked up at Bob, he was looking at me with utter shock on his face. Oh no... Shit... I've probably just fucked everything up.
"It-It's alright if you don't feel the same. I don't actually know why I told you... I could've just come up with an excuse but I just said it out loud." I kept on rambling and rambling.
Bob then grabbed both my arms and shouted my name.
We looked at each other intently until our faces began getting closer to each other. Bob couldn't wait as his hands found place on my cheeks and connected his lips to mine. It was a sweet, soft kiss. Severely contrasting to the other guys I've kissed before.
My hands then traced his abs and up to the back of his neck. I pulled him closer and he backed me up against the boot of my car. My hand went up to tug at his hair to which he let out a groan to.
We then pulled away for some air and stared at each other with goofy smiles on our faces.
"I have wanted to do that for so long..." Bob says breathlessly. I giggle as his smile becomes impossibly goofier.
"Come on, let's go back inside." We both then head back inside the Hard Deck to which Bradly, Coyote, Hangman, Phoenix and Fanboy were waiting and cheered as we got back inside.
"Did you tell them all?" I asked, to which Fanboy gave me a smug grin and hugged me.
"Well done for deciding not to be a pussy anymore Y/N/N." He said in my ear, I hit him on his back in reply which received a laugh from him.
I then go over to Bob who took back his place on his chair next to the wall and rested my head on his shoulder.
I'm glad I decided not to be a pussy.
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pepperonidk · 10 days
Text
roads diverged || h.js
pairing: joshua hong x reader warnings: super self-indulgent. some crying, life decisions, joshua is my comfort member word count: 759 summary: life is full of diverging roads, but it's okay as long as joshua's walking beside you
a/n: i'm definitely projecting lol. instead of crying for 3 hours, i decided to cry for 1 hour and write this for 2 hours :) problem solved
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It’s not that you’re particularly a neat freak, but you’re pretty sure you read somewhere that cleaning your living space can help clear your mind. 
It isn’t until you’re on your knees on the bathroom tile at 2 am, scrubbing between tiles with a pink toothbrush and a dream that you finally question the scientific validity of that Buzzfeed article. You let out a huff and pull the rubber gloves off your hands and throw them down onto the floor.
“Damn,” you hear a hoarse voice call from the bathroom door. “What did those gloves do to you?”
“Shua,” his name comes out as if you’re surprised at the shakiness in your own voice. Once he hears it too, his smirk falls into a frown and his eyebrows come together in concern. In the next instant, he’s on his knees beside you, pulling you into his arms.
“What’s wrong angel?” he whispers against your hair, rubbing his arms soothingly down your back.
His question is all it takes for the dam to break and not long after, the sleeve of Joshua’s light blue pajama shirt is soaked with tears. He shushes you as he pulls you tighter against him, and he wishes he could lift whatever burden was weighing you down.
It takes a minute  before you can finally give him an answer. “Do you remember that really weird thing I asked you about a few weeks ago?” you managed to get out between hiccups.
He pulls away and shifts his hands down to hold yours. “Yeah,” he nods. “When you were reading that Robert Frost poem and you asked what happens if you don’t like the road less traveled and you want to go back and take the other one?” 
You nod back at him, pulling your lip between your teeth to fight back the tears. “Yeah… that.”
“What about it?” he asks quietly, prodding you to continue. 
“I think I’m going to quit my job,” you answered, unable to fight the second wave of tears.
“Oh, honey,” he began, his hands instinctively coming up to your face to wipe away the streams of tears. “What brought this on? I thought you liked your job.”
“I do,” you answer. “Well, I did. I’m not so sure anymore.”
“What changed?” 
“I don’t know,” you confess, dropping your head into your hands. “It’s just not… I just feel like I’m stuck, you know? Like what if I missed out on something better because I’m afraid of leaving something that’s familiar?” 
Joshua hums thoughtfully, choosing his words before he continues. “That’s something I wish I knew the answer to,” he sighs and lifts your chin to look at him. He hates seeing you sad, but even more so knowing that this isn’t a problem he can fix for you. “But just think, honey, if you didn’t walk down this path, we wouldn’t have met.”
You nod and break out a small smile that mirrors his. “Yeah,” you agree. “That is pretty great.”
“See?” he continues. “I think you know, no matter which path you take, it’ll be lined with good things and bad things, and that’s okay.”
“I know, I know,” you affirm. “But I like it better when you tell me.”
Joshua lets out a chuckle before standing and holding his hand out to you. “I’ll keep telling you if you finally come to bed with me,” he offers and you take it, gathering your cleaning supplies into your free arm and setting them onto the counter. 
Once you’ve both finally settled into bed, Joshua shuts off the lamp on the bedside table and pulls you flush against his chest. His fingers trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the steadiness of his heartbeat.
“As I promised,” he began. “There’s gonna be lots of diverging paths, you know? Lots of different ways to go. And they won’t always be as scenic as the ones before, or as neatly paved, or as—” 
You playfully swat at his chest and smile at the rumble of laughter in his chest. “I get it,” you prod.
“My point is,” he drags out the last syllable, tilting his neck down to smile at you before yawning. “No matter which path you end up taking, I’ll be walking right next to you, holding your hand.” True to his word, he pulls your free hand into his before bringing it up to press a light kiss against your palm. “And every step is going to take us exactly where we need to go.”
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taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao
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lacrimosathedark · 3 months
Text
I have so many reasons why I love JayRoy, but there is one that is a surprisingly big factor while also completely meaningless and coincidental, but adorable to think about.
Allow me to show you Lian Harper of Earth-22, aka the Kingdom Come universe.
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This pretty freckled redhead is indeed, believe it or not, Lian Harper. Unfortunately there are no good pictures of her in her originating story.
Lucky for us, her and her team of Titans appear in Titans 23-25
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and the team includes other Titans kids
Darkstar, (possibly) Robert Long, Donna's son Nightstar, Mar'i Grayson, Dick and Kori's daughter Kid Flash, Irey West, Wally's daughter Aquagirl, Tula, Garth's daughter
I'm not sure where the name "Darkstar" comes from if I'm completely honest, but Nightstar is obviously just smashing Nightwing and Starfire together, and the other two are legacy names. Lian's name is...not like that. And it's hilarious to me. Just...
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You read that correctly. There is a future version of Lian Harper whose superhero name is Red Hood.
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Now this is more because one of the names Roy used was Red Arrow, and with Arrowfam's whole Robin Hood schtick, Little Red Riding Hood seemed like a fun play. And this is before Graduation Day, so I'm not sure if Jason was even planned to return yet. It literally has nothing to do with Jason or Joker but that's kind of why I love it so much. This literally has nothing to do with who we know as Red Hood AND YET. THE CONNECTION IS THERE.
It's just one of those funny coincidences that I love.
For funsies, here's more pictures of her.
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You can tell Roy has a toddler because while not knowing this is also his daughter, he is talking to her like a naughty dog lmao
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Despite the red hair, she looks like her mom...and as much as I hate Cheshire, that's still kinda sweet and really cute.
They're only there for a short while, and then the Titans forget they existed immediately after, but it's still nice.
This outfit also inspired my redesign for Lian's hero costume. I love the shoulder cape. Just give the hood some cat ears and we're good.
Lian is my favorite.
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the-froschamethyst4 · 5 months
Text
Name a woman
COD Men Headcanons
————
König
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“King”
“Ja, meine liebe (yes, my love)?”
“Name a woman.”
“Name a woman? Why?”
“Just name one.”
“Okay…” he thought long and hard about naming someone. “Jennifer Coolidge.”
“JENNIFER COOLIDGE!!” Y/n laughs at him.
“What? I’m confused, you said to name a woman…is she not a woman?” König was confused.
“No, no, she is, but why her?” You continue to laugh.
“You said name a woman…so I did.”
✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤
Ghost
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“SIMON!” You called from from the stairs running to the living room with your phone in hand.
“Huh?” He asks, looking over his shoulder as he was sitting on the couch but shifted a bit when you plopped down next to him.
“Name me a woman.”
“Huh?” He repeats. “Is this another TikTok trend?”
“No, no, just name me one,” you lied.
“Okay…” Simon looked up at the ceiling trying to think of a woman. “Julia Roberts.”
“Julia Roberts?”
“Yes!” He says, sounding offended a little bit.
“Is she prettier than me?”
“Oh I knew it, this is a trend, no you told me to name someone and I did!” He says.
“Then why her?”
“Seriously? This was a trap, I’m not answering,” he crosses his arms and faces the TV again.
“So *sobs* she is?” You cried.
“WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!” He asks cupping your face.
“B-Because *sob* she is prettier than m-me.”
“No, no, I just said because you asked me to, I think you are way hotter and sexier than her, hell I don’t have a shot with her and I’m surprised I had a shot with you.”
“Okay all better,” Y/n’s face was all red but when you said this your face was back at its normal state.
“Did I just get manipulated?”
✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤
Price
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“PRICE!”
“Huh? WHAT?!” He yells and then hears your feet sticking to the hard wood floor and you come sitting next to him
“Name a woman.”
“Umm~ why?”
“Do it.”
“Florence Pugh.”
“Floren-huh? Why her?”
“You said name a woman and I did. I liked her in Blackwidow and Don’t worry darling.”
“Don’t worry darling is kind of mid.”
“You fuckin’ take that back.”
✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤
Soap
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“Hey, Soap, can you do something for me real quick?”
“Yeah, sure anything love.”
“Name me a woman.”
“Uhh~ o-okay…Margot Robbie.”
“You only say her because you just saw Barbie.”
“AND SUICIDE SQUAD! And she’s a good actress and she is very pretty.”
“Prettier than me?”
“We’re are not starting this. You are prettier than anyone.”
“But you just called Margot Robbie pretty.”
“Because I don’t have a chance with her but you…WOO! I don’t know how I got you. You are WAY out of my league, sweetheart.”
✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤
Alejandro
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"Amor, can you name me a woman please?"
"A woman...are you pregnant?"
"What? No, just name me a woman."
"Oh okay ummm~ Xochitl Gomez."
"Xochitl Gomez?!"
"Yeah, have you seen her on Dancing with Stars! Come on, she's amazing."
"Amazing?"
"W-Well-I-I-I-uhh~ she's not better than you, obviously," he nervously laughs, he knew this felt like some sort of trap.
"Well, I know that, and yes I have seen her dance," you said.
You stood up and looked like you were ready to do sombra, Alejandro chuckled and stood up with her ready to dance with her
✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤
Gaz
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"KYLE!"
"Oh no, it's never good when you call me by my government name and not my codename."
"Yeah, yeah, listen," you plopped down on the couch next to him. "Name me a woman."
"Okay, Y/n."
"No, not me just anyone."
"Y/n."
"Huh? No, someone else."
"Why?"
"B-Because just name someone."
"No, I stick by my answer."
"What did you do?"
"Why do you assume I did something?" He laughs.
"I don't know? You just seem like you did something."
"I didn't do anything." He says giving her a soft smile.
"Okay...what do you want?"
"Nothing, I'm happy just where I am," he smiles at you.
You were still suspicious like he either did something or he wants something, as you walked out of the living room and out of sight Gaz grabs his phone.
"They did it." Gaz whispered-yelled into his phone.
"Did you stand strong?" Price asked.
"Of course, but they thought I did something."
"It was a trap, you did good solider," Ghost says.
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writer-in-theory · 2 years
Text
Me and You, & Your Uncle Wayne — part one.
Summary: Eddie tells his Uncle Wayne about him and Steve. Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson Content Warnings: Period-Typical Homophobia Read on Ao3 Part Two || Part Three Masterlist
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Wayne Munson was less than thrilled when he found out who his nephew was dating.
He knew he'd hate the conversation from the moment Eddie sat him down, the kid's leg bouncing so badly he was sure it might jackhammer completely through the floor of the trailer. Eddie and him didn't have serious conversations, not since Wayne's brother made his son cry the one and only time Wayne agreed to let him visit a few years before and they had to have a conversation about what little Eddie hoped his father would be like and what he actually was.
"I think I'm in love, and I think I'm gonna marry this person someday." It shouldn't have been a bad conversation. Wayne had been wishing for his nephew to find someone good, someone who could convince him that love was still out there for people like him, people who’d never quite been given a fair shake by the world.
But Eddie looked nervous, more nervous than the time Chief Hopper brought him home after dealing at one of that Harrington boy’s parties. He looked downright terrified, and Wayne hated the thought of him ever being the cause of that.
“It’s a guy, I’m…it’s a guy, Uncle Wayne.”
And suddenly Wayne understood the cause of Eddie’s fear. He wasn’t blind to how the town of Hawkins labeled his nephew, how they ostracized him for being different. He liked odd music, and wore even odder clothes compared to the other teens. He was loud, and non-conforming, and lived in the trailer park at the edge of town. He wasn’t a part of urban suburbia that everyone here demanded. This would only make it worse, if anyone found out. New waves of acceptance were beginning to spread through the cities but Hawkins was not San Francisco, it was not Chicago or New York; it was a small town in nowhere Indiana where God and Reagan reigned supreme.
He didn’t know how to tell his nephew everything would be okay because it probably wouldn’t, not until he escaped this town that never gave him a chance. It became all the more clear that while Wayne could get by with his head tucked down, Eddie couldn't survive in this town. He was so much bigger than it, and deserved the chance to get out of here the second he could. Wayne had never been the best with words, so all he could do was nod, slowly, and ask, “What’s his name?” he hoped, with everything in him, that Eddie would understand that acceptance.
“You’ll never believe it,” Eddie laughed, that bright smile Wayne loved finally coming back, “it’s Steve Harrington.”
Wayne was okay with eddie being gay, and maybe deep down he’d always known this about his nephew. But Steve Harrington? Wayne had gone to school with Robert, had experienced first-hand the cruelty that could come from a boy who was given everything and couldn’t be touched because of it. He had no doubt that the Harrington boy would be the same, especially after having heard from John at the movie theatre what had been spray-painted when the boy’s last partner upset him. Wayne could already picture it, could see the devastation that could be wrought on his son.
How long would it take until Harrington spray-painted that one word, that slur Wayne used to sling around in high school but now would never utter again, around town? How long before Eddie was quite literally run out of Hawkins because he’d gotten into a fight with Steve?
He took too long to answer. He could see it in Eddie’s face, the horror taking over his expression at Wayne’s hesitation. He saw the quiver in the boy’s normally steady hands. “Eddie,” Wayne started, but that only seemed to jolt him into action. Eddie jumped from his seat, hands in his hair as his eyes averted from Wayne.
“Nevermind, nevermind,” Eddie wrenched out, “Jesus Christ.”
There were no harsh words, no anger thrown at him. No hurt, just Eddie, not looking at him. And then Eddie was taking off out the front door before Wayne could even hope to gather his thoughts.
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magnusbae · 4 months
Note
look, I'm a basic bitch, I see “only one bed” on a prompt list, I send asks begging for dreamling fics
xo @hardly-an-escape
Listen, I am so not cheating, despite my not being active in the dreamling for a while, I am going by oRDER. Thank you so much for the message dear, I hope you're well 🥰💖
Dreamling || 402w || lil silly au lol :)
▾▾▾
''There's only one bed.'' Hob shakes his head in disbelief, the apologetic staff who had informed that there’s been a mistake with their room had tactfully omitted this part from her apologies.
Dream doesn’t seem to be as perturbed by the hotel’s mix-up, nor does he look like he’s about to throw a fit the way Hob half expected him to. He shrugs, a minor movement of his shoulders, and walks in to sit down on said bed. He doesn’t look worried, instead he flips his phone open and scrolls through what Hob assumes to be his work emails.
In fact, he seems a little too fine to Hob’s taste.
“You do realize that it means we’ll have to share? I’m not sleeping on the floor nor the bathtub, if that’s the crazy idea you’ve got up that pretty head of yours.” If it was anyone else, Hob wouldn’t have to clarify. Given the fact that this is Dream, or professionally known— Morpheus, he feels the need to make absolutely sure that he understands the situation.
That he, the CEO of his family’s business, is about to share a bed with the IT guy he decided to drag along for this trip. (Why?)(He did not deem anyone worthy of an explanation.) Hob feels that perhaps the great pay was worth skipping over, if only for the icy look he gets from Dream when he lowers his phone, looking perfectly unimpressed.
“That is glaringly obvious, Robert.” He says his full name with a roll of his tongue, a thing that doesn’t fail to make Hob’s skin itch. He used to think it was anger, but lately… he’s not that sure about it.
“Great, sure. Just making sure” he wipes his hands over his pants in a quick motion, looking around the room to not think about how he’ll be sharing bed with the guy he lowkey, highey, all keys wanted to fuck for the longer half of the past year. Bloody hell and heaven. God help him.
“Clearly” Dream rolls his eyes, in that implied manner of his, looking up briefly before he is glued back to his phone. What a pretty, annoying, horrible bitch. Hob is absolutely fucked.
“I’m hitting the shower first.” he doesn’t wait for the answer, escaping Dream’s company out of sheer self preservation. This is going to be a long trip indeed. God help him indeed…
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bradshawsbaby · 4 months
Text
Letters to My Love // Part X
Rosie the Riveter
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Series Masterlist
JOIN THE TAGLIST!
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader
Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?
Word Count: 2.9k
Author’s Note: I'm so sorry for how long it's taken me to update this story! One of my goals for 2024 is to get this series completed. Although it's taken me so long to update, Bobby and Peach are never far from my mind and are always in my heart. I hope you enjoy this latest installment of their story!
Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.
The title of this chapter is obviously a tribute to the iconic figure of Rosie the Riveter. But it was also inspired by the song of the same name by The Four Vagabonds, which you can listen to here!
Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, Clara (@luminousnotmatter). She was the first person to listen to all my endless ramblings about this universe, and she has never stopped supporting me or believing that I can get it finished. Thank you, Clara!
Warnings: Alternating POV, references to casualties of war and grief, slight angst, lots and lots of fluff.
July 8, 1943
My Dearest Peach,
I want to start by saying that I’m terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to your last letter. I think I’ve worn down the paper to nearly nothing with how many times I’ve read it, but it’s been hard to get a free moment to sit and write you the response you deserve. Things are really heating up over here, and we have to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to start a new letter, only for us to be called up just as I set my pen to the paper.
To set your mind at ease, I want you to know that I’m alright. I’m not sure how much information they’re sharing with you all back home, but I know one of the fellas got a letter from his wife recently and she told him that three different families on their street got notified that their boys had been killed in action in just one week. It made her real scared that she was going to be the next one getting a knock on the door. I won’t lie to you, Peach, because I don’t think that’s fair—we’re losing a lot of men over here. It’s scary to think that any day now, it could be me they’re sending a flag home for.
I hate to start this letter off so morbidly, but there’s been something weighing on my mind lately, especially since my buddy got that letter from his wife. If anything happens to me over here, you won’t know. They’ll tell my family, sure, but not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you waiting for another letter that isn’t going to come. So I’ve spoken to Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny about it. If anything happens to me over here, Peach, they’re going to write to you and let you know. It gives me some comfort to think that their words will be a little softer and kinder than the formality of Uncle Sam.
I hope this doesn’t make you sad, Peach, although I admit it makes me a bit sad to write. The truth is, I’m quite alright right now, like I said, and I don’t plan on letting anything happen to me over here. We have to take that drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier, after all. I tell you, that thought alone is enough to get me through even the hardest days over here.
Alright, enough of all this. Time to get back to your lovely letter. They’re calling us for dinner right now, but as soon as I’m finished, I’m coming right back to continue this letter. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting it to you.
I’m back, Peach. All the fellas were teasing me in the galley because of how quickly I scarfed down my dinner, but I didn’t care because I knew I was getting back to you and your sweet words, and that means a whole lot more than the crummy food they’re serving over here. Boy, I tell you, I sure do miss home-cooked meals. They even had—I’m not lying, I promise—they even had peach cobbler for dessert tonight. It made me think of you, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as the cobbler your family makes, so I didn’t even bother giving it a taste.
Now I do have to say that you’re right, of course. I hate hearing you call yourself shy and mousey. If that’s the way you feel when I call myself boring, then I certainly promise I won’t ever do it again. It’s a deal—neither of us will talk about ourselves like that anymore.
Nothing you say could ever sound silly to me, Peach. Even though we only got to spend a few hours in each other’s company, your letters have made me feel like we’ve known each other for years and years. I’m honored that I’ve been able to make you feel seen. I do see you, Peach. You’re the most beautiful, interesting, intelligent girl I’ve ever known, and I hope you can see that in yourself. For what it’s worth, you’ve helped me to come out of my shell, too. Paul was just saying the other day that I look like a new man—that I’m standing taller and seem more confident than he’s ever seen in all the years he’s known me. I had just finished reading one of your letters when he said that. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. You’re turning me into a new man, Peach, and I like it. I like it a lot.
I’m glad that you passed along my well wishes to Emily. Even though part of me still thinks her fiancé is a dunce, I do wish them all the best. Has she heard from Eddie? I don’t know where he’s stationed, but if you’d like to find out and send the information to me, I can try to keep an ear out. How has the wedding planning been going? I’m still confident you’re going to make the prettiest bridesmaid.
I did pass along your invitation in my last letter home to my family, and my mother said she would certainly inquire after the Sheridan residence should she ever happen to find herself in Charleston. I think she’s happy that you and I are still writing to each other. She’s even happier about the thought of swapping recipes with you. Watch out—if the two of you ever do meet, I think she’ll hold you hostage in the kitchen all day.
Now I am very proud to hear about all the fine work you and Dottie have been doing with your Victory Garden. I’m sure there must have been a lot of progress since you last wrote to me! I eagerly await news about the beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. I’m sure you’ve been able to make lots of hearty soups and healthy salads. My mouth is watering at the notion. Like I said, the food in the galley has been pretty crummy lately.
I’m sorry to hear there’s been some trouble back home. I’m sure it can’t be easy for anyone, with all the rationing and the fear and the worry. I promise that we’re doing our best over here to bring this war to an end quickly so that life can return to normal for all of you over there. For us, too. We really can’t wait to be home again.
Peach, I want you to know that it is our duty, our honor, and, quite frankly, our privilege to be fighting for you over here. I know the other fellas would agree with me saying so. So I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything at home to “earn” us fighting for you. That said, I think it’s incredible that you want to contribute to the war effort in that way. I’m sure you haven’t been waiting for my response or my approval—which you shouldn’t, by the way—but I give a wholehearted yes to you applying for that position at the air station. We just recently saw Mr. Norman Rockwell’s illustration of Rosie the Riveter on the cover of the Post, and I have to say that I think you’d wear those coveralls a hundred times better.
I’m so proud of you, Peach. I want you to know that.
Speaking of the war effort, we have a couple big campaigns coming up very soon. I can’t say much more than that, but your well wishes and prayers for success would be very much appreciated. I’m always thankful for them.
Until next time, Peach! I’m already counting down the days until your next letter arrives.
Most Truly Yours,
Bobby
P.S. I almost forgot! I told Paul how much you loved the fact that he sends drawings home to Clara and Paul, Jr.—by the way, that reminds me, how is little Frankie doing?—and he was more than happy to create a few illustrations for you. He did a couple portraits—one of me and one of you, based off your beautiful photograph. He said to apologize that he’s too much of an amateur to capture all of your beauty. He did say that he thought he did a fine enough job capturing my likeness—I’m telling you, Peach, I think my friends officially like you better than they like me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
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July 31, 1943
My Dearest Bobby,
Please don’t ever feel like you need to apologize for how long it takes you to write back to me. I can only imagine how difficult it is to find the time to write with everything that must be happening over there, and yet you always find the time to pen the most thoughtful and wonderful letters. I cherish each and every one of them, and I promise that I’m more than content to read your old letters as I await the new ones.
I’m so sorry to hear about how many of our boys we’re losing. Just last week, our neighbors, the Pattersons—you remember I mentioned Mrs. Patterson had helped me and Dottie with our Victory Garden?—received news that their son, Clarence was killed in action in France. It was devastating. Dottie and I had just been coming home from the grocery store when we saw the officer standing on their front steps with a telegram in hand. We knew what that meant. Mrs. Patterson has been inconsolable since. Mr. Patterson is equally devastated, but I think he’s trying to be strong for her. Dottie and I have been taking turns cooking meals for them and spending some time over at their house. We just want them to know that they’re not alone.
I admit, Bobby, that every time I hear news of someone else being lost in this war, I immediately think of you. It feels selfish, but I’m always so relieved when the news is about someone else and not you. I don’t know how I would bear it. I pray every day that I never have to receive that letter from Paul or Tommy Boy or Benny, but I am touched that you’ve thought about how I could be notified. Oh, Bobby, I hope more than anything that your parents never have to experience what the Pattersons are going through.
But you’re right—you’re going to come home safely. We have too many plans for you to do otherwise!
I’m sorry to hear that the food aboard your carrier has been so crummy lately. I wish that I could whip up a home-cooked feast and send it in the mail with my letters. Every time I sit down to dinner now, I think of all of you, and I count my blessings. Things aren’t perfect on the homefront, but I know that we certainly have no room to complain with all you boys are going through. I promise to have a peach cobbler waiting for you when you come home—and a pumpkin pie, for good measure.
If I’m turning you into a new man, Bobby, then you simply must know that you’re turning me into a new woman as well. I hardly remember the girl that I was before I met you. Can you believe that it’s been over a year now since our paths first crossed? I feel like my life is totally different now. The way that I see myself, the way I interact with others, the way that I’m not so terrified to step out of my comfort zone anymore—so much of that is thanks to you, Bobby. I’m still me, of course. But I feel like I’m a stronger, braver version of myself now. I like it, too.
It’s so kind of you to offer to keep an ear out for Eddie’s infantry! Emily received a letter from him around the same time that I received my letter from you, and he seems to be doing well, same as you, thank goodness. Eddie is part of the 1st Infantry Division. Emily said that last she knew, he was stationed somewhere near the Rhineland. The wedding planning has been going very well. Pretty much everything is set now—all we need is the groom. Emily can’t wait for Eddie to come home for good. Once he does, they’ll be able to officially set the date. Us bridesmaids are going to be wearing lilac-colored dresses. Dottie says she already knows how she’s going to style my hair. I hope that you’re home, too, when the wedding finally happens. Emily said that I could invite you to be my date. Only if you’d like that, of course.
I would be very happy to be kept hostage in the kitchen with your mother! I’m sure there’s so much I could learn from her, and it sounds like a splendid way to spend the day. I look forward to meeting her one of these days!
Oh, the Victory Garden, Bobby! You wouldn’t believe how it’s grown! Trust me, no one is more shocked than me and Dottie. Well, maybe Paddy. He knows firsthand what brown thumbs my sister and I normally have. At first, we weren’t so sure what was going to happen—the cucumbers seemed a bit small and some of the tomatoes didn’t really take. But by the end of June, everything was thriving! It’s been such a joy to watch, and I have to admit, both Dottie and I are feeling extremely accomplished. Frankie loves to spend time in the garden with us, although he spends a bit more time digging in the dirt than helping us pick vegetables, I’m afraid. Now that we’re in the middle of summer, we’re experimenting with zucchini and eggplant. We might also try radishes and turnips. We’re turning into quite the farmers! If your mother has any recipes to share, we’d be more than grateful and happy to try them out!
Now I admit that I’ve saved the most exciting news for last. At the beginning of June, I decided to go for it and I applied for the position at the air station in Goose Creek, the one Paddy told me about. I’m sure being his sister-in-law gave me a bit of an advantage, but it only took a couple days for me to hear back from them. I got the job! I’ve officially been working on the assembly line since the middle of June. It’s hard work, and I’ve never been so tired in all my life, but I have to say that I’m really proud of the work we’re doing. It’s funny that you mention Rosie the Riveter—my job these past few weeks has actually been to fasten pieces of the planes we’re assembling with rivets! So I guess you could call me Peach the Riveter. Doesn’t have quite the same ring though, does it?
I know that the chances are small that anything I’m helping to build is going to reach you specifically, Bobby, but I can’t help but smile every time we finish a new part, or get a new plane put together. I imagine you and Paul, or Tommy Boy or Benny hopping inside and it brings me more pleasure and pride than I could possibly explain. I feel like I’m doing something important, something meaningful and special. If spending hours riveting until my fingers turn numb brings you home even a day faster, then it will all have been worth it. And it gives me a real sense of purpose, driving to work each day with Paddy. I feel proud of myself.
I’ve made some new friends at work, too! Florence and Virginia—we call them Florie and Ginny—are the loveliest, kindest girls. They had already been working on the assembly line for a few months before I got the job, so they’ve been showing me the ropes and teaching me everything they know. They’ve made me feel so welcome, so a part of things. I have to admit that I was terrified my first week or so, terrified that I was going to mess something up or make a fool of myself. But I’ve settled in quite well, thankfully.
It means a lot to me to know that I have your support, Bobby. Truly, it does. Thinking of you and all that you’re doing to protect us is what really motivated me to take this job, so thank you.
Of course I’m sending all my best wishes for the campaigns you have coming up! Wherever you are right now, I pray that you’re safe and that your missions are successful.
You’re so brave, Bobby. Have I told you that lately? Even if I have, you deserve to hear it again. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re my hero.
I hope this letter gets to you soon. I wish it could grow wings and fly to you. I know time is going to pass so slowly until I’m holding a new letter from you in my hands. But until then, Bobby, I’m thinking of you and holding you in my heart.
Most Truly and Affectionately Yours,
Peach
P.S. Paul is quite the artist!!! I now have his portraits hanging right beside the photographs you sent me. Please tell him how talented I think he is, and how much I love the drawings he made for me! I was especially touched by the little note he wrote me on the back of your portrait. I hope he’s doing well. Send my best to him and Tommy Boy and Benny!
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